#this is a side note and not the point. but I can't help but feel like the majority of the fandom would've written moash | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harringtonfeels · 8 hours ago

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touch

18+ • 2.8k • Friends to ???? to Lovers with inexperienced Reader

Notes: This is about half fluff, half smut, with a liiiiittle bit of angst. There is some discussion of the right to revoke consent regarding a past boyfriend of Reader's toward the beginning. Nothing bad happens to Reader, aside from confusion about expectations for female sexuality. If this would be triggering for you, please don't read.

"Wait, hold on a second." Steve sounds so perplexed that you have to look up from the book in your hands and glance around the room, as though someone else may have walked in and changed the tenor of the conversation. All you'd said was— "You've never had sex?"

You blink back at him, surprised by his surprise. Cheeks burning, you say, "Well, I mean…" Closing the book with a dense thump, you force yourself to make eye contact. "You don't have to say it like that. And it's not like nobody's ever, like, offered."

When he cocks his head slightly to the side, his hair falls slightly in that very Steve sort of way. "What about Mark?" You can't help the way a shiver runs down your spine at the mention. The intrigue is practically spilling out of him at this point, as he turns over onto his side and props himself up on his elbow, settling into the conversation. "I thought you said you were going to sleep with him. That night with the big, fancy date and the—"

"You mean right before I avoided him for three days and then broke up with him?" How had Steve not gotten the memo on that one?

You watch him connect the dots in real time, but he still seems a little confused. "Okay, then Rick. You dated Rick for a long time."

That forces a laugh out of you. "Yeah, when we were like thirteen, Steve. Come on."

"Jeff?"

"I couldn't even get Jeff to answer my phone calls, let alone have sex with me. Can we stop the rundown of my abysmal love life?" you say, trying to remain lighthearted but feeling your own mood sour with each passing moment. What started as incredulousness at Steve's reaction is beginning to turn into something like shame.

A beat later, Steve asks, "Did something happen with Mark?"

You know what he's asking, and your cheeks burn even hotter with embarrassment. "No, nothing like that."

"I thought you liked him."

"I did. And then I didn't. It was just… He just…" You drop your forgotten book onto Steve's bed and bury your face in your hands. "He was just very pushy, I guess. Like, as soon as he realized I was willing to have sex with him, he just wanted to get right to it. I didn't really feel like he was listening to me."

Steve's hand curls itself gently around your wrist, prying your hand from your face, and his voice takes on a slight edge. "What do you mean, 'he wasn't listening to you'?"

"Not like that." It's so hard to find a way to put it into words. You aren't entirely sure Mark even did anything wrong. It's more that he didn't do anything right. You steel yourself and look up at Steve, your longtime best friend who recently became something more, and you know he'll wait as long as you need him to, until you find the words to say. Steve has always had such patience with you, your whole lives. Somehow, that makes it feel even more urgent.

Finally, you inhale deeply and summon the courage to continue. "It wasn't like he tried to make me do anything, really. He was just kind of… inconsiderate. It felt more like he was excited to be having sex than that he was excited to be having sex with me."

Steve rubs soothing circles into your wrist and presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand. "So you told him to fuck off?"

That draws a laugh out of you. "Yes, basically. I was really confused about how I was feeling, so I told him I didn't think I was ready, and then he acted like he was mad at me the whole way home. So I broke up with him."

He looks a bit lost in thought, and you wonder what he's thinking about. If he's rethinking your relationship, if this makes him see you differently.

He props himself up against the headboard and pulls you close, tucking you into his side. "Baby, you know that's not how it's supposed to be, don't you?"

You want to say yes, but deep down, you're not really sure. What if you're just high maintenance? What if that's the way it always is, and it's true that sex isn't really supposed to be enjoyable for women, and maybe Mark was right to be upset with you for putting an end to things? What if once you'd already said yes, you weren't really allowed to say no? What if what you want isn't supposed to matter at all?

Realistically, you feel like this can't be the case. Why should sex only be good for one person? Why should you not be able to decide when and where and how you have sex, for the first time or for any time? Why should anyone else's feelings matter more than your own? But it's hard to reconcile your feelings of self-preservation with the things you've been told your whole life, or the look on Mark's face when you told him you wanted to go home.

Knowing something is true doesn't make it feel that way.

You bury your face in Steve's shoulder and nod anyway. Of all the ups and downs in the years you've spent with Steve, one thing he's always made you feel was safe.

His fingertips brush against your thigh, just under the hem of your dress, and you smile into his shirt at the way it tickles. Reflexively, you lift your leg a little higher, running away from the feeling. "I'd never want to make you feel that way, honey. You know you could tell me if I did, right?"

You flush at the insinuation. Steve wants to have sex with you. And he wants you to enjoy it. It's still hard to wrap your mind around it, this newfound whatever-this-is, the boundariless relationship status that started with a kiss and ends with… you're not sure what, exactly.

But you know Steve. Whatever this is between you, you can't imagine Steve Harrington would ever treat you like an object, or a means to an end. "I know," you say softly, breath hitching in your throat as his palm slides beneath your dress.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs into your hair.

Your stomach flutters with anticipation, and you nod.

His touch is so gentle, it's almost maddening. It's already so different from how Mark touched you, slow and thoughtful instead of rough and hurried. For the first time, you think you might really understand the meaning of the word sensual.

When his palm leaves your skin, you sigh with disappointment, but just as quickly, he's tipping your chin upward, looking into your eyes with his honey brown ones. "Can I kiss you?"

Suddenly, there's a lot you want to tell him. Words that threaten to spill out of you without cohesion or any defined purpose. But this moment is so perfect you don't dare tarnish it. You lean into it instead. Breath stuttering, you nod again, and you sit up just enough to see him better, to reach him better.

His lips are soft against yours, hand gently cupping your cheek, and it's excruciatingly slow at first, until you clench the front of his tee shirt in your fist and urgently draw him closer. He shifts, slotting one knee between your thighs and deepening the kiss as he does.

Steve has kissed you a few times now, and each time, it's like learning a different version of him. Drunk, confident Steve the first time. Sticky-sweet, adoring Steve the second. Soft, horny Steve today. You can feel the hard outline of him pressed against your thigh. A few minutes ago, this might have been jarring or even somewhat alarming, but not now. With your skirt rucked up almost to your waist, you can't help but sigh into his mouth and roll your hips against his.

He pulls away just enough to murmur, "Oh, honey."

You whimper in response, feeling your way under the hem of his shirt. You've never touched him like this. You don't know when the lines blurred so much that your best friend Steve has become someone whose sides you can caress, whose mouth you can feel on your neck— "Oh my god."

His lips brush against your skin. "Can I tell you how I'd touch you?"

Your brain struggles to piece together what he's asking, which is a testament more to how focused you are on how you feel than the complexity of his question. Swallowing thickly, you nod again.

"Come on, baby, use your words. I need to know you mean it."

You dig your nails lightly into his back at that, pouting. "Steve, please."

He's got you flat on your back now, grinding his hips absentmindedly against yours. You can feel him smile against your collarbone, fingers splayed across your ribs as his thumb ghosts across the underwire of your bra. "If you let me touch you, I'd start real slow," he whispers. "Get you nice and comfortable for me, start somewhere safe, like here." His hand cups the outside of your thigh, making leisurely circles with his thumb.

It's a clear retreat from before, less suggestive, and yet you feel your pulse pick up with anticipation. Mouth falling open just slightly, you watch his face as he continues. You've never seen him like this before, focused but glassy-eyed, lips swollen.

When you focus on his hands like this, it's hard to think that it was ever outside the bounds of your relationship for him to touch you like this. All those times watching him shift gears, watching the way his big hands wrap around his baseball bat at practices. Eyes lingering on his long fingers just a little longer than strictly necessary. It feels natural, now that you see his hands on you in real time.

You're sucked back into the present when Steve opens his mouth. "And when you're feeling really comfortable, I'd make my way a little higher." He punctuates this statement by bending your leg at the knee, hand slowly lowering beneath your dress once more.

You let out a whimper as his fingertips graze the edge of your light pink panties, drunk on the suggestion alone, and you weave your fingers through his hair to steady yourself.

It's not like you've never made out with anyone before. You've had boyfriends, you've been on successful dates with passionate kisses that left you winded on your doorstep. But it's never been anything like this, not that you can remember. Every time you made it even to second base with someone before, they were just… demanding or selfish or, once, even actually insulted your body. Some guys didn't work out because they moved away for college, or got back together with their ex, or because you didn't like them that much, or they just weren't a very good kisser. You told yourself when you were dating Mark that, if a lackluster makeout session was the worst of it, you could handle that. You hadn't known at the time that it was possible you wouldn't have to make any concessions.

Steve swipes his thumb across your lower lip, eyes darkening with desire. Teasing the wasitband of your panties with more intention, he leans back in to press a kiss just above the neckline of your dress. He hesitates slightly, and you hang on his every movement like it's a lifeline. When he speaks again, his eyes meet yours. His hair is wild from your fingers running through it, and he looks just as feverish as you feel.

You can't help but watch his mouth when he speaks, as if you don't already know what it feels like on your skin. "And if you liked that," he says, "then I'd turn my attention somewhere else. The trick—" His free hand brushes along your ribcage, dangerously close to your breast. "—is to keep my hands busy, and keep your imagination busy, too."

If you were ever under any illusion that you weren't turned on before, the slick gathering between your thighs makes it quite clear. The late summer breeze rolling through the window is cool on your skin. If it weren't for that, you'd be burning up under the heat of him. As it is, you can barely breathe, but you're not sure that's from the temperature.

His hands move confidently but not impulsively. He skims across the side of your breast with his palm, and you arch into his touch, fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Removing his hand from your waistband, he pulls you up into a sitting position and finds the zipper of your dress. He starts to unzip you, then stops abruptly, raising his eyebrows in question. When you nod in response, he leans in for another searing kiss and finishes the job.

You only notice he's run into some difficulty unclasping your bra because he laughs after the third try, and you can't help but smile as you reach around to unclasp it yourself. And then his hands are on your skin again, palming one of your breasts and burying his face in your neck.

When he brushes his thumb over your nipple, you gasp, and he grins against your skin, carefully laying you back down on the mattress. "Does that feel good, honey?"

"Mm-hmm," you whimper, not caring how needy you sound. "Please don't stop."

"'M not stopping, baby," he murmurs, "unless you ask me to."

Steve is nothing if not good at building suspense, you're learning. He circles your nipple with his thumb, then backs off, sliding his free hand back down the front of your dress and toward the front of your panties. While you're distracted by that, stomach clenching in anticipation, he pinches your nipple gently, rolling it between his thumb and finger.

You can't help but gasp in response, overstimulated in the best way.

"And when you're nice and relaxed and ready for me…" He uses one finger to lift the waistband of your panties up just high enough to fit his hand inside. Your thighs fall open at the movement of their own accord, and you tug at his hair, hips lifting slightly to chase his touch.

Steve stills completely, mouth parting like he can't believe it. As if he himself didn't honestly think this little lesson would be so effective. Sounding a little distant, he looks into your eyes and whispers, "That's when I'd touch you."

You stare back at him, the spell broken. You had almost forgotten there was something he was getting at, other than just showing you what you were missing. It's a little dizzying, seeing how far you've gotten on a flirty line, an ambiguous relationship status, and a suspension of disbelief.

Didn't he just say he wasn't going to stop?

"Steve?" you prompt him, voice uncharacteristically small, as if speaking too loudly will make this moment disappear.

He blinks back at you, re-engaging. "Can I touch you, honey?"

Biting your lip, you nod, and a slow, easy grin spreads across his face.

He finds your free hand and kisses your knuckles before slipping his hand just a little bit lower, fingertips just dipping into your slick folds. "Oh, sweetheart," he hums, "you're s' wet for me." When the pad of his middle finger brushes your clit, your hips buck against his hand with urgency. "We've made a mess of your pretty panties, honey. We're gonna have to take these off."

You raise your hips up off the bed without further prompting. You don't have it in you to feel embarrassed, or to worry about what you're going to wear back home. You just let Steve remove them, and when he's done, you paw at the hem of his shirt, asking permission silently. He rolls his shoulders and helps you pull it over his head, tossing it haphazardly onto the floor.

And when he leans back in, you marvel at all the parts of him you get to touch now, the things you get to do that you never could before. The things you've thought about a million times when you really shouldn't have. During school night sleepovers, summer afternoons by his family's pool, at the department store when you both tried on outfits for prom. All those parts of him you've craved, the things you never thought you'd get to feel.

The words tumble out before you can stop them. I love you.

And sure, it's embarrassing. There's a lot of stuff about tonight that's embarrassing, but it doesn't matter. Because even if he doesn't—

Before your cheeks have even had time to warm up, Steve is climbing up your body, eyes wide with something like wonder, and he's cradling your face in his hands. He kisses you slow and firm, like it's the first time, or even the last. He kisses you until you're both breathless, and then he leans his forehead against yours, both of you panting and giggling a little at the absurdity of it all.

And then Steve whispers, "I love you, too."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #don't know how to tag for this fandom so sending this out there and hoping it finds its people lol

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anadrym · 3 days ago

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Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch17.

Spoilers!

Chapter title is from "Cascade" by Satron Paint Samuel. Very pretty song. :)

At 5590 words, this is the longest chapter so far! It will be dethroned by the next one, which is pushing 7k.

I feel like I keep making Cait touch Vi's tattoo, but like. Of course she does. It's her name, the name they tried to turn into a number but couldn't. And names have kinda become a thing in this fic. Caitlyn and Ghost, Vi and Number 6 / "the girl", [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], etc.

And, of course, one of the first things Caitlyn tells Petra is Vi's name. :')

Okay, so the whole part with Caitlyn panicking about the serum and whether it's keeping Vi alive? That was all added later. I'll admit, I originally forgot to address it until y'all brought it up in the comments a few chapters back. I couldn't find a place to fit it sooner, which ended up working out. Cait was too preoccupied with getting them out to consider it, so she didn't think about it until she was safe enough.

So, I don't know if this is a big reveal or anything, but... The Baroness completely misled Caitlyn (and you guys). The serum they've been using in Maintenance is entirely to keep Vi under control. It has absolutely nothing to do with Vi's revival after being shot. That was achieved via a different serum, which has not been necessary since.

Also, I love Petra just cutting off that downward spiral by calling bullshit. It's a conclusion Caitlyn would have come to on her own if it wasn't her partner's life that she was fretting over.

During her realization, Caitlyn goes absolutely still - no blinking, barely breathing, staring blankly into the distance - which is why Petra looks so unnerved.

Vi's head injury (from the bullet) is completely healed. It is not affecting her ability to understand speech or anything. That's entirely the control serum (an unintended side effect that the Baroness happily took advantage of). So, as soon as they can get the serum out of her system, she'll be able to start verbally communicating again.

They will end up doing a series of blood transfusions. We're not going to see them (I'm tired of Vi being unconscious, so we'll be back with her next chapter), but they happen and they help.

I don't like writing hospitals. I don't know how they work and I'm honestly not quite interested enough to find out. So I will avoid them as much as possible in my writing. That's why Caitlyn refuses. Luckily, Petra knows someone who knows someone.

Petra sees how pale Caitlyn is, sees that her hands are shaking, and realizes that Caitlyn needs to eat and drink. She doesn't say anything until after all of Vi's wounds are bandaged because she knows Cait won't even listen until then.

The bruising from the restraints is on Vi's wrists and ankles; since the injuries are on the insides of her elbows and thighs, Petra isn't too worried about bandages there triggering something. She has to ask about Vi's neck because she doesn't want to risk it.

(I want to write a fic where Vi is collared. The guard dog imagery is just too good to pass up.)

Oh, I am never going to get enough of side characters calling Vi and Caitlyn each other's "girl." There's just something about "your girl." The recognition of their complete and utter devotion to each other, to the point of possession and codependence? Maybe?

I think it's really good that Petra calls Caitlyn out here. 'Do you trust me or not? If you came here for help, then let me help you.' She knows Caitlyn is still in survival mode, where she can't trust anyone, and she's telling her that she made it. She doesn't have to just keep surviving. She's safe now, and she can let herself feel all the things she's been surpressing. She can let someone else take over for a bit. She can focus on healing.

I was having so much trouble keeping track of who was on which side of the bed. I'll have to sketch it later.

Caitlyn keeps touching Vi lightly, afraid of waking her or triggering her or hurting her. And Vi keeps pressing into the touches. Cait is focused (for now) on the physical wounds. By Vi is used to hurting; she just wants the comfort of a touch without the intent to harm.

Cait is still in survival mode. Everything is a potential threat. Which is why she reaches for her gun when Petra comes back into the room. Petra can tell that Cait still needs time to let go of that defensiveness, so she doesn't hold it against her.

I originally had Petra give Caitlyn a glass of water, but when I was editing, I was like, "Oh, wait, she has low blood sugar! She needs some juice!"

Hooray! She's eaten one (1) whole sandwich! She's had water and juice! Yay!

Yes, Petra is actively trying to give Caitlyn even the smallest sense of normalcy that she can.

Petra giving them clothes makes me think of Captain Shakespeare in Stardust. :)

A new problem comes to light. If Vi hasn't eaten in years, then her digestive system absolutely has to be eased back into functioning. Which means that they'll have to keep administering nutrients and fluids intravenously. I'm sure that won't freak Vi out at all.

Petra absolutely has done this before. Caitlyn will find out more about it during the very brief timeskip between this chapter and the next. You guys will learn about it when Vi does.

Petra remembered Caitlyn's name! She's gonna keep calling her 'Ghost' though, until Cait says otherwise. She only uses 'Caitlyn' now because she's desperate for Cait to let someone to help her, even if it's just for ten minutes.

Mmm, and the recognition that the separation anxiety is two-sided. A well-warranted, though frankly unhealthy, amount of codependence. (They'll work on it.)

Caitlyn's reflection kinda makes the 'Ghost' moniker a little too fitting.

Cait leaves her dirty clothes in the bathroom. Petra will run them through the laundry and will find Tobias' ring. Just for everyone keeping track of where it is. ;)

Hell yeah! Emotional breakdown in the shower! Write what you fucking know!

Leave Caitlyn alone and unsupervised and she will go through your cabinets and steal your unused toothbrushes.

Survival mode again. Caitlyn trusts Petra, but still almost panics when the woman is between her and Vi (bear behavior), and when she can't see what she's doing. Logic vs. Fear.

Vi will get her earrings back, don't worry. One of you pointed out that they're all she has left from before the Purge and it almost made me cry.

Cait: I have to protect Vi, I can't let anyone touch her, she's hurt and I can't risk anyone else getting close. Also Caitlyn: Yeah, sure, I'll take these drugs without even knowing what they are.

So, apparently, you're not supposed to lie down if you have broken ribs??? I didn't know this. That's the main reason I made Caitlyn's injury less severe; she needs to be able to cuddle.

Petra, knowing how stubborn Caitlyn is and seeing the results of Vi's will to survive: "...I honestly can't imagine a world in which she doesn't recover."

I wanted them to cuddle! I'm so mad at myself! I damaged Caitlyn's ribs and inadvertantly sabotaged myself! Fuck! >:(

Gonna fucking make them hold hands instead. Damn it. I wanted them to cuddle. :(

Kissing your partner's hands, my beloved. (Especially when those hands have been forced to do terrible things.)

