#trying to figure out what to do for everyone! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theetherealbloom · 3 days ago

Text

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.7

Chapter Seven: What Are You Doing To Me Now?

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck,

Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: ISTG last chapter— ya’ll comments had me wheezing and dying of laughter PLEASE— MY BAD, I DIDN’T MEAN TO GIVE PEDRO A HEART ATTACK LMAOOOO. Anyways, enjoy this little filler of a chapter. That’s 8k words long LMAO…

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

Song: The blue by Gracie Abrams

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — AFTERNOON

“You still need to change.”

The words tumble out before you can stop them, and you immediately want to crawl into a hole. Out of everything you could have said, that’s what your brain decided on?

Pedro blinks at you.

Then, as if just realizing it himself, he looks down at his suit—a bright, unmistakable blue, the bold insignia stretched across his chest.

Mr. Fantastic.

A literal superhero, walking through the lot, guiding you with steady hands like you were the fragile one. It’s so utterly absurd you almost laugh.

“Huh,” he says, eyebrows raising in mild amusement. “Guess I forgot.”

You shake your head, half-exasperated, half-fond. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving a dull ache in its place, and for the first time since the accident, the weight of everything presses in.

The stitches in your arm pull when you move too fast, a sharp reminder that this was real. That you’d actually shoved Pedro out of the way and taken the hit yourself.

He hasn’t let you forget it, either.

Not in the way his fingers still ghost over your wrist, as if testing to make sure you’re solid. Not in the way he keeps looking at you, his expression unreadable, like he’s trying to work through something in his head but hasn’t found the words yet.

And now, on top of it all, you still need to check in with Jess, confirm with Matt that you’re cleared for the day, and figure out if you need to file for medical leave.

So much for an easy afternoon.

You make your way across the lot, Pedro still at your side, his presence warm and steady. When you find Matt and Jess, they’re already deep in conversation with Rob Beggs, the safety manager. The area where the light rig fell is cordoned off now, crew members carefully maneuvering around it as they assess the situation.

The moment Jess spots you, her face crumples into something equal parts relief and guilt.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” she asks, stepping forward like she wants to hug you but stops herself at the last second, eyeing your injured arm. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

“Jess, no,” you interject quickly, shaking your head. “This wasn’t your fault. Accidents happen.”

“Still, I feel awful,” Matt adds, rubbing the back of his neck. “We should have double-checked the rigging before calling everyone in.”

“And we’re going to,” Rob says, tone firm but even. “I’m running a full investigation on this. We’ll figure out where the breakdown happened and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You nod, appreciating the sentiment but also not wanting to linger on it. The last thing you want is for everyone to start treating you like glass.

“I’m okay,” you say, offering them what you hope is a reassuring smile. “Just a few stitches. I’ll live.”

“Damn right you will,” a familiar voice cuts in.

Daisy.

She and Omar appear from the side, both of them looking equally relieved and exasperated.

“You scared the hell out of us,” Omar says, shaking his head. “One second everything was fine, and then—boom. We see you on the ground, bleeding.”

You wince. “Yeah. That part wasn’t fun.”

“No shit,” Daisy mutters. Then her eyes flick to Pedro, who still hasn’t strayed far from your side. Her gaze sharpens just slightly.

“You sticking to her like glue for the rest of the day or what?” she teases, but there’s an underlying note of curiosity there.

Pedro doesn’t even hesitate.

“Yep.”

You glance at him, surprised by how easily the answer leaves him. His expression is relaxed, but there’s something in his eyes, something quietly unwavering, that makes your stomach flip.

Daisy arches a brow, but she doesn’t push.

Instead, she just shakes her head, smirking slightly. “Figures.”

Omar huffs a laugh. “Well, at least she’s in good hands.”

You feel your face heat, and Pedro, the absolute menace, just looks utterly unbothered, like he was always meant to be standing here next to you. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Alright,” Jess sighs, rubbing her temples. “You’re cleared for the day. If you need extra time off, just let me know.”

You nod. “Thanks, Jess.”

“Now,” Matt adds, giving Pedro a once-over, “please tell me you’re not actually taking her back to the hotel like that.”

Pedro glances down at himself again.

Then he shrugs. “I dunno. Kinda think it adds character.”

You groan, covering your face with your good hand.

“Just go change, man,” Omar snorts.

Pedro grins, but then his attention shifts back to you, and the humor fades just slightly, replaced with something softer. Something quieter.

“I’ll be quick,” he says, voice low. “Stay here, okay?”

You nod, and the second he steps away, you exhale, feeling the weight of everything settle just a little heavier on your shoulders.

Daisy nudges you.

“So,” she drawls, a knowing glint in her eye. “Anything you wanna share?”

Your face burns.

“Nope.”

Omar snickers. “Yeah, sure.”

You huff, shaking your head, but you don’t say anything else. Because honestly?

You’re not sure how to explain what just happened.

Or how you’re supposed to go back to normal after it.

You don’t know how Pedro managed to convince Matt and Jess to call it an early day, but somehow, he did. Maybe it was the way he asked, firm yet gentle, leaving no room for argument, or maybe they saw the concern in his eyes—the kind that couldn’t be faked. Either way, production had been shut down for the day.

Besides, Rob had said they needed to check the cameras, review the footage, and determine exactly what went wrong.

Now, you were surrounded by Vanessa, Ebon, and Joseph, their voices overlapping as they checked in on you.

“Oh my god, are you sure you’re okay?” Vanessa asked, wide-eyed, her hand hovering near your arm as if she was scared you’d break.

“Yeah, you took quite the hit,” Ebon added, shaking his head. “Looked bad from where we were standing.”

Joseph crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. “They need to get that sorted out before we continue filming. It could’ve been worse.”

You nodded, offering them a small smile, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline and the way their concern made you feel more fragile than you wanted to admit.

