#thanks for the ask ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[theetherealbloom]

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

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

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

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

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

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

Word Count: 5.7k

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

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

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

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

gif by @a7estrellas

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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

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

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

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mayasaurusss]

hey how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx taking the reader's virginity. thanks ❤️🫰🏻

My favorite piltie

A/N: Hello! I am okay anon, thanks for asking! Just a bit sad that tomorrow Arcane will end😭.

I want to make it clear that I tried to do this before the next act drops, so I wrote it in two days and some things might not be very good, but I hope you will enojiy it nonetheless!!

Contains: female reader, detailed description of a wound, smut. All characters are 20+ years.

2,8 K/4 pages

When Jinx came knocking at your door tonight, you didn't think you'd end up in this position: her hands gripping at the skin of your chest and with her head buried in it.

The beginning of your night had kicked off with a strange twist when you heard a knock on your fifth floor appartment's window. You gulped down your fear and with a fast beating heart, looked past the window's glass to see a crouching figure with bright pink eyes staring at you. Any other occasion and you would have died on the spot, but you knew who she was. As soon as you opened the window, the figure let herself in, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of your room. "You are so nice letting me in, piltie" she said, and you don't miss the venom laced in the last word she spoke. "Your people aren't really known to be kind" her long fingers mess with the many little trinkets displayed on your shelves, checking their mechanisms and turning their gears.

"What do you want, Jinx?" you can feel a tingling sense of anger inside your skull at her continuous teasings.

You still remember the first time you had seen her, running from enforcers and covering her wounded shoulder.

You knew how ruthless they could be, especially since Miss Kirramman had taken control over the city. In a strange turn of events, you had found her curled up in one of Piltover's abandoned alleys and brought her with you to your home, taking care of her for the next few days until you found your window open and the blue haired criminal nowhere to be seen. During that time, you grew fond of her and were sad when she disappeared. Some weeks had passed and your life continued to flow normally, until she showed up at your door again. You were actually kind of amazed by the fact that she managed to sneak inside the appartment's building without being noticed, but after the third time, when someone called the enforcers on her, she had begun to climb on the building's exterior and knock at your window instead.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to pay a visit to my favorite piltie" she falls back on your bed, sizing you up from head to toe with that smirk of hers that makes your heart beat faster. "That's all?" the mattress dips under your weight as you sit next to her, always keeping your eyes on hers. "Mhmm, maybe" she fishes something from a bag -one you've just noticed- and shakes it: a small glass globe filled with water and fake flakes of snow. The tallest buildings of Piltover reflect the warm lights of your room, making the city of progress look ethereal under the glass. But it wasn't the shiny buildings or the snowflakes that got your attention, but a small name made with metal and gear parts glued to the bottom of the globe. "No way...is this a real Valdiani?!" the shock in your voice makes Jinx's heart flutter, something that she has never experienced before.

She lets out a proud snuff of air from her nose, pushing her chest outwards, "Consider it a gift for my fav- shit!" the sudden swear catches your attention and you look over to see Jinx doubled over. "Jinx! What is going on?!" It's faint, but you can see her hands wrapped tightly around her left side, traces of blood seeping from between her fingers. "Oh shit! Jinx what happened?" she lets out a breathless chuckle, her skin suddenly far paler than normally. "Hah, just some gift the bluebellies have given me" she sucks in a breath when you move her hands, biting a scream away. A deep wound runs along her side, pus forming where her skin had been pulled back from the slash, bleeding red on your covers. You run outside of your room and collect gauze, antiseptic, healing creme and a glass of water.

"Here, bite this" you hand her an old cloth, which she promptly places in between her teeth. "Ready?" she nods, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. The heat of your hand is the only thing that brings her comfort. She isn't ready though when you pour the liquid over her wound: it feels like billions of needles stinging and burning her flesh, making her want to vomit.

"There there, it's over..." you quickly dry her skin and massage the healing cream on her, finally finishing when you cover her stomach with the gauze. She releases a huff of relief, mindlessly tangling her fingers with yours. When the pain subsides, she realizes how close the two of you are. You on your knees, her panting and sweating, how close you are to her and how fast her heart is beating. It would take a second, just a second for her to reach for your lips and melt into you...

"Uh... I- uh, just-, what happened?" you try to not sound too shy but your voice gives your feelings away. "I..." Jinx's throat bobs and it seems that she'd rather curl herself up like a hedgehog than admitting whatever she did. "You know, the usual. Went on a walk, stormed a shop, stole some things, got the enforcers called on me and..." she gestures towards her side, "...this happened".

Jinx isn't clear with her words, but something about the blush on her skin hints at the fact that there may be something else underneath her facade. You might try at least, right? Reaching for the glass globe, you twirl it in your hands, watching the snowflakes fall on Piltover. "Jinx...did you get chased after stealing this?", she doesn't answer, but her shy silence is enough for you.

"Why? Why do this for me?" she pouts her lips before answering, still held back by some sort of pride. "W-what can I say? Anything for my favorite piltie...".

A heavy silence fills the room, of the kind that is difficult to bear.

You can't believe it. You just can't believe that she'd be so reckless, so stupid! It's difficult to bite your anger back, but you do so, and instead of crying or screaming or scolding her, like Jinx thought you were going to do, you just hug her tightly against your chest. Your grip is so strong against her that she feels like she'll choke on it.