Teaser for next (next) week:

Her hair is messy, falling out of her loose, lopsided ponytail. Her clothes are rumpled. There are lines on the side of her face where the folds of the blanket have left their impressions in her skin. It's so beautiful and imperfect and Caitlyn.

Vi's heart cracks open inside her chest, something molten bleeding out of it. There is so much she wants to say, but all of it gets caught in the dry desert of her throat.

You came back. You found me. I missed you. I love you.

#my writing #extended author's notes #left behind #all the things we left behind

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feelfreetopleasemexo · 1 day ago

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Plot

You attend jujitsu with Gojo,

Your first week and you've been sent out with him to learn how to exercise cursed spirits

He leads you into an old abandoned house, scares you a few times, then a spirit attacks you

Takes you back and takes care of you

Next mission you go with Geto, you get kidnapped, but he can't save you

My first week at jujitsu highschool actually wasn't too bad. Don't get me wrong, school still sucks, but having a tall, slim but incredibly built teacher, with glistening white hair who always spouts the stupidest anecdotes, and chucks mochi balls at us if we get answers correct, made it feel a little less stressful, and little more fun. I was a little older than the other first years; they ranged from 16-18, and I sat at a delicate 24, not much older than the freshly born adult range, but scarily older than the 16 year olds it felt. Our teacher Mr Gojo seemed within our age range, which perplexed me, he was clearly the youngest teacher here.

After being told my ranking was Grade 1, I assumed I was a pretty high end sorcerer already, but very quickly found that, even though grade 1 used to be top dog, with the increasing amount of special grade curses popping up, the rankings might need to change soon...

After a particularly strenuous training session, I found Gojo waiting outside my door, leaning against it with a pastry hanging half in his mouth as he frantically texted on his flip phone.

"AH! There you are! Girl of the hour!" He tilts his head, smiling towards me, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He pulls the pastry from his mouth and shoves it in my direct,

"Wanna try? It's sooo goooood." I wave my hand and shake my head gently towards him,

"Maybe another time. I feel like I'm about to split in half after training today, did you need something?"

"Split in half ey?" I find his head lowering as if he was slowly looking me up and down, "Anyway!" He jumped up, excitedly, suddenly appearing next to me with his arm draped around my shoulder, "It's your lucky day! You get to go on a super secret mission with me, Saturo Gojo, the best in the bizz!" He proudly points to his chest as he says his name, laughing, as we begin our walk to the exit of the building.

"Me? On a mission already? Wait, with you as well?! What the hell did I do to provoke such an invitation?!.... Was it because I kicked Pandas ass yesterday?" My eyes dart along the floor as I'm deep in thought, trying to figure out why it was me who got invited to help Gojo out, even if it only meant watching him in action.

"I mean, yeah that's a good start, but I actually requested you for this mission myself. Well, I say I requested....they don't actually know you're coming with me yet, I'm sure Megumi has given Yaga the note by now though..." He smirked and pulled me in slightly closer to his side.

"I'm sure it'll all work out, who's gonna mess with you anyway now that I'm around?" He glanced at me from the side of his glasses, winking then throwing his head back as a laugh roared from his mouth. I rolled my eyes but couldn't keep the smile from creeping on my face.

We met ijichi at the entrance to the school and he drove us roughly 2 hours away of town, to a place that could only be described as 'disgustingly dissolute.' As we exited the car, Gojo got a call.

"Mhm, I'm here. Yeah yeah that's fine." He pauses, a look of concern washing over him, "Oh, he got the note then...yeah she's here. She's fine. You think I'd let anything happ...." The person on the other end of the phone had evidently hung up before he could finish his sentence. He snapped his phone closed and shoved it into his pocket.

"So yeeeeeeeah, Yaga ain't happy. He told megumi that he's instructed ijichi to turn back around and come collect you, buuuuut that's not gonna happen." He flashes a grin and grabs me by the arm, "How can he collect you if he can't find you? Hold on." We suddenly start running towards a block of dilapidated buildings and down a few alleys. We stop abruptly as he pushes me with one hand against the wall behind him. He quietly listens to see if ijichi bothered driving down this side of the buildings, but hearing anything, he looks back at me laughing quietly to himself, to find me staring wide eyed down at the fact he had his hand placed perfectly cradling my right breast. Jumping back and putting his hand on the back of his neck, he quickly apologised for the accidently grope.

"oh shit, sorry about that! It's usually me by myself, or if anyone HAS to come with it, it's usually Yugi...I'm not used to boobs getting in the way when I'm trying to hide someone from others eyeline....felt nice though, so, thanks for that little pick me up!"

"Errrr, anytime I guess?" I muster, trying to pretend I wasn't completely flustered. 3 seconds of grabbing my boob got me this shy and embarrassed? God he's gonna think I'm a virgin! I should've smacked his hand, slapped his face, put my hand on his pec imitating him... He could see the racing thoughts going through my mind as I stood motionless, eyes only darting along the floor again, but he quickly interruptes.

"Ooooh, so you're a thinker...I wish I was a thinker. I just say whatever I want and worry about thinking later. It usually works out." He leans down to look at me, peering over his glasses, clearly trying to crack a smile.

I giggle and brush my hair behind my ear, flattening the creases from my shirt, I ask where we had to head next.

"um...um..." He spins around, looking at the buildings surrounding us, "Oh! There! You see that creepy looking building that looks like it's been burnt to a crisp, and could collapse at a sudden wind? Yeah, we're headed in there." He walks gleefully towards the decrepit building, swinging his arms exaggeratedly beside himself, as I follow on his tail. I don't understand why he looks so cheerful going into a place like this, but hey, it meant I got to watch him work, I couldn't exactly complain about it not being a 5 star hotel now could I.

Once I see him slip gracefully in the half open door, I follow him and find he's nowhere in the room before me. It's an old, dusty grey room, filled with burnt boxes and half a rug that looks like it's been torn in half. Stairs to the back right look damaged and unclimbable, with a hole half way up that seems to dig deep into the foundations of the building, I look to my left and see a room leading to what I assume is a kitchen. I creep into the room, clinging to the wall behind me, careful of my footing and try to enter the room with the tile flooring, to which I find him swinging on a chair, feet on the table, holding a porno magazine sideways, displaying nothing but charred remained of a woman jumping in the air, presumably with her breasts out, covered in white, foam? Soap? It's so burnt you can barely make out the photo anymore.

"Enjoying yourself?" I blurt, as he nearly falls off the chair and drops the magazine to the floor. He kicks it over to me,

"Check out that hottie!" He exclaims, "Get it, cause it's burnt? You get it right?" I roll my eyes and let out a slight sigh,

"Yeah I get it, you're into smoking hot babes." I let out a small laugh as I turn back around and hear him now actually falling off the chair backwards, laughing loudly!

"I knew you'd get it! Cm'here!" He appears behind me, and puts his arm around my waist, pulling me slightly closer into him, "I knew you'd get my humour. We're gonna get along like a house on fire, ey." He whispers into my ear, letting out a proud exhale of air from his nose.

I roll my eyes and ask him what we're doing in a dusty ass house like this, and what made it a special mission in the first place, to which he jumps up and appears at the top of the stairs, proudly proclaiming, "We're here so I can show off!" He wanders off, searching the top floor, as I decide to check the bottom floor. I can hear his footsteps lazily falling on the floorboards above me, as I open a cupboard and books loudly crash to my feet.

"YOU ALRIGHT DOWN THERE?!" I hear panic in his voice, and before I can even reply, I hear a tumble down the stairs, and a second later see him leaning against the doorframe behind me, arms folded, covered in dust, and his glasses hanging half off his face.

"Are you alright there?" I laugh, clearly mocking him falling down the stairs, to which I see his eyes dart behind me.

"Don't. Move." He whispers, a sudden seriousness took over his voice. I stiffen my body and hold his gaze.

"Now walk slowly towards me. SLOWER. Slower. Good. Now just keep coming towards me. I've got you." His eyes widened as he slowly held a hand out to me, I reached for it trying to move as slow as physically possible, to which he suddenly darts at me and pins me to the ground, completely shielding me. I wince and brace myself for impact, and after a few seconds of nothing happening, I slowly open my eyes and see him staring down at me, smiling, still completely ontop of me.

"Spider." He laughs. His chest an inch from my face, I jerk forward trying to bite at his nipple, to which he forcefully uses his hand to push my chest down, now grabbing the left breast slightly.

"Nununuh, pervert. You've gotta wine and dine me first, before biting me anywhere." He flashes a smirk and lingers his hand still on my chest, before looking me up and down and then standing back up, offering his hand out to me.

"So you bring new girls here to grope and have your way with them then I take it?" I snark at him, ignoring his out stretched hang and getting myself up.

"Wait what? You think...?" He breaks out in laughter at the thought of me assuming he wanted to take me. He wipes a fake tear from his eye and rearranged his glasses. I pout and furrow my brow, looking away from him, annoyed that he thought my assumption was a bit too funny. To which I hear,

"why would I take you somewhere like here if I wanted you? My rooms so much nicer. Sound proof too." It sounded like he was whispering it directly into my ear, I could almost feel his hot breath as he said it. Flustered I turn my head to where I thought I heard it, and again, he's nowhere to be found.

I try to shake the fluster from my face, and head back to searching the room, nothing in here looks especially exciting, or suspicious, until I hear a stone hit the full-length window Infront of me. Peering out I see a figure in the alley opposite, hunched over, bobbing his back slightly up and down. I look closer and see puddles of red by its feet.

"Gojo, I think it's outside!" I shout, hoping he's still somewhere in the house, to which the figure abruptly stands bolt up right, as if it heard me, span around and bolted toward me at top speed. Before I could even stumble backwards, it crashed through the window and landed ontop of me, pinning me to the ground and snapping his jaws an inch from my face. I let out a loud shriek as I try to push the beast off of me, but it's sheer force felt like it was merging me with the floorboards. I tried to fling my head up to headbutt it, but it felt like I headbutted a concrete wall, I instantly lose consciousness from the force.

I awake to the fresh air hitting my face, as I realise I'm in Gojo's arms, carrying me out of the building. I look up at him and see a stern, concerned look on his face, as he rushes me to a car. I black out again. When I come too again finally, I'm in my own bed, in an oversized t shirt and trousers that were 100 times too big for me, with the sound of footsteps outside my door. It sounded like someone pacing outside my door, as I open my mouth to speak, an immense pain filled my brain as I grabbed at my head and groaned. The footsteps stopped, and my door flung open.

"You're alive! Thank god! The elders won't have my head for killing the newbie. Phew." An exaggerated sign of relief left his mouth as he realised I was now conscious again.

"As soon as we arrived back at Jujitsu, Shoko took care of you and instructed me to let you rest, and to keep guard outside your door incase you woke with a concussion and needed help." He seemed less cheerful than usual, as caution donned his beautiful face.

Still grabbing at my head with one hand, I tried to chuckle but nothing came out. I grabbed at my throat and felt deep lacerations run along my jugular. In a panic I sit bolt up right, clutching at my throat, trying to make any sound auditable.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he says, rushing to the side of my bed, placing his hands on mine and bringing them slowly away from my scars. " You'll be okay, Shoko said it'll take a few days for your voice to come back, but after that you'll be absolutely fine. That bastard got you good, I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop it before it got to you." Disappointment flooded his face, and I try to muster a smile, and shake my head. I use my fingers to sign "it's okay" in BSL, this clearly perplexed him. He looked down at my fingers, back at my face, back to my fingers and back to my face again, with an blank stare.

"Errrrr, what? I didn't think you knew about domain expansions yet...what the hell are you trying to do?!" He grabbed at my hands and pushed them into my lap, completely confused he looks back at my hands.

I try to giggle and make a pen and paper gesture as he frees my hands, to which he runs off and riffles through my draws to find. It's on my nightstand next to me, but he continues to dramatically find said pen and paper. Holding pairs of my pants, glancing at them and slightly giggling to himself quietly, like a school boys first time seeing girls pants, he throws them behind him and finally finds a pen and some scrap paper. Returning to my side, he passes them to me and after scribbling for a second, I shove the paper in his face that simply reads,

"GIVE THEM BACK."

I stare at his pocket and give the "give me" gesture with my hand, clasping it open and shut repeatedly. He pulls a bright pink thong from his pocket.

"Ooooh, how did THEY get in there. Heh." He chuckles, tilting his head sideways and giggling to himself.

I scribble again. 'Nice try.'

He jumps up from the side of my bed and rushes out the door. 'fuck me then I guess... Bye?' I start to scribble, hoping he'd look back before disappearing, but it was too late. Having left my door wide open, I try to get out of bed to close it and immediately topple to the floor. I couldn't feel my feet. I look up, defeated, and see him stood in my doorway again, this time holding 3 notebooks, about 10 pens, and 2 bags full of small boxes.

"As nice as you look on your knees Infront of me, what part of rest do you not understand?" He whisks me up in an instant and puts me back into bed. "Now, here's some food and plenty of paper so you can scribble your demands to your own personal Gojo nurse." He places his hands on his hips, comically striking a fanciful pose before catching a glimpse of a note on my bed out of the corner of his eye.

"hmm what's my next demand? Oh... Fuck me? Well...straight to the point I see." He smirks, holding the paper tightly in his hands. My face turns bright red as I scramble for the note books to explain that it was part of a previous note, to which he pulls them away from me and leans down close, looking at me from over his glasses. "Maybe when you're all better." He winks and clicks his tongue at me.

"Anyway, this nurse has to run some errands quickly, I'll be back in a little while. At least pretend to rest, I can see you're already pretty stubborn, but there's this new ice-cream flavour I've been meaning to try, and I know JUST the movie we have to watch later. Cya!" I lay my head back into the pillows and clench my eyes shut! Why did it have to be me that lost my voice? It would've been significantly funnier if it were him that lost his ability to ramble! Maybe then I could be his nurse....

After 2 days of Gojo doing his best at play pretend nurse, and sleeping next to me, ontop of the duvet every night in case I needed anything throughout, I finally managed to get my voice to come back!

"Fuck off" I lowly grumble, as my voice finally starts to become somewhat audible. It's a low, croaky husk, but it counts!

"Of course your first words are an insult to me." Gojo giggles, trying to help me stand but ultimately pushing me back onto the bed as I topple backwards.

"Seeeee, be nice to your nurse or she'll spike your meds." He taunts, looking down at me struggling to sit back up.

"Now that you're all better, I guess I can finally leave this smelly room and go back to my glorious kind size bed. Ooooh how I've missed comfort of any kind. These last few weeks of sleeping on nothing but ROCKS on the floor have ravished my good looks and fragile body!" He lays his arm over his forehead dramatically, pretending he's been at all hard done by.

"you....had...most....of....the...bed....every....night..." I slowly grumble, throwing a notebook at him, narrowly missing him.

"Yeah yeah, it might as well of been rocks on the floor, how do you sleep on that horrible thing?! I feel like I've aged 30 years already." He leans back, clicking his back and bends forward, stretching his lower back muscles, then waltzes to the door.

"Right, don't forget, if you need anything, ask literally anyone else from now on, Kay?" He smirks and with that, hes gone.

I won't lie, having his undivided attention and company these past few days has been nice. I find myself missing it already...a DVD case hurled its way towards me, hitting me in the middle of my forehead.

"Oh, and we're watching THIS tonight." I hear from the shadows of the corridor.

"At...least....close...the....DOOR..." I try to shout, grabbing at my throat.

After a terrible movie, I can barely keep my eyes open through, I find myself drifting off towards the last half of the film. When I wake I'm snuggled into Gojo's chest, with his head hanging back on my bedframe, snoring loudly. Careful not to wake him, I lay my head back down gently and smile at the position we've found yourself in.

A low, tired voice mumbles, "I saw that." Eyes still closed, smiling at me, I feel his arm pull me slightly closer into him, before his snoring continues.

The next few days I worked on getting my balance back and my voice better. Gojo had to go off on another mission, but promised to bring me back some fancy porno mags he finds at his next destination. I find myself sulking that I now had to sleep by myself again at night, and realized just how much I did miss his comforting snores. I turned to class the day after he left, finding comfort in the routine returning, I couldn't help but find myself looking towards the door every couple of hours. He hadn't returned in 4 days now, were his missions usually this long? Was our recuperation session too much for him, feeling bad about potentially leading me on, was he now avoiding me?

After a week of no Gojo, and my first chance at trying training again, I hear a chuckle from Geto as he watches Megumi wipe the floor with me, hardly holding back at all.

"You'd think he'd try to be more gentlemanly wouldn't you? Especially after what you went through, but alas, still a child with the trophy in his sights." Getos gentle smile made the pain ease slightly, as he gestured for me to walk with him.

"Now, please don't feel like you have to accept this invitation, especially not in your current state, but I spoke to Saturo and we both decided it would be good for you to get back out into the field." His calming voice settled any worries that arose from the initial statement, I agreed and asked him to assure me I was going to be a hindrance on whoever I was joining.

"Don't worry, you'll be joining me. It's only a Grade 3 curse, and even in your weakened state I'm confident even you could best it." He turns his head towards me, smiling gently still, and I accept.

"Perfect. We leave in 20."

"Right...now?" I confusingly express, looking down at my dirty uniform. "I don't think I have...enough time to change and....meet you back here in time." My voice still hurting to speak, but slowly regaining it's original tone.

"Don't worry, we'll only be an hour at best, I'm sure you'll be fine." He reassures me, and walks me to the archway, awaiting our car.

After a short ride, we arrive at the edge of the city, immediately Geto runs from the car and enters a building to our left.

"I don't know why he offered to take you to this, he's almost as fast as Gojo, and in your state, you'll be lucky to meet the door before he's finished absorbing it." Ijichi explains, a worried brow creases his forehead.

"I'm sure I'll..be fine." I whisper, stepping outside of the car. I walk towards the building Geto ran into and immediately get bombarded with curses spilling out of the now flung open door. They force me to the floor and trample me.

"Ambush!" I hear Geto scream, I hear ijichi's footsteps running towards me before a hand grabbing the front of my shirt rips me into the stampede and carries me away.

I try to scramble my way out of the mass, before darkness enshrouds me and completely blocks my view. A voice suddenly bellows from above me,

"Two men trying to protect you? You must be worth something." The mass parts like the red sea above me, peeling away a curtain of bodies to show a woman, floating above me. A slender woman with a low cut top, miniskirt and a long flowing black jacket, floated down towards me.

"I could have sworn Gojo and Geto were getting it on, but then I see him straddling you in that abandoned building, and I just thought....let me guess, Geto lets you share him on the weekends?" She smirked, tracing my jaw with a finger. I pull my face away and try to swipe at her, she laughs slightly and appears next to me,

"I wouldn't blame you yano, they're both so intoxicating aren't they! I can smell the aroma of love leaking from your pours, you're almost as in love as I am, now tell me....which one?" I lay back, trying to flick my legs out to kick her but with the bodies still moving under me, and her immense speed becoming even more apparent, I flail and nearly get sucked back under the mass supporting me.

