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theetherealbloom · 2 days ago
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Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever
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Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.
Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”
I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T
Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler
gif by @a7estrellas
→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY
The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  
You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  
“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  
“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  
He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  
“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  
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The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  
Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  
Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  
Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  
“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  
You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  
Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  
“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  
Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  
“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  
“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET
The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.
Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.
“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.
Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.
You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.
“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”
Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”
Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”
“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  
Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  
“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  
“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  
“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”
Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  
“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  
Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  
You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  
Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  
“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”
“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  
“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.
You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.
“I��m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”
“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”
Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”
“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  
Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  
Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”
Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  
“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  
“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  
“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  
The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.
You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.
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THE NEXT DAY
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  
Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  
His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  
“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  
“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  
It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  
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The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  
“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  
Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  
Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  
Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  
Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  
You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  
Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  
“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  
Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  
Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  
“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  
“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  
He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  
The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  
Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  
You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  
“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  
Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  
“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  
Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  
Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  
Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  
Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  
You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  
The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  
Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  
“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  
Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  
“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  
Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  
He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  
“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  
“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  
“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  
Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  
“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  
Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  
“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  
The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  
“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  
“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  
As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  
“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  
“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  
“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  
“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  
Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  
“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  
Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  
“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  
The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  
As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  
When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  
You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  
Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 
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L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING
The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 
“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”
You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”
“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”
And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 
“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.
“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 
“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”
Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.
“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”
Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.
“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 
Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”
You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”
He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”
There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 
This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 
“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”
You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”
“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”
His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”
Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”
You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.
Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 
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Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  
“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  
You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  
“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  
Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  
You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  
He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  
“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  
His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  
“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  
When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  
“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  
“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  
The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  
The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.
A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  
“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  
Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  
“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  
“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  
Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  
Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  
Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  
“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  
Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  
“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  
He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  
You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  
Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  
You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  
Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  
You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  
“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  
You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  
“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  
Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  
Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  
The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  
Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  
Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  
The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  
Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  
In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.
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yagirlwrites · 1 day ago
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Make Me Proud | (Sub!Rafe)
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Pairing: sub!Rafe x domme!Reader
Synopsys: Rafe and Reader finally get to release their pent up tension from the Halloween party. He wants to earn his prize so they explore a new way of pleasure together.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), anal play (m receiving), oral (f receiving), fluff
Word Count: 6.4k
A/N: Hii!!! I know it took me a while but it's finally finished! I hope you enjoy this smutty goodnes and that it was worth the wait! Let me know what you think! I'm excited for them exploring more ways to give/receive pleasure!
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My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️
Happy reading🥰
Make Me Proud
The harsh rays of sun pricked at his eyelids forcing him to awaken against his will, letting out a pained groan. Blinking his eyes open he slowly begun to gather his bearings and the first thing he noticed was the emptiness of the bed next to him.
There was a low pang in his chest at her absence. The second thing he noticed was the pounding in his head, no doubt attributed to the hangover bound to ruin his day. He made such a huge mistake downing all those shots last night. As the memories started flooding back he became aware of just how much of a fool he'd made of himself. In front of her, to make shit ten times worse. Just as he was beginning to wonder if his behavior caused her to leave, the door slowly opened and he watched her tiptoe inside, unaware of his inner turmoil.
Once her eyes landed on his sprawled out figure she realized he was finally awake. Had she been up for several hours, bored out of her mind but not wanting to wake him? Maybe. Did she sneak into the kitchen to make them both a cup of coffee when she finally got sick of laying motionless next to him? Perhaps.
"Morning, sunshine." She smirked at his response, an unamused grunt. He was definitely feeling the aftermath of those drinks. She felt kinda bad for him but it was his own fault he was in this state.
"What time is it?" His morning voice always got her tummy fluttering and today was no different. The ways in which this man drove her insane were unfathomable to her.
"Nine. I thought you'd sleep longer. The house is still dead." She made her way back to bed, giving him a generous view of her bare thighs as she shuffled in next to him. He barely noticed the coffee cup right in front of his face, too distracted by how soft and sexy her legs looked and how she still smelled so damn good even after a long night.
"Rafe..." her voice sounded half amused half exasperated, causing him to finally snap his attention back to her face and see the amused expression she bore. He blushed at being caught so blatantly ogling her, but he didn't try to play it off. There was no need to anyway, she knew just how attracted he was to her.
He took the cup with a small thank you, forcing himself into a somewhat upright position and downing half of it in one go. She scoffed out a laugh and rolled over to the bedside table to grab him a bottle of water she put there last night. Once she turned back she caught him staring at her ass, which had peeked out from under his shirt she was wearing. Raising her eyebrow at catching him, again, in under 2 minutes, he paid her back with a sheepish smile.
Those damn dimples always got to her. She was a sucker like that. He didn't need to know how quickly she got weak for him though, so she bit back her smile and decided to keep on a face of neutrality, knowing it drove him crazy when he couldn't tell what mood she was in.
"Are you hungry?" She casually posed the question while scrolling on her phone and he wished she'd just look at him instead. Pathetic. But hey, he was accepting it. She drove him insane every single day and he liked it.
"A little... The burger helped, though. Thanks." He gave her a cute smile almost causing her to break her act, but she perservered. He was just too fun to mess with, she couldn't help herself.
"You're welcome." She went back to her phone and he pouted. The throbbing in his head was making him more impatient than usual so he snapped and forced her into a bear hug, almost knocking the wind out of her.
"Rafe!" He laughed into her skin, enjoying the sound of her carefree giggle more than he thought possible.
"Get off!" Her words had no real bite to them, so he just pulled away slightly, just to look at her face.
"Thank you for taking care of me. And I'm sorry for getting drunk." He kissed her sweetly, almost making her lose her head completely. These moments of gentle affection always had both of their heads spiraling.
"You're lucky you're cute.." she sighed out a labourious breath and he laughed at the dramatics.
"I'm very lucky." He was looking at her with the most lovesick expression, she couldn't handle it. She had to break the moment before it broke her.
"Indeed. And quite desperate, based on all the begging you were doing last night." She was kinda mean for bringing that up. He was confused for all of 5 seconds before he realized what begging she was referring to. Once he did, his skin turned bright pink and the temperature of his body rose.
He had begged her to let him go down on her like a little bitch. Dear God, the embarrassment was about to eat him up, the blush not letting up for a moment.
She cracked a smile then, breaking the stoic act and he felt an immediate relief at that. He remembered what she'd told him - that he didn't need to be embarrassed about his desires. So he swallowed down his pride and awkwardness and decided to end this little game of hers. Instead of becoming sheepish he got serious.
"You still haven't told me how I can earn it." His words shook her. She was enjoying teasing him and then he flipped the switch. She could see the smirk begging to be let out at the corner of his lips, his eyes hungry and not hiding his arousal at all. She had a feeling that if she took the covers off he'd be packing a hard-on again. He was playing with fire.
"You really want to earn it?" Her eyes shifted and her domme voice returned. His skin was buzzing with excitement, hoping to finally get something out of her.
"Yes, ma'am." He smiled and she could feel her composure slipping away.
"Just wanna make you feel good." His voice dropped an octave and she could feel the dampness in her panties, the temperature in the room heating up.
"I feel good when I make you feel good, baby." Teasing, teasing, teasing. He knew she was playing him again. He swallowed, mouth feeling dry at the way she was looking at him.
"I want to taste you so bad." There it was. The honest response. She didn't want him pretending he was only interested in it for her benefit and now he was finally being truthful.
"Yeah?" She got on top of him, lips inches apart. His breath becoming her own as she stared deep into his eyes, testing his limits.
"Yes....please..." she kissed him then. A kiss so heated it could probably warm up an entire room. Little whines left his throat as she bit down on his lip, feeling his erection pressing into her ass. He was so gone.
"Please." It was a whisper, she barely heard it but she had. And boy did it have her losing her damn mind. The desperation he exhibited for her drove her wild. She had to pull away in order for both of them to catch their breaths again. God, was he testing her.
"I love the way you beg, baby." She whispered into his ear, leaving soft, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to groan... it was such a delicious torture.
"Fuck..." his whines got louder when she bit into that spot where his neck and shoulder meet, eyes rolling back. She was everything.
She had a whole scene in her mind then, clear as day. Trying to think of all the logistics was proving difficult when she was so damn turned on, causing her to pull away. He whined at the loss of contact, nearly shedding a tear. She'd built him up so high he didn't think he could survive her rejection now.
She took the water bottle and took a huge gulp, his lust filled eyes tracing her features, trying to figure out how to stop her from pulling away from him further. He thought he'd definitely cry if she did, too turned on to function. She tried getting up off of him, causing him to whine and wrap his hands around her, refusing to let her go. She nearly laughed seeing the desperation on his face, the sheer need to keep her there.
"Baby. Let go." He reluctantly loosened his grip, looking at her with big, sad eyes nearly breaking her heart.
"It's okay, sweet boy." She kissed his cheek and then shocked him by squirting water on his face. He gasped, looking at her in bewilderment. She couldn't help but laugh then.
"What..?" The confusion on his face made her laugh harder. She needed to cool them both down and this was the first thing she could think of. She can't have this conversation if she isn't thinking clearly.
"I'm sorry, I just needed you to snap out of it. Sorry, baby." She wiped the remaining water off his face. She kissed him again and pushed herself further away from him, so she can think.
"What the hell?" He was mumbling, still half in shock making her feel a bit guilty.
"Look if you're serious then we need to talk. I can't think when we're..." she drifted off then, causing him to realize what happened. She was having trouble controlling herself just as he was, so she did a silly thing to help herself think. He felt endeared, realizing that the moment had affected her just as strongly as it did him.
"Okay. Talk." He was nodding, sitting up, facing her, trying to ignore the painful boner she left him with.
"You want to be a good boy?" How was he supposed to stay calm when she says shit like that to him? Damn.
"Yes." He struggled to stay still, not to draw nearer, to feel her skin against him again. It was so hard.
"Remember when you said you were open to anal play?" Her words shook him to his core. She could see the shock in his eyes before he had a chance to mask it.
"Ye-yeah. I remember..." he wasn't sure where this was going anymore.
"Are you still? Or did you just say that cause you thought it's what I wanted to hear?" He was shaking his head before she even finished the question.
"No. I- I meant it. I want to try." She smiled at him then, a soft look on her face the polar opposite of how she looked just minutes ago.
"Yeah?" He nodded, urging her to believe him. He had no idea what she was planning but he wanted nothing more than to do whatever she wanted. Even if he was nervous.
"I want to be your good boy." His words nearly had her eyes roll back but she managed to control herself. He was so fucking hot when he gave himself to her completely.