But you are so warm in comparison to her body, so, so warm. For the first time in a while, after Silco's death, after Vi's betrayal, after everything went to shit, she feels like she can breathe. And so she does, inhaling your scent in between, tasting it on her tongue. When you pull back, Jinx's eyelids are heavy with want, her mouth slightly open and her skin red.

It takes a second for her lips to push against yours, for her hands to come up and grab your face and pull you down towards her. The kiss is surprisingly tender for it to be Jinx's: you expected teeth and tongue, not pecks and soft touches. The way she sighs and runs her hands on your chest has you keening for her. "Jinx..." a small line of spit connects your lips, and before you can say anything else, she wipes it off on your bottom lip and sighs, "You know what piltie? I think I deserve something too".

Blinking at her a couple of times, she groans at your naivety and continues while taking your cheeks in her hand. "It has been a hard day for me: running from enforcers, bleeding all the way here... I think I deserve a gift too".

And that's where you are now, naked from the waist up with Jinx on your lap, diligently taking what's hers. The way her tongue teases your nipple is something to die for. It seems all her softness has died with the kiss you shared before, now tugging and biting every part of you. You gasp as she bites your nipple, leaving the indents of her teeth on the delicate skin.

"If I knew I could see you all shy and fidgety-" she tugs your left nipple with her long fingers, smiling cruelly when tearing a gasp from you, "...I would have done this earlier". Her lips leave your right nipple, spit chilling the skin, before she teases both of them with the point of her fingernails, moving and tickling them.

Jinx lets out one of those cruel laughs of hers before diving right back on your nipple, giving it one last kiss and moving towards your stomach. She kisses and strokes every one of your scars, every mole or freckle, every inch of skin, until she comes across the hem of your pants. "N-No wait, Jinx..." you place your hand on her forehead, strands of blue hair falling in between your fingers. She halts immediatley at your discomforted voice, billions of little alarms going off in her head and an attentive yet scared look in her eyes. "What is it?".

"I... I have to tell you something" and with that, her heart beats faster and faster and that obnoxious voice inside her head speaks; 'You've hurt her' and 'Look at what you've done' and 'Did you really think she would genuinely like you?'. But your voice is stronger than theirs. "Hey? Is everything alright? We don't have to do this" in the meantime, your hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking at the pale skin. "Yeah I- I am okay. And I want to" her own fingers close in on you and she takes a moment to breathe. Your own warmth is one of the only things that can make her calm. When the voices blur away and only you and her are left, she opens her eyes again, your reflection sharp inside their pink. "What do you have to tell me?" now it was your time to take a breath, because knowing Jinx, she could have two reactions over your news: making fun of you or absolutely losing her shit. "I... I am a virgin".

She takes a moment to process the information and then lets out a wheezing laugh, making blood rise quickly to your face. "That's it?! I thought I accidentally hurt you or something!". The only thing you can do at this point is pout and look away offended. "Oh come on toots" her hands take a hold of your face before turning you to her, who is smiling softly and with tenderness. "I am just kidding. Don't be so moody. And besides..." she captures your lips, biting and licking and sucking until they darken, leaving a faint trace of blood where her teeth were, "...It's so fucking hot".

The descent to get to her prize is tedious and long, but Jinx can't help but want to savor each one of its steps. Her fingers finally hook on the hem of your pants and pull down, revealing your naked thighs to her; the only thing stopping her from claiming her prize is the fabric of your underwear. "Wait a second..." despite how cute you look to her, Jinx rolls her eyes at yet another one of your attempts to stop her. "What, toots? You don't want me to fuck you?" your eyes widen when she so bluntly says that, without an ounce of embarrassment on her face, but continue. "What?! N-no I want to....it's just that..." you eye Jinx's position on the floor. "The wound might be painful if you crouch... I don't want you to hurt yourself".

"So, what do you want me to do?". You look back between Jinx and the plush, comfortable bed, a lightbulb popping off on your head. "Lie on the bed", you say, making Jinx blink a few times before processing and understanding your intentions. "Ohh, I didn't take you for the kinky type, toots". She crawls over the bed, making sure to look as alluring as possible, then lies down with her head pressed on one of your pillows. "There. Do you like this more?" the way that she's so smug about it, with that stupid smirk of hers, makes you want to choke her to death.

"Shut the fuck up", you follow her, placing yourself on each side of her head, feeling her hands rise on your tighs to curl on the soft fabric she so wishes were to disappear. "Hmhm, alright" she eyes the patch of cloth that has begun to show a wet stain, images of what she is going to do to you already flashing in her mind. But this position prevents her from sliding them off without you having to move away from her, and she'd rather keep you and your pussy here. "You know, as much as I love how cute you look with these..." you only have a brief moment to see a malicious glint in her eyes, before she tears your underwear apart, leaving you naked in front of her "I'd much rather have you bare". "Jinx! I just told you to shut up!" it doesn't help that she doesn't mind you and whistles loudly, making you feel more and more embarrassed. "And I -shut up!-. And-and those were expensive! Do you know how-!" but all your words die in your throat when she, with a strength you didn't know she had, pulls you flat against her mouth.

She licks your clit like a starved woman, like it will be the last meal she'll ever have. She doesn't dive right in your pussy, instead takes her sweet time to torture you, making you wish she'd just fuck you already. "Jinx...please, I-" she opens her eyes to see you above her, naked and panting with pleasure, something she only ever dreamt of seeing.