"Lust. Leave her be. She's a newbie, a nobody." I hear Gojo's voice from the surrounding area, the woman lets out a flirtatious laugh and the mass slowly, dropping the support as I crash on the ground. As the mass dissipates, I suddenly feel a weight on my back, it's her, she's now sat on me.

"So you've succumbed to your urges and are straddling nobodies now are you, Gojo? I thought you had a little more restraint than that." She reaches down, starting to play with my hair. I try to roll over but then she appears, straddling me now.

"I mean, I wouldn't blame you, she's kinda cute... especially when she's scared." She leans forward and tries to press her lips onto mine, I fling my hand into her bright white hair and pull it from behind, forcing her to arch back up.

"Feisty too, I see why you like her." She giggles, slashing giant claws at my stomach and appearing instantly next to Gojo who now stands almost at my feet, lunging towards me. She reaches to grab him by the collar but her hand gets blocked by an invisible wall. She chuckles and gets forcefully pushed away as Gojo spins around and flicks his fingers in her direction.

Pulling me to my feet, he takes out a bandage from his back pocket and shoves it into my hands, forcefully.

"Fix yourself up, " he looks down at the blood pooling at our feet, "FUCK!" he grabs me, as I start to fall to my knees.

"it's not my blood Gojo!" I pant, desperately looking to see if his shirt is soaked in any way.

"Its..mine." Geto mumbles, dropped from above us to our feet. Large lacerations cover his chest and arms, as the woman laughs at her artwork lacing his body.

Gojos eyes widen as he suddenly grabs both me and Getos arms. Suddenly we were then flung into the car, as Gojo desperately orders ijichi to take us to Shoko. He slams the doors and we speed off. I try to help stop the bleeding from Getos chest as he pants that hes fine. I look back out the car window and see flashes of red and blue fill the sky.

"He'll be fine...he's bested her before. He always wins. That beautiful maniac always wins." Geto musters between pants as I try to apply pressure to his wounds. He lets his head drop back down as he passes out.

After Shoko meets us at the gates, and ijichi helps carry Geto to her office, she fixes us up. I only have minor bruising and scraps, so she focuses her attention on Geto who's significant bleeding doesn't slow. After an hour or so, she finally fixes him up and orders me away, I return to my room and flop on my bed, still terrified that Gojo was fighting that lady in the alleyway.

I jolt awake after having apparently passed out from exhaustion, to Gojo laying next to me, panting heavily, his beautiful white hair now strained with blood splatters. His shirt ripped open and trousers barely held on to his hips, as I automatically placed a hand on his chest.

"Such....a....bitch" he pants, barely able to control his breathing. I pull my hand away as he grabs it, putting it back in its place on him.

"Not you, idiot, that stupid bitch from before. She nearly got me a few times there, who the hell strips naked half way through a fight anyway?!" His annoyance seemed to disappear as he spoke, "kinda hot though so, can't really complain." He giggles, half opening an eye to look at me.

"Seeing her straddle you too, whilst trying to make out with you," he makes a chefs kiss pose with his hand to his lips, " now that's something I won't forget for awhile." His grin fades slowly as he starts to snore, he's clearly exhausted so I let him rest, pulling a blanket over him as he lay half sprawled across the bed on top of the duvet.

I slowly slide out of the bed and head to the kitchen area of the building to get him some water and food, when I turn around and drop the glass shattering on the floor. He stood leaning against the doorframe; his usual stance apparently now, with his shirt still undone, and now in his boxers which also barely clung to his hips, it seemed even the slightest breeze would make them fall to the floor revealing his manhood. His head hung lower and soft pants leaving his mouth.

"Don't leave me high and dry like that, I wanted to snuggle." Lifting his head slightly, he flashes a soft half smile at me.

"I...er..wanted to get you some food and...wait, snuggle?" I let out an embarrassed chuckle as I try to sweep the floor of the remaining glass shards. As I'm bent down I feel his back suddenly pressed against mine as he lays over me, his head over my shoulder,

"Carry me to bed. I'm tiiiired."

"if we weren't back to back I could, now get...off." I shove backwards getting him to stumble to his feet,

"HEY! I took care of you, now it's time to return the favour! I don't want Shoko touching me everywhere, scolding me for not being more careful, and for letting you and Geto get hurt, AGAIN."

"GETO! Is he okay?!" The worry in my voice apparently stirring something in him,

"Yeah yeah, your boyfriends fine. It'll take more than a pair of tits to bring him down. Well, now that I say that..." Jealousy lingers on his lips as he trails off, chuckling to himself.

"Oooo someones jealous." I tease, putting the shards in the bin and fixing him a new drink. "Now, let's get back and I can be your nurse this time." My face flusters as I actually said this out loud, instead of keeping it inside.

"My nurse ey?" He tilts his head and looks at me over his glasses, raising his eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

I try to hide my flustered face as I turn to walk out the door,

"C'mon now, time to change your adult diaper." I giggle, trying desperately to walk away from this awkward situation I had put myself in.

"Nah, I think it's time for a bubble bath. You proooooomised."

Getting back to my room, he flops on the bed face down and lets out an exhausted long moan. I perch next to him and trace my fingers up and down his back, comforting him.

"Mmmmmm... Up a bit, left a bit, down a bit, yeeeeeeeah" he shudders, directing my light tickles. He spins around and as I pull away, he places my hand back on his abdomen and lets out a needy 'hmm' as he drags my hand up and down frantically, implying he wants me to do the same but to his front now. As I try to copy the patterns I did on his back, I can't help but trace the indentations of his abs, terrified of tracing a little too close to his pelvis.

"You're allowed to go lower y'know, I don't bite. Not when I'm this exhausted anyway." He lets out a soft chuckle as he keeps his eyes closed and flings an arm over his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, I bet I am." I tease, circling back round to the top half of his stomach. He grabs my hand and slowly starts to drag it lower.

"Can you do it there for me please? It kinda tickles." He leads my hand so I'm tracing over his hips, just an inch away from where his waist band sits. I can feel the nervousness rise in my body as I'm practically glowing red now. I feel a throbbing sensation take over my body. I pull my hand away and sit back slightly, clearly uncomfortable with this new sensation filling me to the brim. He pulls his arm slightly up from his right eye, sleepily peering out at me,

"Not like it? That's fine, sorry I asked." He lets his arm fall back over his eye.

"It's not...nevermind." I make my way to the top of the bed and climb under the duvet, careful not to kick him in the top of the head as I wiggle my legs under. He sits up and climbs himself under the duvet too, he needily forces his head under my arm and cuddles to my chest.

"Mmmm. Now I get to be the little koala." His head nestles between my boobs as he sinks into me, I immediately feel my chest start to race.

"Y'alright? Sounds like you've run a marathon." He sleepily exhales, as he snuggles closer into my chest, almost suffocating himself.

"Hmhm." I muster, trying to control my breathing. Was he blissfully unaware that he was nearly suffocating, or did he genuinely just not care? I lay my head back and continue to trace my fingers along his back as he nestles into me.

"Can you even breathe in there?" I chuckle, looking down at him, my boobs covering his nose and mouth almost entirely. He nestles deeper into his chest, almost pushing me back further into the mattress. A muffled 'mmhmm' comes from his mouth. His arm drapes across my waist as he comes up for air, his white hair a mess covering most of his face.

"Built in cushions, you're lucky yano that!"

"Well I can't exactly use them myself now can I?" I giggle, looking down at him all doey eyed and sleepy.

"True, my bad." He nestles down back into them, "more for me then." He says muffled, back into the 'built in pillows'.

I lay my head back and softly chuckle, as I feel his hand move slowly towards my hips. So slow infact, for a second I assumed I was making it up, but as I realize he is indeed moving, my legs tighten together. He lets out a soft laughing exhale and flattens his warm hands on my waist band.

"Don't worry, I'm only teasing." He muffled, still content with barely being able to breathe.

"I'll let you wiggle if you want me to carry on." Suddenly I am incredibly aware of every muscle in my body, instinctively I try not to move, thoughts racing through my mind.

"Oh yeah, a thinker." He giggles to himself. I lightly tap the back of his head in annoyance, and a low annoyed 'mmm' comes from him.

"I wouldn't want to take advantage of a poor, injured boy." I say, flustered, terrified to let him know my body now physically aching for him to continue.

"Poor? Boy?" He lifts his head up slightly, looking up at me with his eyes half open. "Poor? Definitely not. Boy? Even less likely. " He pushes his hand slightly harder onto my waistband. As I sharply inhale, he lets out a low giggle and smiles to himself.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what I thought." He says, flopping his head back down onto the suffocating mound of my chest.

Almost instinctively my hips move slightly, my body defying my mind, and he slowly moves his pinkie finger so it rests slightly underneath the elastic band of my pants. I sharply inhale as he slowly continues to move the rest of his hand lower and lower into my pants.

He begins to leg his middle finger slide down into my creases, applying the slightest twing of pressure on my clit. I jolt and he giggles, inhaling my scent, he pushes his head harder into my chest, as I feel his mouth open slightly. As he begins to slowly circle my clit, I feel him softly kissing my chest, I grab the bedsheet with my other hand and squeeze tightly almost pulling it off the side of the mattress. Getting faster with his circling, I arch my back and feel euphoria fill my body, as he slides his fingers down and teases the entrance to my pussy. I let out a slight moan as I grind into his hand, he lifts his head and starts to push his hips into the side of me. Kissing my neck, he slowly enters a finger into me, his long appendage reaching places I never could, and I feel him press on the spongey button I was completely unaware was inside me. A sharp exhale leaves me breathless as I grab the back of his hair. Sliding teasingly slowly into and out of me, I feel his other hand reach down as he starts to rub his cock. A low growling 'mmmm' leaves his closed lips as he starts to turn my hips towards him, I feel him get faster with his thrusts, each time pressing harder and harder inside me. As he quickens, I feel him rubbing the tip of his head onto my clit, up and down slowly teasing me with soaking wet I already am. I grab his hand and pull it from me, and as I do so, he reaches round to grab my hips and pulls me closer to him.

Reaching down he guides his precum glistening head to the entrance of my pussy and stops, teasing me. He reaches down to grab my thigh and pulls it so it's now hooked over the top of his hip as we face each other. He nudges his chin on top of my head, to get me to look up at him, as his glassy lips softly meet mine. Before embracing he whispers into my open mouth,

"Tell me to do it." His low voice almost heavenly whispering to me. "Tell me to put it in you. Tell me to fuck you. T,tell me."

"P,please. Please fuck me. I need to feel you." I beg. And as this escapes my lips, me thrusts his throbbing head into me.

"Think you can take it?" He proudly asks, holding the back of my neck with his hand.

"Make it fit, make me take it." I instruct, completely dickdrunk already, before he's even done anything to me really. He lets out a devious exhale and his smirk widens, as he pulls me closer to him, thrusting deeper into me.

With a sharp inhale, I now see what he means, barely half way in and I'm already struggling to breathe. I swear he's about to rearrange my womb to my throat at this rate. He starts to thrust in and out of me, slowly at first, trying to inch more and more of himself inside of me, before I dip my heel into the back of his hip, and pull him all the way in. We both gasp at the sheer pleasure of his now soft pubes meeting my clit, as he then pushes me to my back and presses his hand next to head onto the mattress. Holding onto my thigh with his other hand, he begins to thrust his cock deep inside me, each thrust filling me up like he's trying to push the air from my lungs. With each thrust, my moans become louder and longer, he shoves his tongue into my mouth as we begin to moan between flicks. He sits back and puts my leg over his shoulder, one hand on my lower stomach and the other around my throat, he now begins to pick up the pace.

"Say it. Say my name. Let everyone know who's pussy this is." He grunts, digging his nails into the ankle he's holding.

"Sat...Sat...Saturo...It's...yours...I'm yours.." I gasp, desperately trying to get my brain to form any coherent words. Pounding harder and harder, I can feel every vein, every muscle contracting inside of me, he lets go of my throat and slaps me across the face.

"Yeah, that's right, let everyone hear...you're fucking Gojo, the greatest sorcerer in the world. And you're going to have his cum leaking out of you for days." Grunting, sweat dropping down his Adams apple onto me, I open my mouth to taste it.

"Oh, you wanna TASTE me now do you?" He smirks, "Well, if I wasn't so hellbent on cumming inside of you, I would've let you taste all of me." He grabs my face, and thrusts slower, deeper inside of me. I feel him swell bigger with each longer thrust, as he releases his hot cum inside of me, failing slightly closer to me, he catches his fall with his arm placed next to me.

He lets out a low giggle as he stays inside me, his white hair dripping wet with sweat, strewn across his face.

"Well," he pants, "I'm sure everyone now knows who's pussy this is." Closing my eyes I let out a laugh between deep pants, and moan and a quiet 'yeah' from my lips.

He pulls himself out me, a string of cum still connecting his head to my pussy, he flops next to me. Both frantically panting, he looks over at me and a sweet smile grows on his face.

"Yano, I could do better. Give me five and I'll try again." He chases the sweat dripping in-between my chest down to my belly button, and slaps the tiny pool of sweat gathered there. I flinch and swat his hand away.

"I'm barely conscious as is, how about 10?" I mumble, barely able to keep my eyes open.

He climbs back ontop of me, cock still hard, he leans in close to my ear and whispers,

"I meant seconds."

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cass-danny-weekend · 3 days ago

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Cass/Danny Weekend - Fun Fact! Day 7

And so, the beginning of the end. Today is the penultimate fun fact for the Cass/Danny Weekend, and we hope you've all had a blast. For these last two days, I want to talk about a point that I found very interesting and how it mirrored our two characters.

So, and to say this as plainly as I can, Cass and Danny are not often depicted as smart. What do I mean by that? After all, Cass works side-by-side with the World's Greatest Detective. She has to deal with all sorts of Gotham Rogues and genius strategists whose psychological warfare could break the best of men. How is she not smart?

And that's the thing. She is smart. She's just not smart in the traditional way, in the way that society dictates people should be.

Nevermind Cass' training, her intimate knowledge of the human body and how it works, and of course how to break it. In many comics you will read about her, and especially in the early days of her career as Batgirl, Cass is depicted to be inarticulate and illiterate. That is, she cannot speak and read. And while we as an audience can see how capable she is, in a real world sense, she would be considered mentally disabled.

And these are real disabilities that she struggles with for a long time in her comics career. Even when the psychic meta tried to reorient her brain hoping it would help her, there was still a steep learning curve. No amount of powers could automatically fix it all. Because language is a skill you have to learn, and for a long time she never had the opportunity to learn it. Yet just because she can't communicate the traditional way, doesn't mean she doesn't know how to express herself in other ways. This meta includes some great comic panels from the Batgirl (2000) edition that uses framing, body language, and perspective to showcases how her story can be told, despite a general lack of dialogue from her.

And of course, we can't go without touching on Cass and her ability to "read" people. Essentially, Cass takes note of people's muscle movements, posture, and other physical, active traits to anticipate blows or intent, emotions. (Keep in mind, that after the psychic altered her brain, Cass loses this ability. Don't ask me how that works, that's just comics logic for you.) Except it won't always be a perfect read. Because while there are many details that are naked to her eye, that doesn't always mean she can make out a lie. That doesn't always mean she can't have all the right pieces and still come to the wrong conclusion.

There is a common misconception in fandom that Cass seems to have perfect emotional intelligence just because she can read people's feelings, despite their attempts to hide it. Wayne Family Adventures shows us that, although this skill allows her to be more forward with people, it doesn't mean she always knows the right time to approach it and much less how to tactfully do so. You can look at Episodes 32 and 33 of the first season to see how Cass handles this after pushing Stephanie's boundaries when she, with good intentions, tried to force her to open up.

Now you're probably thinking, "Halfa, this is depressing. Are you telling me that Cass has no advantages at all?" And to that I say, no advantages? No advantages?!

Cass has had the odds stacked against her for her entire life and despite an abusive childhood and torture disguised as training, Cass still had the autonomy and critical thinking to realize, in critical moments, what choice she has to make. That's huge! Disabilities are so often depicted poorly (and let's face it, DC doesn't do a great job either), and characters with these disabilities treated poorly as a result. And yet we have a titular character who does not let these disabilities dictate her life!

No, she doesn't have it easy! No, she doesn't have any real advantages. And that's what makes her relatable. That's what makes her character real. Because we don't have automatic advantages. There is no perfect catch-all that will make life smooth-sailing. But despite it all, that doesn't mean we have to give up.

Cass spent nine years homeless. Think about that. In a world so dependent on technology, on being able to communicate on a basic level to get by day to day, or even to read something as basic as a map, Cass survived. She survived nine years on her own. That is a testament to her character. Her disabilities made her life harder. It did not make her life impossible.

And I think that's a message we can all stand to remember in our lives.

Thank you for following our adventures with Cass. We hope you learned something new about her that made you fall in love with her character all over again.

- Mod Halfa

#cassdannyweekend25 #cassandra cain #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #dcxdp #dcxdp crossover

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months ago

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Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier (No relation to the AU of the same name)

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #better drawn mdzs #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #Another split type comic because I decided to be ambitious.#This flashback is currently beating my ass. There are so many timeskips within the flashback! My flow and pacing are wheezing!#I loved how this scene starts with the crowd's point of view. The observations and gossip add a lot.#And it helps reposition us to what the external perspective is on these two. Namely that 'they don't get along.'#Tensions are known! Even here in Nouveau Lotus Pier.#Ah...Lan Wangji never got a chance to see the Lotus Pier of Wei Wuxian's childhood and adolescence...did he?#It's not the same. He's not the same. Call them by the same name and people will know what you mean...#...but the first version - the one with the fond memories - is gone for good.#It's sort of interesting isn't it? How names can hold so much power and still be hollow?#We often get stuck over past versions of things. Be it ourselves or other people or places.#Change is scary but the truth is nothing ever stays the same. It's always moving. You're always moving.#It's okay to mourn the past. Maybe it's people you lost or the person you hoped to be. Let yourself feel the grief.#And then? Then you grow around that pain and keep on going. If you feel like you can't - remember you don't have to do it alone.#A side note: Listening to the tossing flowers extra is so essential for this scene. It's cute and gives us more of [redacted]#What's [redacted]? You'll see in the next comic!

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taravangians-storming-balls · 8 months ago

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pov you're a soldier getting ready and you're like "oh shit, can't forget to put that rotten fruit in my pocket to throw at slaves in the event I survive. hope it doesn't smush in my pocket and get every where while I'm literally fighting for my life"

#literally though where were they keeping that fruit where it wouldn't get squished #stormlight archive #the way of kings #this is a side note and not the point. but I can't help but feel like the majority of the fandom would've written moash #as freaking out and needing to be held back by bridge four in this scene. really he's very used to others mistreating HIM #to memory most of the scenes we get of moash being a little hothead when being insulted is when people are insulting kaladin #anywayyyyyy #my-storming-posts

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moiraimyths · 9 months ago

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Before we call anon rude because let’s see it from their perspective, imagine getting an entire feast to eat. That can be pretty hard to start with so much that’s going on, but if they start with one thing they know they’ll like (aka one character they like) that can be the start for them leaping to other characters to finish the story and the bigger story. I struggle the same way to start book series if I don’t have at least one character that drives me to read it, it’s all about what can be the hook to push them through. Sounds like the anon is neurodivergent (just a guess) so they might genuinely not see it as rude and see it as a solution to even play the game to start with.