"Okay. Well, we need to prepare, we can't do it now-"
"Why not?" The whine was louder and brattier than he intended causing her to cock a brow at him.
"Well for one I don't have lube here, and-"
"I do!" This took her by surprise. But he interrupted her twice now and that was not acceptable.
"Okay, that's good. But if you interrupt me one more time we're not having any sex at all in the forseeable future." Her voice was authoritative, making him feel embarrassed at how childish he was acting.
"I'm sorry." He looked it too, so she accepted it with a nod.
"Okay. Well, we still can't do it here. I'd like us to shower first and have privacy." She was listing things, looking so cute while she rationalized their sex life. It would have been comical if it weren't driving him insane.
He knew she didn't want to shower in his house, having offered her the option before and being met with a horrified look and a respectful decline. She claimed she liked his friends but she didn't trust their hygiene in the slightest, causing him to laugh and agree with her. He loved her shower though. He got to use her pretty smelling shampoo and he always felt extra clean and sated after showering at her apartment.
"Then lets go to your place." It was a no brainer to him. She thought of all the possible issues but given that her plans for his first time trying anal play were small, she figured it would be fine without all the usual prep. They'd build up to that eventually.
"Okay." He lit up like a christmas tree.
"Really?" She chuckled at his newfound enthusiasm.
"Yes, really. But if you change your mind at any point you need to tell me, okay?" He was nodding along quickly but she didn't forget the initial apprehension on his face and she'd be damned if she let him do something he isn't into to try and please her. Not on her watch.
They got dressed and packed up their stuff pretty quickly, the excitement in the air palpable. Some people finally started to wake up just as they were leaving the house, catching a few "screw you's" for running off before the clean up from last night began. They didn't care, too wrapped up in each other and the anticipation of what's to come to be bothered.
----------------------------
They picked up some sandwiches on the way back to her apartment, at her insistence. He was way too excited for what she had planned to think about food, but his stomach thanked her all the same when his hunger was sated.
They didn't waste any time taking their clothes off and getting in the shower. It was such a wonderful moment between them, soft and loving, he way they washed each other from all the sweat and grime from the night before. She handled him more delicately than anyone ever had in his life, and he always felt so damn safe and taken care of when she touched him like that. As the shower drew to an end, they shared some lingering, warm kisses, igniting the fire from earlier all over again in a slow burning flame.
Anticipation was killing him, driving him wild with every second that passed of them drying off and getting ready in her room. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but it was nothing compared to how excited he felt. The trust he had in her was so complete, he knew he was always safe with her to explore these kinks without danger or judgement. He knew she'd never force him to do anything he wasn't willing to do, and that opened up the door for him to get braver and more comfortable with trying new things.
They were on her bed, still naked from the shower, not feeling any need to prolong the inevitable. She kissed him slow and deep, tongues meeting in a teasing dance, driving them both wild. The little sounds he let out were going straight to her core. She was so excited about this, she had a feeling he'd love the sensation of having his ass played with and it made her proud that he was trusting her in this sensitive moment.
"Tell me the colors again." She ordered, kissing his neck, winding him up further. She always insisted he reminds himself of the colors, so there was no chance of a miscommunication in the heat of the moment.
"Green, yellow, red. I know the drill." He quickly listed the colors, exasperated and so turned on he could barely breathe.
"Don't get sassy." She warned, still kissing his skin, over his collar bones and shoulders. She loved to kiss the freckles on his body, finding them so damn beautiful.
He was struggling to breathe, forcing deep breaths into his lungs, while she worked him over, touching and kissing everywhere. His skin was flushed, muscles taut with restraint. It felt so good, her touch, he wondered how he didn't melt right into a puddle every time her skin was on his.
She kept exploring him with her fingerips and lips, nibbling on a nipple, lightly scratching down his abs, amping him up, every nerve ending so sensitive. His cock was hard as a rock and she couldn't help but smirk at his twitching, trying so hard to be good and not do anything she didn't tell him to.
She completely ignored his erection, instead focusing on massaging his balls causing moans to leave his lips. She loved the sounds he made, could get high on them.
"That feel good, huh?" She teased, kissing his thighs while she slowly moved one hand lower, barely touching his sensitive hole. He gasped as soon as her fingers brushed him there, finally grasping just how close she was to opening him up in a whole new way.
She laid kisses on his skin as her fingers slowly massaged around his hole, causing him to groan at the teasing tempo. He needed more, she was driving him nuts.
She could tell he was getting antsy, face flushed and little, desperate whines leaving his swollen lips. She reached for the bottle of lube she'd prepared, cracking it open and squeezing a generous amount on her fingers. Rubbing her fingers to warm them up, she looked at him, holding his breath in preparation.
"What's your color, baby?" She spread his legs wide open for better access, leaving him completely exposed in front of her.
"Green." The answer was immediate, a deep longing in his voice. He kept his eyes on her, eager to see every movement she made.
"I'm gonna go slow, okay? Nothing crazy. I promise." He was nodding, impatient yet grateful for the reassurance.
"Okay. Just please do something." She smiled at his little whine and decided to put him out of his mysery.
Her fingers finally made contact with the sensitive skin around his hole, massaging slowly, warming him up, making sure to put a decent amount of lube on his entrance. The massage felt so good he couldn't imagine how it could get better.
She kissed his tummy as she slowly eased the tip of her finger into his tight hole, causing a desperate gasp to leave him. She kept a watchful eye on his face, paying attention to every expression, every breath, twitch and sound that left him. She kissed his skin as she kept massaging and lightly slipping her finger into him deeper, going slowly not to overwhelm him. She was so damn turned on at how good he was being, proud of how brave he was to let her have him like this and eager to make him see stars.
Once she'd slowly eased a finger about half way, she checked in.
"How does it feel, baby?" She rubbed his thighs in a soothing motion which calmed his mind.
"Weird. But kinda good?" It was his first time ever having anything in his ass and the sensation was strange but at the same time he wanted more. He needed to know how good it could feel, because he knew she wouldn't do this if it wasn't going to make him feel great.
"You're doing so good for me, sweet boy." He whined at the praise, blushing profusely at the intimate situation.
"Still green?" He nodded quickly making her chuckle and continue her ministrations.
"Fuck..." he moaned as her finger went deeper, touching that sensitive spot inside him, causing his mind to go completely blank as she kept going. She started moving in and out slowly, grazing that magic spot with each thrust. The way he was responding was so fucking beautiful. He was letting out sounds she hadn't heard before, the brand new pleasure making him delirious.
"You're so tight around my finger, baby." The dirty talk had him whining in desperation, wanting more, wanting her to take him however she liked. This was so different to anything he'd experienced before and he really fucking liked it.
"Taking me so good." She kept talking him thought it as she gained speed, lightly curling her finger each time she grazed that spot, having him curling his toes in pleasure, gasps and moans leaving him without his knowledge. He was so wrapped up in how nice it felt he couldn't think of anything else but her finger, her touch, her voice overwhelming his senses.
"More." He whined out the most deperate little moan she'd ever heard in her life, her panties getting soaked seeing him like this.
"More?" She questioned, picking up the pace as his moans got louder, his head nodding, words escaping him.
She wasn't expecting to do more than one finger for the first time but the way he was reacting, taking it so well, so eager, begging for more? Yeah, she was losing her fucking mind. It was the hottest thing she'd ever witnessed.
"Think you can take another finger, baby boy?" His response an immediate, moaned out "yes, please". She could see his eyes getting teary and she didn't waste another moment before squirting more lube on him and easing another finger into his tight hole.
He was a mess of moans, grunts, whines, pleas and tears as she stretched him out, giving him a new level of pleasure as both fingers pumped into him. It was heaven. He couldn't believe he'd waited this long to do this. Though he couldn't imagine ever doing this with anyone else. She was it for him, he knew it. She blew his mind every fucking time they had sex, she introduced him to highs he never even imagined.
Fuck, it felt so good to have her on top of him, fucking him with her fingers, claiming him as hers. He was getting closer and closer, cock twitching on his stomach, leaking precum, red and throbbing without even being touched. It was insane.
"You look so beatiful, baby. Taking me so well. I'm so proud of you." His tears flowed freely at her words, overwhelmed at the pleasure and praise she was giving him. It was fucking perfect.
"I'm cl- so close." She could barely make out his words from the choked moan they escaped in.
"Yeah? You wanna cum, baby?" He was trashing under her now, losing all semblance of control as she worked him to his peak.
"Please..." his whines making her pussy throb with arousal, she picked up the pace, eager to see him fall apart for her.
"Be a good boy and cum for me." As she said those words she finally gripped his cock, squeezing him as he fell off the edge and into the most intense orgasm he'd ever had.
She got high off his desperate noises, the way he twitched as he orgasmed, clenching around her fingers, cock pulsing in her hand as his cum painted his stomach. It was so fucking beautiful, she couldn't look away even if she tried.
"Look at you. So pretty." She kissed his skin as the last of his aftershocks wore off. Her words were driving him insane, after everything that just happened, being flustered at a compliment seemed surreal but there he was.
It was the most intense experience of his life. And he couldn't be more grateful that he had her to guide him through it. He felt so sensitive and thoroughly wiped out, but in the best way possible.
"How you feeling, baby?" She posed the question as she gently cleaned up the mess he made all over his stomach using a tissue. He looked flushed and sated and she couldn't be more ecstatic about what just occured.
"Good." He let out a chuckle, meeting her gaze, melting at the way she was looking at him. So fondly, he couldn't cope.
"You did so good, angel. I'm so proud of you." Her words had him shook, the praise and approval making his insides feel like mush. If his skin wasn't already red from the intense scene he'd just been through, the blush would have been fierce.
"Thank you..." his soft whisper made the butterflies reappear in her tummy. He looked so fucking beautiful she couldn't handle it.
She made her way up his body, leaving soft kisses all over his skin, warming him up with each one. She kissed his face next, the salty remnant of the tears he'd shed from pleasure being washed away with soft pecks. It was so tender and sweet he almost cried all over again.
When her lips met his, he felt as though his heart just might burst at how full and happy he was. He had never felt this happy in his whole fucking life. How did he get so lucky?
"Holy shit, baby. That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He giggled at her words, making the smile on her face seem permanent. So fucking cute she couldn't handle it, leading her to smother his face in kisses, causing those giggles to come out again. She was in trouble.
"Alright, baby. Gonna go clean up, be right back." She laid a final peck on his lips before making her way to the bathroom. He felt cold as soon as her touch left him and he wondered how the hell he could miss someone who's only a room away.