She can't say no to her favorite piltie. Her cold hands grab your ass, propping you up in a new angle on her face so you can't move, but she can do everything she wants to. She spends the next minutes milking your pleasure out of you, before pushing one finger slowly inside of you. You gasp in pain at first, a small trickle of blood wetting your skin and her fingers, and after a few minutes, feeling need arise from the depths of your guts. Jinx's eyes widen when she first feels you move atop her fingers, riding them messily; and she already has a new idea. "No, none of that toots" with her left hand, she yanks your hips down on her fingers, preventing you from moving further. Her next words feel like ice cold water on naked skin; "I won't make you cum if you do it again" and as if that wasn't bad enough, she emphasizes her point with a trust of her fingers. "You will be a good girl, won't you?".

"Yes, yes, yes I will be a good girl..." her smile is all you see before she disappears underneath your thighs. As soon as you get used to the alien feeling of her fingers inside of you, her pace is unrelenting; fast and hard, torturing your clit with her lips. She takes your hips and places your slit directly onto her tongue, forcing you to grind down on it. When you start to wheeze from her touches, she decides to move onto the next phase of her plan. "Hey baby, get up a sec" you would rather keep on grinding on her tongue, but comply anyway. You get up, putting ditance between your slit and her mouth, but while you do, she directly shoves in her fingers, making your legs almost give out. With her other hand she pushes you until your ass is flat against her lap. "Come on, bounce" you don't let her repeat herself twice, already fucking yourself on her fingers at the best of your abilities. What she's seeing is far better than anything she could have ever dreamt of: her favorite piltie bouncing up and down her fingers, eyes heavy and panting above her. And your movements on her own crotch only make her feel more and more euphoric. Oh, if only she could feel you... When she curls her finger on that spot that has you keening, you finally come undone; finger intertwined, billions of stars exploding beneath your eyelids and electricity coursing through your veins. You collapse on her, skin against skin, puffing and gasping for each breath. Your whines reach Jinx's ears and right now, she wants nothing more than to tear orgasms upon orgasms from you, but she'll have to wait.

You roll over, taking a place near her on the bed, shivering from the intensity of your first time. And when Jinx, with a horrifyingly both sweet and sadistic smile turns to you, excitement clear on her face, your pussy clenches around nothing and your blood turns to ice. "So, wanna go again?"

[officeobject]

Also, while reblogging this, Imma highlight this:

fatmafamily6

3h ago

fatmafamily6 asked:

Hello everyone🙂👋

yourhelp means a new life for me and my family , especially my little daughter And also my little son lt is also compassion for the sake preserving human life✨❤️

My donation link is in my bio *Support my family* Please share

Can you reblog me pinned post from my account? 👈

Thanks for your time 🤍

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #227 )✅️

https://gofund.me/a399c874

Please block gaza-scam-alerts. The account is not a real scam busting blog, they are sharing posts that accuse all Palestinian gfms of being scams if you take a glance. Don’t harass/etc. Just block.

Don’t trust any ‘scam alerts’ they might make.

[maple-and-pie]

It's Eevee time!

For eevee day, I asked for my kofi server to send me a ref of an oc to be hit with the eevee-beam! It was a ton of fun, but as you can see I got a lot of them so it took a bit to draw them all! I do like how they all turned out, and I also got to draw my glace as a vee so that was fun XD

Thank you all for sending in a ref and for the fun times ❤️

[micahulrichdraws]

"Life" & "Personal Growth", inked.

Ain’t a tattoo guy myself but I don’t mind folks getting my art inked, I just ask that anyone who wants to get it done considers picking something up from my online shop or purchasing a tat flash to help let me keep making my art! Thank you all so much for your support! ❤️

[xo100]

Hi there!! Could I ask Lando with a singer or a dancer reader?? They are already dating, but haven’t made it officially yet to the public. Lando surprises the reader by attending to the readers tour and fans are going feral about him being there, because it’s a “duo” they didn’t knew they needed. After the show he comes backstage to the reader and they make the relationship public with the pictures of them being backstage or something. Just really sweet and fluffy. Thank you❤️

A surprise in the spotlight - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 781

*:･ﾟ A/N: hey loves! I just wanted to let you know that I have another blog called @norrisxwrites on this blog I will reblog your reblogs. I’ll reblog my posts and other posts! Go check it out if you want posting there soon! Enjoy the fic!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The stadium buzzed with the excitement only a sold-out concert could bring. The energy was palpable, like a living, breathing thing, as fans spilled into their seats with glowing bracelets and homemade signs. This was your tour, the biggest one yet, and it had been months of grueling rehearsals, endless interviews, and nights spent missing the man who’d somehow slipped into your life and turned it upside down.

That man, Lando Norris, Formula 1’s rising star and everyone’s favorite cheeky Brit, was supposed to be halfway across the world, prepping for the next Grand Prix. At least, that’s what he’d told you over FaceTime just two days ago.

But Lando had never been great at following the rules—especially when it came to staying away from you for too long.

-

It wasn’t until the third song of the set that whispers started spreading through the crowd. Something was happening near the back, a ripple of excitement weaving its way forward. The screens overhead briefly panned across the audience, and there he was, seated among the fans in a hoodie and cap pulled low but not low enough to fool anyone.

The stadium erupted.

“Is that Lando Norris?” someone screamed.

“He’s at her concert?” another gasped.