Btw absolutely adore the game, the complex and rich characters making them all so unique is amazing. The art is so pleasing to the eyes I love it!! I’m waiting for it all to get out at once so I don’t get too impatient. Shae however interests me the most, which routes will have the most lore for them? Will there be routes that give more lore in general based on decisions you make or do they all share the same amount? (I mean general lore not just Shae lore)

Apologies; we are not trying to accuse any asker of being rude! We are simply explaining our perspective as the developers / are trying to broadly encourage folks to dip their toes into other areas of the story outside of the main route(s) they're interested in, especially considering some routes will be made available sooner than others, and these other routes will likely contain additional scenes/lore of everyone's fave(s) regardless! We want to give each main cast member an equal amount of love (and lore) regardless of their overall popularity, so our goal is not to tut-tut anyone for having strong preferences for one character over the others, but rather to explain that you may be surprised by how much *more* you learn about your preferred characters in the other routes. That's all!

For Shae... Well, they were a foot soldier for one of the worst periods of the War. Lore wise, any other story that touches on the War will likely have content relevant to them and their experiences. ^^

#ask #clotho answers #edit/final note: we got a *few* asks on this subject and will not likely answer all of them for the sake of our followers' dashboards #but we also want to note that part of our encouragements here come from the fact that Flan/Keagan are our most popular characters by a lot #and we want to do what we can to gently nudge folks who may not want to romance the fem / nb characters into checking out their stories #despite not being into them romantically. this is half of why we have platonic routes to begin with #we recognize veterans to the dating sim world may feel less inclined to romance characters that don't align with their irl orientations #this isn't a bad thing. some people steer clear of dating sims altogether because they're aro or just not interested in romance stories etc #but the unintentional side effect of this is it has a chilling effect on developers even in the indie sphere to make less diverse stories #if Flan and Keagan are our most popular characters then they will be our most *profitable* characters in the long run #and as much as we would love to not care about money and just produce the story we want to tell #we live in a society (tm) and need to eat #if at the end of ndm's development we see that 90% of our engagement went toward the boys it is hard to ignore the financial incentive #to redirect our energy toward leaning into the 'tried and true' formula that assures we can buy groceries and make rent #basically what i am candidly saying here is capitalism is pretty bad for creative liberty unless you're already rich / able to self finance #which we are not. and currently none of the core devs make *anything* from ndm #it would be nice if it does turn a profit but that isn't a guarantee - which the team has accepted as a normal risk in game development #anyway this is getting rambly but the Point is that this goes beyond us wanting to make sure all sides of our story are equally appreciated #it is *partly* that - we do want players to experience the entirety of our artwork #but it's not just for our egos - it's so we can keep making art like this #i considered including this in the body of the post but money talk suuucks man #and i don't want anyone to think we're glaring at them in a holier than thou 'ah-ha! you don't want to play maeve's route because she's a #woman!' sort of way because i think that's a reductive way to look at things #people like what they like and there's nothing intrinsically wrong with that #but if you like that we're making a diverse story #with masc routes fem routes and nb routes #even if you don't personally want to romance x or y #it would help us if y'all play the platonic routes #we are trying our very very best to make the fem/nb routes interesting for Everyone so those stories don't get sidelined #and if you don't like them for their own sake - fair enough! can't win em all and we'll deeply appreciate that you tried anyway!

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draco-renn · 11 months ago

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Man. All I do these days is fail to meet expectations and then get upset at myself for failing to meet those expectations. This sucks.

#the dragon sings his songs #blowing out smoke #i'm supposed to be taking this break from my course as an opportunity to do the things I've been meaning to do and I've just been rotting—#—in bed on my phone and sleeping in and jacking off like i hardly even get up to eat or go to the bathroom #side note i know this is a textbook sign of depression and burnout (comma) most likely both (comma) but who in my Chinese family is going—#—to believe that? def not mom who'll just scream at me for not sucking it up and pushing through it and not dad who won't do shit #my grandparents might believe me but there's a language barrier on mom's side plus 公公 seems to think I'm the perfect infallible capable—#—[granddaughter] and I can't bear to break his heart with the truth #and then on dad's side they'll probably be sympathetic but everything i tell them makes its way back to my parents and that'll just result—#—in ont huge blowup that'll drive another wedge between mom and dad. and I mean PLEASE hurry up and get divorced but I also don't want 爺爺—#—and 嫲嫲 to get caught in the crossfire #plus I'm supposed to be helping them esp now that 爺爺 is running out of time as an active able-bodied person but instead of doing that I—#—spent all day in bed. which is not helping my guilt and shame on top of everything else i have to deal with (comma) let alone his workload #today's such a nice sunny beautiful day too which makes me feel even worse for not even going for a walk or anything #it's still light out so i could but sunk cost fallacy is kicking my ass plus i have Mandarin class kn a couple hours #and k know it's a couple HOURS but I'd have to get dressed and set a timer and everything and just the thought is so overwhelming that I—#—just can't. i'd ask to be institutionalized if it wasn't for the rampant ableism in the mental health field plus the fact that—#—institutionalization is just an extension of incarceration #if only the people who have power over me would just listen and actually take care of me so i wouldn't have pushed myself to this point

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dontmixpaintinyourcoffee · 3 months ago

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This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.

#coffeepaintart #jonathan sims #jon sims #tma #the magnus archives #scopophobia #scopophobia tw #tw scopophobia #the archivist #tma fanart #tma art #if i need to tag any other tws or cws lmk

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dilf-docs · 3 months ago

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Call It What You Want

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: you and pedro are married, but you've kept it a secret up to the point you sometimes forget there's supposed to be a golden band on your finger. but then you both get cast in your first movie together. the chemistry is off the charts, and it starts to catch upon you: will the lines between shipping and reality finally blur?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (ñom), smut, dry humping, oral (m. receiving) while pedro wears the skirt™️ (welcome to another episode of the writer's barely disguised fetish), p. in v., teeny bit of angst because i malfunction if i don't bring sad vibes to the function, the worst ever attempt of comedy witnessed by human kind, they're so down bad it hurts, jealous!reader, possesive!pedro, reader speaks spanish and may or may not have direct/indirect latino blood somewhere, use of spanglish but no translations ☹️ (boo go do your homework, citizens. that's what u get for making my dieter bravo fic flop BYE), i transcripted two real interviews for this so keep those likes, reblogs and comments up in the air where i can see 'em 🪓🪓

word count: 11,706 words

side note: hello! this is me, sliding my cv to become president of the pedro pascal fics. i'm kidding, just on duty to fulfill another request 🫡 believe it or not, i envisioned something like this but for myself IJBOL we have to keep the delusional levels UP!! i hope this meets ur expectations, it was fun to write :)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"Please welcome, the internet's newest darling, Y/n L/n!"

You walk into the set, cameras flashing bright and the band playing on the back. You hug Jimmy Fallon, and when he notices your body trembling he tells you everything will be alright. So did your manager before you stepped inside, but you can't help the nerves. You've never been this big before, and now it's all coming down together without letting you breath.

You take your seat and so does Jimmy.

"Hello, Y/n. This is your first time here, right?"

"Am I being too obvious?" you snort. The crowd laughs with you.

"Don't worry. It happens, especially when you're so young"

"Oh, please" you blush. "I can promise you there are kid actors who could handle this better than I am right now"

"Kid stars?" he lets out one of his famous cackles. "No need to be humble. You are great! Let's just talk about the year you've had: big breakout roles, ascend to fame, you're rocking it!" the crowd cheers, and you again turn into a flustered mess.

"Yeah, I suppose. It's hard to dimension when you've started as an extra for popular shows, to now being, you know, the main face of projects. But I could get used to it" you smile, "it's been a dream. I still can't believe it sometimes, look- I'm shaking"

The camera pans closer to the hand you're showing to Jimmy.

"Oh my God, even big stars like you get nervous"

"Big star? I wish I could feel like a constellation. I'm feeling more like a red dwarf star, baby"

The whole place bubbles in laughter. You feel better, your manager even giving you a thumbs up from behind the cameras.

"So, Y/n" Jimmy says once the laughter dies. "You just got casted in the upcoming Gladiator II movie, directed by Ridley Scott. How does it feel to be on your first big movie, alongside names like Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington and Pedro Pascal?"

You try to steady your heartbeat. "First of all, I have to say, it's such an honor to work with Scott. I grew up watching his movies. Like, Thelma and Louis is definitely my go-to movie. So, like, getting paired with such a talented cast is as awesome as terrifying" you answer with a laugh.

"Talking about that, you see" he leans closer, like he'll tell a secret. "I've heard things about you and a certain future co-star of yours"

You shift your position on the couch, your ring(less) finger itching. You have to avoid breathing in relief when Jimmy pulls out a picture.

"Oh. My. God"

He stiffles a laugh. No way. Has the room's temperature suddenly gotten hotter? Why is your face burning?

"Will you tell us the story behind this?" he asks, the camera focusing on the picture in question. The audience laughs, and you pray to God this is a nightmare, because it's too much embarrasment for a human to bear.

"Okay" you clear your throat, coughing awkwardly. "For my 25th birthday, I uploaded a bunch of pictures on Instagram, including ones where I was a teenager" you begin to giggle, "So. Um, there was this one, you see, that's, me, in my childhood home's bedroom, and my fans were quick to notice the poster above my bed"

"You mean, this one?" and Jimmy points it out. You cover your face with your palms. "It's a... Narcos poster" the audience laughs as you get redder. "A Pedro Pascal's Narcos poster"

"I know" you groan. "Picture this: me 18, and while my friends had posters of their favorite bands and artists, I was so different because I had a whole ass poster of a crime drama show about the world's most famous drug dealer on my bedroom" you recall with a laugh. "It was hard to explain to my mom. I believe she thought I wanted to sign for the DEA or something. When I told her I was going to be an actress, she was so relieved! She said: Oh, well. You'll die, but of hunger! Not a bullet in your head, at least"

"Oh. I'm so sorry. You proved her wrong though!"

"I did! Don't worry, Jimmy. She's my biggest fan now" you look at a specific camera before saying, "Te amo mami!"

"I see you speak spanish. I sometimes forget" he comments. "You've got one thing in common with Pedro, it seems. Think that'll make working with him less awkward?"

"I just hope he forgives me or I'm capable of moving out of the country and changing names" you giggle. "Pedro, lo siento!"

"Well, that's Y/n L/n, everyone! Pedro Pascal's number one fan" you burst out laughing in shame. "More on her lastest movie after the break"

mandoshoney: tell me i'm not the only one who started shipping pedro pascal and y/n l/n PLEASE can't wait to get content of them interacting ㅤㅤann-gell: mandoshoney y/n's pedro pascal's controversially young gf era starts now! i wonder how the press tour for #gladiatorII will go 🤔 unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they are dating ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess ptwt can never tweet like normal ppl…wdym you're betting your grandma?!!!?

You were never a fan of secrets.

But then Pedro waltzed into your life with his charming smile and iconic mustache, and before you knew it, you had married him off in some church in California one random sunday morning ("I love you so much, can't wait to marry you, cariño" "If you can't wait any longer, why not now?")

Flash forward, four years later, and you'd think such event would be plastered all over the internet. But there is a reason why only you, family, a selected number of friends and your agents knew: you kept it a secret.

To the world, he was Chile's most elegible bachelor and you were a young rising star. The public loved both of you for the same reasons: charming persona and acting skills. Yet inside the privacy of your home, he was Pedro and you were y/n, wife and husband; he was yours as you were his.

And of course, no marriage is perfect, and your first real challenge is rather funny: you both get casted in your first movie together.

It shouldn't be hard, but it is. Being inside the Gladiator II set during seven months, so far away yet so close at the same time, was torture. You were Rome's empress and he's Marcus Acacius, yet behind the scenes, the actual married couple were you both.

It was hard to pretend you didn't know what he looked like without clothes when he wore his bathing suit, or that you didn't know his favorite food when Paul asked, or acting like you weren't interested in dating when a local in Malta during your trip at the beach asked you out (he didn't know who you were. You were flattered when he called you pretty in such a hot European accent, but then Pedro appeared from seemingly "nowhere" and you remembered what your real favorite accent was. He immediately called you bonita after that)

It was so hard to keep hands to yourself when he walked by you, covered in fake blood. To not think about licking it all over and under his armour. So was to pretend the thought of dry humping him with his Roman skirt on wasn't tempting. Or that the urge to kiss him got harder and harder to fight each passing day, even getting to a point where you would envy Connie for being able to kiss your husband in the open more, a privilege you didn't have.

You were loosing your mental health here. But Pedro was no better.

It was so hard to see you, the Moroccan sun shining over your features like you were an angel. Otherworldly. That he'd see red when you'd finish filming a scene with Joseph, forcing himself to interrupt the small chat you'd engage in after. He too couldn't keep pretending he didn't want to tear off those silk dresses out of your body, and kiss you out in the open like Joseph did.

He almost failed once, cornering you in the hallway of the hotel you were staying. His hot breath lingered on your neck. I miss you, he had said. You felt his hard brush the inner of your thigh. We can't, you whispered in a dragged out voice.

It was hard.

So you gave him your used panties, and you swear you could hear him jacking off in the bathroom of his room, next to yours. He'd screamed your name, and your hand had found it's way to your dripping cunt, doing what he was supposed to do; touching you the way he did. And you came, drowned out moans against your pillow. But it wasn't like when he did it.

But God has heard your prayers.

For the first time in weeks, you're lucky. You find Pedro sitting alone in the cafeteria, his phone in hand. He's still wearing his armour and skirt, not bothering to change for the break. You aren't God's strongest soldier, but you're trying not to go down on him so badly right here and now.

"Hey" he raises his head when he hears your voice, smile adoringly. It only grows wider when he notices you alone. "Thought you'd never get rid of Paul. He's like, stitched to you"

"Same can be said about you and Joseph" you sit across him, and despite most of his tone being playful, there are still hints of jealousy behind. It arouses you deeply, and with this hot summer day above you, your skin isn't the only thing that's getting sticky.

"In case you haven't read the script, I'm his wife" you wink. "Sorry this is how you find out"

He laughs loudly, and God, how have you missed that laugh. Sure, it's been there when you've been out with the cast together, but it doesn't tingle your chest as when you're the cause of it; it feels like it's for you only, and that's what makes it special.

"I miss you so much" he whispers, his hand sliding across the table, finding yours. His thumb carresses your soft palm, and you melt under Pedro's tender touch.

"I do too" you sigh, but it's instantly replaced by what could only be described as a smug face. You lean closer, whispering on his ear, the warm meeting cold. He shivers. "Wanna know something?"

"I'm all ears"

"I just came back from walking. Guess what?No one is 'round here" you lean back against your chair, shit-eating grin on your face as all his body tenses up. "Made sure of it. The trailer zone is empty too"

Pedro gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as his eyes look at you.

"Y/n" calling your name as a warning.

"What? Can't a girl find ways to have her husband all for herself?" you snort. "Please say yes" you let go of his hand, but the free fingers now travel across his broad chest, taunting him. "C'mon, we both deserve a break"

He can't say deny you anything, can he? You know it, he knows it.

Before you register, his big hand engulfs yours as you run across the set. You giggle at his rushed steps, even more when you stand before his trailer and he's fumbling his slippery hands with the doorknob, sloppy movements erratic.

"But you told me to stop" you tease, and he doesn't even let you add more because he's pushing you inside, forcing you with rough calloused hands to a chair and then you to sit over his lap.

"Fuck, babygirl. I've spoiled you way too much" he groans against your lips. "Lo sabes, ¿verdad? Just can't say no to you"

Your eyes darken dangerously, the hunger on them mirroring his own.

"How could you ever say no to this?"

You press your chest against his broad one as your lip bites into his lower one, teasing. Pedro feels his underwear getting tighter when your tongue finds its way inside his mouth, even getting a glimpse of the taste of the strawberries you had earlier before.

He deepens the kiss, and when you pull away to catch your breath, he doesn't waste his lonely mouth and busies himself with the task of kissing your sun-kissed neck, licking and pressing his lips under your jaw. Pedro goes even lower, down until he's reached your collarbone, making you groan a bit under his wet sloppy needy mouth. He's enjoying how putty you are under his intense kissing, fingers in his curls, that have begun to damp under the ablaze of the small space and pleasure that fills the air.

"Kiss me again in my lips" you whine after a while of him teasing you with kisses that get only rougher. "Pretty please, papi"

You cup his face in your hands, and Pedro's back to kissing you in the mouth, tasting all of your insides as he hasn't had in what feels like a lifetime.

"Of course, baby. Missed this pretty mouth" he mumbles in between hot kisses, his now growing boner pressing into you.

"Baby" you giggle. The skirt he's got on may hide it, but your fingers refused to wait, pulling it up. His bulge presses against the shorts he's got under the skirt, and you can feel your pussy and mouth drool. "We have to do something about this big boy" your hands pull down the short, leaving just his underwear on. He's about to remove the skirt, but your demanding hands stops him. "This stays"

His brown concerned eyes make you laugh, but you don't give him time to think about it, rather grinding against his erection. Pedro's breath hitches when he feels your daring movements, bucking his hips against yours.

The friction is addicting, and he captures your lips once again to make you feel what he can't with words: how fucking good this feels.

You keep moving over his aching dick. Your husband throws his head back, groaning in pleasure at the way your hips move against him, knowingly. His hands find their way to your ass under the flowy almost translucent skirt you chose to change in, gripping the rosy skin tightly, hands almost covering all of it.

"You wore this for me, right, cariño? Knew I couldn't say no" he groans, firm hands on your cheeks, the grinding meeting his hips now harsher. "Less with you walking around with this slutty skirt of yours"

You make little sounds he's obssesed with, dripping out of your filthy mouth.

"Fuck" Pedro groans after a while, "I need to have you, mami. Missed you so much" eager fingers make it to your top. He growls, deep within him―guttural, ready to pull it off as he mumbles naughty wife when he realizes you got no bra on, chastising you for a "rushed" plan that seemed planned all along, when a sound cuts through the air.

You both stop.

The sound gets clearer.

It's a knock. A knock at his door.

A knock in Pedro's trailer.

And you are inside. Both.

While you're grinding him.

With his skirt on.

(It's time to build a bomb and kill yourselves off and whoever is stading behind that door)

"Pedro!" a familiar accent calls. Peudrou. It's Paul. "Hey, man. Just wondering if you are here"

He's debating on speaking up when he sees your red face and rising-falling chest before him.

"Answer" you whisper breathlessly. He tries not to groan when he fills you slip out of the spot in his middle while also trying not to think about murdering Paul as soon as he gets out.

Aside from the order, you're unexpectedly quiet, and Pedro quirks an eyebrow at you. He knows you better―you're his wife after all, and if there's something he's aware of, is your inability to loose.

"I'm here" tone clipped and annoyed. But no footsteps backtracking are heard: the Irish man is still there.

You bite your lip, watching the skirt with his legs spread, a sight too tempting. Also, he was still hard, as hard as the task to not go and keep doing your job.

Oh, fuck this shit.

Your devilish hand equals the grin in your face, fingers making their way toward his unattended bulge.