“I’m fine, really,” you reassured them. “Just a couple of stitches. No big deal.”

But your voice wavered slightly, betraying the truth. Your hands were still cold, your heart still hadn’t settled into its usual rhythm. You wanted to be strong—to be the girl who brushed things off with a laugh. You’d always been that girl.

Then Pedro emerged from his trailer.

He’d finally changed out of the Mr. Fantastic suit, trading in the blue spandex for a soft black sweater and dark jeans, but he still had that look—the same one he’d had since the moment the accident happened. Like he hadn’t been able to let out a full breath since.

His eyes found yours instantly.

“Hey.”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “Hey.”

Pedro ignored everyone else, his focus entirely on you as he closed the distance between you. The warmth of his presence was immediate and grounding, and when he reached out—his fingers ghosting over the bandage on your forehead—you felt yourself sway slightly.

“You should be resting,” he murmured, his voice lower, softer, meant just for you.

“I’ll rest when I get home.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but something in your expression must’ve given you away, because Pedro exhaled through his nose, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face before he could think better of it.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, barely there, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. You were very aware of the way the others had fallen silent, watching the moment unfold. But Pedro didn’t seem to care, and you... you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“I didn’t mean to.” The words came out quieter than you intended.

His brows knit together like he was about to say something else, but then Matt called out from the other side of the lot, breaking the moment.

Pedro sighed, dropping his hand, but not before giving your shoulder a small squeeze. “Let me take you back to the hotel. You shouldn’t be dealing with all of this right now.”

Your instinct was to protest, to insist that you were fine, that you could handle it. But the truth was, the idea of getting away from set, from all the eyes and whispers, sounded... nice.

So you swallowed your pride, glanced up at Pedro, and nodded.

“Okay.”

His shoulders loosened slightly, like he’d been waiting for you to agree. “Okay.”

And just like that, he was guiding you toward the parking lot, his hand ghosting over your lower back, protective, steady, like he was ready to catch you if you stumbled.

You exhaled, letting yourself lean into the warmth of him, just a little. Just for now.

The black van was already waiting at the curb, engine humming softly as the late afternoon light spilled golden streaks over the lot. Pedro kept a firm but gentle hand on the small of your back as he guided you inside, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Albert, the driver, glanced back as you climbed in. “Miss,” he greeted with a polite nod, his eyes flickering briefly to Pedro as if silently assessing whether you were okay.

You gave him a small smile. “Hey, Albert.”

Once everyone was settled, the doors shut with a soft thud, sealing you into the familiar bubble of the ride back to the hotel.

“I think after today, we deserve drinks.” Joseph stretched out his legs with a groan, his head thumping lightly against the headrest. “Preferably something strong. Maybe something that could wipe today from my memory entirely.”

You let out a quiet laugh but shook your head. “Thanks, but no alcohol for me.” You scrunched your nose, pulling a face. “Kind of wanna keep all my blood inside me for now.”

Pedro made a noise next to you—something between amusement and disapproval—as he shot you a sidelong glance. “Yeah, no tequila shots for you, querida. Not when you just got stitched up.”

“Ugh, I was gonna say wine, but sure, make me sound like a total mess,” Joseph quipped.

Vanessa smirked. “You are a mess.”

Ebon chuckled. “At least you admit it.”

The conversation carried on, the lighthearted teasing making the tension from earlier slowly fade. You felt yourself relax, your body sinking a little deeper into the seat. But even as the laughter filled the van, you remained acutely aware of the warmth beside you—the way Pedro’s thigh pressed lightly against yours, the way his arm rested along the back of the seat, close but not quite touching you.

And when you glanced at him, you found his gaze already on you, something unreadable in those deep brown eyes.

You looked away first.

The drive back to the hotel stretched longer than expected, traffic turning the usual route into a slow crawl. London streets, thick with impatient drivers and red taillights, blurred into a haze outside the window. Rain had started to drizzle, streaking the glass with soft, uneven patterns. The low hum of conversation filled the van, punctuated by the occasional groan from Joseph whenever the vehicle lurched forward, only to stop again moments later.

You let your head rest against the window, watching the world pass in slow motion. The warmth of the van, the steady rhythm of the rain, and the quiet murmur of voices lulled you into something close to drowsiness. Your body ached—not unbearably, but enough that exhaustion tugged at you with each passing second.

Pedro shifted beside you, the movement drawing your attention. His arm, which had been loosely draped along the back of the seat, dipped slightly, fingertips ghosting over your shoulder in a touch so light you almost imagined it.

“You okay?” His voice was low, meant only for you.

You hummed, turning your head slightly but keeping your gaze on the rain-slicked streets. “Yeah. Just tired.”

His fingers flexed, the briefest hesitation before he let his hand settle—gentle and warm—on your arm. Not overbearing. Just there. Just enough.

You should sit up straighter. You should move, make some joke, shake off the way his presence settled around you like something protective, something safe. But you didn’t. Instead, you let yourself relax, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavier against you.

The next time the van jolted to another stop, your body leaned instinctively toward the nearest solid thing—Pedro.

You felt it the moment your head made contact with his shoulder. The way he stiffened, just for a beat, before exhaling like he’d been holding his breath. You started to move away, an apology forming on your lips, but before you could, his hand found your knee—just the lightest touch, grounding, reassuring.

“Stay,” he murmured.

You weren’t sure if he even realized he’d said it.

But you did. And you stayed.

The voices around you blended, fading into the background as your eyelids grew heavier. Pedro’s breathing was steady beneath your cheek, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into something dangerously close to comfort. His scent—faint traces of cologne and whatever they used to take off the makeup from set—wrapped around you, familiar and warm.

Outside, the rain kept falling. The city moved in slow motion.

And in the middle of it all, you slept, tucked safely into the space Pedro had made for you.