The internet moved faster than the speed of sound. Within moments, Twitter was ablaze with shaky screenshots and wild speculations.

-Are they dating?!- -This is the crossover I didn’t know I needed!- -Lando and Y/N??? MY HEART.-

Onstage, you were mid-chorus, but the sudden roar from the crowd was hard to ignore. Your eyes scanned the sea of people, your heart stuttering when you spotted him. Lando gave a small wave, his smile tugging at the edges of his mouth like he couldn’t quite contain it.

You fought the urge to break character, biting back a grin as you returned your focus to the performance. But your cheeks were warm, and the butterflies in your stomach were undeniable.

-

The show ended with an encore, the crowd’s energy lingering in the air as fans slowly filed out. You darted backstage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, only to stop short when you saw him leaning casually against the wall near your dressing room.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Lando said, his voice warm and teasing.

You couldn’t help it—you threw yourself into his arms, the scent of his cologne instantly grounding you. He caught you effortlessly, his laughter soft against your hair as he held you close.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your words muffled against his chest.

“Surprising you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Missed you too much. Figured it was time I crashed one of your shows.”

Your heart swelled. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Only for you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your waist. “You were incredible out there. I mean, I knew you were good, but seeing you like this…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

The sincerity in his voice left you momentarily speechless, your cheeks heating under his gaze. “You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Norris. Though I think you’ve caused a bit of a stir.”

Lando smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Oh, I noticed. Your fans are relentless. Think I saw my name trending on Twitter halfway through the third song.”

“Serves you right,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice gave you away.

-

You didn’t plan to go public with your relationship that night, but when your manager walked in, phone in hand, and said, “We’ve got paparazzi swarming the back exit,” you knew it was inevitable.

Lando squeezed your hand, his touch steadying. “If you’re ready, I am.”

“You mean it?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He kissed your forehead, and in that moment, everything else faded away. The chaos, the cameras, the noise—it all felt distant, insignificant compared to him.

The two of you walked out together, hand in hand, the backstage photographer snapping candid shots that would be on every gossip site by morning. You didn’t care.

Later, in the car, Lando scrolled through the early posts. He turned his phone to you, showing a picture of the two of you backstage, mid-laugh, your fingers laced together.

“‘The duo we didn’t know we needed,’” he read aloud, chuckling. “Not bad, huh?”

You leaned against his shoulder, your smile soft. “Not bad at all.”

And as the city lights blurred past the windows, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr

[gay-dorito-dust]

hiii can u plssss make headcanon for mr scarletella w a reader whos very stern or careless? Like, you can NAWT make jokes or make a conversation with this person because even if u text them its either: 1) they reply a year later or 2) they just send a ❤️ Reaction to your text. Like reader can not turn their frown upside down at all…

I hope this is what you wanted.

He finds your stern nature intriguing and appealing to him. Very appealing to him to say the least.

Does this sternness and Inability to smile and or laugh at a simple joke hinder his attraction? Does it fuck, he’s still very much interested in you to an obsessive and dangerously delusional level.

If anything Mr Scarletella enjoys filling the air with his one voice, telling you of his obsession with you and you’re not saying anything in response, only giving him a sideways glance, so that must mean you reciprocated them right? Right?!

He’d most likely talk your ear off and you can do nothing but listen to him, praying that you can at some point tune him out or something, knowing that Mr Scarletella would just follow you closely like a puppy dog. There was no true escape from this man and he’s too delusional and inside his own head to give you any breathable space.

Mr Scarletella would often keep asking you ‘you like me?’ And all he’d get was either a shrug or a grunt. Not having been much of a conversationalist as most people found your nature off putting and so they just avoid you all together.

Not Mr Scarlettella though, he was convinced that the grunts and shrugs were full sentences, thriving off of the idea that you’d only grunt and shrug towards him while giving everyone else a stoney stare or nothing at all. He genuinely believed that and it was terrifying to think of the implications of what he’d do if he believed someone else thought similar to him.

Death essentially but we all knew that. The man is not exactly stable in any sense of the word.

You don’t even bat so much of an eyelid when he gets up close and personal to your face, giggling like a lovesick school boy as his eyes darted across your face, taking in all the details and features you possessed that were uniquely yours and yours alone. Giving himself all the more delusional fantasies of you acting extremely out of character and clinging onto him, demanding for affection and so forth.

He’s most likely the type to fall for an idea of an person and if they act outside of what he believes them to be, he’ll either deny it as he tries to rewrite the image he has of you to better suit his fantasies, not wanting to think about how his false reality of the truth could easily make him even more unhinged.

Seriously the idea of someone not living up to his expectations that he’s made up is a thought you didn’t want to think about too deeply, especially with not how eager he is to kill for you, and instead remain truthful to yourself and keep an eye on him in case something happens.

Since your stern persona and people’s inability to make conversations or jokes with you, Mr Scarletella would find this more easier as he didn’t have to worry about someone taking you away from him. You were his and his alone and he had your nearly unapproachable expressions to thank for.

No competition for your heart? No worries for him as it meant he could cling onto you, continuing to ask whether you liked/ loved him throughout the day while kissing your face and pulling back in hopes of seeing if any change in your expression.

There wasn’t and Mr Scarletella hasn’t fallen for you harder then he already did.