"What are you doing here?" Paul asks, but Pedro's attention has completely deviated, now focused on how they land right over his clothed dick, skirt pulled up by your other hand. "I thought you were at the cafeteria"

"Yeah?" but it comes out strained, yet the younger man doesn't notice or comment.

His hips raise when your fingers press his member, massaging it.

"Yeah" he uses a tone that equals a duh. "You texted me yourself"

Pedro rolls his eyes, wishing desperately he would go away, annoying him just as much as a fly hovering above fresh food. Talking about food, fuck, weren't you hungry? He tried to warn you, holding your wrist, but all resolve was lost the moment you looked in his eyes: he immediately pulled down his briefs, dick sprouting hard.

"Well, changed my mind" his tone falters in between words, member now free from the confines of his tight underwear.

"Are you tired, man? You sound tired" Paul comments on his tone. "Came to rest?"

You spit on your hand, and he gulps.

"Somethin' like that"

You start to jerk him off, leaving little wet kisses and licks just above his dick. Pedro's eyes are hypnotized, glued to every lick of yours across his girth, the spit making your movements smoother. Sexier. Fuck.

"Well, sorry to break it to you but rest time is over. They want us back on set now"

Your tight needy lips are wrapped around his his length and it's so hard to keep the talk normal when he justs wants to yell at Paul to fuck off. Your hand is there too; you are as of help as much as you aren't.

"I'll be there, Paul, just―Fuck!"

But his attempt to cover a moan doesn't go unnoticed.

"Are you alright in there?" he tries to enter, but Pedro locked the door. He's yelling he's fine, but Mescal doesn't sound convinced. "I can't go inside; it's locked. Are you sure you are okay, mate?"

"Didn't want you to take a picture of me drooling on my sleep" he manages to get out in a monotone voice. A real win if you take into account you've gotten to a point where you squeeze under his cock, massaging his balls.

"Smart move!" he chuckles from outside. "I guess I'll see you there"

Pedro covers a moan with his palm as he's throwing his head back in pleasure. He can feel his orgams looming over, minstrations growing sloppier around his pulsating cock, the need to fill your greedy evil mouth with his seed making him sick. He's a simple man: he just wants his pretty wife to fuck his cock silly and come in her mouth in peace. Is that so hard to get this days?

Paul seems to be finally gone as Pedro can't keep containing his grunts anymore, steps moving: until said steps sound closer again.

"Oh, I almost forgot, have you seen Y/n? I can't find her anywhere" it's coming. His orgasm is coming in the absolute worst moment. He can feel you gagging at his hard rock cock, hitting the back of your throat now. Still, your hands don't loose their grip on his cock and skirt, determination filling that sexy little body of yours. It was rather admirable the effort you were putting in this. "Think she went to the beach? She said she loved it. God, that little rebel. Anyway, if you see her, tell her-"

He leans his head back once again, seeing stars. No one knows him like his wife, truly.

The sight of you drooling from your chin, the wet sounds of him fucking himself onto your mouth as your spit-coated fingers pump his girth, you gulping down the precum from his tip, his fingers holding your face roughly by the cheeks...

"Yes, Paul, yes!" Pedro barks, barely hiding the moan that erupts from his ribcage, thick shots of his hot cum hitting your tongue and deep of the throath. "Fuck off and let me get ready"

"Jesus, mate, chill. I'm sorry. See you there"

And Paul Mescal's hovering fly ass is finally gone.

"Poor Paul" you say as soon as you pull off his length, voice raspy as you huff for air. Pedro lovingly cleans rests of your saliva and his cum from your chin as he chuckles at how much audacity, courage and horniness could fit in such a small young body. "You've ruined the friendship"

"You think?" he licks off some as you sit on his lap again, tongue directly on your face. You feel aroused again, but time's up. "It's your fault. That and this"

He points down.

"Just as you used that pretty head of yours to think of the trouble you just made, think of an excuse for Mr. Ridley about the skirt"

at0michips: wait wdym paul is sick??? ㅤㅤl-u-n-a-m: at0michips he's died vnightx: i'm wondering who'll do now the do you even know me interview with pedro now :( i was so excited!!! hope they don't cancel it :( ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: vnightx i bet my grandma it's y/n ㅤㅤat0michips: unhing3dprincess why do u keep betting ur grandma omg 😭😭😭

"You know what I think would be fun?" Pedro comments while you wait for the interview's set to be prepared.

Tour press has finally begun. That meant you could go home for a while after the filming wrapped, just to be back for the promotion of the film. You were excited of course, the experience new and thrilling. After much needed battery recharging and husband/wife time, you were ready to take over the world.

But then Paul got sick.

Today's interview was scheduled to be him and Pedro, but since he was unavailable, they paired him with you, since you both spoke Spanish (which felt slightly racist in your opinion), and because Fred and Joseph were already paired up for the other.

You leave your coffee, knowing he's about to say something stupid or endearing, perhaps both, brown liquid probably spilling out of your mouth. Or worst, nostrils.

"Tell me"

"What if we left little hints that we're together?" his smile is one of mischief. "Like you could wear my cap, or I could wear a chain with your initial around my neck, like Ryan Gosling did at the Barbie premiere"

"Or as Taylor Swift sang" you counter. "But Pedro, dear, you're underestimating our fans. You don't think they'll match it sooner than we think?"

"Maybe" he agrees. That's just what I want. "What's funny is we're about to do a type of interview where we could blow our cover"

"Maybe" you repeat, "or maybe you don't know all about me as much as you think, Mr. Pascal"

He fake gasps, feigning hurt. "Is this a dare, Mrs. Pascal?"

"No" you try to be mature for once, cutting the banter as much as you'd like to go on and kiss him right there. "Also, remember to answer incorrectly sometimes, you know..."

"There's no way I'm letting you win though"

"Pedro, no seas necio!"

The producers arrive just in time to let you know it's ready.

"After M'lady" he's back to being charming as he is, not as husband charming but just Pedro Pascal charming. The nerve of this guy to do it in front of the LADbible crew.

"Whatever" you grumble, the nerves getting the best of you as you realize this interview may or may not give away more than you've been allowed before.

"Hello, I am Y/n L/n" you present yourself. Wow, the camera is really close. This isn't going to end well.

"And I'm Pedro Pascal"

Hearing his voice soothes you. It's okay, y/n, you got this. "And this is Do You Really Know Me- No wait, it's do you even know me. Okay, let's start again: Hello, I'm Y/n and this is-"

"I don't even know anymore" Pedro jokes, making you laugh. "Do you even know me?" he asks while looking forward, now making the crew laugh.

"This is Pedro Pascal, that'll do" you sigh.

"This is gonna be sad, she's not going to know any of these" he says, but in reality, he's mocking you, the mischief in his eyes glowing as he only looks at you tauntingly.

"Same can be said about you" you tease, "we're like a million years away"

"That's not true!" he gasps, "I watch your every move" punctuating each word. God, you try not to make a face. "I have Google alerts on you"

If he was gonna play, so were you.

"Glad to know I have you alerted" with the sweetest voice ever, seeing how his friendly façade falters for a bit at the tone you've used. You laugh, and Pedro takes the chance to laugh it off too.

After the introduction, they ask one of you to keep score, and you offer yourself because, well, you don't trust Pedro.

"I'll go first" you say. "Which was my first ever role in the industry? As an extra during an episode of Stranger Things, as a voice actor in A dog's purpose" you can't help but laugh, "or as a back-up dancer in Hustlers?"

"In Hustlers?" Pedro inquires in disbelief. "You're telling me you were in Hustlers?! I didn't even know you could dance!"

Lies. You and Pedro sometimes put some bachata and dance in the kitchen. God bless Juan Luis Guerra.

"Jennifer Lopez and I are practically besties" you answer nonchalant.

You know the answer. He does too. But he chooses the last one for comedic purposes.

"I'll go with Hustlers. Now that I'm looking at you, you do have a... dancer face"

"It's okay, you can say the forbidden word. I'll take it as a compliment" you laugh, "you're wrong, though. The answer is Stranger Things"

"No way!" and it sounds as if he genuinely didn't know. Good lying son of a bitch; Jim Carrey on Liar, Liar would've been proud.

"Yes. If you look in the background of season two, on this one episode where Nancy and Steve appear to have broken up during a halloween party, you can see me drinking from a cup on a corner"

"That's so crazy"

"Yeah, I was twenty already, yet playing a highschooler" you giggle. "Wow, time flies by. Anyway, we're both at zero. Your turn"

"What film did my dad not let me see at the cinema when I was, uh, ten years old?" Pedro reads from his card. "Rambo: first blood, The Breakfast Club, Day of The Dead"

"I'm going to base this in the year you were born. Okay, so 1975. Let's see" one of the things Pedro loves about you is that you're like a film encyclopedia, but right now, that'll cost him a point. "They all came out the same year, and they were also R rated. Hmmh, I'll choose The Breakfast Club"

Your analysis was just mindless bragging really. You knew the answer the moment he started reading the question, because the anecdote came during a time he heard you listening to the movie's soundtrack ("Did you know that my dad...")

"You complain about Paul all the time, but you're just the same" he comments. "She's a real competitor, people!"

You flush in embarrasment. "Okay, that's one for me. Next question" you read the card in your hands. "What pet do I own? An orange cat named Louis after my favorite singer, a fish, or a Shih Tzu named after my brother"

The orange cat lives with you both. You're curious as to how he'll answer.

"You aren't naming a Shih Tzu frickin' Fernando" he laughs, so loud, it ends up catching up to you and the crew. "I'll go with the cat"

"That's correct" you lament. "How would you know?"

As if the damn cat doesn't love him more than he loves you.

"I follow you on Instagram" he defends himself. Clever. "We are, um, what do you call it-"

"Oomfs"

"I'm not gonna try to pronounce your made up language. Okay, my turn. Which of these characters I've played in Saturday Night Live? Naughty daddy, protective mom, or weird uncle who has a creepy sneeze" he reads out loud in a confused tone.

This is easy. It was all over your timeline.

"Protective mom" you answer on a beat.

"This isn't fair, that was really popular!" he complains.

"It's still two for me and one for you" you mock. "Now, what is the nickname the internet has given me? I won't give you clues because it's an easy one"

"Easy? You said we were million of years apart and now I'm supposed to know?"

"Well, you seem to manage Instagram so I think you'll be just fine" you tease, and Pedro just wants to rip that smirk off of you. So he caves in first.

"It's people's princess"

"What?!" your eyes grow comically large, shimmering with betrayal as you shout with an incredulous tone. "I can't believe you know" more like can't believe you said it.

"You're royalty! How am I supposed to not know that, internet darling? Besides, told you: I keep my eye on you" and he winks.

This motherfucker. Oh, he's totally sleeping on the couch tonight.

"Talk about internet darlings" your snarky tone comes out, and Pedro knows he's pissed his competitive wife off. "I guess we have a tie. Your turn"

"What are the initials of my full name?" his brows furrow. "I forget. JBPP, JPBP, JBPP"

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite. "B, of course"

"But that's too easy, everyone with Google knows it!" but then he's leaning into your ear, whispering in a very low voice to make sure only you hear. "I'll let it pass, though. Love hearing you pronounce my name, mami"

Your face grows obscenely red. "I'm back ahead. Let's see if you can keep up. Okay, here it goes" you read the card, "what is the director I've stated I want to work with? Greta Gerwig, Pedro Almodóvar, or Quentin Tarantino"

"Pedro Almodóvar, no? You said you were jealous I had already worked with him" he playfully nudges you. Too much contact, face hot again. Maybe in group interviews you'll do better, because right now, you're doing a rather poor job at controlling yourself, even as an actor; you can already picture your agent pulling her hair behind the cameras.

"It's Greta Gerwig, actually"

"What?! No way, you told me this!" he grumbles. "This game is rigged"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still jealous. I just think working with Greta Gerwig is peak womanhood, and I gotta live that. So, Greta, if for some reason this silly video gets to you, call me. I promise I'm not that childish"

"She is" Pedro slips in, "don't call her. So unprofessional" in a mocking exaggerated tone.

"Whatever, you sore looser. Me three, you two. Next!"

"Fine. Which of these songs would I have played at my funeral? My Heart Will Go On, Purple Rain, Nothing Compares To You"

He looks at you, silently pleading you to not answer correctly. Your competitive side screams in agony.

"I have no idea. Why do I feel you've already said it somewhere, though? I'll go with Nothing Compares To You, because the first its too corny for you and the second too epic"

He scoffs, amused at the fact that you did obey, but at what cost? Pedro's well aware his princess can get as competitive, if not worse, than Paul.

"You're saying I'm not epic enough for Purple Rain? Too bad, because that's the answer" you grunt, crossing your arms. "That's right, I am cool enough to have it played. I guess we're tied again!"

"No, you don't loose a point. It's still three to two. This just gives you the opportunity to tie"

"W-wait a minute"

"Settle down" you pat his thigh, "you can still try, handsome"

He gulps when your hand meets his skin, despite the layer of clothes. It's still something that gets him on edge, no matter the years you've known each other. And handsome? You came here for blood.

"Okay, here's your chance: what image of me became trending topic on twitter? An image of me eating a typical dish from my country, an image of me watching Deadpool and Wolverine with glasses while Hugh Jackman's shirtless scene reflects on them or C, me meeting Taylor Swift at the backstage of the Eras Tour"

"The typical dish is tempting" he muses out loud, "but I'll go with the Taylor Swift one because that sounds like something that'd trend"

"You're right" you throw your card. "I'm not complaining though. Best day of my life"

"Does this mean I'm winning?" he beams excitedly. "Oh, in your face Paul! I will finally win something!"

"Slow down, cowboy. There's still some left"

He purses his lips. "Let me have this one thing, would you? Guess not. Here it comes" he starts to read his card, "At school I competed in state competitions, in which sport? Soccer, lacrosse, swimming"

"Swimming" you answer hastily, trying not to think on Pedro wearing tight little swimsuits, as you've only seen him wearing swim trunks.

"Okay, that's dissapointing. Please continue"

"I participated in which play while I was in highschool? Hamlet, The Iliad or Much Ado About Nothing"

You doubt he remembers. The only time it ever came up, was when you visited your parent's house and a photography of you during said play was showed to him by your dad.

"The Iliad, right?" you laugh. The answer is wrong: It's Hamlet. "What? I swear it was that one! It's just you have very..." beautiful is at the tip of his tongue but he refrains himself, "...very greek features"

You can't help but laugh.

"Why of course! This is a face people go to war for"

"I agree" your heart skips a beat, "but I don't think I'll make it that far, if we talk about a war"

"You big fat liar!" you slap his arm playfully. "You've played all sort of characters, from soldiers of all nationalities and places, and like, superheroes, f*****g Joel Miller, even a DEA agent. You at least learned something!"

"Wow, slow down, this isn't a filmography recount" he jokes. Liar, you mouth to the cameras. "Okay, last one: I became a viral sensation for eating what type of sandwhich in LADbible's snack wars: BLT, PB&J, grilled cheese"

You remember the video fondly. Even your brother had sent it to you, along a text that said: Isn´t this your husband?

"PB&J, I win!" you cheer, instantly getting off the chair to do a celebratory dance. Pedro doesn't say anything, just throwing the cards away while the fondness of his eyes betrays him.

pyramiidsf: i want someone to look at me the way pedro looks at y/n mybritishstyle: guys they're just friends 😭 he's like that with all his female co-stars ㅤㅤann-gell: mybritishstyle me when i'm delusional af mandoshoney: where's that girl that's always betting her grandma??? SHE WAS RIGHTFLKRGJ

"Hello, I'm Paul Mescal. I'm here with my friends from the cast of Gladiator II" Connie and you both raise your palms to greet the camera, laughing when you realize you'd done it at the same time, "and we are going to play a game about how well we know each other for Vanity Fair" the irish man introduces the interview you're filming today.

"Did they prompt you?" Pedro speaks up, "or did you just make that up on the fly?"

You laugh a bit too loud, hoping they cut it off in the editing process.

Paul goes first, taking up a card with the first question written on it.

"Okay. Question: What's my least favorite day of the week?"

"Tuesday" answers Joseph once Paul is done reading. "Oh, you're writing it down?"

"Yeah" he answers.

"You just wrote Tuesday" Connie points out, Paul's card on his legs. You laugh along the rest.

"Yeah" he repeats laughing. "I actually, when you said Tuesday" Yeah, he said Tuesday Pedro adds on the background of laughter. "I was like...I'm gonna give everybody a point for that"

"I think I deserve a point for being observant" Connie complains.

Everyone gets a point and Paul moves towards the next question.

"What was the name of my character in Normal People?"

"Connell" both you and Joseph answer, looking at each other before squinting your eyes playfully.

"Callum" Pedro answers out loud at the same time, and you laugh. He clearly had slept when you played it for a re-watch last summer.

"No, you're out" Paul pokes Pedro next to him.

"Connel" Joseph repeats, and Fred agrees to the same answer.

Paul then asks Connie what's hers after he confirms you three.

"Connor?" she asks, confused.

"Incorrect. Three points" while pointing you three.

"You got wrong" he tells Pedro, "Callum's a different character"

"See? You just don't pay attention when you watch things" you blurt out, stopping yourself before adding the with me. It would be harder to come back from that, but so is this as everyone looks at you, even your husband, subtle panic in his eyes. Where the cameras this close? How long had you been silent?

"It's just, quick funny story" you improvise. "Pedro didn't know much about Paul's career, and as I am a fan, I took the time to show him and recommend him your stuff" Paul smiles. "Clearly, my fanatism didn't rub on Pedro but a girl can try"

He laughs, before saying "So the answer is Connell" and you try so hard to remain normal like the energy hasn't shifted.

"He only plays characters with the letter C in the name" Pedro jokes, chewing on a toothstick he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. More laughs follow, and you are so grateful for how he's handling your little metida de patada.

"What's number one on my bucket list?" he asks next, "and don't look at my answer"

The marker is the only sound to be heard, and then Pedro jokingly tries to take a peek.

"No peeking" Connie berates as Pedro laughs.

"You're not gonna be able to see that" Paul replies in an anyways tone.

You repeat the same joke, before Fred blocks you. "Not you too!"

Paul finishes after a while, Connie commenting it was long. Joseph raises his hand.

"Yes, Joseph"

"Is it to see the Great Wall of China?" he asks.

"No, but it's in that-"

"It's close, isn't it?" you interrupt.

"...family of thought" he finishes.

"It's to go and see something" Pedro points out.

"Okay. Rajasthan" tries Connie. "Go to Rajasthan, for a tour"

"Travel to South America" Paul interrupts with the correct answer, "I've never been to South America"

"I'm from South America" Pedro comments, never missing a chance to shout out his dear Chile.

Paul jokes about him getting three points while the rest of you laugh.

"I was born in South America. 17 points for Pedro"

"I want points too" you jump on the joke. "I know Spanish, so I can take you there and avoid you getting lost, mi querido amigo"

"But who was born there?" Pedro counters, "you get no points"

"I think Joseph is the only person who gets a point there" Paul adds, "because everybody just jumped on the bandwagon"

"He said to visit the Great Wall of China" Pedro protests, "which is nowhere near South America"

"It really is not" Connie agrees.

"Qué gente tan tramposa" you complain. "That's unfair. I remove my offer"

"Think about bucket list, and he came up with travel to bit" he tries to reason Joseph's point.