Pedro stilled when he felt the full weight of you against him.

At first, he thought you were just resting your eyes, letting exhaustion settle in after the long, chaotic day. But then your breathing slowed, deepened, the kind of rhythm that only came with sleep.

Carefully, he glanced down at you. Your face was relaxed now, lips slightly parted, the tension that had clung to you all day finally melting away. A soft, barely-there snore slipped past your lips, and—fuck—his heart clenched.

Then he felt it.

A faint warmth against his shoulder.

He shifted ever so slightly, and sure enough—yep. You were drooling.

He should probably mind. He should probably shake you awake or shift you off of him. But the thought didn’t even cross his mind.

Instead, he swallowed past the lump in his throat and stayed perfectly still.

Because if this was all he got—this fleeting moment of quiet, of you trusting him enough to let your guard down, to lean on him like this—he wasn’t about to ruin it.

Still, guilt gnawed at him. The scene kept playing in his head. The accident. The way his stomach had dropped when he saw you hit the ground. The way you had looked up at him afterward, trying to play it off like it was nothing, even though he knew better. Even though he knew you.

He could have lost you today.

The thought made his grip tighten ever so slightly against his knee, his other hand twitching with the urge to reach for you. To make sure you were really here.

And then there was that look.

The one you had given him. The one that sent something sharp and undeniable curling in his chest. The one that told him—without words—that whatever this was between you, it wasn’t just in his head.

He could have kissed you then.

He should have.

But it hadn’t been the right time. Not after what had happened. Not when you were still reeling from it, still patching yourself up.

But fuck, it’s going to keep him up at night.

He wants you.

And he knows—knows—that you want him too.

The van hit another bump, jostling you slightly, and instinctively, he shifted, tucking you closer so your head wouldn’t slip from his shoulder.

You murmured something in your sleep, a soft sigh, curling the tiniest bit toward him. And Pedro?

Pedro let himself enjoy it. Just for now. Just for tonight.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING

A gentle voice coaxed you from sleep.

“We’re here.”

You stirred, warmth pressed against your cheek, the rhythmic hum of the van’s engine fading as the vehicle rolled to a stop. Your mind felt sluggish, still tangled in the remnants of sleep, but then—oh God.

Your head had been resting on him.

Panic flickered through you as you jerked upright, realizing with horror that you had not only slept on Pedro’s shoulder but also left a small damp patch on the fabric of his hoodie.

“Oh my—shit.” You wiped hastily at your mouth, mortified. “I didn’t mean to—Jesus, I drooled all over you. I’m so—”

Pedro chuckled, low and amused, shaking his head. “It’s fine.” His voice softened. “Just don’t move too much. Remember—your stitches.”

The reminder stopped you in your tracks. Right. Your stitches. Your ribs ached dully, a reminder of the accident earlier on set. You swallowed, nodding.

“Right,” you murmured.

Across from you, Joseph twisted in his seat, smirking slightly. “You good?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was still rough with sleep. You cleared your throat and tried again. “M’good.”

Vanessa gave you a sympathetic look, her expression warm. “You should probably head up and rest.”

You nodded again, still feeling a little disoriented. The van door slid open, letting in the cool London air. One by one, everyone filed out, stretching and murmuring about what to do next. Pedro moved to step out, then hesitated, glancing back at you.

“You coming?” he asked, voice low, just for you.

You blinked, forcing yourself to move. Your limbs felt heavy, your body still craving rest. As you started to climb out, your footing wavered slightly—maybe from exhaustion, maybe from the dull ache in your side.

Pedro was there in an instant.

His hand hovered near the small of your back, not quite touching, but close enough to steady you. Close enough to say, I’ve got you.

You inhaled, just for a moment, letting yourself take comfort in his presence.

The warmth of the hotel lobby wrapped around you as you stepped inside, the soft hum of distant conversation and the faint scent of polished wood and expensive cologne filling the air. Pedro stayed close, his presence a quiet reassurance, his hand hovering near your lower back again, never quite touching, but there.

You made your way toward the elevators, pressing the call button. When the doors slid open, you stepped inside with a sigh, exhaustion settling deep into your bones. You tapped your keycard, pressing the button for your floor before instinctively pressing Pedro’s as well.

“Nope,” he said immediately, crossing his arms.

You turned, blinking up at him. “What?”

“You’re staying with me tonight.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “Excuse me?”

Pedro sighed, like he had already expected you to put up a fight. “Someone needs to look after you.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Pedro, I’ll be fine. They’re just stitches. I’m just gonna head to bed early—” You punctuated the statement with a yawn, covering your mouth with the back of your hand.

Pedro gave you that look. That firm, stubborn, no-room-for-argument look, the one you’d seen him use when he was absolutely set on something.

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Just stay in the suite,” he said, softer this time. “Please. You can use your old room.”

Your brows furrowed. “Pedro, my stuff is still in my room.”

“Then I’ll stay with you.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

Pedro shrugged, like it was the most casual suggestion in the world. “If you won’t stay in my suite, then I’ll stay in yours.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding a little too loudly in your ears. The idea of sharing a space with Pedro for the night—of waking up knowing he was just a room away, of the quiet intimacy of existing in the same space—made your stomach flip.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, voice quieter now.

He tilted his head, studying you. “I want to.”

The elevator dinged, signaling your floor. The doors slid open, but neither of you moved. The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken, something there.

You hesitated. He was giving you a choice.

You exhaled, already knowing you were going to give in before the words even left your mouth.

“Fine…” you muttered, crossing your arms. “If it makes you feel better.” You glanced up at him and sighed. “Now put away your puppy eyes.”

Pedro grinned, all smug warmth and victory, but there was something softer in his eyes—relief, maybe. Like he was glad you weren’t pushing him away.

“I’ll just grab some of my stuff. I’ll be right back,” he said, already stepping back toward the elevator panel to press his floor again.