[operationladybug]

Post for @mariandhamza ❤️🙏

"My name is Alaa, I am a Palestinian mother of two children: Maria and Hamza, as well as a wife and daughter... After 7th of October, my life turned upside down due to the war on Gaza. On the night of October 28th, the neighborhood we lived in Gaza – the neighborhood where my children grew up and where we started our family – was completely bombed... That night, my children and I witnessed unimaginable things – from casualties to bloodshed and bodies.

The suffering didn't end there. We fled... As evening approached, the bombing intensified in the area... We lost our ability to see clearly and had difficulty breathing, so I had to put wet masks on my children's faces in a desperate attempt to protect them. Their screams and fear didn't stop. I didn't know if we would survive. I held them close, trying to calm them, while sadness crushed my heart...

Eventually, we were forced to flee to the south... Rafah was overcrowded with displaced people, and we could only find a small tent lacking the necessities of life. My children suffered from epidemics and skin diseases caused by the pollution in the camp. Unfortunately, my little daughter Maria was infected with viral hepatitis due to the shared bathrooms in the camp. After miraculously escaping death with my children, I realized there was no safe haven in Gaza. With multiple displacements, we faced the harsh reality of lacking basics like water, food, and medicine, and the inability even to perform basic activities like bathing, eating, or accessing clean water.

We lost everything: our home, our jobs, our dreams. My biggest worry is for Hamza and Maria, their future is uncertain. Where will they live, study, and grow up? Gaza offers little hope now, as the essentials of life are being destroyed. My children's future seems bleak, overshadowed by uncertainty.

Today, I ask for your help. I ask for support for me and my children to recover from the traumas of the war we experienced. To have a new warm home for my family, to help my children go to school and get decent education, and to assist us in starting our lives anew. To live from the beginning once again. Your support is our hope and our future for a new chance in life for my children. Thank you for being a part of restoring hope and stability in our lives."

DONATE, REBLOG SHARE.

If you have the spare cash, which I know many of you do, please take the time to donate even a small amount to this struggling family. Imagine what you would want you to do if you were in this situation, and whatever it is, do it.

Reblog, add this post to your queue a couple of times, and share to your personal and friendly Discord servers.

We are all counting on your action.

[deliciousangelfestival]

You're The One - 4

Summary: A daughter uncovers the wild, untold story of how her parents’ marriage began—and it’s way better than any romance movie she’s ever watched.

Character: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Comedy

Words Count : 1,654

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Present Day

“Nu-uh.” Bucky glanced at his watch. “She’ll be here any minute, and I need to get to the airport.”

“I’m coming with you!” Jade yelled, already bolting to her room to change.

“Why the sudden interest in coming along?” Bucky called after her.

“Because you won’t tell me the rest of the story, so I’ll ask Mom instead!” she shouted back.

Bucky froze for a moment, muttering under his breath, 'Well, shit.' Then he called out, “Her version will be way more dramatic!”

Jade popped her head out of her room, gasping with excitement. “I have to hear it from her now! Let’s go!”

After a long drive, the two finally arrived at the airport. Standing near the arrival gate, Bucky shifted impatiently while Jade scanned the crowd.

Finally, you appeared, wheeling your suitcase behind you.

“Mom!” Jade ran toward you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

You blinked, startled but touched. “Jade? I didn’t expect you to come along with your dad!”

Speaking of which, Bucky huffed quietly, clearly annoyed that he missed the chance to hug you first. Instead, he settled for a side hug, leaning in and murmuring, “Welcome home,” before grabbing your suitcase.

You smiled warmly and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”

“I thought you’d be staying another week,” he said as the three of you began walking to the car.

“I wasn’t feeling great, and being sick abroad just made me more homesick,” you explained. As a game development director, you’d been away overseeing the final stages of a new project. It had been a long trip, and you were glad to be back.

Bucky asked, his voice laced with concern, "Are you alright, dear? Have you checked with the hospital? I'll call our doctor."

You shook your head gently, a soft smile playing on your lips. "No, babe. I've got the results, and everything's alright."

Relief washed over Bucky and Jade's faces. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. Jade, on the other hand, beamed with joy, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

“Mom,” Jade whispered conspiratorially in your ear. “Dad told me he kidnapped you from Clark Jordan.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “He did?” You turned to glare at Bucky, who rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Let’s just go home,” he grumbled, ignoring your laughter and Jade’s giggles.

On the way back, Jade couldn’t hold in her curiosity. “Mom, what happened next after Clark hit Dad?”

You smirked knowingly. “Oh, he told you about that part, huh?”

“Yup,” Jade said eagerly, leaning forward in her seat.

You shook your head, chuckling as the memory came back. “Well...”

🔔💍🔔💍

Flashback

Clark arrived at the location in a rush, his wedding suit slightly disheveled, the jacket discarded in his haste. His tie hung loose around his neck, and his face was etched with determination. He’d come as soon as he could after getting the tip-off about your whereabouts.

Bursting onto the scene, he froze when he saw you and Bucky. The two of you were arguing—your words sharp, your tone frustrated—but there was something unspoken between you. A connection Clark could sense but had never felt with you himself. It wasn’t just Bucky’s audacity that made him furious; it was the realization that something deeper existed between the two of you, something he would never have.

Without thinking, Clark lunged at Bucky, his fist connecting with his jaw. Bucky staggered back but quickly caught himself, his own eyes blazing with fury. He grabbed Clark by the shirt, stopping the second punch, and delivered one of his own in return.

“Stop it!” you yelled, stepping between them.