She took her time washing her hands, making sure they were clean enough to touch him again. She wanted to run her fingers over his face and it killed her that she had to refrain. She knew he was feeling exhausted but she had one more thing in mind before they could relax. She was excited and hoped he had enough energy to handle it.
When she made her way back to the room she found him sleepily looking at her. He had a cute little smile on and her heart skipped a beat. She climbed back on top of him, warming him up all over again, making him release a relieved sigh. He wondered how healthy it was for him to need to be with her all the time, but he didn't have it in him to care too much. Her touch, her comfort, her care was addicting and he wouldn't want to change it for the world.
She kissed him softly, drawing out a satisfied moan from him as their tongues met. She cupped his face as she kissed him, taking his breath away once again. He slowly reached up to hold her closer, feeling relief he wasn't used to, once they were skin to skin.
"You were such a good boy for me." She kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving him to struggle with responding at how good it felt and how much he loved when she called him that.
"You up for more, baby?" The kisses travelled over his neck and his heart started racing once he processed her words.
"More? I don't know if I can..." he was all whiny and shy, not wanting to disappoint her but not feeling ready for another intense experience. He thought he was done.
"No?" She kissed under his ear making his eyes roll to the back of his head. She was driving him insane.
"You don't want your reward?" He gasped as she lightly bit into his shoulder, feeling like he'd float away any second. But then he realized what she'd said.
"What? You- Wh-" he was trying to force her to look at him, pulling her face gently up to meet her eyes as he stumbled over his words.
"Reward?" He was looking at her with wide eyes, confusion on his face obvious. She simply sat up and cocked a brow, waiting for him to figure it out. It took a minute for his brain to catch up with him but once it did he thought he'd lost it.
"You- Are you serious?" He was practically begging her to say yes with the way he was looking at her. Like if she said no, his heart would shatter.
"Mhm. If you think you can handle it." She shrugged and had to hold back a laugh when he started furiously nodding his head.
"Yes! I can. Please. Green. Yes, please. Please please please..." he was blushing at his desperation but couldn't hold it back. The though of finally getting to taste her was making every nerve in his body buzz in excitement. He was on the precipice of heaven and he couldn't handle rejection now.
"You sure? You weren't too excited earlier..." his stomach dropped at her words.
"No! I mean, yes! I am so sure, please. I just thought you meant more... of what happened earlier." He was blushing profusely as he tried to get her to understand he was serious about being able to handle eating her out.
The way he was acting all shy and sheepish and desperate was really tugging at her heartstrings.
"You mean when you came around my fingers?" His blush got fiercer as he shyly nodded. He hated how much she loved to tease him when he's so wound up. But the smile on her face in that moment almost made up for it.
"I don't know, it seemed like you were enjoying it..." She kept teasing him, running her fingers over his stomach causing him to squirm with the light tickles. She was playing with him and he knew it.
"You know I was. I just can't do more of that right now... But I can make you feel good. Please?" He was trying to hard not to let his frustration seep through in his words. He needed to stay on her good side if he wanted a chance to finally taste her tonight. But the eagerness which he felt was making him extra antsy, itching for a chance to have her in this new way.
"Since you asked so nicely and you took my fingers so well..." The blush on his face had no chance of leaving when she kept talking like that.
"I'm gonna ride your face. You okay with that, baby?" He was practically shaking with excitement, nodding his head an eager yes.
"Yes, please..." his whine had her tummy stirring again and the wetness from earlier returned.
Rafe thought he would pass out as he watched her straddling his chest, being so close to her heat he could almost smell it. He couldn't wait anymore, all his fantasies were coming alive in that moment. He thought he'd never craved anything more than to have her on his tongue. He knew once he tasted her he'd be addicted and he didn't care. He was so fucking close.
"If you want to stop or talk or anything, tap my thigh. Okay?" He was struggling to find words when he could see how pretty her pussy was up close and she was playing with his hair just right. A harsh tug broke his daze as he looked up at her and finally answered.
"Yes. Please sit on my face." She almost laughed at his eagerness but refrained, taking in the adorable little pout he had on his face.
"Okay, baby." She positioned herself above him and he felt like he'd explode in the few seconds it took for her to lower herself on his face. And then she was and it was paradise. He couldn't imagine anything in existence could ever be better than this moment.
Her scent, her taste, it was so fucking addicting right off the bat. He wasted no time exploring her with his mouth, savouring the new position he was lucky to end up in. His hands made home on her ass, feeling the plump skin, massaging it as his tongue licked at her warmth. He wasn't even aware of the noises he was making as he ate her, too consumed in her pussy and bringing her pleasure to hear the moans and groans leaving him. However, she could not only hear him, but feel the vibrations on her skin, making the pleasure of his whines that much stronger. It felt amazing. He was so good with his mouth, she had no doubt he would be but it was a whole other thing actually experiencing it firsthand.
She started to slowly grind on him and his moans only got louder, his movements more eager. He fucking loved this, loved having her ride his face. He could cum just from this, he'd swear. His cock was already fully hard again but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the woman on top of him, chasing her pleasure, using him - while he devoured his favorite meal of all time. He'd never enjoy the taste of anything more than her. He was a goner.
Her grinds got more intense, pressing her clit on his nose just right, causing his brain to go haywire at the way she was using him. His cock was twitching on his stomach at how hot this was. Moans finally left her lips and it was the most glorious of sounds. He squeezed her ass, wishing he could stay like this for an eternity.
He slipped his tongue inside her cunt and nearly wept when he felt her walls clench around the muscle. It was dirty and heavenly all at once. She reached back to tease his nipples, urging him on. He slurped and sucked on her clit, making sure to cherish every little moan and breath and clench she let out. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed. He wished he could see the look on her face when she came.
She was close, surprising herself at how quickly he managed to get her there. She buried her hand into his hair, riding his face just a little harder, chasing her high. She had never been this vocal in bed. He always brought out new experiences for her as well.
"I'm close, baby." He groaned into her pussy, hands urging her to go faster, to reach her orgasm. It only took a few more grinds of her hips for her to let go.
Then it was her juices, her taste and smell and sounds overwhelming all his senses. He lapped up every drop greedily, not wanting this moment to end. Her thighs closed around his head for a second but it was enough to have him almost reaching the end himself. He wouldn't do that though. Not again. Not without permission. This was about her. And God, was she incredible.
As the last of her shakes left her, she quickly pulled off of him, lowering herself down on his chest, eagerly checking on him. Her hands met his cheeks, his skin wet from her release and a big cheeky smile on his face when she met his eyes. He was so fucking high off of her coming in his mouth. The sexiest thing he'd ever experienced in his life.
"Thank you." Those were the first words that left him after he brought her to one of the most intense orgasms of her life. She wanted to curse at how pretty he looked all fucked out. The cheeky grin and the sparkling eyes driving her insane.
She hadn't let many people eat her out before, always focusing more on their pleasure, finding the act a bit too intimate for her liking. But damn if it didn't feel right with him. She could feel herself getting all soft and mushy inside, hoping he can't tell just how fucking smitten she was with him. She kissed him to hide her burning cheeks from his view, distracting them both, tasting herself on his tongue, swallowing up his moans, making them hers.
"If you're gonna reward me like that every time, I'm happy to do anal stuff any day now." She laughed at his words, running her fingers over his face gently, taking in the lovely moment of peace and contentment.
"You're telling me if I didn't let you eat me out, you wouldn't want me to fuck your ass?" He blushed at her words, letting her know just how much they affected him.
"No. I'd want it anyway." He was being honest and vulnerable, just like they talked about and it was doing funny things to her head.
"Thought so." She pretended to be serious for a moment but then let her guard down when she kissed all over his face again. His laugh made butterflies soar in her tummy. Fuck, if she didn't love that sound.
"I'm really glad you enjoyed it." She knew he had been apprehensive about trying anal play and she was honoured he trusted her enough to explore it with her for the first time.
"It was the best orgasm of my life." She chuckled and he looked at her so fondly she couldn't handle it.
"Nothing compared to how amazing it was having you ride my face, though." His cheeky smirk was back but she could hear the truth in his voice. He really did love eating her out. And she figured she'd let him to it more often since it was just so much fucking fun.
"You're a cheeky bastard, you know that?" He nuzzled into her skin, enjoying the playful banter they always ended up back in.
"Mhm. You like me, though." He kissed her shoulder, holding her that much closer, their naked bodies tangled together in the most wonderful mess of limbs.
"Sadly, I do. A frat guy, no less." He snorted a cute laugh and she couldn't help but laugh too.
"Luckiest frat guy in the world." His voice was so soft and he looked at her so fondly her breath caught in her throat.
He unhinged her. Every time she thought she finally stood on solid ground he went and said something sweet like that, honest like that, and shook her world to the ground again. The feelings that were bubbling inside her were way too serious and way to soon for her to entertain. So she did what she always did and shut him up with another kiss.
-------------------------
Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @torturedtypewritersdept @kinkyrafe @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @malfoytargaryen @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @whore-4-drewstarkey @palmwinemami @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife @ietss @beansprout713 @starkeysbebe @miahxelizabeth
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laurenairay · 11 hours ago
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A reason to start over new - T. Jost
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Summary: It’s been five years since Lucy has seen her ex-boyfriend Tyson. Can his grandparents’ Christmas party fix their broken hearts?
Happy birthday @senditcolton! This is my fic for your birthday bingo – I had a lot of fun with this one! I chose The Hand Touch, Exes to Lovers, Free Space (Resolved Angst), “You’re Too Good for Me”, and Winter Romance, making it a full bingo! Hope you have a wonderful day Nicole.
A massive thank you to @jostyriggslover96 for reading through this!
Words: 3.3k
Warnings: angst, flashback to breakup, some bad language, self-deprecation.
Title from The Reason, by Hoobastank
~
I've found a reason for me, To change who I used to be, A reason to start over new, And the reason is you.
~
“Oh wow, Val and Jim have really outdone themselves this year, haven’t they?”
Lucy glanced around at the Christmas decorations surrounding them, smiling at her mom’s words.
“Full of holiday cheer, as always!” she nodded.
She took off her thick coat and gloves, glad to be out of the icy air, hanging them up on the rack put out for guests.
“Now honey, if it’s too much, you can slip out back and head home, okay?” her mom said seriously, albeit quietly.
“You said that last year. And the year before that. For the last five years, actually,” Lucy mused.