You shot him a teasing look. “Better hurry, or I might just pass out before you get there.”

Pedro narrowed his eyes playfully. “Seven minutes,” he said, like it was a challenge.

You smirked as the doors slid shut, leaving you alone with the quiet hum of the hallway.

By the time you got to your room, exhaustion was already creeping in. You barely had the energy to kick off your shoes before flopping onto the bed, sighing into the plush comforter. You told yourself you’d just close your eyes for a moment—just a second.

Then, exactly seven minutes later, the sound of your doorbell rang through the room.

You rolled off the bed with a groggy sigh, rubbing your eyes as you shuffled toward the door. When you pulled it open, Pedro was standing there, looking so effortlessly comfortable it made your stomach flip.

A plain black tee stretched across his broad chest, the soft fabric hanging loosely over the curve of his arms. Grey sweatpants sat low on his hips, the kind that made your brain short-circuit for a second longer than you wanted to admit. He’d traded his usual contacts for his square-framed glasses, the ones that made him look just a little too good, like a university professor who knew exactly how to ruin you with a well-placed argument.

In one hand, he held a small duffle bag, the strap slung over his shoulder like he belonged here, like this was routine. Like you’d done this before.

Pedro’s gaze flicked over you, taking in your half-lidded eyes and the way you leaned against the doorframe, still fighting off the edges of sleep.

“You didn’t pass out,” he noted, amused.

“Almost did,” you mumbled, stepping back to let him in.

Pedro walked past you, his familiar scent trailing after him—clean, warm, a mix of something woody and subtle, like cedar and spice. He moved easily around the space, setting his bag down by the chair, toeing off his sneakers before glancing back at you.

“You should get some rest,” he said, softer now.

You folded your arms over your chest, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were still in the clothes you wore earlier, your sweater slightly rumpled from your half-nap. “I was resting until someone rang my doorbell exactly seven minutes after leaving.”

Pedro just smiled, unapologetic. “I said I’d be quick.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small grin tugging at your lips.

Then, as if the weight of the day finally caught up to him, Pedro let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw before tilting his head at you. His gaze softened, the humor fading just a little.

“How’s your side?”

You hesitated, glancing down like you could see the stitches through your clothes. “Fine,” you said, but it wasn’t very convincing.

Pedro’s brows pulled together. “Let me see.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Just—let me check, make sure it’s not bleeding or anything.”

You frowned, the shyness creeping back in. “Pedro, I can—”

“You could,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer, “but you won’t.” His voice dipped into something quieter, something coaxing. “Just let me take care of you, okay?”

Your breath hitched.

You should’ve argued, should’ve batted away his concern with another stubborn insistence that you were fine. But he was looking at you like that—like you were something fragile and precious, something worth worrying over.

And maybe a part of you wanted to be taken care of.

You swallowed, nodding once.

Pedro exhaled, something unspoken passing between you, before he gestured toward the bed. “Sit.”

You did.

He knelt in front of you, hands careful as he helped you lift the hem of your sweater, just enough to check the bandages covering your side. His fingers barely grazed your skin, but it was enough to send a shiver up your spine.

Pedro stilled.

His gaze flicked up to yours, like he’d felt it too.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.

Then, finally, he spoke—voice rough, quiet.

“You scared the shit out of me today.”

“So you’ve said…” You mumbled.

Pedro huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he carefully smoothed the fabric of your sweater back down. His hands lingered for half a second too long, fingertips brushing against your waist before he pulled away.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it—just exhaustion, something fond underneath.

You swallowed past the warmth creeping up your neck and cleared your throat. “I, uh—I need to shower.”

Pedro’s expression shifted instantly, concern knitting his brows together. “Careful with your stitches.”

“I know,” you sighed, already pushing yourself up from the bed. “I just—” You hesitated, suddenly aware of how gross you felt. Your sweater was stiff in places, dried with sweat and blood, and your skin itched from the grime of the day. “I just need to wash this all off.”

Pedro’s gaze softened, but his jaw ticked, like he was biting back a hundred different things he wanted to say.

Instead, he nodded. “Okay.”

You quickly gathered your pajamas and underwear, started toward the bathroom, then paused at the door, glancing over your shoulder. “Don’t—” You hesitated, shifting awkwardly. “Don’t leave, okay?”

Pedro blinked, something flickering behind his eyes before he nodded again. “I won’t.”

That was all you needed.

You closed the bathroom door behind you and exhaled, pressing your forehead against the cool wood for a second longer than necessary. Your heart was beating too fast.

You shook it off, moving to turn on the water, making sure it wasn’t too hot—you didn’t want to irritate the stitches. The mirror caught your reflection, and you winced. You looked exhausted, dark circles under your eyes, dried blood streaked near your collar. No wonder Pedro had been hovering.

Carefully, you peeled off your clothes, mindful of your injury as you stepped under the spray. Warm water cascaded over you, washing away the dirt and the tension, and you sighed in relief.

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom, warmth wrapped around you—not just from the plush hotel robe you’d thrown on, but from the scent of food lingering in the air. Something rich, comforting.

Pedro sat on the edge of the couch, scrolling through his phone, but his head snapped up the second he heard you. His eyes flickered over you, scanning for any signs of discomfort, lingering too long on the bandages at your side before he forced himself to meet your gaze.

He offered you a small smile. “I ordered room service for dinner. Figured you needed something to eat before your next set of meds.”

Your stomach answered before you could, a low grumble betraying just how little you’d eaten today.

Pedro smirked. “Guess I made the right call.”

You rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you were grateful. The thoughtfulness of it made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with your stitches.

“What’d you get?” You padded over, tucking damp hair behind your ear as you settled onto the small couch beside him.