Both men froze, fists mid-air, their heavy breathing filling the tense silence. They glared at each other, neither saying a word, the tension crackling between them.

You felt a pang of fear—not for your physical safety, but for what might happen to Bucky. Clark wasn’t just a powerful man; his family had the connections to ruin someone’s life with a single phone call. You couldn’t let that happen.

“We should go back,” you said softly, your voice trembling.

Bucky flinched, his arm dropping to his side. He stared at you, stunned. “What?”

Clark took the opportunity to grab your arm gently, his grip firm but not harsh. “Let’s go.”

As he led you away, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. Bucky was still standing there, watching you. His expression was unreadable, but you couldn’t help the small flicker of disappointment in your chest. You’d hoped, even for a second, that he would stop you, but he didn’t move.

---

In the car, Clark broke the silence first. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice was calm, but his worry was clear.

“No, he didn’t do anything,” you reassured him.

He let out a long sigh, relief washing over his face. “Thank God.”

You hesitated before speaking again. “Clark… about the wedding.”

He cut you off gently. “It’s alright.”

You blinked in surprise. Clark had always been kind and patient, but this… this was different. He seemed far too calm for someone whose fiancée had just been kidnapped.

“You must have been terrified,” he continued, his gaze focused on the road. “Out of the blue, someone takes you away. My heart nearly stopped.”

“I’m fine,” you said softly. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Clark’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “I’m getting a restraining order. He won’t come near you again.”

“It’s not that simple,” you said quickly, but he cut you off again.

“He kidnapped you, and you’re still not mad at him?” His voice was quiet but filled with hurt.

You flinched at his words.

“I knew you're a brave woman,” he said after a long pause. “I heard you went into a store with him. You could’ve screamed for help, but you didn’t.” He glanced at you briefly, his tone full of disbelief. “It seems like you were willing to go with him.”

Silence fell between you, the weight of his words pressing down.

Finally, Clark spoke again, his voice soft but resolute. “The wedding’s canceled.”

“What?” you whispered, taken aback.

“I realized something today,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “You’re not the one for me.”

You stared at him, struggling to find the words.

“I saw the way you looked at him,” he continued. “The way you argued, the fire in your eyes. It’s something I’ve never had with you. He’s the one for you, not me.”

You couldn’t deny it. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I am too,” he said with a sad smile. “I thought maybe there was a chance for us. But it seems like you’re meant to be with someone else.”

“You’ll find someone who’s right for you,” you said softly, genuinely.

Before either of you could say more, a loud whirring sound filled the air. You both looked up to see a helicopter hovering above the car.

“What the hell?” Clark exclaimed as you saw the door open.

There, standing boldly with a megaphone in hand, was Bucky. “Stop! In the name of love!” he shouted.

“What the fuck!” you and Clark said in unison.

Clark pulled the car over as the helicopter landed in the middle of the road.

You turned to Bucky as he stepped out. “Seriously?”

Bucky shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “I had to make a grand entrance.” He extended his hand toward you.

You glanced at Clark apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

Clark nodded, his face pained but understanding. “Go. Before you make my heart bleed even more.”

You stepped out of the car, your heart pounding as you took Bucky’s hand. He helped you into the helicopter, securing your seatbelt and placing a headset over your ears.

As Bucky climbed in, Clark called out, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What exactly did you do? How did you even afford this?”

Bucky smirked. “I’m the owner of Bitcoin.”

Clark's jaw dropped. "You?!" He had invested some money in crypto and knew a bit about the Bitcoin story, particularly the anonymous creator's preference for secrecy. Could Bucky be the creator of this coin?

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah. I like to keep it low-key.”

Clark muttered to himself, still stunned. “Unbelievable.”

Bucky offered a hand in truce. “Hey, man. I’m sorry I ruined your day.”

“And I’ll hate you for it,” Clark said honestly, shaking his hand. “But at least everything’s clear now.”

Bucky nodded. “You’re a good guy. I hope you find someone who’s perfect for you.”

With that, he climbed into the helicopter and shut the door.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “So, what now?”

“We finish your bucket list,” he said with a grin.

You sighed. “No, we don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because someone will definitely stop us,” you said knowingly.

“Who?”

“My dad,” you said flatly.

Bucky’s face fell. “Oh, fuck.”

Present Day

“I feel bad for Clark,” Jade sniffled from the backseat, dabbing her eyes dramatically with a tissue.

Bucky groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Oh, come on. He’s fine. Stop acting like this is some soap opera.”

Jade ignored him, her phone in hand as she scrolled through a quick search. “Wait a minute—oh! Clark got married two years after you two. To his childhood friend! And they have… five kids?! Woah!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow but said nothing, keeping his focus on the road.

“At least he got his happy ending,” Jade murmured, her tone softening. Then her eyes sparkled with realization. “What about Grandpapa? How did Dad win him over?”

Your lips curved into a sly smile as you glanced at Bucky, who suddenly looked tense. “Let’s just say Clark was a beginner level, but your grandfather? He was the Grandmaster level boss.”

“Oh, great. I hate this part,” Bucky muttered under his breath, his face a mix of annoyance and dread.