"And by the way, where in South America?" Pedro questions.

"Don't fight, don't fight" pleads Joseph, the calm one. Fred just sits there, enjoying the chaos.

"I want, any, I want to do a big tour of everywhere" Mescal defends himself.

Pedro doesn't back down. "'Cause it's very different"

Paul starts to get angry too. Jesus, men. Competitive men of it all.

"I know it's very different" making an annoyed face.

"Well, different is nice" you intervene, a hand placing in Pedro's left shoulder. "If you stop giving points for free, I'll come with you to the big everywhere tour"

"Alright" Paul agrees. "When's my birthday?" is the next question.

"February" all of you say.

Joseph struggles with the date first, saying seventh, then fourth. Fred tries with ninth, Pedro with eight, and then Joseph starts counting from one to two. Fred counts from eleven to twelve.

"Second" Mescal reveals. "Point to Joseph"

"Oh my God, you guys are good" Connie mentions.

"That's all my questions" and it's time to move on the next one: which happens to be your dear husband, Pedro.

"Paul is like" he brings up while the toothpick dances on his teeth, "Paul is motivated to catch up on points. He's coming for you" to pick on his competitive side as Mescal looks deep in thought.

"He's coming. He's coming" Joseph repeats as Fred laughs.

"What is my full name?"

"Oh! Pedro-" Paul tries in a blink. "Something, J? Jose? Juan?"

"Pedro Pascal, something, something" says Joseph.

"Nope"

"No?"

"Pedro Maria, Jose Maria Pascal" Paul struggles.

Pedro is about to answer when your voice cuts through the air.

"It's José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite.

"It indeed is!" he says, smiling a bit too much. "She gets a point"

"Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" your husband repeats in a more english-friendly pronunciation, looking at the camera while toying with his toothpick.

"I said Jose, I said Jose" Paul protests.

Pedro shakes his head. "You said Jose, but then you put it-"

Connie takes Paul's side. "You did say Jose"

"But then you put it behind Pedro which eliminate- which disqualified you" he replies.

Paul gets angry. That sore looser.

"That's absolute bullshit"

"Don't worry mate, the game has just begun" you joke, making the man more irritated. "Think you can get ahead of me?"

"Joseph is still ahead, y/n" Paul counters, still irritated. "Besides, wouldn't it be cheating? You can speak Spanish!"

"So? Not like speaking a language allows you to know every person's name Paul" you mock. He just snorts, despite still being half angry. Pedro is allowed to continue, trying not to make a face at yours and Paul's banter.

"The question is, who is my favorite actor?" he reads. As the cast members laugh, he uncaps the marker with his mouth, and now you have to try not to make a face, thinking about those teeth sinking into your flesh.

Quinn raises his hand. "It's me"

"That you're my favorite actor?"

"Yeah. You said that to me once" the bald man sounds sure of it.

Paul tries to think in the background. So do you. How can you not know this? he must've brought it up at least once.

"Do you remember?" Joseph insists.

Pedro finally remembers. "I said you were- I said I thought you were special"

"Oh" he sounds rather dissapointed.

"And special can mean a lot of things" he jokes, laughing by himself. Fred laughs with you as Joseph makes a face, your laughter turning even louder when you notice Paul all moody, trying to get this point.

"Who's your favorite actor?" Paul asks, "I think we just have to shoot from the hip here guys"

"Marlon Brando?" Connie guesses.

"Is it Harrison Ford?" Fred guesses.

"Let's go with Harrison Ford just because he's my favorite actor..."

You can't believe you didn't know this. You've re-watched and watched so many Star Wars content together. He gives you a brief look, knowing you're embarrased at your lack of answer.

"As a kid?"

"He's most influent, yeah" Pedro agrees.

"What job did I have before I became a full-time actor?" is next.

"Dancer. You were a great dancer" Paul aswers. Both Fred and Joseph repeat it, adding he was specifically a go-go dancer.

"Oh, he is" you add. "Videos of you dancing are lovely. Ever thought of getting back in the bussiness?"

He laughs, what appears to be a light blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Sure, darling. When you ask me to dance, I'll be there"

Nobody comments on this, too busy waiting for Pedro to say yes or no to the answer they believe to be right. But he isn't saying it is. Now you remember why.

"Come on, come on, come on" Paul begs.

"Can any of you guys remember?" Pedro pleads.

They insist that he danced in Spain, then New York, then settle with Spain again, even Pedro confirming so. But it still isn't the answer written on the card, no matter how much the boys insist.

"Connie?" he tries. She just looks confused.

"The answer in the card is-"

"Waiter" you answer. "You were a waiter"

Now you have three points under your belt.

"Why do you always say the answer at last?!" Paul grumbles. "You are cheating!"

"I'm not" you laugh the accusation off. "You just can't accept I'm better"

"Si que lo eres" Pedro agrees. "Es divertido hacer que se enoje Paul"

"What did you say about me? It's not fair, you're probably sharing the answers!" he's still adamant on insisting with the supposed cheating issue, making you laugh.

Now it's Connie's turn, who starts with: "How many languages do I speak?"

You put a puzzled look.

"You speak seven, eight maybe" Joseph guesses. Pauls says she speaks french, "but most likely seven"

Pedro points his finger at him. "Once he gets going, he's on a roll"

"Joe's got it" Connie agrees.

"Paul, end this reign" Pedro jokes. He looks rather frustrated.

"And the bonus points" Connie offers. "Okay, bonus, what are they?"

"This is an emperor's reign" your husband adds.

Joseph answers: Italian. Danish. English. Swedish. French. Spanish. Norwegian.

Connie agrees she speaks Spanish, making you jump in excitement.

"Oh, I didn't know that!" you beam. "Wait, does that mean you did get what Pedro and I gossiped about you?"

"What?" Joseph asks.

"Nada" you quickly correct yourself. "Yo no dije nada"

"Not that much. I just speak a bit of Spanish. I mostly dominate my own language, German and English"

"You blew our cover!" Pedro nags, hitting your bare leg, yet its devoid of anger.

"He needs a bonus" comments Connie, surprised at Joseph.

"This is horrifying" Pedro says when Joseph gets another point and a fricking bonus on top of that. "This is a slaughter"

"Oh, for which film did I have a gym built in my garage?"

Both Joseph and Paul answer the question correctly, saying Wonder Woman. The latter is quick to state they both get that point.

"That's one for me" Paul says, then looks at you. "And none for you"

You stick out your tongue at him as Connie reads the next card.

"If I were to take this cast on a vacation where would I take you?"

"Ibiza" answers Joseph. Connie agrees in Spanish, with a cute and excited correcto.

Your husband feels the need to crack a joke at Quinn's expense.

"Somebody was paying attention to Connie Nielsen very closely during the shooting of this movie"

"Okay. What is my favorite curse word in Danish?"

"Fuck" Pedro tries.

"No"

"Nobody is going to get that, Connie" Paul bickers.

"Oh, I don't know any Danish" you lament.

"At least now you know how it feels" Mescal drops, making you snort. You playfully kick him on the ribs with your shoe.

"It's very simple" Connie gives as a clue. "It's the same word in every language"

"Shit" Paul tries.

"Satan" she reveals.

Everybody is laughing in confusion at that, saying there's no way you could use that.

"Vos Satan!" Connie curses.

Now it's Fred's turn.

"What is my weirdest on-set habit?"

"I haven't noticed you do anything weird on set" Paul tells.

"I have" Pedro interrupts.

They all get on a small briefing about what could it possibly be, that it was weird, and wasn't part of his character, as you ponder. It was funny before, but now Paul is behind you by a point. So think fast.

"Yeah. I would say being yourself" Pedro jokes, but surprisingly, it works.

"Me! Five points for Pedro" he celebrates as you all laugh. "Love Fred. Oh, Fred"

"Oh, oh, okay" he moves to the next question. "What is my favorite reality TV show?"

Joseph tries with Survivor and Paul with Alone. Truth is, you don't watch any show of said kind, only vagely hearing about Love Island.

"You and I have talked about reality TV" Pedro reveals, "It's just that we never identified one"

They keep guessing shows that sound like a foreign language to you.

"You know what's offensive? That I'm the second youngest of this cast and I have no idea what are you all talking about"

"She's not to be trusted" Pascal quips, "can't trust someone who doesn't appreciate the art of reality TV"

You huff, annoyed.

"Is it A&E stuff?" Pedro asks.

"Yeah, it's the competitive cheapskates" Fred answers. "It's people that really save money on everything"

Pedro gets the point because he mentioned the A&E bit.

"There's like this amazing guy that made a stew out of fish bones, and I just thought it was incredible" he shares. Then, moves to the next question. "What is my go-to crafty snack?"

Nobody remembers eating snacks on set, and Fred gives the clue that it's a drink. Joseph says it's a smoothie, and he does remember it but it isn't the answser.

"I'm thinking of something specific. That Emerge-C that you put in the water"

"Oh, that's very good" you agree, so does the rest, even discussing the best colors

"Who in the cast would I ask to bail me out of jail?"

Everyone even Pedro agree its him. Everyone gets a point, yet Joseph remains ahead.

It's Joseph's turn. "What is my favorite sport?"

"Skateboarding" Paul is so quick to answer, earning him two points for both being correct and time.

"What celebrity do I get mistaken for?"

"Daisy Edgar-Jones sometimes" says Mescal. Of course he had to bring her up.

"No, she gets mistaken for me" Joseph jokes. "Yeah, poor Daisy. But I'm writing it down"

"That was the two letters?" Pedro notices. Still, no one gets it.

It's fucking Justin Timberlake. You'd never guess that.

"What is my favorite film franchise?"

You've probaly named all the existing franchises to no avail. You think fo your dad, a huge geek, trying to remember if there is one missing.

"Oh- Lord of the Rings!" you both answer with Paul at the same time.

"C'mon!" his celebration is short lived when he realizes you tied to him.

"What is my favorite British slang word?"

Pedro says it can't be said, but Quinn insists they can, even adding it's his favorite one too.

"We can say bad words? We can say-?" but the camera beeps over it.

The answer is Bellend. What even is that? Joseph feigns sadness and Pedro keeps apologizing, even as you sit on the chair.

"Okay. I'm last"you wiggle your eyebrows with interest. "Let's see. Okay, first question: what did I take from the Gladiator II set?"

"You took something?" Joseph asks on disbelief.

"Why wouldn't I take something?"

"Is it like an item or memorabilia?" asks Connie.

"It's an item" you uncap the marker, scribbling down the answer.

"It's a short word" Fred points out, but still can't provide a guess.

"You took the rings home" Pedro answers. You snap your had on his way, probably obvious. "What? You told me" he says.

Of course Paul complains. "Hey, that isn't fair! He knew the answer before!"

"Well, if you payed more attention to me, you'd know it"

Lies. Pedro knows because it's sitting in the jewelry box inside your house.

"See? I do pay attention" Pedro playfully hits Mescal.

"I could pay you more attention" he looks at you.

"Alright, then do. Ready? Next question: what is my go-to movie? Oh, this is a good one. I'm always changing it, but most of the time I end up choosing the same one"

They all give you a puzzled look as you scribble.

"C'mon, guys! I've said it on interviews before too. Paul?" the man shrugs. "Thought you said you'd pay me more attention. Heads up, you're doing a terrible job so far!"

"Hey!" he protests. "It's not fair if the answer's changing. Give us a clue"

"You didn't give any clues to yours!" you giggle. "Besides, I don't want you to win"

"Hey, that's against the rules!"

"I'd say it depends on the season" Pedro speaks up. You quirk an eyebrow. "Like, if it's changing, I don't think your Christmas go-to movie is the same as your summer one"

"Actually" you smile fondly, "that is true. On summer, it's Mamma Mia. So I suppose, if you can't guess the one, that'll do"

"No" he smiles, cheeky. "I know it too"

"Yeah?" you challenge, "what is it, then?"

"It's Thelma and Louise" he answers, and your heart beats fast.

"How do you know?" Paul inquires. "Somebody was paying attention to Y/n L/n very closely during the shooting of this movie"

Ah, his joke from earlier. Joseph giggles behind him. Karma, he supposes.

"She said it on an interview, guys. C'mon, learn your sources!"

"Okay" you clear your throat. "What movie got me into acting?"

"Thelma and Louise" Joseph tries.

"No" you laugh, "you're just recycling the answer"

"Is it an old or modern movie?" Connie asks.

"Hmh, old" you pause, "just not... I don't know if you'll ever guess it"

"Is it a Pedro Almodóvar film?" you shake your head. "What? You're always mentioning him!"

Pedro looks into your eyes amid the others' discussion, and you can tell he remembers the conversation.

"There isn't one"

You smile, chest pounding at his soft tone.

"That's correct"

"A trick question?!" Paul yells. "I quit"

"When there's just one left?" you tease.

"Yes, because you've been hiding it all the time but no more" he counters, pointing both you and Pedro. You feel the space getting smaller, breaths going from even to noticeable. "You are sharing answers"

You try to make your breath of relief pass as a chuckle.

"I'm not even gonna win, relax. And drop the charges, please. Loose like a man"

"You didn't explain it though" Connie speaks. "What did Pedro mean?"

"While I have many movies that are inspiration to me, they aren't the reason I chose this path. I did it because I saw an Oscar's ceremony when I was 11" you explain fondly, feeling warm at the memories. "I still remember when they handed the award to Diablo Cody for best original screenplay. I don't know, man, it moved me. What it meant for young artists who came from nothing. I guess I wanted, one day, to be the one standing there, for other dreamers to see it's possible"

"Wow, that's beautiful" Connie says.

"Thank you" you get flustered. "Suppose it was worth it, you know, to do interviews about not really knowing my cast mates" and laugh.

"How does Pedro know, though?" Joseph asks.

"We talk a lot" you clear your throat. "Last one: what indie horror movie did I make a small appearence in? I'm feeling generous because it's the last so I'll give you a clue. It's a Stephen King adaptation"

Paul is the first to speak. "You where in a-"

"Yeah but it wasn't such a huge role. Don't make yourself any ideas"

"I have no idea" Connie surrenders. "Other clue, as in how many words?"

"It doesn't even have any words" you laugh. "You give up? It's 1922. Was an extra as well. Made me think Netflix had my name highlighted in the extra call sheet, because I did so many minor and background roles during that year. Grateful, though, because now I get to be Rome's empress and not fortune teller or highschool #6"

The interview ends, and the camera may or may have not captured the last seconds, Pedro's gaze fixated with you the entire time.

elysyannemimi: we all saw that right? GET PEDRO AND Y/N IN A ROMCOM ❗THEIR CHEMISTRY IS INSANE❗ at0michips: love paul and y/n so much 😭😭 gimme enemies to lovers RN ㅤㅤbobgirllll: at0michips wait what if paul and y/n are secretly dating 😳 ㅤㅤann-gell: bobgirllll quick question are u dumb unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they're married. it has to be. trust me ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess BESTIE U ARE BACK

You arrived in London today. The premiere will be in a few days, and things have been, well, hectic.

Lux couldn't stop talking all the plane ride, but your mind kept going back at the email your manager had sent you before you had boarded the plane.

It's catching upon you, read the haunting message. Attached below, a TMZ article that claimed a regular church attendee had seen you both getting married. It also used a lot of the noise fans had been making on social media, connecting dots or just hyping up the undeniable chemistry. It ended with a little paragraph saying it was obvios, and they're just hoping you'd confirmed it.

You came to realize you didn't care about it anymore. Sure, the pushing around annoyed you, but the thought of still keeping your marriage under wraps feels pointless now. Why wouldn't you shout to the world how in love with your husband you are?

Yet, when you arrive at the hotel, you keep the same protocol of arriving after Pedro, who has already checked in with two keys, claiming its for him and his sister, while you ask for the key to Lux's actual room. After you swipe cards with her, you head over the room you'd be sharing with your husband.

His face appears in your frame, everything happening quickly.

"Get inside. Now"

Your body is dragged inside the hotel room, not even giving you time to swipe the key for yourself.

"Pedro!" you exclaim, between surprised and confused. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Did you read it?"

"What? The article?" your tone is filled with annoyance. "Yes, I did. Why?"

"What do you mean why?" he snaps, voice raising higher. "Don't play dumb with me. You know fans have fuelled the rumors, and tabloids have started digging every corner in fucking California"

"So, what? You're acting as if people finding out is the worst thing in the world" you roll your eyes.

"It is, yes!" Pedro bursts out, caving in to the stress.

It feels like you've been hit across your face.

"Excuse me?" you seethe, hurt etched all across your features. "Would it be the worst thing in the world to admit you're married to the person you supposedly love the most?"

"I love you, y/n. It's just-"

His voice softens, trying to reach for you, yet you pull back, his hand falling to his side in an akward manner. He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"I love you" he repeats, sounding much more sure this time.

Your frame seems smaller as your voice comes out hoarse, filled with emotion, appearing to be in the brink of tears:

"Then why do you act like you're embarrassed of me?"

He hates himself for making you feel this way, making you think things that aren't true.

"I don't. Never" he emphasizes. Then, tries to reach once again when you move a little bit closer to him, recognizing that's your way of letting him know you're ready. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me, don't ever think the opposite" then he sighs, heavy. "I'm just scared"

You silently ask him to explain, rubbing his thumb soothingly across his tattoo.

"You're so young, and I'm, well- I know we're aware of it, but people are cruel and the press is ruthless. I don't want to see your name dragged across the mud because you decided to marry me. Your career is starting, and I'd never forgive myself is something happened to you because of me. Not trying to make this about me, yeah? But this industry is fucked up. You've work hard to get to where you are, and it'll be unfair if you'd loose it. I'm scared because us..." he wavers, words trailing off. "I want us to be. I wouldn't want to live in a world without you, i-it would kill me not to have you be my wife"

You desperately want to kiss off the worry on his face, but let him finish.

"N-not saying our love is weak, or anything! That a couple of opinions or tabloids will- you know? Just, I-I don't want them to break us apart. Mi vida, you're the light of my life. Please, forgive me, I-"

He feels his throat closing up, words failing to come out. You sense the grip on your hand to be stronger, immediately letting loose of it.

"Hey. C'mere" your voice is tender, allowing him to bury his face in your stomach as you comb his messy curls with your fingers. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere"

He lets himself melt under your touch, his mind loosing itself in the soft of your digits and your perfume up his nostrils. He's again breathing normaly, hands now hugging your waist.

"There you go. Better?" Pedro nods, still not being able to talk. "That's okay, take all the time you need. We have all day"

"Do we?" he raises his view, his eyes soft yet there is something else to the brown shade.

You hum as to nod. "We agreed to join Lux for dinner. It's barely 1pm"

"Tell me you're thinking it too" his voice cuts throughout the air, boucing off the tapestry on the walls.

You laugh, nervously. "I don't think I do"

"Hmmh, I see" he stands up, towering over you. "You sure you don't?"

"You sure you want this?"

Before you know it, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, cutting off all words to be said. What a waste of air, anyway. You are quick to reciprocate, whimpering against his lips.

Pedro picks you up like you're as light as a feather, his arms flexing as he carries you and places you on the bed, frame hovering over yours. He breaks the kiss to breath, but you're pulling him back in, his hold on your hips tighter and the wet spot in your panties wetter.