“Chicken soup, because, you know—doctor’s orders.” He lifted the lid with a flourish, steam curling into the air. “And some pasta, just in case you wanted something more solid.”

Your lips twitched. “You really thought this through, huh?”

Pedro shrugged, too casual. “You’re my responsibility tonight.”

Something about the way he said it made your breath catch. He didn’t say it like it was an obligation. He said it like it was a fact. Like he wanted it to be.

You looked away, focusing on the soup as you picked up a spoon. “Thanks,” you murmured.

Pedro watched you for a beat before nodding. “Anytime.”

The silence between you was warm, familiar. The kind that didn’t need to be filled.

You focused on your food, spooning up the broth, letting the heat soothe you from the inside out. The warmth of it settled deep in your chest, easing away the tightness that had been there since the accident. Pedro had been right—this was exactly what you needed.

Across from you, Pedro twirled his fork through his pasta absentmindedly, but he wasn’t eating much. His eyes kept flicking toward you, like he was checking, making sure you were still here, still breathing.

“You should eat,” you murmured, not looking up from your bowl.

Pedro let out a small breath of amusement. “You sound like me.”

You lifted a brow. “Guess it’s contagious.”

He smirked but didn’t argue, finally taking a bite of his food. You kept eating, but the weight of his gaze never fully left you. It sat there, unspoken, lingering between the spaces of your breath and the scrape of silverware against ceramic.

After a while, you set your spoon down and leaned back against the couch, stretching your legs out. Pedro’s eyes flickered to your bandages again, his jaw tightening slightly.

Pedro’s gaze flickered down to your bandages again, his jaw tightening slightly.

“You have no idea how much you worried me today,” he murmured, voice rough around the edges.

You exhaled slowly. “I know.”

“I mean it,” he said, setting his plate aside. He shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours, grounding himself in the warmth of you. “One second, you were fine, and the next…” He shook his head, running a hand through his curls. “I keep thinking—if things had gone differently…”

“Hey.” Your voice was soft but firm. You reached out without thinking, resting a hand over his. His fingers twitched under yours, like he was resisting the urge to hold on.

“I’m okay,” you reassured him. “It was just an accident.”

Pedro let out a humorless huff. “That doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

You swallowed, your fingers curling slightly over his. “I know.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The distant sounds of the city hummed beyond the hotel window, the murmur of footsteps passing by in the hallway. But here, in this quiet little bubble, it was just the two of you.

Pedro’s fingers twitched again, then slowly, finally, curled around yours. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t hold too tightly. Just enough to tell you he was still here. That he wasn’t letting go.

Your throat felt tight, emotions tangling up somewhere in your chest.

“Pedro,” you started, but you didn’t know what to say.

He looked at you then, really looked at you. And for the first time all night, you didn’t look away.

There was something in his eyes—something raw, something real. It made your heart stumble in your chest.

He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You need to drink your meds.”

“Right.” You nodded and reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand and twisted the cap off with a sigh. Pedro, ever watchful, pushed the packet of pills closer to you with two fingers.

“Go on,” he urged, tilting his head.

You huffed but took the meds anyway, popping them into your mouth and swallowing them down with a gulp of water. The whole time, Pedro watched you like a hawk, arms crossed over his chest, his face full of barely restrained concern.

“There. Happy?” you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Pedro narrowed his eyes slightly, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Very.”

“You’re being a little much,” you teased, setting the bottle down.

He arched a brow. “A little much?”

“You’re hovering. You’re being—” You gestured vaguely at him. “Like a mother hen.”

Pedro let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Damn right I am. Someone’s gotta make sure you’re not out here trying to tough it out on your own.”

You looked away, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. He wasn’t wrong. You’d spent so much of your life trying to prove that you didn’t need anyone, that you could handle things on your own. But having him here, fussing over you, making sure you took your meds, ordering you food—it was… nice.

Really nice.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling warm all over. “Well, thanks,” you muttered, voice softer this time.

Pedro studied you for a beat, then gave a small nod, like he understood. Like he saw right through you.

You busied yourself adjusting the pillows, trying to ignore how much your heart was racing. But then you froze.

There was only one bed.

Your eyes darted to Pedro’s, and you saw the exact moment he noticed, too. His lips parted slightly, gaze flicking from you to the bed and back again.

“Oh,” you said.

Pedro exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can take the floor.”

You blinked. “What?”

“The floor,” he repeated. “I’ll sleep there.”

You frowned, looking between him and the thick, undoubtedly uncomfortable carpet. “Absolutely the fuck not.”

Pedro smirked, clearly amused by your sudden shift in tone. “Wow. Strong words.”

“I’m serious, Pedro.” You crossed your arms. “Your back will hate you forever.”

His smirk widened into a grin. “Are you calling me old?”

Your mouth opened, then closed. “No! I—I’m just saying, you’ll wake up sore as hell and—ugh.” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples.

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

You glared at him, flustered beyond belief. “Not funny.”

“Very funny.”

You threw a pillow at him. He caught it effortlessly, still grinning like a damn idiot.

“You’re sleeping in the bed,” you grumbled, trying to regain some of your dignity.

Pedro held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. But if I wake up with an elbow to the ribs, I’m filing a complaint.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips.

One bed. Pedro Pascal. You.

You were doomed.

You climb into bed first, carefully maneuvering around your injury as you settle against the pillows. Pedro follows soon after, turning off the last of the lights, leaving only the bedside lamp casting a soft, golden glow over the room. The space between you is small—closer than what two people who are just friends probably should be—but neither of you move to fix it.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are the quiet hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the hotel settling. Then, Pedro shifts slightly, resting his head on his hand as he looks at you.

“Isn’t it weird?” he murmurs.

You blink sleepily. “What?”

“You changed rooms… and now we’re in the same bed.” His voice is thoughtful, like he’s only just realizing the weight of the situation.