Jade leaned forward, her curiosity piqued even more by her father’s reaction. “Tell me everything!” she pressed, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

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[cailinsblog]

Can you please write Husband!Nico Hischier and a fun afternoon with his wife in bed 👀 so passionate, so loving ❤️

Omg yesss thank you so much for the request I hope you like it

Love in Motion | Nico hischier

Nico hischier x reader

⚠️Smut⚠️

This is my first time writing smut so I hope you guys like it

Masterlist

It's a beautiful, sunny afternoon, and Nico is home from practice. Y/N greets him at the door with a kiss, and their chemistry is palpable.

Y/N playfully pushes Nico onto the bed and starts to undress, teasing him with glimpses of her body. Y/N straddles Nico, grinding against him. He reaches up and cups her breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth.

Y/N moans, wrapping her legs around him. They start to move in rhythm, kissing passionately. Nico gets up and takes his shirt off as y/n looks at his nice defined abs. Nico catches her staring at his chest and smirks. He hovers over her and y/n puts her hands on his chest feeling his abs.

Nico hissed as his rock-hard dick slid inside her, her nails digging into his chest as she took him in, inch by inch. His hips slammed against her as he fucked her hard, his balls slapping her pussy as he took her to new heights.

Y/n’s breathing picked up as he continued to slam into her, each thrust more intense than the last. Her heart raced, her body covered in a thin layer of sweat as she took him, loving every moment of it.

Nico reached down, his fingers finding her clit as he began to circle it, making her gasp. “Fuck yes, Nico,” she cried out, her legs wrapping around him as he continued to thrust into her.

Her pussy tightened around his dick as she came, her body shaking as he continued to fuck her. He groaned, his thrusts getting erratic as he took her, finally coming with a loud cry of his own.

Nico collapsed on top of her, his breathing labored as they both came down from their high. Y/n ran her fingers through his hair, a satisfied smile on her face as she looked up at him.

“That was amazing, Nico,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He smiled down at her, his eyes soft.

“Anything for you, Y/n,” he replied, before capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. As they kissed, Y/n knew that no matter what, she would always have Nico, and he would always have her. They were meant to be, and nothing would ever change that.

Nico pulled out of her, rolling over onto his back as he caught his breath. Y/n snuggled up against him, her head resting on his chest as she listened to his heartbeat. She ran her fingers over his abs, feeling the muscles ripple under her touch.

“You’re so fucking hot, Nico,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest. He chuckled, his fingers tracing patterns on her back.

“And you’re so fucking beautiful, Y/n,” he replied, before pulling her in for another kiss. They lay there for a while, just enjoying each other’s company, before Nico finally sat up.

“I’m gonna go grab us some water,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead before standing up. Y/n watched him go, her eyes following his toned ass as he walked away. She couldn’t help but feel a little smug, knowing that she had the hottest husband in the world.

Nico returned a few minutes later, two bottles of water in his hands. He handed one to Y/n, before sitting down next to her on the bed. They drank in silence for a moment, before Y/n spoke up.

“Nico, can you do something for me?” she asked, her voice soft. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with concern.

“Of course, Y/n. What is it?” he asked, his voice gentle. Y/n took a deep breath, before speaking.

“I want you to take care of me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Nico’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before he nodded.

“Okay, Y/n. I’ll take care of you. What do you need?” he asked, his voice soft. Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears.

“I need you to hold me. I need you to make me feel safe. I need you to remind me that I’m not alone,” she said, her voice shaking. Nico’s heart broke at the sight of her tears, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.

“I’ve got you, Y/n. I’m always here for you. You’re never alone. I’ll always take care of you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Y/n cried for a few more minutes, before finally calming down.

Nico held her until she fell asleep, his arms wrapped around her as he watched her sleep. He knew that she had been through a lot lately, and he was determined to be there for her, no matter what.

As he watched her sleep, Nico couldn’t help but feel grateful for the woman in his arms. She was his rock, his everything, and he would do anything for her. He knew that their love was strong, and nothing would ever break it.

And as he held her, Nico knew that they would always have each other, no matter what life threw their way. They were in this together, and they would always be there for each other, no matter what.

[loveandleases]

What about the cooking skills of the other ROs? And is Jade cooking for Chris now?

I'll answer Jade's first. She's never had to cook for herself so she sees no reason to start now. She can boil water, or make toast. But if you ask her to fry an egg, expect it to be full of egg shell and extremely runny. If Chris wants a home-cooked meal, then they would need to go to their parent's house which has a personal chef.

❤️Cam is an absolute disaster in the kitchen. He tries, he really does, but it always turns out bad. Either things get burnt or under cooked. His cookies will always be chunky and raw, and his toast will always be charred to the point you risk a tooth. I will say that Cam will show interest in attending a cooking class.

💙 G - A good cook, thanks to their halmeoni (grandmother). She was very adamant about G learning to cook so that they could support themself, or if they had a partner. They're very organized in the kitchen and don't like to be bothered when cooking. But they would make an exception for the right person. You can usually find Kimchi Jjiga in their fridge in the colder months.

💚 Kara - There's a joke that the Clarke family is cursed and can't cook. The same can be said for Kara. The difference between her and Cam when it comes to cooking is Kara thinks she's a good cook. Many of her exes thought it was best to lie to her about her cooking skills, and thus she is quite confident when it comes to cooking…it's just misplaced.

💛 M - They're a foodie, so they can cook well enough. Adequate enough they don't starve, but they don't have the time or patience for complex dishes. M is more often than not stressed about a deadline so you'll usually find them snacking more than eating a proper meal. They could easily make MC some tomato egg stir fry, just let them finish editing first.