“And I’ve meant it every year. They might be our neighbours, but you are my baby. And my priority, always,” her mom said seriously.
Not for the first time, Lucy was thankful to have the mom she did.
“And I appreciate it. But I’m going to be fine,” she said, smiling fondly.
“Alright, if you’re sure. You just send me a sneaky text if you change your mind though, yes?”
“Yeah, thanks mom,” Lucy beamed.
The Christmas Eve Party thrown by her neighbours was a tradition she’d attended her entire life, and even though she hadn’t dated their grandson in half a decade, Val and John had always insisted that she still came along. A lingering effect of being childhood sweethearts, she supposed.
“Amy! Gary! Lucy!”
The welcome from their neighbours was warm and effervescent as it always was, and soon enough Lucy found herself swept in by conversation and catching up. She may have gone to college in UBC Okanagan in Kelowna for both her degrees, barely away from home, but she’d lived in campus residence for all four years of her bachelor’s degree and moved out of her parents’ house properly into a small apartment near campus for her master’s degree. It would’ve been easy to move home after guaranteed accommodation ended, but Lucy had wanted to keep the independence she had grown to love, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t visit her parents at least every other weekend.
But it was still nice to be able to talk about her accomplishments with the people that she’d grown up alongside, especially now that she was in the final year of her master’s degree and looking like she was on track for starting the PhD she’d always aimed for.
After a couple of hours, she escaped the crowds in the living and dining areas, grateful for the sanctuary of the kitchen. There were a few plates of cookies and other Christmas treats laid out, and Lucy couldn’t resist reaching out for a snickerdoodle…
…at the exact time as someone else.
She jumped in surprise as a large hand rested on top of hers, not realising anyone was next to her, but as she looked up, she couldn’t but to freeze despite the warmth of his touch. Tyson. It was Tyson’s hand touching hers.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, I…Lucy?”
“Hey Tys,” she managed to breathe.
The familiar curls, the big beautiful eyes, the sweet smile, and now a little bit of stubble? He looked good. Of course he looked good.
Tyson quickly drew his hand away from hers, breaking her out of her thoughts.
“Uh, you have it, I shouldn’t be eating baked goods too much anyway,” Tyson said, rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly.
Lucy pursed her lips and broke a third of the snickerdoodle off, handing it to Tyson with a raised eyebrow. Tyson huffed out a laugh but accepted the offered treat, sending her a small smile of thanks. Fuck, it may have been five years since they broke up, but he really hadn’t changed, had he?
“So, uh, you still come to these parties?” Tyson asked.
Lucy bit her bottom lip but nodded.
“Yeah, your grandparents insist. I hope that’s okay,” she winced.
“Of course it is,” Tyson said quickly, “They always loved you.”
Well that was something at least. Why did this feel so awkward? Sure, it had been five years since she’d seen Tyson, but they dated from eight years – surely they had more than this?
“I don’t usually come to these. Well, I guess you already know that, if you come every year. I, uh, I have the 24th to the 26th off this year, so I didn’t want to miss another Christmas with my grandparents,” Tyson explained.
“I bet Val and Jim were over the moon when you told them,” Lucy mused.
Tyson laughed softly, nodding. “They were. Mom and Kacey didn’t hesitate to come to Kelowna to join us, so it’s a big family Christmas this year.”
“That’s great, Tys. Really. Spending Christmas with your loved ones is important,” she said softly, smiling.
His smile dimmed a little, but he nodded.
“How’s, uh, how’s your degree going? Gramps said you’re doing a master’s now?”
He knew that? Did he ask? Or did Jim just tell him?
“Uh, yeah. I graduated my bachelor's degree magna cum laude back in 2020 and went straight into starting my graduate program there. I’m a paid teaching assistant for my supervisory professor too.”
“That’s incredible, Luce. Still doing Earth and Environmental Sciences?” Tyson prompted.
He remembered? After all this time?
“Yeah, yeah it is. Focusing in on environmental impact assessment for my master’s thesis,” she nodded, a little stunned, “I didn’t think…I didn’t think you’d remember.”
“Of course I remember. You were always so passionate about your studies – it was one of the things I loved most about you,” he said softly.
“Tyson…” Lucy said faintly, trailing off when no words would come.
He smiled sadly at her, shaking his head.
“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you,” Tyson murmured.
~
2019
“So you can’t make it over?”
“No, Tys, I can’t, I have labs to do,” Lucy sighed.
“We haven’t seen each other in so long!”
“I can’t just not go to my classes because you want me in Denver! You know this!” she groaned.
“I know, I know, but it sucks.”
Lucy frowned, even though he couldn’t see her. “You’re the one who didn’t come home for Christmas, remember?”
“The schedule didn’t make sense, and I offered to fly you down?”
“Tyson!” she groaned.
He stayed silent on the other end of the phone, a silence that sent an ominous shiver down her spine.
“So where do we go from here?”
“W-What?” she said, confused at the dull tone of his voice.
“Your priority is college, my priority is hockey, and neither of us can compromise. I would never ask you to compromise, just like you wouldn’t ask me. We have different priorities, clearly. So where do we go from here?”
“Tyson, are you really saying what I think you’re saying?” she whimpered.
“Yeah, I think we should break up.”
“We’ve been together for eight years! You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had, the only guy I’ve ever wanted. And you want to break up, just like that?”
“I don’t want to break up, Luce. But what other option do we have? Neither of us can give the other what we need right now. We have to focus on ourselves, don’t we? For our own careers? You have so much ahead of you and I can’t be there to celebrate it. And you can’t be by my side cheering me on from the stands. I love you, Lucy. But this isn’t working anymore.”
~
“Tyson, why would you say it like that? You think it’s been easy for me?” Lucy asked, throat a little choked.
“No, no, of course not,” he groaned.
“Then what do you mean?”
“Look, forget I said anything, okay? It was really good to see you, Luce.”
Before Lucy could say a word, Tyson walked away, leaving her alone in the kitchen with her head spinning. What the hell was that?
For the final few hours of the party, Lucy indulged in a couple more glasses of wine than she intended, sticking solidly by her parents’ sides. She did her best to keep a smile on her face and ease into the Christmas festivity, even when Laura and Kacey said their hellos, but her mind just kept going back to Tyson.
“We’re going to start saying our goodbyes, okay honey? Why don’t you find all our coats.”
Lucy just nodded at her mom’s suggestion, grateful for the opportunity to escape the crowd. Well, she was grateful, until she saw Tyson sitting on the bench next to the coat rack, face flushed and eyes glassy. He was drunk, at least moderately so.
“Ah, fuck, I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said, voice slurring.
What did he mean by that?
“I’m just getting our coats. We’re heading out,” she murmured, trying to ignore the whoosh in her stomach.
“Already?”
“It’s nearly midnight, Tys,” she said, smiling wryly.
“Well, fuck. Time flies when you’re having whiskey, I guess,” he groaned, putting his empty glass on the bench next to him.
She huffed out a laugh, unhooking the coats when she finally spotted them.
“You look good, Luce,” he murmured, looking up at her through his eyelashes.
“I do?” she blurted.
Damn it.
But Tyson just grinned. “Yeah, you really do. You always looked good, but damn you’ve really settled into your own skin, eh?”
“I love who I am, yeah,” she nodded.
She wasn’t lying, or even placating. Her studies in environmental impact had opened up a whole new side of her she hadn’t even realised was there, and she loved everything about the person she’d become through it. She just hadn’t realised it was obvious on the outside.
Then again, if anyone was going to notice something like that about her, it was going to be Tyson, wasn’t it?
“You’re too good for me.”
Oh fuck.
“That’s not true. Not even slightly,” Lucy said, frowning.
“No? I can barely get a team to keep me, and you’re soaring ahead with your academic career, just like you deserve,” Tyson scoffed.
This was just the alcohol talking. It had to be.
“Tys, those teams are the ones missing out. You’re amazing,” she said softly.
He paused for a moment, before shaking his head.
“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”
Because he had to put hockey first.
Because she had to put college first.
Because neither of them were each other’s first choice.
“That’s not fair, Tyson. We were kids when we first started dating. Barely 13 years old. And we were together for eight years! We had an incredible relationship! It just…we wanted different things. Our priorities were different, our passions were different – we might have grown up together, but we’d also grown apart. Your life is hockey and my life is academics, and that’s okay! That doesn’t mean we didn’t have love, yeah?”
The way that Tyson’s eyes filled up with tears made her own eyes water, dangerous lump rising in her throat.
“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”
His soft words tore a sob from her throat and she shook her head. How could he be so cruel?
“Don’t say that. We made the right decision five years ago and you know it,” she whimpered.
Tyson’s face fell at her devastated expression, and he staggered to his feet.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry,” he said sadly.
And yet here she was, broken hearted all over again.
“I should go. I need to go,” was all she could manage to choke out.
“Lucy, baby, please…”
But Lucy just shook her head, clutching the coats in her hands, shaky smile on her lips as the tears finally fell. “Merry Christmas, Tyson.”
~
“So what happened at the Christmas Eve Party that has you all torn up like this?”
Lucy flinched at her mom’s voice, turning her head to see her standing in the doorway to her bedroom.
“Nothing,” she said quickly.
“Uh huh, and I’m a fairy princess,” her mom snorted.
Lucy couldn’t help but giggle, earning a fond smile as her mom walked into the room and sat down next to her on her bed. Lucy placed a bookmark in the book she’d been reading to give her mom her full attention. She’d needed a little respite from all the preparations to hold her dad’s family for a late lunch, after all the intensity of having her mom’s family over yesterday on Christmas Day, but she’d found herself reliving her conversation with Tyson over and over.
“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you.”
“You’re too good for me.”
“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”
“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”
So really, her mom coming up to talk to her was a welcome break from all of that as well.
“If you know it was the Christmas Eve Party then you can take a guess,” Lucy said, shrugging.
“I’d rather hear it from you, when Tyson’s involved,” her mom mused.
Well at least her mom was blunt about it.
“We had a couple of conversations, and it stirred up old emotions, old drama. He…mom, he said he’d go back and change it all if he could. That he’d always choose me. What am I supposed to do with that?”
Her mom blinked a couple of times, lips parted in a surprised, before she coughed out a laugh.
“Well I could never accuse Tyson of being subtle.”
“Mom, seriously. This is stressing me out. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Lucy groaned.
“I think that’s an answer in itself, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“What?”
Her mom stayed silent, just nudging Lucy with her shoulder, and Lucy nudged back out of habit. What did she mean, that was an answer in itself?