You snort. “Maybe I’m cursed.”

Pedro chuckles, low and warm. “Nah, can’t be cursed if you end up spending more time with me.” His grin is downright smug.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Okay, superstar, calm down.”

Pedro huffs out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I’m just saying. If this is a curse, it’s not a bad one.”

You open your mouth to argue—because really, who just casually says things like that?—but the words catch in your throat when you realize how close he really is. His face is relaxed in the dim light, his eyes dark and unreadable, his curls a little mussed from the day.

Your heart stumbles.

It should be weird, lying here with him like this, but somehow… it isn’t.

Somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

The quiet hum of the night settles around you, the warmth of the sheets and the steady presence of Pedro beside you making it all too easy to forget the chaos of the day.

You should be sleeping, but instead, you’re scrolling on your phone, the dim glow illuminating your face as you read. The soft, rhythmic sound of Pedro’s breathing makes you think he’s fallen asleep—until his voice rumbles low in the quiet.

“You always do that before bed?”

You nearly jump, clutching your phone against your chest. “Do what?”

Pedro’s lips twitch in amusement. “Read.”

You swallow. Shit.

“Yeah?” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

Pedro props himself up on one elbow, peering at your phone. “What are you reading?”

Your body goes rigid. Oh god.

You’re reading fanfiction. Specifically, his character’s fanfiction.

Absolutely not. You cannot let this man know.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, locking your phone and placing it screen-down on the nightstand.

Pedro raises a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

You can feel the heat creeping up your neck, and you turn away, mumbling, “It’s nothing important.”

Pedro hums, amused, but thankfully doesn’t push further. Instead, he settles back down, stretching one arm under the pillow.

“Alright, secrets,” he teases, voice laced with sleep. “Guess I’ll just have to wonder.”

You groan. “Go to sleep, Pedro.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and deep. “Fine, fine.”

A comfortable silence blankets the room, the kind that makes your eyelids grow heavier. The warmth of Pedro beside you—solid, steady, real—only adds to it, pulling you deeper into rest.

And before you know it, you’re asleep.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EARLY MORNING

The muffled chime of your alarm cuts through the quiet, dragging you from the depths of sleep. You groan, blindly reaching for your phone on the nightstand, smacking at the screen until the sound dies out.

As you settle back into the pillows, intending to steal a few more minutes of sleep, that's when you feel it.

Warmth. Solid and everywhere.

Your drowsy brain takes a second to catch up, to process the strong arm slung over your waist, the steady rise and fall of a broad chest against your back, the way his legs are tangled with yours, locking you in place.

And then—oh.

Something hard presses against the curve of your ass.

Your breath catches.

Oh.

Heat floods your face instantly. The realization slams into you with the force of a freight train. Pedro is wrapped around you, his body flush against yours, and—yep, there’s no mistaking that.

You go completely still, hoping—praying—that maybe, maybe he’s still asleep, that he’s not aware of how intimately you’re pressed together.

A slow, deep inhale against your shoulder tells you otherwise.

Shit.

You can feel the moment he wakes up, the way his breathing shifts, the faintest tensing of his muscles. And then—

A sleepy, raspy groan vibrates against your skin.

Pedro shifts slightly behind you, his grip on your waist tightening for the briefest moment before his entire body goes rigid.

Silence.

You can practically hear the gears turning in his still half-asleep brain.

“…Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

His hand flexes against your stomach before he very, very slowly starts to pull away, but in doing so, he shifts again—and you feel everything for a split second longer than you should.

A tiny, humiliating sound escapes the back of your throat.

Pedro freezes.

Oh, god. Kill me now.

“…Did you just whimper?” His voice is still thick with sleep, rough and laced with amusement.

“No…” you mumble, barely above a whisper.

He shifts slightly, just enough for you to feel him again, solid and unmistakable.

Your breath stutters.

Pedro lets out a low, knowing chuckle, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he murmurs, “Mmm. I think you did.”

You want to die.

Or maybe kill him. Either option seems preferable to this moment.

“You’re imagining things,” you mutter, voice strained as you try to ignore the way heat licks up your spine.

“Am I?” His arm tightens slightly around your waist, his fingers splaying against your stomach in a way that makes your breath catch.

God, he’s so warm.

You swallow, heart hammering against your ribs. “Pedro.”

Pedro hums in response, low and teasing, the sound vibrating against your skin.

You shiver, heat pooling deep in your stomach. He’s still so close—his breath warm against your jaw, his fingers resting against your waist, firm and grounding.

You don’t know who moves first.

Maybe it’s you, tilting your head just slightly, your lips parting in anticipation. Or maybe it’s him, the way his nose grazes your cheek, the way he exhales shakily, like he’s been fighting this just as much as you have.

And then his lips are on yours.

Soft at first, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, to stop this before it can spiral into something neither of you can take back.

But you don’t pull away.

Instead, you press into him, fingers gripping onto the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

Pedro groans low in his throat, something almost desperate unraveling between you. His hand slips under your shirt, fingers splaying against the bare skin of your waist, not pushing—just holding. His lips part against yours, deepening the kiss, tongue sweeping against yours in a slow, intoxicating glide.

You sigh into him, utterly lost in the way he tastes, the way he feels.

Then he shifts, leaning more of his weight onto you, and a sharp twinge shoots through your side. You inhale sharply, wincing.

Pedro immediately freezes.

His lips break from yours, breath warm and uneven against your jaw. “Shit.” He pulls back, eyes scanning your face, concern flickering in the deep brown of his gaze. “Did I—did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, blinking away the haze of want clouding your thoughts. “No, I’m okay. Just… a little sore.”

His lips press into a thin line, and then he’s pulling away completely, his hands gentle as he brushes a thumb over your hip. “I shouldn’t have—”

You cut him off with a soft laugh. “Pedro, you didn’t break me.”