💜 Isaac - They're a good cook. Even though Isaac is health conscious, they're weak for comfort food. Especially recipes their mom used to make them. It's their way of staying connected to her even though she's no longer alive. Isaac sets two days of the week to just do meal prep, their fridge is normally stocked with various dishes. So, if MC wants, expect Isaac to be more than ready to teach them a recipe or two.

🖤 Ardent - Amazing cook, the best of the Ro's honestly. His parents own a taverna in Greece. Ardent was expected to help out when he was growing up, either with cooking or serving customers. So, he knows his way around a kitchen. He enjoys cooking for people in general, something about the control he can have in the kitchen while also ensuring people eat well. His baklava is 🔥.

[navybrat817]

Bucky retires to the lumberjack lifestyle after a particularly grueling mission. His only companion is his kitty, Alpine. That is until he stumbles upon a rather clueless woman trying to chop wood in front of the neighboring cabin...

Maybe it'll inspire you. But no pressure!

I love this so much, Roo! But the question is...

(For anyone asking why not just soft, lovelies, I already have a soft lumberjack!Bucky!)

Love and thanks! ❤️

[codychristiantreasures]

It's a crime how rarely we got to see Theo's glorious tits.

It’s a shame we didn’t get more but we were definitely treated 😏

[nerves-nebula]

Hey y'all Abdul wanted me to pass along an update:

If at all you spare some time hun make for me an update on the fundraiser thanking our beloved donors for the donations sent to us through the previous months, it has helped us have food, clean water, paying out our medical bills and also a shopping for our friends who have gone to Canada 🇨🇦 last month and ask them to keep supporting us more as we also doing interviews for USA and soon we might be in the United States 🇺🇸 so we ask them to keep that good heart ❤️ we soon getting out of this dire situation.

Thanks 🙏 again Abdul luyombya 

Queer refugee and representative.

[iphyslitterator]

Buck calls Tommy “Lines” cause he’s always smiling so he has his smile lines and the eye crinkles.

Tommy calls Buck “Patch” cause his port wine birthmark reminds him of a patch.

This is now my headcanon

🥹🥹🥹 Anon, you are adorable, and can I just say, I love how much we as a fandom love Tommy's smile lines 💗

[vinelark]

I've been going through ur fic recs and after binging through "A Meditation On Railroading" and "The Long Way Home", I'm now obsessed with Jason and Tim. Something about hating each other but not really, all the bad blood and hurt and still becoming brothers bc how couldn't they

I wanted to ask if you know any other fics that are about them?

Thanks! :)

i had to make a real effort to keep this (relatively) short or it would just be hundreds of fics long. here is a very incomplete list of old favs and recent reads! i've definitely rec'd some of them already, but i think others are new to my fic rec tag.   you already mentioned a meditation on railroading and the long way home; i’m linking them again here for anyone else who wants them, because they are two of my favs and would kick off this list if you hadn’t already read them.   robin!jason era   Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding one of the most impressive things a story can do, imo, is pull off a really believable kid/teen pov—this does it twice, for both tim and jason, and it’s one of my fav rereads.

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by @bonesbuckleup i’ll always be reccing this one; it’s one of my favorite slow-burn hurt/comfort fics, and the tim & jason relationship in this context is very sweet + compelling as they deal with some rough edges unique to this story.

1-800-ROBIN by spqr jason volunteers for a mental health hotline, and this leads to bonding with tim. this has some incredibly tender moments and a great robin!jason pov.   red hood!jason era

cake is a four letter word by @sonosvegliato jason just wants to make a loaf of bread. then tim shows up. i love when a writer nails tim in peak Annoying Mode (❤️).

geolocation by @envysparkler i love a good forced-to-work-together oneshot, and this one gets bonus points for the sheer amount of “actions speak louder than words” going on with every single thing jason does.

Tim in a Bottle by @coyote-nebula (wip) angst and humor galore; tim and jason and their giant pile of unresolved issues all get locked in a walk-in freezer together. need i go on?

the trolley problem by @silk-scarlet-ribbons this is—i say with full appreciation—an absolute pangfest. jason is taken by an enemy, and that enemy has kidnapped a "random civilian" (you guessed it: tim) for leverage to get jason to do what they want. (also check out requiem for the forsaken by the same author, which is the fic that finally got my best friend to start caring about robins with me.)

Short-Term Memory Loss (Leads to Long-Term Sibling) by Vamillepudding a bittersweet + hopeful story in which red hood!jason gets temporarily whammed back to robin!jason, and bonds with tim.

Say Uncle by @megaerakles an incredibly fun twist on tim’s fake uncle with layers upon layers of identity shenanigans.

of crime lords and literature by @adelfie a wonderfully angsty, plotty fic in which tim ends up in danger as himself, and—after a very rocky start—jason is somehow the one who rescues him.

unequipped by Valkirin there’s a lot of jason saving tim on this list, and this story is a delightful reversal of that trope. red hood’s in trouble, and tim shows up to bail him out.

For All The Just Alike Birds by @sunflowersandink tim breaks his arm, and jason makes it his problem. featuring some excellent begrudgingly worried jason pov!

alternate universe

clean it like you mean it by @wynterstars (wip) i adore this jason-joins-the-family late AU; the central robin!tim & sort-of-civilian!jason dynamic is so compelling. marked as a wip, but currently leaves off in a very satisfying place!