“Lucy, honey, if you can’t stop thinking about Tyson choosing you above everything else, that means something,” her mom eventually said with a huffed laugh.
“But how can it? He still has his hockey, and I still have academics. Neither of those are going to change any time soon,” Lucy said sadly.
Because at the end of the day, that was the bottom line of it all. Their priorities haven’t changed.
“Just because your both still have your passions doesn’t mean that they have to be your only love. You can have both,” her mom said firmly.
What?
“How can I have both?” Lucy asked, confused.
“Do you love him?” was all she said.
“What?” Lucy said, surprised.
“Do you love him?” her mom repeated.
Lucy opened her mouth, shutting it again before huffing out a laugh. There was only one answer to that.
“Yeah, I never stopped,” she replied.
“Then you can have both. You spent the last five years missing him, and I know damn well that that boy missed you too - neither of you deserve that for another second. You can have both,” her mom said decisively.
She could have both?
How could she have both?
“You love him.”
“I love him,” Lucy whispered.
“Go get him.”
Lucy whimpered as she looked into her mom’s eyes, but she only saw warmth and encouragement. Her mom was right. She loved Tyson. She loved Tyson and if seeing him again this Christmas had taught her anything, it was that she was stupid if she tried to deny how much she missed him. If she didn’t tell him now, when would she?
“He leaves today. I need to go now,” she said suddenly.
“Well damn, okay then. Put on a sweater and I’ll find your snow boots,” her mom grinned.
Lucy felt like she was in a haze as she walked as quickly down the street as was safe, heart pounding as she spotted Tyson loading bags into his grandpa’s car.
“Tyson!”
His head whipped around at her shout, eyes going wide as he saw her walking towards him. Tyson shuffled down the driveway, missing Jim’s fond smile as he himself went back into the house, and the moment that she was standing in front of him, Tyson cupped his hands over her elbows to steady her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I love you,” she breathed.
Tyson whimpered, but Lucy wasn’t discouraged, not when she saw the wonder that filled his expression.
“You love me?”
“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t stop thinking about everything you said the other night,” she blurted out.
“Luce, I’m sorry, I know I upset you but…”
“No, Tys, it’s okay,” Lucy said, shaking her head as she interrupted, “While I stand by what I said, that we made the right decision at the time, maybe we could make a different decision now?”
“What are you saying?”
She could understand his hesitation, really she could. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t coming out with this out of the blue, after five years of nothing at all. After five years of heartbreak and heartache. But her mom was right – she missed him so fiercely and she couldn’t bear the thought of him not knowing that.
“I want us to start over new. I never stopped loving you, not for one moment. We could have both. We could have our passions and our love, and I hate that it’s taken me this long to even consider that? I miss you and I love you and I know you’re heading to the airport to fly back to Raleigh, but tell me I’m not crazy for thinking we could do this?”
Tyson’s jaw dropped as he processed her long rant, and it was only his firm grip on her elbows that stopped her from giving up hope.
“That was a lot,” Tyson said.
She winced. “I know, but…”
“And you poured out a lot of emotion there,” he interrupted.
Lucy kept her mouth shut this time, as much as she wanted to beg him to say more.
“It’s been agony for five years, for so many reasons, but hearing you say that you love me and you want to give our relationship another shot? I just…”
Tyson trailed off, letting out a long breath.
“I understand if I’m too late,” she murmured.
But Tyson huffed out a laugh, raising one hand from her elbow to cup her face in a gentle motion that had her breath hitching in her throat.
“There is no world in which you’d be too late,” Tyson said softly.
“Really?”
“I love you too, Lucy. I never stopped either,” he murmured.
She couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that tumbled from her lips, smiling back up at Tyson as he smiled at her.
“We’re really doing this?” she asked, giddy.
“Yeah, baby, we are. I don’t know how we’re going to do this, or what it’s going to look like, but we’re both adult enough to know how to put in more effort this time round right, yeah? I’ll fly home for the all-star break, and I’ll fly you out for spring break, and we’ll have video calls that neither of us are going to miss. And everything else. We’re going to make it work this time,” he said, tone serious but face grinning.
“And we’re going to communicate, yeah? When one of us is finding it hard? We’ll find little compromises, as we can’t do the big compromises. We’re worth it,” Lucy added, not caring that her cheeks were aching with her smile.
“Yeah, we are. I love you, so much Lucy,” Tyson grinned.
“I love you too.”
Tyson didn’t waste any time in leaning down to press his lips to hers, their last first kiss.
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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 days ago
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I have always seen you
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Salo x Lest
warning : kiss, hurt/comfort, drinking alcohol
Summary : He had been through all of Piltover's parties, knew every guest and had extensive connections. But he had seen such beautiful golden eyes and shiny fur before, but now that he was at a low point, he was ready to actually approach the pretty one instead of keeping quiet. Because a broken man had nothing left to lose and she wanted to make him better.
info : Thanks for the request @1v31182m5 the ship needs more works and art, it took me a while but i finally finished it, have fun reading ;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When he had entered the room just a few weeks ago, he had been greeted warmly, almost idolized. Green eyes wallowing in appreciation, blond hair that matched the red and white suit, fabric of the highest quality, gold on his body more valuable than anything else. The wine in his goblet imported and appreciated by his guests and hosts alike, he was at the top of his game.
But the highly esteemed Council member Salo was alone wherever he went, a woman, no husband and no family by his side. He was alone and when the doors of his mansion closed he couldn't stop himself from shuddering when he met the silence, a silence that was interrupted by his dreams.
Golden eyes seemed to haunt him, a soft fur he could almost feel and a voice calling him...but then all this old life, luxurious as it was, was all a lie, a lie that was torn apart with an explosion and Salo saw the bitter painful truth for the first time.
Of the moment the broken building ceiling landed on his legs, his scream barely heard in the chaos, and he felt a fear that let him know his legs were useless, a fear that made him sick, a fear that let him know he was an outsider in a city of lies, falsehood and snootiness.
He was the living lie to the residents, no one cared about the sick, the broken from the moment he sat in the wheelchair to the moment he walked into a room he saw nothing but ignoring and rejection. Salo had lost his face.
Another sigh and clink of the goblet was heard as he ran his hand over his face, his thoughts trying to drown in wine as he saw the soft brush but felt nothing, no coldness or warmth.
Useless.
His green eyes even if tired and exhausted looked back at her, his interest on her, ,,They hate me you know, a sight at every party at every damn invitation I was the guest of honor...and now-now I'm nothing more than a shadow to be avoided” he said bitterly, clenching the goblet on the side table and wishing the glass had broken, just broken and taken him away.
His help only responded with a nod, she mostly just listened anyway, a few words though he enjoyed her voice, his hand moving to her cheek she pulled back almost startled.
Golden eyes different from his, fluffy ears twitching around and a short, ,,Don't...Salo” as she tried to brush again but her payer didn't hear, his fingertip passing over her ear and a smirk on his lips, ,,You're soft” he said with fascination.
A response she did not expect, she was ignored, not spoken to, she was paid for her art not for what she was, a reality she had long accepted but Salo remembered.
He knew her, had seen her, at all the parties he'd been to that were a little more “special” in the back rooms behind velvet curtains, the purple paint shimmering on the bodies of her clients, ,,I...know you Lest...you were involved in the lying parties like me,” he said, sitting up to look at her better.
Words that made her pause, the brush no longer wandering over his legs and golden eyes avoiding his, nothing sated and instead he reached for the bottle to fill his glass further.
But he got no answer, instead she gripped her paintbrush tighter and quickly, saying nothing, she circled the couch, ,,You can't leave!” he suddenly shouted, fear rising in him as he realized she was leaving him.
Dropping the cup, he tried unsuccessfully to reach for her hand and almost fell off the couch, ,,I'll be back tomorrow,” she assured him coolly, not looking at him or taking his hand, his door opened and closed...and Salo, Salo was left broken once again.
Crying, screaming, cursing, the wine bottle crashed to the floor and he saw his reflection in the dark drink.
A likeness that startled him - tousled hair, a light beard, tired eyes - he wasn't even the rich businessman Salo anymore, he was just a broken cripple.
A fact that made him even more desperate and he reached for another bottle, but the sight of Les and her softness didn't seem to leave him even in this state.
~~~~~~~~~~
Lest, on the other hand, did not dislike him, at first she had even taken a liking to his luxury at the parties when she talked to him, painting him more often than not. But he always drank too much for her to remember him properly until today.
Integrity was something she kept, no one stayed with her for long and it was better that way, so why did she cheat herself and come back to Salo?
They both knew that the shimmer didn't work, it could heal wounds that were life threatening yes but not body parts that were already lost and yet she came back every day, ,,You have no idea how close you are to me...Salo” she mumbled as she put the brush in her bag and set off after him again.
Salos surprise was surprising and yet not unpleasant, his demeanor understandable and his fear justified...perhaps it was that on the brink of war, kindred spirits find each other.
He saw her for what she was, considered her right and did not misappropriate her work and she, she appreciated him as a person and not as an outsider.
Maybe that was what made her open the door and her heart beat faster to take him in, ,,Leeest” she heard his voice, slurring and shuffling as he seemed to still be lying on the couch.
Almost stunned, she looked at him, he looked like a broken peacock with barely any pretty feathers left, ,,You've been drinking, raging and all with justification...but don't make yourself more unworthy than you are Salo” she replied and locked the door.
No one should see him like this, no one would understand as she set the bag down and reached for a cloth and garbage can, deftly picking up the shards of bottle and goblet and holding the cloth under water in the bathroom before wiping the dried wine from the table.
She returned the room to its former glory before turning to Salo, who had been mumbling something apologetic the whole time, ,,It's none of your business,” he said, his voice clear as glass for a moment as she sat down with him and held out a vial of shimmer for the pain of his drinking.
Lest suppressed a sigh when she saw that he was still lying here, not having slept properly, ,,It doesn't...but two party guests of a special kind get along better than the gold-drenched inhabitants of this city,” she said and he opened the vial and drank the contents.
Saw that it tasted sweet and bitter as he grimaced and sat up to avoid looking like a hunchback, she ran a damp cloth over his face, held him a mirror as he combed his hair and carefully trimmed his beard all while glances of green and gold met again and again.
,,I will pay you for this, even if you didn't have to, I thank you for still seeing me as Salo and not as the broken one,” he said with a bitter grin as he looked down at his legs and was about to hide his face in his hands when she grabbed his hand.