"Look at you, pretty baby. So needy" he whispers against your face, hot breath lingering above your lips. "And mine. Mía. Only mine"

"I am, yes. Yours only. Need you so bad right now, papi" you answer in a rush. "Now shut up and fuck me"

"Con gusto" he chuckles darkly, "gotta keep the wife happy"

"Happy wife, happy life" you recite, stripping him off of his plain shirt, revealing his toned torso, bulging biceps defined by the movements. You gulp. "Fuck, papi. Gotta thank Marvel for this. I love all of your versions, but I can work with this too" you dreamily stare at him, your hands cupping his face.

He strips the rest of his clothing, but a cute blush adorns his cheeks.

"Yeah, well, it's Scott's fault too"

Your impatient fingers reach the middle of your panties to rub your clothed pussy, letting out a sound that darkens his hazel orbs.

"Fuck that guy" you mutter. Pedro laughs.

"Thought you said you loved the guy"

"Until I learned what he said about your body" you groan, still rubbing. "Connie told me"

His hands now travel to remove your clothes, almost ripping them off.

"Who cares? I just want to fuck you now" he breathes out, practically drooling at the sight of your damp panties. "Lemme take this off too"

He unhooks your bra, seeing the hard nipples. The urge to lick them is so bad, but his desire to fill you silly to the brim is stronger.

You see his hesitation, which is why you grab him by the neck to pull him in for a kiss. He kisses back fiercely, labored breaths as he struggles to focus on your lips, his wet mouth darting to your jaw, neck and collarbones. His hands roam all over your body, needy.

"Gotta be inside of you, mami. Can't wait any longer"

"Then stop waiting" you plead, tugging at his boxers with urgency.

Seeing you so cockhungry, lips parted and pupils blown wide makes his hard dick twitch with anticipation.

He mutters a labored fuck, aligning himself to enter your sticky folds. Pedro enters your tight pussy with a low groan, burying himself deep inside of you, used to his length by now. You're basically begging for it, nails digging and eyes supplicating.

He can't deny you anything, can he?

A messy whine leaves your widened mouth as you adjust, pleasure mixed with pain.

"Mhmm" you moan.

"Mhmm what?" he mocks. "You asked for it. Now take it, cariño"

He thrusts deeper into you, watching in awe how his dick enters your pussy; it was always perfectly, your pussy made for him.

"You're drippin' baby" his rough voice caresses your cheek. He kisses the are, giving a lick to the sweat starting to form. "S'fucking tight too"

You move your hips towards him, trying to augment the friction. The overstimulation starts to cloud your sense, reducing you to a whiny mess as you grip his steady arms.

"I can't think of anything but you, baby" he confesses between grunts, "filling up your pussy to the brim, you dripping with my seed for days"

You moan at the filthy words.

"Love how you take my dick, amor" stretching you as Pedro moves in and out. "S'made for me"

"Yes" you moan, skin slapping sounds bouncing off the walls. "Fuck, I love your dick..."

His pace picks up, and it comes to a point where he's just fucking you silly, his grip on your hips surely to leave a bruise as you keep spilling obscene sounds of pleasure from your lips.

"Your pussy's mine, yeah? No one else gets to have you like this"

"N-no, just you, Pedro. My h-husband" you manage to squeeze, more moans vocalizing the pleasure you felt with each thrust, his big dick inside of you moving in a a steady rhythm, making your eyes roll back further and orgasm closer.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, and he finds impossible to resist the urge anymore, licking the sensible skin and hard nipples, your hands moving to his back, scratching him harshly, both chasing your release.

"Please!" you whine out loud, not caring how desperate you sound.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

But your husband knows you, so he indeed starts to fuck you harder, heavy breaths and slippy kiss noises hanging in the spaces between each thrusts. He pants with every motion of his dick, a knot forming on his belly.

"Shit, baby. I think I'm gonna cum. Gonna come so hard"

"Do it. I'm on birth control, remember?" you groan, feeling your high approach as well. "Fill me up, please. Give me all your cum"

Your bodies move as one, precise thrusts hitting exactly that sweet spot of yours repeatedly, chasing your orgasm. For a brief moment, your eyes lock with his and then he's saying:

"I love you, y/n. So much"

Your heart skips a bit, his dick twitching inside as his gaze glimmers with adoration and possesiveness, teeth grazing your skin with marks for him to call you his.

"I love you too, Pedro. More than you know"

A final thrust is delivered. Fuck, feels so good you think you hear him say. Just like promised, he fills you with his release, shots of his thick, warm cum inside your sticky walls. You follow soon, back arching, toes curling, and both head and eyes rolling back. Pedro falls on top of you, his broad body collapsing over yours, as you both pant hard, trying to steady your pulse and breath. He then removes himself and positions you to be the one on top now, lazily throwing the covers over your bare bodies. We need to shower, you said, but he argued you'd do it later before going out.

"I needed that" and you happily hum in agreement at your husband's dragged out words.

Your head falls and rises, with the movement of his chest, silence settling on the previously filled with sex noises room. That until he speaks up:

"One day, I'm gonna fill you up so good until you have my babies, mami" he murmurs, just then realizing what he said. But you snuggle closer, hand and legs drapped over his bare body. You look at him closely, seeing nothing but certainty on his eyes.

I choose you. I'll always choose you.

"Whatever it is with you" your nose brushes his, a small sweet kiss on his lips, "I want"

His eyes shine, probably with tears or the glow of affection.

"Let's do it"

"What?" you look into his eyes for any sign of doubt, bull all you see is love. "Pedro, are you serious?"

He nods. "Wouldn't you want that?"

You feel the corner of your lips pull up.

"Never have I wanted anything more"

poppysplayground: Y/N AND PEDRO RED CARPET DEBUT AT THE LONDON PREMIER OF GLADIATOR II WTF I JUST WOKE UP ptwt is in SHAMBLES mostannoyingbillioner: UM HELLO pedro showing up with two hot women on his arms LUX GIMME A CHANCE pompeiianbollockr: WAIT WDYM THEY ARE MARRIED?!??! ALL THIS TIME?@?#? HOW???! NEED BIGGER CAPS TO SCREAM I'M GOING INSANE at0michips: that article better come out now or i'll burn the TMZ building ann-gell: not me thirsting for a married man 😭😭😭 how they kept this a secret for so long?? we should've noticed ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: ann-gell i did. knew betting my grandma was the way all along ㅤㅤpyramiidsf: i'm gonna start betting my grandma too

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @trashcora

#dilfistwrites #gladiator II #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #taylor swift #reputation #call it what you want #paul mescal #call it what you want series

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starstruckbich · 2 months ago

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needy Vi ⋆｡°✩

summary: you and Vi are married, and lately she's been oddly whiny and all over you...

tags: 18+ mdni, men dni. nsfw! dom!reader, down bad sub!vi, scar mentions, hard fingering, eating pussy ˗★˗

wc: 3.8k

notes: hii first time writing so sorry if this is a little sloppy lmao, this is smut with no plot and english isn't my first language so i might get some terms wrong. anyways hope you guys enjoy!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You loved Vi with all your heart.

Ever since the war been between Zaun and Piltover came to an end, you two have been living peacefully. You both had scars on your body, reminders of what you both had been through.

Lately she's been a lot clingier. Asking you for a kiss before bed, hugging your waist from behind while you're cooking and staying glued to you for ungodly amounts of time, insisting on showering together with you, nuzzling her face agaisnt your thighs and kissing them while she looks at you with those needy puppy eyes. That's her favorite.

Eventually you figured out why. During the night, you were often woken up by whimpers and needy whines, looking over at your wife to see her mumbling in her sleep, sounding like she's getting fucked out of her mind, whining your name...

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"vi, i'm trying to read." you say, tucking your hair behind your ear to look down at your wife, who's once again laying her head down on your lap and kissing your thighs.

"hmm..." she hums in a needy voice agaisnt them, wanting to bury her face between and never pull away.

"again?..." you can't help but raise an eyebrow, your wife letting out a whine, grabbing your legs tightly. of course, you love Vi and want to be close to her, but it's gotten to the point where she doesn't have her hands off of you for atleast five seconds.

For the next 30 minutes you continue trying to read, trying to change positions to lay comfortably in your king-sized bed. However, as needy as she is, Vi keeps clamming onto you, making you a sweaty mess.

Your final straw is when she huffs agaisnt your ear, trying to envelop all of your body in her arms blabbering about whatever, crushing your book's pages in the process, at the most interesting part of the plot.

"f-fuck baby, please! mh!" vi whines, head layed back on the pillows, gripping the sheets so hard they could rip.

you plunge your tongue deeper inside her, over and over again, holding her strong thighs far apart and kissing, sucking, doing whatever you can to torture that needy, wet, puffy pussy of hers.

her wetness drips down your chin slowly, making you hum in satisfaction. you decide to take some pity for her, giving some attention to her sensitive clit.

"a-ah! FUCK!" she yells, bucking her hips to feel your tongue sucking on her pussy again.

"hold still." you mumble agaisnt her pussy with a frown, holding her hips down as you continue eating her out, giving the pleasure she so desperately needs.

"please baby i'm gonna cum, c-can i come? please please please please... mmh~!" she tries to rub your her hips roughly agaisnt your tongue again, to no avail.

Unfortunately for her and her glistening pussy, you pull away, resting your face on her muscular thigh, an innocent, faint smile on your face despite what you've been doing to her. "aw baby, already?" you can't help but grin as she whines in frustration, her voice already hoarse.

you press two fingers agaisnt her pussy, mking her let out a whimpery moan, slightly entering her but then pulling out your index and middle finger again. "aw your pussy's so wet... so fucking wet baby, your mess is all over the sheets, fuck..."

"please baby, put them in... i need you..." she looks down, lolling her head to the side after.

"hm yeah? you need these fingers inside your pussy? want me to make you feel good? like those fucking wet dreams you've been having about me?"

Vi's eyes widen at your words, looking into your eyes in embarassment. "what? h-how'd you-"

Before she can finish her sentence you plunge your two digits deep inside her, ripping out a loud moan from your pretty wife. You groan in satisfaction at the sight, biting your bottom lip, pumping your fingers again and again, her juices flying everywhere as she rolls her eyes to the back of her head.

"of fuck, look at that! if i didn't know any better i'd say we're at the goddamn brothel." you tease, letting out hearty chuckles. "how about a third one hm? you're wet enough already" you, plunging your ring finger into her aswell.

"A-AH! Fuck, don't stop don't stop! yes baby! gonna come! m' gonna come!" Vi yells, squirming as your fingers are punishing her, more needy for you than ever.

A few more thrusts and she finishes on your three fingers, letting out a loud, whiny moan as she comes. You of course take the chance to suck up all of her fluids, not stopping as your tongue works between her thighs again, making her body convulse in sensitivity and pleasure.

"mm so good, you're so good for me baby..." you mumble agaisnt her, making her come again from those words alone as your eyes widen.

"damn, that bad huh?

"shut up..."

#vi #arcane #vi arcane #vi smut #wlw #wlw post #sub!vi #fem!reader #first post #im so crazy about her

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bbokicidal · 24 days ago

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SKZ + Oral Fixations/Habits

The boys have some.. filthy habits that have to do with their mouths.

Genre: Suggestive (18+ MDNI) Pairing: OT8 (Individually) x Afab!Reader Warnings: Sexual/Suggestive Behavior, Perv?SKZ I guess, spit related kinks, tongue, eating out mentions, etc. Notes: Take this as a small apology for my brief absence while I was sick. (I still am...)

Chris:

Chris honestly doesn't have a whole lot of bad habits that have to do with his mouth - but he does have a need to constant keep his hands moving which means he picks at his lips. He doesn't peel the skin or damage them at all, lest the company chew his ass out, but it does make you constant look at them. Then again, they're so plush and warm and they taste like mint all of the fucking time - every time you look at them you can't help but remember what they felt like against your skin the night prior when he was sucking hickies onto your chest and moaning out how good you taste when he was between your legs. Brief, pleasant flashbacks that rile you up - all because he touches his lips.

Lino:

Minho doesn't have too many bad habits - other than the fact that he likes to always be sucking on something or chewing gum. When he's chewing gum, it's usually during rehearsal because he'd choke on a hard candy doing all that dancing - So you'll be sitting on the couch filming or watching and your boyfriend is in loose grey sweats, a black tee, and he's pushing his hair back damp with sweat while he chews his stupid little Red Hot gum - and you can't help the way your eyes drift to watch the way his jaw moves so fluidly every time it opens and closes briefly. You've seen it move that smooth before - but that was when he was eating you out and his tongue was fucking into you before he moved to instead suck on your clit and you'd caught a quick glimpse of him from the side in your closet mirror.

Changbin:

Man likes to eat - everything. The way he brings the chopsticks to his lips and the way his arm flexes just briefly every time he does so makes your thighs snap shut where you sit beside him. It reminds you of the way he likes to wrap his arms underneath your thighs when he eats you out - and he always does so, so lazily. Never a bad thing, he just likes to take his time when he's going down on you. And he wouldn't have to wrap his arms around your thighs if you weren't so wriggly with him when he was between your legs. Though, he truly doesn't know just how much you like feeling his muscles tightening around your hips and thighs - and you don't know how much he loves feeling the plush of your thighs trapped in his arms.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin likes to be expressive - even when he's not trying, he's making faces at everything around him. So when something mildly annoys him or catches his attention in a less-than-pleasant way, the tip of his tongue prods the corner of his mouth while his lips are parted. It's a habit he's had for a long time, something he does right before he laughs when someone is teasing him. A way to show he's mildly irritated but laughing it off. He does it with you, too, and that's how your arguments and disagreements dissipate so quickly; You'll be bickering, you say something that irks him and the second he pushes his tongue against his lips, you fold. He watches the way you slump and melt at the sight and his expression of disapproval turns into a smirk. He knows the way you like his tongue - He knows you melt every time he sucks on your chest as he ruts into you like he's desperate to come all over your gummy walls (He is.) And he'll use that little trick to his advantage every time y'all argue.

Han:

Jisung likes suckers - point blank period. He likes suckers, he likes the taste, he likes the feeling of something in his mouth, he likes twirling the stick between his fingers - and you love the little color ring that stains his lips because it just makes him look oh-so-cute. He's oblivious to the fact that you adore it so much and how cute you think it is; He just really likes sweets and candy is a part of that. There's nothing sexual about it - Jisung just... likes suckers, and you think it's cute that he's kind of messy while eating them. His fingers always get sticky, somehow. (Though.. he does really like the taste of you when the taste of the sucker itself still lingers on his tongue...)

Felix:

Man is NASTY. Nasty, filthy, whore of a man. He's the type of boyfriend who, when comfortable enough, will turn to look at you in the middle of practice and - before anyone can catch him - flicks his tongue out between his index and middle fingers just to make you squirm and giggle. Definitely kinky - definitely likes to suck on his fingers after eating and does it loud just so you hear it - and he does the exact same thing to his fingers after he gets done making you orgasm all over his hand. He'll even lick his rings clean because he knows you like when he keeps them on during sex. Also, he looooves the taste of you - so he's going to be fingering you a lot; Under the table at dinner, cuddling in bed together, even while he games! Honestly, don't sit too close to him or it will end up happening.

Seungmin:

Seungmin gets annoyed relatively easily, and when he does his tongue pushes at the inside of his cheek. It's from annoyance, anger building up, and you know that - but when you express to him that you find it kind of hot he starts to use it in other ways. He does it when you tease him because, yes it annoys him a tiny bit, but he also knows it turns you on. And, he quits sending you texts asking you for BJs. Instead, he'll turn to you and silently push his tongue against his cheek a few times as the gesture - and when you nod he'll get all smiley because he knows he's getting head that night.

I.N:

Jeongin likes to be messy. He sticks his tongue out all the time anyway, he doesn't really need anything in his mouth - including his own spit apparently with how much it ends up on you. He's always leaving wet kisses over you during foreplay, always leaving your nipples slick with his spit because of how much he abuses them with his tongue. And if Jeongin is being a little more mean that night during sex, he'll drag your hips up closer to his face with his arms wrapped under your thighs and stick his tongue out until his spit drips onto your clit. It makes you flinch and whine and beg him to just eat you out already - but he can't help it. He just loves seeing the way it slides between your folds and mixes with your glistening slick. He loves when you're that wet for him. <3

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix

#skz x reader #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #felix x reader #changbin x reader #seungmin x reader #hyunjin x reader #lino x reader #han x reader #jeongin x reader #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios

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cloudwisp · 9 months ago

Text

✮ sylus x wife!reader (2)

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. arranged marriage au. sylus as your sweet and doting husband who's simply in love with you and anything that you do. 1.5k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ thank you for everyone's patience who requested a part two!! I truly hope this meets your expectations <3

part one here. ꒱

⭒ You’re an early bird married to a night owl. After gradually moving your belongings into Sylus’ master bedroom, your different sleeping schedules were made acutely aware. His day is just beginning when you’re heading to bed and he’s more or less mentally retired after a long night of business dealings and meetings when your body decidedly rises with the first rays of light at dawn. Because of this, you both compromise to meet somewhere in the middle—Sylus sweetly tucks you in later than your usual bedtime and leaves only when you’d fallen asleep, and you snuggle with him in the mornings until the very last minute and you’re forced to get ready for the working day. However, his sleeping patterns are more on the irregular side and he’ll check in on you when he’s supposed to be resting.

⭒ When Luke and Kieran witness you and Sylus bid each other with a goodbye kiss—an affectionate and wholesome display between lovers as your husband sees you off to work at the front door, they are stunned and lose it from the sidelines at the budding romance. “Wait, what just happened?” “Was there a development while we were gone?” The crow twins would share glances and decipher the scene before them together. They both have been rooting for you and their boss since day one, and they marvel at the way you both are completely smitten with each other. As though you two are like newlyweds who can't get enough of your shared love, unwilling to separate just yet even as you slowly step away from Sylus.

⭒ His touch linger with purpose to hold onto every last part of you and his hands move from your waist and slide down your arms to hold your hands until his fingers curl slightly and mourn the loss of your warmth when he eventually has to let you go. When Sylus watches your figure disappear and return back inside his home he receives a thumbs up and pending double high fives respectively from his two henchmen. He walks past them and ignores their antics by giving them orders, but Luke doesn’t leave his brother hanging and celebrates that their boss is officially and undeniably in love.

⭒ Anniversaries were an unexpected thing to celebrate with Sylus—along with holidays and birthdays. You were caught by surprise when you received a gorgeous dress and pearls inside a pretty wrapped box adorned with ribbons after being married to Sylus for three months. You weren’t quite romantically involved with him at that point and went along with what he planned for the evening, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just a performance for the public at an upscale restaurant but he genuinely wanted to make this night special for you. Then something in the air shifted and became sweeter and you suppose you wanted to start making the smaller things in life count. Even if there wasn’t a particular milestone coming up, you decide to make one up yourself. After all, there’s a true saying that the secret to marriage is keeping it fresh and interesting.