His brows pinch together, still looking unsure. But then his gaze flickers to the clock on the nightstand, and he mutters a quiet fuck.

You glance at the time. “What?”

“I have to be on set in thirty minutes.” He groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “I gotta get dressed.”

Your heart sinks.

You don’t even try to hide it, the disappointment settling deep in your bones. But it’s not just that he has to leave—it’s the way he pulls away so fast, the way his hands are gone from your skin, the way reality rushes back in like a cold slap to the face.

What if that kiss was a mistake?

What if he didn’t mean it, not really? What if it was just the heat of the moment, an impulse he already regrets?

You swallow hard, trying to school your expression, trying not to let the spiral show on your face.

But Pedro catches it anyway.

He stops halfway through buttoning his shirt, his gaze snapping to yours. His brows furrow, that warm, knowing look settling into his features. “No.”

You blink. “What?”

He shakes his head, stepping closer, voice firm. “No. I know that face.”

You press your lips together, looking away, but Pedro doesn’t let you retreat.

His fingers find your chin, tilting your face back toward him. His eyes are soft, earnest, searching yours. “That kiss wasn’t a mistake.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Pedro exhales, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I like you.” His voice is rough, almost exasperated, like he can’t believe he even has to say it out loud. “Fuck, I like you.”

Your stomach flips. “You do?”

His lips twitch into a small, crooked smile. “Yeah. I do.” He presses his forehead against yours, letting out a breathy chuckle. “And I really wish I didn’t have to leave right now.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension in your chest easing just a little. “Me too.”

Pedro lingers a second longer before groaning, pulling away. “Okay. I really do have to go.” He finishes buttoning his shirt in record time, shoving on his jacket, running a hand through his messy hair.

And yet—before he reaches the door, he turns back, pointing at you. “Take your meds. We’ll talk more later when I get back.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, dad.”

“I’m serious,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “Rest, take your meds, don’t do anything stupid.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “You’re really bossy, you know that?”

Pedro smirks, walking backward toward the door. “Yeah? And you really like it.”

You grab a pillow and launch it at him.

He laughs, catching it before it can hit the floor, and then he’s gone—leaving behind the ghost of his touch, the lingering taste of his lips, and the undeniable truth that you are absolutely, utterly screwed.

The moment the door clicks shut, you stare at it for a solid five seconds.

Then—

You let out a muffled squeal, practically throwing yourself onto the bed, hugging your pillow close to your chest as you kick your feet.

Oh my god.

Oh. My. God.

Did that really just happen? Did Pedro fucking Pascal just kiss you? Did he say—no, did he actually say he likes you? Out loud? Like, in real life?

You bury your face into the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut. This has to be a dream. Some fever-induced hallucination from the painkillers, because there is no way this is actually happening to you.

Your stomach flips as you replay every second of it—the warmth of his hands on your skin, the way his lips moved against yours, the way he groaned into your mouth. Jesus. Your body feels like it’s buzzing, and you don’t know if you’ll ever recover from this.

Then, like a bucket of cold water, a terrifying realization crashes over you.

He doesn’t know.

You push yourself up, staring blankly at the wall as the horror sinks in.

He doesn’t know you’ve been reading fanfiction about him. About his characters. About him doing things that—

You slap a hand over your mouth.

Oh God.

This is the worst thing that has ever happened to you.

What if he ever finds out? What if he ever catches you again, peeking at your phone, and this time you don’t have the composure to hide it? What if he sees the ungodly amount of saved bookmarks you have?

You flop back onto the bed, groaning into your pillow.

Oh. Oh no.

The fanfiction was bad enough. But then—

Your stomach drops.

The TikTok edits.

The candid photos.

The folder.

You physically sit up in bed, gripping the pillow like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. The folder on your phone—hidden in the depths of your camera roll, labeled something totally inconspicuous like Receipts or Taxes—is filled with candid pictures, behind-the-scenes clips, and so many thirst edits of Pedro Pascal set to unholy audio.

You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing so hard your whole body tenses.

You can never let him near your phone.

Ever.

What if he finds the one edit with him as Jack Daniels? The one that made you short-circuit the first time you saw it? Or the compilation of him laughing, looking stupidly charming, set to some overly romantic Taylor Swift song?

Jesus Christ.

You groan, flopping back against the pillows, dragging your hands down your face.

This is bad.

Like, really bad.

Because not only have you been a lowkey (very highkey) fangirl for years, but now you’ve kissed him. Now he likes you. Now there’s a very real possibility that this could actually go somewhere.

And if he ever finds out just how deep your obsession goes?

You’re changing your name and moving to a remote island.

End Notes:

Well… IT HAS BEEN HINTED AT. TIME AND TIME AGAIN. That you are a fan girl so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh God, what if he finds out 😃

Ya’ll they kissed! YAYYY!!

Awww you have a week off to rest and heal up girlieeee heuheuh

Look at Pedro being a mind reader. Love that for you!

We love a reassuring king. Gimme that shit.

Yes, this is a little filler chapter before absolute chaos… oh hrm I meant… nothing what?

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy @widowsvail @senhoritamayblog @morganlolitta @suzysface @reidsworld @xmaykeca @dontlookatme121 @mandaloriankait @picketniffler @pedrofan @mystickittytaco @enchantingchildkitten @seven-seas-of-fuck-you @ro-nahime-things @senhoritamayblog @hermionelove @ashhlsstuff @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @youusunshineyoutemptress @klajmekkk @aomi-nabi

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader masterlist #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x plus size reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal gif #pedro pascal gifs #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fandom #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedrito #pedrohub #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut

322 notes · View notes

rosiecosy · 2 days ago

Text

game over˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(wonwoo x reader) — fluff

"hi, everyone," wonwoo says, adjusting his headset. chat is already going wild, excited for another gameboi live.

but today, there’s a twist.