A touch she agreed with, a touch he felt, he saw her warmth and kindness, ,,Healing can sometimes come from deeper feelings, not from drugs or money. Sometimes it's enough to have someone, someone in the world who understands you better than anyone else,” she said, not letting go of him and drawing closer to her.
She placed his hand on her cheek, soft fur was brushed by cool fingers, green met gold and she gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
A kiss from someone who cherished him, loved him and saw him for who he was, there was no wrong time between them.
A kiss that became a real short intimate one and two people were united in a look of green gold.
Salo was seen and Lest was not overlooked, they were two who could heal each other in a world that could no longer offer them anything, they had each other.
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rosewasalsohere · 2 days ago
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(AHHHH I LOVE THE ART SO MUCH MY CHILDHOOD IS SCREAMING RN)
Anyway! What is the crew’s favorite thing to do when they are bored?(sorry if the question is boring)
I like ur energy XD (I've been in the fandom for a while, too!)
I honestly didn't think I'd get questions anymore since I don't post stuff as often anymore, so the question isn't boring! I appreciate it, actually :]
ANYWAY! (Gonna involve the OCs, too)
Cuphead: Funny enough, drawing. I see Cuphead as some secret artist. He just doesn't talk about it because, and I quote, "Hey. No one asked!"
Mugman: Baking!! Bro would LOVE to make sweet treats for himself and others. Of he can't, he'll just talk and hang out with his brother.
Bendy: I feel like dancing would be obvious, as well as reading (specifically 'The Adventures of Felix the Cat' lol)
Boris: Practicing instruments! Gotta stay in tune, ya know?
Felix: Writing and research. And I mean like that research you do for fun when you're really curious about something.
Baccarat: Card games, probably. If he's lucky, he can convince someone to gamble something.
Idris: He's almost NEVER bored. But if he is, he'd probably be fine with doing whatever catches his attention and interest.
Diana: Drawing and reading. Sometimes, she'll even read a story and draw what she thinks a certain part would look like.
Thanks again for asking ^^
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tonycries · 2 days ago
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I just wanted to send you a little appreciation for all of your writing because I'm seeing on my dash that fanfic writers don't get enough appreciation and I don't EVER want you or any of the amazabong writers on this site to feel that way.
So anyways
GURL WOW YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD LIKE HOLY COW CAN I EAT YOUR BRAIN???? WHAT GLORIOUS STUFF GOES ON IN THERE LIKE HELLLLOOOO!!!!
MADAM GOJO? BANGER.
The one with feral clan head toji? Absolutest banger
Anything with choso? Chefs kiss
The list is so long like literally all of your works are in my likes which I like reading again and again and never get tired or bored of your writing like daddy tony, i have to say, your skillz are otherworldly
Please never stop writing whatever your heart desires to and never ever feel pressured to write something for your rabid readers, a majority of us, including me, appreciate and lkve you for your efforts, so don't forget that, okay?
K bye love you lmaoooooooooo
*SOBS REAL ALPHA TEARS* what if I bought myself a wedding dress, huh? What if I picked out a Gojo-themed venue, huh? What if I flew you out for our wedding, huh?
And ahhhhh this actually made my day sm, thank you for the kind wordsss <3 It's lovely, lovely messages like these that keep me going ehehe 💕
Also to answer your other ask-
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I've heard of ittt but I haven't actually used it because I've had some awful experiences having my work fed into AI (without permission) to be made into bots 💀 LMAO but they seem funnnnn I dunno if I'd ever use it though because 👿daddy's shy👿
Anyways, I hope you have the loveliest week mwah mwah mwah <3
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panacademics · 12 hours ago
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This is the only take I agree with. I've read enough about the race and both their exchanges and it's def ferraris miscommunication that fucked them both up. I'm a charlos fan, I appreciate both drivers, but last race was a shitshow cus of the team, not cus of them.
I'm pretty sure they'll realise and talk it all out cus they've been teammates since FOUR YEARS. They've had spats before lmao it's literally not that serious.
Anyway, it's all drama that'll die out soon. So there's that. Thank God.
Also the amount of hate that's there in the fandom?? For Charles, Carlos, Max, heck, for Lando?? Insane. Unprecedented. Unnecessary. Wtf is wrong with people?? You don't know these drivers personally??? Chill?? Damn.
Still seeing so much shit everywhere abt both charles and carlos, like it's reaching a peak.
I just don't understand why both fanbases are destroying the other, when the only one to blame is the TEAM. ITS FERRARI. THEY ARE THE PROBLEM!!!
I'm not even gonna talk abt the pitting calls, bc that was just one major fuck up after another. However, I will talk abt the absolute shite communication that ferrari had with both drivers that led to whatever war between fans is happening right now.
On one hand, we have ferrari telling Charles that carlos wouldn't overtake him, and on the other, we have ferrari telling carlos not to pressure Charles. Most of you might think it's the exact same thing, but it really isn't guys. In no way did Carlos pressure Charles. Carlos' tyres were 2 laps old. They were heated up. Charles was PARALLEL to Carlos upon pit exit (NOT ahead). Charles had new, cold, dead tyres, all carlos literally had to do was drive arnd him, there was no pressuring.
A lot of ppl are also talking about how the results for ferrari would've been much better if Carlos had let Charles past... yeah no. They wouldn't have. Mercedes was absolutely on fire this week. There was genuinely no way Ferrari could've gotten any better result than a P3 and P4, and telling one driver to give up a podium position just to try and cement your other drivers standing as SECOND place in the drivers standings?? Um... yh that's just in bad taste.
Also, ppl are arguing over the stat they showed that if the team would've just listened to Carlos' requests about pitting earlier, he would've ended ahead of Lewis. Personally, I don't think that would've happened, BUT I do believe there would've been a much larger chance of Carlos and Charles being closer to the Merc if Ferrari had just LISTENED to their drivers.
And abt this radio msg:
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I honestly don't think Charles was even talking abt Carlos here, this is just him talking abt the team. I feel Charles has ALWAYS blindly trusted the team, done whatever they told him to do. Then we have Carlos, he argues back. Tells the team what he thinks would be better. Ignores orders sometimes to do what he thinks would be better, and it ALWAYS is better. This is Charles being over it, and I'm glad. I'm glad he's over it. Ferrari need to get their heads out of their asses and listen to their drivers because it is reaching a point.
Sidenote:
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This radio msg mad me laugh so hard (literally as a carlos fan), idk why y'all are talking abt how it's XENOPHOBIC??? LMFAOOO that's a MAD reach. Carlos is literally a slightly tanned European man BWAHAHAHAH, as a POC I feel slightly mad abt all of u losing ur ahit over this yet when it comes to injustices done to ACTUAL POC drivers, everyone stays silent?? Yh shut up.
I feel u guys forget that this is a competitive sport where drivers are filled to the brim with adrenaline, ofc Charles is gonna make some comments when things don't go the way he thinks they will.
Anywayyy, that's my rant done. Just had to get all this shit out. Even if none of this is true or what acc happend I still stand with my drivers rights and wrongs, so Carlos my pookie dw I love you ur so real.
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emomomortal · 7 months ago
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apple on your head!! apple on your head!!
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babychosen · 2 months ago
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serendipity (Ch. 1/3, 2631 words) by Anonymous
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Angela Giarratana/Amanda Lehan-Canto
Summary: Two strangers, a kiss cam, and a free romantic getaway - what could go wrong?
i would like to dedicate this to (or just shoutout) the following people:
@sage-lights, @unknownteapot, @xxsuicidalravenxx, @okiankeno, @poppyfamily, and @shesmore-shoebill
big BIG thank you to all of you for writing fic and being supportive of this little amangela community. i would have quit fic a long time ago if it weren't for all of you incredibly kind folks and your inspiring works (and words!!)
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winterdaphne2 · 3 days ago
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Thank you so much for answering this! There's no need to apologize for a delay at all :) I know I'm late in responding myself, so I'm going to tag you here as well @asherlockstudy in the hopes you'll see this.
You've made some great points, so thank you for giving me the chance to think about all this again. I still think I have more thoughts and unanswered questions, though, so I tried to respond...and then wrote the below, which is basically an excessively long meta of my own thoughts on when John may or may not have realized. I'd be happy to hear what you think if you'd like to reply again, but there's no pressure :)
First, thank you for linking to your meta about "John's choices." It's been a while since I've read it, but I read through it again and I'm really glad you explained the scene between Sherlock and John in the entryway to 221B at the end of TEH. I'm intrigued by your point about how John tries to get Sherlock to open up in this scene. Relatedly, I agree with your comments on this meta about the train car scene. In that scene, Sherlock deliberately led John to believe that they were both about to die in the hopes that if John thought those were his last moments, he would finally open up about his feelings for Sherlock, admit that he was in love with Sherlock and not with Mary, and agree to leave Mary for Sherlock. But Sherlock misjudged the situation. John still wasn't prepared to face his feelings at that point. For John, the confrontation in the train car came too soon after Sherlock's return and before he'd had enough time to process how he truly felt about Sherlock being back. Sherlock was heartbroken when he realized that John wasn't prepared to open up and say more than he did at the graveyard, but when he saw this was the case, he revealed that he'd already turned off the bomb and used humor to diffuse the situation (which is a strategy Sherlock uses several times in S3 when he and John get themselves into emotional situations that he thinks they're unprepared to handle).
I especially appreciate your point about the entryway scene because your reading of this scene suggests that John might have only needed another day or two after that tense moment in the train car before he actually would be prepared to talk to Sherlock about his feelings. This fits so well with John's earlier behavior in TEH! When Sherlock first revealed himself to John at the Landmark, John was furious with him, and they clearly didn't part on good terms that evening. But the next day, less than 24 hours later, John had already cooled off and was counting down the hours until he could visit Sherlock after work. So perhaps John felt very similarly during and after the train car scene. At first everything happens too quickly for him, and he isn't prepared to reveal how he feels. But a day later, he's had time to process and he's ready to have a more honest conversation with Sherlock, if Sherlock seems receptive.
But of course, Sherlock doesn't understand this. Sherlock thinks that John gave him his answer in the train car and that John still isn't prepared to face his feelings for him and leave Mary. Part of the problem, I think, is that Sherlock never seems to have realized that John tried to visit him at 221B the day after he returned to London. John tried to visit Sherlock that day after his shift at the surgery, but he was kidnapped by Magnussen's men before he got up to the flat. And when John came to visit Sherlock after he rescued him from the bonfire, John didn't make any references to his earlier attempt to come to 221B. It seems like Sherlock was away from the flat and out with Molly when John came by anyway, so he couldn't have observed John on the pavement. So Sherlock never seems to know about this. He never realizes that all John needed was just one day to cool off. As a result, Sherlock closes himself off from John in the entryway scene, trying to mask how he feels as an act of self-preservation.