⭒ With the help of the cute twins, they set up a cozy tent in the verdant space of the garden meanwhile you decorate fairy lights all around in swooping arcs and tight lines, arrange pillows and blankets inside, and place a deck of kitty cards in the center. After everything is where you need it to be, you show the boys your gratitude and send them away as you work on the finishing touches. You gather the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and two glasses for the red wine when suddenly your husband sneaks up from behind you and wrap himself around you, inquiring about how the twins wanted him to come find you… Oh those cheeky little things. Well, never mind them. “Don’t tell me that you forgot what today is. Happy 300 days since our first kiss, baby.” You admit that it may come off as a little silly and no one’s truly keeping count, but you simply wanted to do something nice for him.

⭒ Sylus never passes up an opportunity to take care of his darling wife. Even if that means going along with your unusual ideas like you suggesting to borrow his dress shoes after the auction show was over. He throws you a puzzled look followed by a bemuse chuckle, and he supposes he could oblige if that’s what you really wanted. You explain to him that being well dressed from head to toe to match his outfit came at the price of your painfully, aching feet. And he can’t resist giving into your demands when you ask with such adorable little pouts. There are more practical methods to go about the situation, but he certainly loves humoring you even if things don't work out the way you thought they would.

⭒ Sylus leads you to a nearby bench and gestures for you to have a seat while he removes his shoes and bends down on one knee before you, unworried about dirtying his expensive trousers. He works diligently to undo the straps around your ankles and place your heels aside to focus on slipping his shoes onto your feet. “Well, you look quite fetching in my shoes. Now shall we continue our walk or do you have any more requests to make?” He helps you straighten yourself as he returns to his normal height. You huff and make a discontent noise when you almost trip over your own two feet trying to take a step forward in your (his) much too large and too spacious shoes. “Actually, these won’t do. I changed my mind, I want my heels back.”

⭒ Sylus chuckles at your hopeless attempt, his hand going on your hip to keep you from toppling over and accidentally hurting yourself. “Ah, it appears my shoes are too big for you, kitten. You say you want your heels back, hm?” He kneels before you once more as he retrieves your pair of heels, his fingers brushing along the underside of your leg and he carefully tugs them back on your feet. He gives your ankle a gentle squeeze as he finishes securing the straps, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. "There, I hope you're satisfied now, my sweet wife." His arm then goes around your waist and he effortlessly lifts you off the ground without so much as a warning. He smirks at your precious reaction, your body flushed against his meanwhile your arms encircle his neck for balance. “Why don’t I just carry you the rest of the way instead?”

⭒ You’re snuggled up against Sylus’ chest as you bring a concern to his attention one night. “What happens when our arrangement comes to an end?” The main reason you agreed to marry him in the first place is because it was a contract marriage with a specific time frame of five years that you’d have to spend with him. And you realize that with everything he does, he’s always been considerate of you as a whole even with how he drafted this contract knowing that it could end at his own expense. He provided you with a means of freeing yourself from him if you for whatever reason wished to no longer continue your marriage with him after the term ends. The choice is left entirely up to you because he never wanted you to feel trapped but he won’t make it easy for you. “If I decided to leave, you’d really let me go?”

⭒ Sylus hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to be thinking about something as his expression grows serious. “You always know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you sweetie?” After a moment, he lets out a small sigh and nods. “…Yes. Technically, you’ll be free to go. I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave.” Another sigh escapes him, yet his voice remains soft and sincere and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his palm cradles your cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. What do you want to happen when the contract ends, darling?”

⭒ You mull over your thoughts, teasing him with a pensive look as you purposely drag on the seconds. “Since you’re leaving it up to me, I think… I want to renew our vows at the five-year mark. How’s that sound?” A surprise and slight disbelief flit across his face at the same moment his countenance softens at your affirmation. “You want to renew our vows?” You offer him a demure nod with your sweet smile and he gently takes your hand in his, bringing it to his face and laying a kiss against your knuckles. “Then it’s settled. I would be honored to renew our vows when the time comes. There will be no more contracts or strings attached. We’ll be bound by our love and our love only.”

#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #l&ds x reader #sylus love and deepspace #sylus lnd #sylus l&ds #sylus lads #lnds sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace

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loveletterlore · 2 months ago

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a sweater affair ♡ b.b. x reader

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky and reader are in a secret relationship, but can't stop wearing each others clothes...

warnings: details of injury and wound getting stitched up, keeping secrets, nothing too serious, some kisses

word count: 3.3k

author's note: fluffy Bucky is my favourite thing in the world, I just want him to cuddle me until I fall asleep. also, this is definitely not the most intellectual fic ever, it's just some toothrotting, daily life fluff so enjoy (---- indicates time skip, ////// indicates new day)

Your leg bounced up and down, anxiety manifesting in your body in familiar ways. You were awaiting the return of the mission crew, having heard that the mission had been extra brutal. As one of the doctors in the Avengers compound, it was your role to assess the agent's conditions, organising different levels of care for those who needed it.

Eyes focused on the horizon, you spotted the quinjet approaching as a buzz sounded over your walkie-talkie.

“We’re about 60 seconds out from base, got a couple here who need urgent med attention.”

“Ready and waiting,” you responded, trying to hide the wobble in your voice.

The quinjet came in to land, gusts of air messing your hair and causing you to squint your eyes. The door opened, agents limping out towards you. You directed the first set inside, nurses taking notes as they went.

You turned towards the quinjet, your walk progressing into a jog due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your feet moved up the ramp, narrowly dodging the pilot as they left the craft. Once inside, you turned to the right, scanning the cockpit to no avail. A wave of nerves washed over you and your heart dropped as you turned on your heel.

Looking up, your eyes met his and relief washed over you, your stomach turning with nausea. He was okay, thank god. His eyes crinkled slightly, the height of expression for this man. As the rest of the team exited the quinjet, he paused slightly in front of you.

“Doc,” his voice was low, barely speaking above a whisper.

“Bucky,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as his familiar scent hit your nostrils.

The temptation to reach out and take his hand in yours was strong. You ran your eyes over his body, trying to identify any injuries on his body.

“I’m fine,” Bucky could sense the anxiety coursing through your veins. “Just a bit bruised. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you give me a full check up later.”

You glanced up at his face, which he had leaned closer to you, “Give me an hour to check these guys out.”

A small nod was his response as he straightened, stretching his neck and leaving the quinjet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You pushed open the door to your room, the familiar scent immediately wafting into your face. You knew he was there without even needing to see him, this had become routine over these past weeks. Steam snuck out of the bathroom through the cracks around the door and you could smell his body wash. Dropping your jacket on a chair, you began to tidy up around the room.

Pulling open the drawer, you placed the stray socks you had gathered from around the room and paused, reaching for one of Bucky’s sweaters. You lifted it to your face, inhaling the scent before pulling it on over your shirt.

The bathroom door opened, revealing Bucky with a towel draped around his waist, still dripping from the shower. He rubbed at his hair with a smaller towel, a smirk growing on his face as he saw you, dressed in his clothes. Leaning against the doorframe, he observed the image for a few moments, considering how he had gotten to this point in his life.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned to face him, a gentle smile on your lips, “Hey, how ya holdin’ up?”

“All good, doll,” his voice was music to your ears, like your favourite song on repeat. “Although I could do with some help with this…”

Turning, he presented a large gash in his side, the wound raw and bloody.

“James, for goodness sake-” you rolled your eyes, brushing past him into the bathroom to grab your med kit. “Go sit down.”

He chuckled at your response, having known exactly what you would say. Grimacing at the movement, he sat down and leaned in a way that would allow you access to his injury. You kneeled on the floor next to him, pulling gloves on and lightly pressing at the wound, watching for any signs of pain - thanks to the serum, he seemed pretty unphased by the whole situation.

Bucky watched each movement you made as you fixed him up, studying your face as though he was trying to memorise your features. A blush crept through your skin, the sight making you even more beautiful to the man with you. His hand brushed your cheek, drawing your eyes up to meet his gaze.

“Hi,” he mumbled, eyes half closed. In all the time you had known Bucky, he had never been this at ease, this comfortable, this calm. The effect was particularly evident when it was just the two of you, alone and safe behind closed doors. You doubted anyone would believe you if you told them that James Buchanan Barnes, the tortured ex-assassin with a brutal backstory, had fallen asleep with his head in your lap, you stroking slow, gentle circles on his scalp. It was actually his favourite position, he had often told you, usually as he balanced the line between asleep and awake.

And here you were, patching him up in your room as his thumb stroked along your bottom lip.

“Hi,” you whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. “Nearly done.”

He let his head fall back, strangely enjoying the gentle touches of you stitching him up. As you wiped the wound, applying a small dressing, you pressed a kiss to his side and stood up. You threw the med kit onto the other side of the bed as Bucky’s hands lifted to rest on your hips, pulling you between his spread legs. His head dropped to rest on your chest as your arms circled him, a comfortable quiet settling over the room.

“Any other secret injuries?” you kept your voice low, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“Well, there is this one, maybe you can kiss it better?” he looked up at you with those blue eyes, glinting in the light.

You let out a sigh, playing up to the trick you knew he was about to pull, “Oh dear, where is it?”

“Right here,” he pointed to his forehead, pouting his bottom lip out.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering a moment, enjoying the closeness.

“Oh, and here,” his finger moved to his cheek.

Obliging, you shifted to nuzzle into his cheek, dotting a kiss on his cheekbone.

“And one last one,” he pointed to his lips, the bottom one still jutting out in a mock-pout.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you placed a finger under his chin, tilting it upwards. Leaning forward slowly, you pressed your lips against his, a sigh of relief leaving your body. His hand returned to your hip, squeezing comfortingly. Your hands rested on his shoulders, his build keeping you steady on your feet.

After a moment you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“How was it?” you asked, your eyes half-closed.

Bucky knew you were talking about the mission. He leaned back in the bed, pulling your hips with him so that you were laying across him. Reaching an arm behind you, he curled it to allow his fingers to play in your hair while the other hand rested on your thigh.

“‘S fine, nothing too special,” he murmured, eyes closed from the comfort of your presence. “You should have seen the other guys.”

A small chuckle escaped your lips as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the usual smell of him. The two of you lay there, pleasantly cozy in each other's company, even without words. Feeling yourself begin to drift, you snuck your hand up to cup his face, pulling his lips to yours for another gentle kiss.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beep… beep… beep…

Electric buzzing pulled you from the warm, serene clouds of sleep. Rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand, your vision cleared and revealed the face centimeters from yours. A sleepy smile grew on your face at the sight, warmth flooding your body. Gently unravelling your limbs from his, you cringed as he shifted in his sleep, evidently missing your presence.

Sneaking from the room, you closed the door quietly behind you, finally letting out a breath.

“Hey Doc!” Steve appeared from around the corner, clapping you on the shoulder. You jumped at the volume, your senses still awakening after your impromptu nap.

“Cap, hi,” your voice was groggy. You cleared your throat before looking back up at him. “Did you get beeped as well?”

“Yeah, can I walk you there?” Steve’s eyes glanced down at your sweater, recognition flashing across his face.

Crap. Bucky’s sweater.

You forced your eyes to stay on his face, refusing to give him any sign of the truth. “Sure, we should probably hurry up!”

You turned on your heels, starting towards the medical bay with Steve hot on your heels. Blood rushed to your head as you realized your current situation - if Steve had made the connection, there was no doubt others would too.

Barrelling into the med bay, you sprung into action, trying desperately to ignore the lingering glances you felt all over your skin.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Tony’s parties had always been extravagant, and this one was evidently no different. Balloons and lights turned the room fluorescent, a rainbow of colours reflecting on the dance floor in the middle of the room. For as much drama as these events caused, it was always nice for the whole team to get together and have some fun, Avengers and medical staff included.

The past few days, the only discussion in the medical bay had been centered around outfits, what was everyone going to wear? Hidden in the back of your wardrobe, you had purchased an outfit months ago, knowing that one of these parties would inevitably be organised before long.

The surprise of the day had occurred when you exited the bathroom; hair done, sprayed with your favorite scent and accessories perfectly matched to your outfit. You were thoroughly feeling yourself, the reality of this look living up to the concept you had created in your head. What you hadn’t expected, however, was to see Bucky, fixing his cufflinks in the vanity mirror before adjusting his tie - the colour of which matched your outfit, exactly.

You watched his reflection in the mirror, leaning back against the wall while admiring the man before you. He caught your eyes in the mirror, a smirk on his face as he witnessed the reaction to his master plan.

“You like it?” he spoke clearly as he picked up the hairbrush from the vanity, running it through his locks and settling them into place.

You sighed into your words, “A perfect match. Aren’t you worried someone will realise?”

“Nah, Tony’ll get everyone drunk enough they won’t even be able to see straight,” Bucky chuckled, using your scrunchie to tie back part of his hair as he brushed through a knot.

“Apart from Steve,” you raised your eyebrows, alluding to your previous interaction with the blonde super soldier.

“Steve’s fine, even if he thought something he’d never say it to anyone,” Bucky smiled at you, sliding the scrunchie back on his wrist as he turned, approaching you. His hands rested on your hips as he looked over your figure. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thanks Jamie,” you pressed your lips to his, reaching up to stroke his neatly trimmed beard. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“You know, we just look too good together. If people knew, they would just be so jealous they would implode,” Bucky joked, a familiar, cheeky grin returning to his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” rolling your eyes, you pressed a final kiss to his lips before turning for the door. “I’ll see you up there. Don’t stare at me too hard.”

You gave him a quick wink before opening the door, making sure to see the look on his face before leaving - it was a sight to remember.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve had approached you as you entered the party, clapping his hand on your shoulder in a friendly manner.

“Hey, Doc! You scrub up nicely,” he smiled down at you, dressed in his finest suit.

“Looking good, Cap,” you pulled him into a quick hug. “How have you been? I feel like it’s been a minute since we caught up.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Steve spoke, your previous interaction hanging in the air between you. “I’m good, just all these missions at the moment.”

It felt like a test, as though he wanted to see if Bucky had mentioned anything about these missions, to see if you and Bucky truly were in eachothers pockets as he predicted.

“There’s been some brutal injuries coming in, I feel like I’ve set more bones in the past week than the entirety of last year,” a nervous laugh left your body, feeling forced. Steve laughed in return, his eyes still searching yours.

A murmur settled over the crowd as heads turned towards the door. Curious, you craned your neck in an attempt to see what everyone was looking at. Of course it was him.

Bucky strolled in, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the room, eyes settling on you and Steve.

In that moment, there were three things you knew. You knew, without even looking, that Steve’s eyes were on you, trying to gauge your reaction to Bucky’s presence. You also knew that on Bucky’s raised arm, your scrunchie still sat, decorating his wrist. The final thing that you knew, your face was flushed pink as you realised the pair of you had messed up, again.

Steve definitely knew something was happening.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The light from your laptop was starting to give you a headache, blue light and all that. Running a hand over your face, you squeezed your eyes closed before opening them again and looking at the ceiling. The night shift was your least favorite of the shift patterns to work; not necessarily because of the timings, more because you hated leaving Bucky to sleep alone. The nightmares always seemed more frequent during these weeks.

A quick stretch of your limbs, punctuated by your bones popping and cracking, waking your body up from its lazy position, slumped over in your chair. There wasn’t too much to do on these night shifts, no-one was training at this time and missions had been slow recently. Your job was just to monitor the few agents on the ward and be there in case of emergency.

You stood, taking the opportunity to release the pressure in your back with a quick turn. Your shirt rode up, wafting Bucky’s familiar scent back into your face. You had left his room, not realising you were still wearing his red henley shirt. It was oversized on you, making it super comfortable and ideal for this shift.

“Doctor, Captain Rogers is on his way to the med bay with a request,” FRIDAY spoke over the speaker, the sudden noise a shock to your system.

Rubbing your eyes, you responded, “Okay, do you know the request?”

“He didn’t say, my apologies,” FRIDAY returned.

You began to pace the room, trying to consider what Steve might be wanting from you. Steve was the type of person who made it his business to know every single person in the compound. It’s my role as the Captain, he would say, the ship doesn’t sail without the sailors. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come to the med bay, visiting the medical staff on his rounds.

At the sound of the door you turned, eyes landing on the built frame of the man before you. Steve had never intimidated you, despite his intense physique and serious face, until recently, the prospect of him uncovering your secret setting you on edge. You plastered a smile on your face, trying to avoid him sensing something was off with you.

“Hey, Cap. How’s it going?” you spoke calmly, strolling over to meet him.

“Hi, uh- Are you free to talk?” Steve reached up, scratching the back of his neck.

A wave of anxiety swept over you as he spoke and you were sure the blood drained from your face, “Yeah, of course.”

Steve moved to sit at one of the tables, you sliding in across from him.

“I’ve been noticing some things and I just need to ask… are you and Bucky…?” he trailed off, seeming mildly uncomfortable with asking the question.

You sighed, eyes dropping to the floor, “Yes, Steve. We didn’t want to tell anyone yet, it’s still fairly new and we don’t really know how it’s going to work.”

Steve blew out a breath, seeming instantly lighter, “Thank God.”

“Huh?”

Surprise bloomed in your chest at his response. You were sure that he would be upset, maybe even betrayed at the secret being kept from him. Anger wouldn’t have surprised you, you were well aware of Steve’s intent on helping Bucky heal from his past before getting into anything overwhelming or new. Relief hadn’t been anywhere on your list of expected reactions.

“I was worried about him, something seemed different. It’s strange; he was more secretive and withdrawn, but there was a part of him that seemed better, healed maybe. It wasn’t until I saw you wearing his shirt, and then at Tony’s party, that it started to click. He’s in love,” Steve smiled, looking across the table at you.

“Oh, I- it’s still new, we haven’t said anything like that,” you stuttered.

Steve smiled, knowingly, “Doc, he’s been my best friend for nearly a century. I can tell when he’s in love.”

Your face flushed scarlet, your stomach full of butterflies at the revelation. Your watch beeped, alerting you to the end of your shift.

“Steve, I have to go,” your eyes met his and he instantly understood the message. Giving you a quick salute and a smile, he stood and turned to leave the room.

You sprinted back to your room, counting down the steps as you neared him. You creaked the door open, inch by inch, peering in to see if Bucky was asleep. As you had expected, he was lying atop the covers, hands behind his head and eyes focused on the ceiling. He turned to look at you as you entered.

“Mornin’ doll, how was-”

You ran over, cutting off his speech as you kicked your leg over, straddling his hips. You cupped his face in your hands, leaning down to press your lips to his. You felt his surprised response as he short circuited, taking a second to kick into gear and kiss you back. His hands roamed up your legs, rising to rest on your waist as he lifted his head, returning the kiss with passion.

Your lips danced as tongues and teeth clashed, the kiss becoming heated quickly. You forced yourself away from him, lips swollen and pink from the passion.

“Woah, good night?” Bucky was breathless, a rare sight for the self-proclaimed “ladies man”.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I am totally, irreversibly, completely in love with you.”

Your heart pounded, the seconds stretching into minutes, into hours, into days. You watched as Bucky’s expression changed; surprise, confusion, understanding, happiness, excitement, laughter. Then, you watched his eyes as they began to water.

“Darlin’, I am fully, devotedly, inconceivably in love with you,” he pulled you back to his lips, confirming the statement with his mouth.

Faces met, hands grabbed, hair pulled, hips rolled, teeth nibbled, breaths moaned. It was truly a night to remember.

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