I am less convinced that John already knows about Sherlock's feelings by this point, though. After all, Moriarty kidnapped John to get to Sherlock back in TGG, and that didn't seem to prompt any epiphanies for John. John didn't seem to realize what Sherlock and Moriarty both had by the end of the pool scene—that Sherlock was in love with John, and that Moriarty could destroy Sherlock by either hurting John or damaging Sherlock and John's relationship.
I agree that by the time the stag night rolls around in TSOT, John has started to feel desperate and would be fully willing to cheat on Mary with Sherlock (or perhaps even leave her for him) if he felt that Sherlock gave him the go-ahead. During the stag night, Sherlock carefully tracks their alcohol intake because he believes that John truly wants to be with Mary and he's determined not to mess this up for John by allowing the two of them to cross their carefully-maintained boundaries with each other. John, however, has other ideas. John purposely spikes Sherlock's drink and takes extra shots himself in a deliberate effort to get them both drunk so that he can make a move on Sherlock. When they're back at 221B and playing the "forehead detectives" game, John does exactly that. But even though Sherlock seems relaxed and comfortable, John doesn't think Sherlock gives him enthusiastic encouragement, and he backs down. (LIST explains this in their meta here.)
To me, all of this indicates that John thinks there's hope that Sherlock might return his feelings, but he still has a lot of doubts. John has never gotten what he sees as a clear answer from Sherlock, so the fact that he thinks they both need to be drunk before he can try to make a move reveals that John doesn't feel completely confident about this. I think this likely demonstrates both that John isn't completely sure how Sherlock feels about him, and that John still isn't comfortable with what his love for Sherlock means for his own sexuality. John seems to have a lot of internalized biphobia in S3 (which is a whole other topic). And even though John knows that he isn't in love with Mary the way he is with Sherlock, and even though he might feel conflicted about settling down with her, he also seems reluctant to let go of his chance at a heteronormative lifestyle with Mary unless Sherlock is completely clear with him.
I've seen a few other people also point to that moment at the wedding reception, after Sherlock reveals that Mary is pregnant, as the moment when John finally realizes that Sherlock is in love with him. I think that's possible, but there's one thing that happens after this that really, really throws me off.
It's the scene between John and Lestrade at 221B in HLV after Sherlock escapes from the hospital. John says to Lestrade, "But why would he care? He’s Sherlock. Who would he bother protecting?" as he sits down in his own chair. And John looks genuinely confused when he say this. John!! In that moment, John still doesn't seem to realize that he is the most important person in the world to Sherlock and that Sherlock would do anything to protect him. Perhaps giving us even more evidence of this, Sherlock calls John's phone a few moments later, and John doesn't immediately answer. If we're following the phone = heart metaphor, then Sherlock is trying to reach out to John's heart, but John still doesn't get it and isn't immediately receptive. ("Answer your phone, I've been calling you!")
I agree that the scene between Sherlock, John, and Mary at 221B after they return from Leinster Gardens is an incredibly important Johnlock scene, but I read John's actions in this scene a little differently from how you do. It seems to me that John still doesn't realize that Sherlock is in love with him, and in this scene John feels furious at himself for being so in love with Sherlock when he believes that Sherlock will never feel the same way about him. John is angry at himself for never being able to let Sherlock go, no matter how hard he tries. Making things even worse, John thinks, when he tried to move on from Sherlock and find someone who wasn't like Sherlock, someone who could give him the safe, heteronormative lifestyle that he thinks he's supposed to want, the whole thing blew up in his face and led to this awful situation. So when John grits out "Always your way," to Sherlock, I think he's expressing his frustration that no matter what happens, he will always do things Sherlock's way. John is disgusted and angry at himself for being so hopelessly in love with Sherlock and unable to move on when he thinks that Sherlock will never love him back.
I do think it's possible that John finally figures things out at some point in HLV, though, and that's because of the waterfall scene in TAB. In that scene, we get this exchange:
Sherlock: Thank you, John. John: Since when do you call me “John”? Sherlock: (smiling tenderly) You’d be surprised. John: (smiling back at him) No, I wouldn’t.
As you and @ivyblossom said here, this is the moment when John reveals that he knows Sherlock is in love with him. And I also think that the way John delivers this dialogue and the tender shared smiles between him and Sherlock indicate that John is completely at peace with this. So if we read this scene as one of the many scenes in TAB that tell us something about the parts of the show that we've already seen, then this seems to give us proof that by the time Sherlock got on the plane in HLV, John had already realized that Sherlock was in love with him—and had perhaps even made peace with that.
If that's the case, but John still didn't know by the time of the scene between him and Greg in 221B, then I think it's most likely that John figured it out after Sherlock shot Magnussen. That was an incredible act of love and self-sacrifice on Sherlock's part, and even though John doesn't seem to immediately realize this in the moment, his behavior during the tarmac scene suggests that he might have figured it out afterwards. During the tarmac scene, John clearly telegraphs through his body language that he isn't prepared for an emotional goodbye with Sherlock. Sherlock picks up on this, and because Sherlock is so incredibly selfless and loves John so much, he backs down from his initial plan of finally telling John that he loves him. Sherlock realizes that John can't handle hearing that, so he once again switches to humor to try to diffuse the situation and to make John more comfortable. So, I think it's possible that John realized Sherlock was in love with him after he shot Magnussen, and that's part of why he's so upset and so unprepared for an emotional goodbye on the tarmac.
But...I say this mostly because of the waterfall scene in TAB, and I don't think the tarmac scene alone gives us definitive proof. It would still be entirely reasonable for John to feel and act the way he does on the tarmac because of his own feelings for Sherlock, without knowing that Sherlock is in love with him.
Ultimately, I think TAB still leaves things murky. There are two other possible readings of the waterfall scene, as I see it. First, all of this happens in Sherlock's head, so it's possible that this is simply what Sherlock wants desperately. Sherlock longs for John to realize that he's in love with him, to finally overcome his internalized biphobia, and to accept both his feelings for Sherlock and Sherlock's feelings for him wholeheartedly. So this could all be Sherlock's dream, but not his and John's reality at this point in the show. Alternatively, I also think the waterfall scene was initially intended to foreshadow a different ending to the show (one where Moriarty was actually still alive) that the creators abandoned for some unknown reason when they made S4. I know you've written about this scene as foreshadowing in your TAB metas! So perhaps we could also read the dialogue between John and Sherlock here as foreshadowing, indicating that John would eventually come to realize that Sherlock was in love with him and accept this. But he hadn't yet.
So in the end, I'm not sure that we have an answer as to whether or not John ever realizes that Sherlock is in love with him. The big thing that really throws things off for me is that one scene between John and Greg in HLV, because it really seems to indicate that John hadn't figured things out before that point. (If you or anyone else reading this has another explanation for that scene, though, I'd love to hear it!) If it weren't for John's dialogue in that scene, I could definitely see a lot of the other scenes in HLV as evidence that Sherlock and John both know about each other's feelings. And I also totally agree with you that something seems to have gone terribly wrong behind the scenes after S3, and the creators scrapped their original plans for the show's ending. To me, that's a big reason why TAB leaves things feeling so ambiguous. Since we'll never know exactly what the creators were planning for the rest of the show when they made TAB, it's hard to know if the waterfall scene was meant to provide commentary on events that had already happened, to reflect Sherlock's desires and nothing more, or foreshadow what was yet to come. And if it was intended to do some mixture of all three, then we don't know what that means for the Johnlock moment in that scene.
Anyway, thanks again for replying to my ask! I'm sorry I wrote something so long right back at you, but this post just got longer and longer the more I thought about everything! A big thank you to anyone else who might have stumbled upon this and read it 😊
Hi! If you're still open to answering Sherlock-related asks, I was wondering when you think John realized Sherlock was in love with him? I know you've said you think they both know about each other's feelings, and I'm with you on when Sherlock figures out about John. But I've never been able to quite figure out when John recognizes Sherlock's feelings. I think the waterfall scene in TAB implies that John knows, and I think he might know by the time of the tarmac scene. But I'm not sure. Thanks!
Hello! I am so sorry for this huge delay. I was busy IRL and at the same time a lot of stuff was happening in another fandom which is very active rn, so the ask was kinda staying behind. I know answered asks get a notification however I will tag you here too @winterdaphne2 to make sure you see this after all this time.
Yes, I strongly believe John knows by HLV. I talk about it a little in the meta "Why did Sherlock push John and Mary back together?" . The key phrase "Your way. Always your way" and the context within which it was uttered, John's confession that Mary was never supposed to be someone he would truly fall in love with (as opposed to Sherlock who was ticking all John's boxes, adventurous people living in danger etc) and Sherlock understanding it but pretending he didn’t and thus failing John and provoking more anger in him ("Why is everything...always... MY FAULT?!"), all those things make me conclude John knew by that point that Sherlock loved him and yet he was insisting on doing nothing about it. In other words, John knew the truth.
As to when he first realised, well we should keep in mind that John suspects Sherlock is gay from the very first day they moved in together because everybody who knows Sherlock insinuates it, Mycroft, Mrs Hudson, Donovan... The fact that from the Blind Banker onwards John suddenly becomes very heteronormative and defensive shows he feels a "threat" in the atmosphere, both due to his own impulses but also due to Sherlock's flamboyant demeanour, his habits, including casually walking around him naked (see John’s blog). In fact, when John starts suspecting Sherlock might be into the Woman, he's equal parts angry and startled. I suppose there was no way to know before the third season because Sherlock was so emotionally guarded, however he did hope, given his suspicions that Sherlock was gay and that their bond was unique and he was visibly an exception in how Sherlock treated people in his life.
At the wedding night John sees the sorrow on Sherlock's face and nearly has a heart attack. I think everything was confirmed there for him. However, I think the time he started landing on the conclusion for good was in TEH. This is the episode in which, after John is kidnapped and thrown into the fire, John keeps pressing Sherlock for an answer regarding why one would choose to harm him if it's Sherlock they are after. He is not truly wondering though. He lingers in the pavement (always a romantic affair, Sherlock tells us in the next episode) and then goes up and asks this with a very knowing look. Then again towards the end of the episode, in the staircase. His face screams suspicion, it screams tease, it screams expectation to finally hear Sherlock say it. Alas, Sherlock doesn't. Met with Sherlock's stubborness and with a wedding proposal looming over his head, John has no choice but to open up himself so he starts telling Sherlock that he went to his grave and "spoke" to him. Sherlock acknowelges this but again chooses to avoid the conversation John tries to start multiple times. John gives up and resumes his proposal to Mary. I think at this episode John finally knew for sure but he also realised that Sherlock was determined to not act on his feelings. I have made a more detailed analysis of this with pictures in the meta "John's Choices (from TEH to TLD)".
Besides, the next episode, TSOT, is the only time John actually makes a physical advance on Sherlock. Sure he was inebriated but I think John had SO many inhibitions anyway that even when drunk he would not be so bold if he wasn’t getting all the green lights of the world from Sherlock at that moment. So, he knew. He knew that if Sherlock dropped his fascade, he would want this.
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mintjeru · 8 months ago
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it probably wasn't the smartest decision to start an ongoing 1000+ chapter webnovel when i know it'll consume my every waking thought but here we are
open for better quality | no reposts
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xxplastic-cubexx · 19 days ago
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waiting for marvel to take you up as their comic artist so that we can have amazing art with cherik official storyline
marvel hire me to draw professor x and magneto making out sloppy style for forty issues straight you will get a BAJILLION dollars i promise
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hauntingwriteblr · 1 year ago
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The Worst Part of Loving You (Sumeru Guys)
A/N: weeeee back in angst hours friends🎉🎉
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Tighnari won't call you his or let you call him yours. You've been flirting back and forth for a while and he's more affectionate with you than anyone else, letting you get closer than any friend would. And yet, that's all he ever calls you. You've never heard him refer to you as more, even though you both act like it. What you don't hear is his conversations with Cyno when no one else is around, those nights when he expresses his true fear is overwhelming you. He is fully aware of his monogamous nature as a fennec fox and the moment he allows that dam to break, he won't be able to let you go, regardless of what either of you want. He can't- no, he won't make that choice for you, so he pulls as far back as he can let himself, not realizing how this borderline behavior is hurting you more.
Cyno doesn't want you to hide anything from him. Of course he understands you have a right to privacy and he respects your boundaries, but he also knows about the wary looks he receives from everyone else. Ever since he became the General Mahamatra, he has caused unease and secretiveness in those around him, and he couldn't stand for you to see him the same way. You shouldn't fear him, you shouldn't have to hide anything from your partner, so he tries to know everything he can. He always asks about your day, and follows up on his follow up questions, until it almost feels like an interrogation. If you hesitate to answer, he urges you to continue, wanting you to feel safe and heard, yet his pursuit of honesty may cause the very anxiety he is trying to prevent.
Kaveh is perfect, too perfect. The Light of the Ksharewar and genius architect behind the Palace of Alcazarzaray has a reputation to live up to after all. What kind of man would he be if he couldn't make his most beloved happy? He works so much harder than before, both to earn the money to spoil you(even if you insist you don't need it) and to make sure you never see... the less likable sides of himself. Can't have you worrying about him after all. He's not stressed about work, and no, his living situation doesn't bother him a bit! Not a trace of exhaustion or self-doubt to be found here! After all, what could ever concern him when he has you?
Alhaitham is single-minded. It's one of the traits you admired most in him in fact. The day he decided to pursue you, no distraction or obstacle could dissuade him until he was yours. These days however, you feel like less of a goal and more of an obligation. Everything has it's place in his life, and now that wooing you is no longer a priority, he's shifted focus to other things. Anytime you try to see him outside of your scheduled date nights, he brushes you off with explanations of being busy. Of course, he still spends time with you and is never late to or forgetful of your dates, so what's the issue? What's making your heart ache at the thought of him?
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padmesbox · 4 months ago
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Hangman Page birthday week → Day four: Favorite NJPW/ROH/indie moment
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imerian · 7 days ago
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。⁠*゚⁠+˖ St☆r ⁠ boy ˖+ ⁠*゚。
Casey Stoner collage
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Open the cut for more pictures and higher quality scans
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I needed to edit this scan together because collage was too big for my scanner but I'm not very skilled at it so i also added original scans so you can try yourself if you want to print it out or use somehow
And the best detail of the whole thing
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This is just to show how tedious of the work it was to put all stars on, i needed to use cut up twosided tape to this size so i can stick all of them, even the smallest and it was a bit of nightmare lol
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dreamofmetoday · 2 years ago
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PICK A CARD #1: WHAT DO PEOPLE THINK OF YOU
this is to tell you what common impression you give most people 💖
how to participate:
ask yourself, “what do people think of me?” and “how do people see me?”
choose the photo you feel most drawn to.
take as long as you need to choose, you can check more than one if you feel drawn to do so. however, if you are having trouble feeling called to any then this pick a card is not for you. these readings will be honest.
tip jar
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1. people think you are shy and distant, that you have trouble standing up for yourself and that you hang back and stay invisible while other people shine. people will suspect that you act in underhanded ways to compensate for how you can’t stand up for yourself - manipulating others, acting smarter than you are, copying others to try and seem more appealing. they think you are giving and patient with others but work best behind the scenes and that you could be suited to teaching and guiding others in a quiet way. they think you hide your emotions, have deep thoughts and prefer to do solo activities.
2. people think you lack real direction in life, that you prefer to go wherever life takes you and that you are not stable. they think you are restless and that it causes you to act agitated, frustrated, strung out and even argumentative. they think you worry a lot and that you focus too much on missing out on things or focusing on what you don’t have and not appreciating what you do. despite the chaotic nature of your energy, people think you always land on your feet and have the energy and skill to keep yourself afloat. people think you keep many secrets and don’t trust your stories, believing that you lie a lot. they think you’re afraid to be alone.
3. people think you are magnetic, well put together and likely physically attractive. they think you rely on praise a bit too much for your own good and that you may not be as confident as you try to portray or wish to be. people think you are talented or pick up on things easier than others. they also think you have a good sense of timing and things seem to go your way even when you don’t deserve it. people think you indulge in gossip often and don’t trust you to be honest or be loyal. they think you don’t make good romantic choices or that you are too focused on waiting to be saved romantically.
4. people think you have a big head and that you can’t see yourself clearly, that you act more arrogant and entitled than you deserve. however, people do respect that you have good leadership qualities and don’t always mind that you put yourself in the position to be the boss, trusting that you will at least try to be fair when you feel you are being treated correctly. people fear your anger, thinking you are easy to get along with and then all of a sudden your mood switches and you are too angry - a volcano randomly erupting. they think you have good social skills and people may open up to you randomly and confide in you, but at the same time they think you are also cold and can become mean.
5. people usually like you easily, finding you warm, charming and approachable. people think you are a good conversationalist, a good listener and think you have high emotional intelligence. people think you are generous, giving and patient. they think you are good at being considerate and people often want to confide in you and think they can trust you. however, people also see you as slightly arrogant and self-centred and that you kind of wait for others and the world to come to you, that you don’t make the effort to be proactive and go after people or things yourself (that you can be lazy and lack purpose). people will also think that you can be fake and that you change your personality to fit certain situations or that you tell people want they want to hear and not what you really feel or think.
6. people think you are romantic and desire this strongly. they think that you hold onto toxic things, can’t let go of what’s not working and that you don’t stand for anything real. but at the same time, people think that you are never satisfied and always searching for greener grass - that you complain and self-victimise. people respect that you try and be empowered but think that you go about it in a way that lacks humility and integrity - that your “boundaries and standards” are sometimes just created in an attempt to get people to cater to you. people think you are anxious to please people you admire and can be overly loyal to them. people think you have trouble seeing things clearly and also think you are indecisive.
7. people think you are highly resilient and clever. people see you as someone who cannot be taken down easily and that you’re very switched on and street smart. people see you as highly loyal, responsible and dependable and think you easily connect to others and inspire trust in other people. people also think you have a childlike, playful and innocent quality so they are not walking on eggshells around you, but at the same time they find you judgmental, serious and think you have the ability to be very cruel. people think you are observant and know many secrets about people. you’re seen as heavily burdened but that it could also be your fault to an extent, this makes you also seen as a bit closed off and people think you prefer keeping to yourself.
8. people see you as very dramatic and that you “always have something going on”. people think you complain a lot, that you are depressive and mentally weak. they think you daydream about a better life but don’t really put action into it. people think you’re insecure and that you prefer to be more of a wallflower and watch people rather than participate in life. people think you lack common sense and the stuff you say seems very ungrounded. people think you prefer focusing on creative activities in your spare time and assume you may be into art, writing or consuming a lot of media.
9. people think you are someone who is very anxious and overthinks. people think that you easily get yourself into a rut and have periods of very low self-esteem and drive but that you manage to pull yourself out of it and make sure you get done what needs to get done - people see you as very up and down and unbalanced. people also think you don’t know what you want and you seem lost. people think you’re very secretive and that you are shy, nerdy and studious. people think you are not stubborn or arrogant and that you remain open to listening and learning. they also think you’re messy, don’t do chores and that you’re also likely unkempt.
10. people think you are a go-getter and that you don’t let life pass you by, that you take it upon yourself to earn money or create solid foundations to expand upon and that you can be a rock in others’ lives too - that others depend on you. people think you are a good worker but sometimes ruthless and amoral. however, people often believe you have your heart in the right place and that you have a lot of people you care about. people think you have a naive and unpredictable side, that you are attracted to “bad” things and have a tendency to indulge in things or people that could result in harmful consequences later (without thinking it all through properly). people think that you try hard to be the bigger person but that you only do it to be praised for being the bigger person and not out of true care for others or the situation.
11. people think you are always running away from problems, when things get tough (especially romantically) you just leave and start over and don’t see things through - you can’t settle in one place. people see you as fake happy and that your joy and positivity is a mask for deeper sadness. people think you are lonely and that you enjoy searching for answers and deeper meaning in things and hate superficiality - people may think you’re into things such as tarot and astrology and take it seriously, hoping it will give you all the answers.
12. people assume you have been hardened a bit by life but they think that you are generous, giving and wise (that you truly try to learn from your experiences). people believe that you are giving in an honest and true way and that you do it because you are a good person, but people think you can be overly submissive and that people try to take advantage of you - especially romantically or in the sense that people will sleep with you and then leave you after having gotten what they wanted because you overestimated them. people think your boundaries and standards are unclear and you don’t know when to give more and when to give up. people think you’re pretty emotional. people think you’re a bit awkward and have trouble maintaining a stable sense of identity (that you don't really know yourself).
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