"so… i have a guest today," he continues, turning to look at you with a knowing smile. "she insisted on playing, so… this should be fun."

"hi!" you wave enthusiastically at the camera. "just a disclaimer—i love games, but i don’t actually know how to play them."

"yeah, i figured," wonwoo mutters under his breath, but the fond smile on his face gives him away.

the game loads up—a simple co-op adventure game. should be easy enough.

"okay, just follow me," he instructs.

"yup! got it!" you announce confidently.

and then immediately run in the opposite direction.

wonwoo stares at the screen. "wait—where are you going?"

"i don’t know! my character has a mind of their own!"

"you’re literally holding the controller upside down."

"oh." you flip it the right way. "okay, that might have been the problem."

chat explodes.

[PLS NOT THE CONTROLLER BEING UPSIDE DOWN]

[wonwoo looks like he’s questioning everything rn]

[he’s so whipped i can’t]

finally, you get the controls figured out—just in time for the first enemy to appear.

"OH MY GOD—WONWOO WHAT DO I PRESS IF I NEED TO RUN?!"

"just move the joystick—"

"WHICH ONE?!"

"…the only one that moves your character?"

you start mashing buttons, and instead of running, your character just… squats.

"why are you crouching?" wonwoo asks, struggling not to laugh.

"i don’t know!! i pressed something and now i’m stuck!!"

"babe," he sighs, reaching over to gently place his hand over yours. "just press this."

his fingers guide yours to the right button, and suddenly, your character moves again.

"OH. you saved me," you say dramatically. "you’re my hero."

wonwoo huffs out a small laugh. "you’re ridiculous." but the way his ears turn pink says otherwise.

chat, of course, notices.

[DID HE JUST BLUSH??]

[wonwoo.exe has stopped working]

[the way he helped her so gently... i'm sick]

the two of you continue playing, and every time something happens, your reactions are so over-the-top.

"AHHHH, WONWOO, IT’S COMING FOR ME—"

"then attack it?"

"WHICH BUTTON IS ATTACK??"

"…you’ve been playing for twenty minutes."

eventually, after some progress (mostly thanks to wonwoo), you reach the final boss.

"okay," wonwoo says. "we just have to time our—"

"YOLO!" you yell, charging in headfirst.

"WAIT—"

game over.

silence.

you turn to wonwoo, trying not to laugh. "…sooooo, do we try again?"

he just stares at you for a second before sighing, shaking his head with a small smile. "yeah. but this time, maybe let me explain first?"

"no promises."

he rolls his eyes but reaches out to fix your headset, fingers brushing against your cheek for a second longer than necessary.

"what was that?" you tease.

"what was what?"

"the way you just touched my face so lovingly."

"i was fixing your headset."

"mhm. sure."

he huffs a small laugh, flicking your forehead gently. "focus, troublemaker."

chat is already going insane.

[“fixing your headset” YEAH OKAY]

[the way he looks at her… i can’t do this anymore]

[wonwoo’s patience is unreal but also he’s so soft for her]

the game restarts, and as wonwoo focuses on explaining the strategy properly, you lean in slightly, resting your head on his shoulder.

"…what are you doing?" he asks, not moving away.

"recharging."

he exhales a laugh, shaking his head. "you’re impossible." but he tilts his head slightly, just enough to rest against yours.

and chat loses it.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #svt fic #seventeen fics #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #svt #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonu #gameboi

329 notes · View notes

lufyuu · 1 day ago

Text

,,Homesick''

Tw/s: gore-ish, mentions of blood, hate-love, reader is NOT a good individual, very rough sex, marking (several times), aphrodisiac effects, reader fucked into unconsciousness, overstimulation, possessiveness, semi rushed.

Huff huff, a man huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath while running as if someone or something is chasing him. He doesn't even look back, not wanting to know what would face him. This time, he intends on never getting caught. Never getting locked up. It would be the first and last time he'd ever get caught. He promises himself that.

Not even a month ago, he spotted a mysterious cloaked figure spying on him through the window of the bedroom. That wasn't the scariest part. The thing that scared him the most was that the bedroom is located on the top floor. As 'fearless' as the man claims to be, this experience shook him up. It reminded him of the man who had been keeping him captive yet...the vibes were different. This figure had a dark presence whereas Zihao had am

The man had even memorized the servants' schedules in order to get out of that wretched manor.

But despite all his efforts in running, the woods seem endless. The sun was still shining brightly when he first escaped but now dusk approaches, the sun dipping slowly but noticeably. The man thought that he would be out of the woods by now but no. He's stuck in these seemingly endless woods. The longer time went on, the more nervous he became. He had always been the hunter and not the hunted. Hell, he doesn't even know if someone is hunting him. He just knows he wants to get far far away from the place. Even if he's having second thoughts every now and then, he stays determined to find the exit out of these woods. The man has gone through countless woods before, what's one more?

Just as the sun sets, the tired man hears the sound of cars..! This is his chance to finally rid himself of the chains which have been holding him back all this time.

"S-sir..!," He almost drops to the dirty ground, clutching his stomach as he limps towards the now pulled over car. He has his head down incase the driver does recognize him. With his body drenched in sweat, the oblivious man falls for his deceit. "What the..are you okay!?," the man instantly gets out of the car, approaching the 'injured' man who just emerged from the woods. It was dangerous, especially when night's about to come. As the man got closer, he realized that the other had no blood coming out the part they were clutching but before he could question it, the latter, with a swift move, slices his throat with a sharp stick. As expected, the man falls down, his body lifeless and limp as a pool of his own blood started to form. "That was too easy," the escapee finally stands up straight with a smirk. Even after all this time, he hasn't lost his touch.

He picks up the body and effortlessly throws it into the woods, not caring if it's found or not. All he wants now is to breathe more of this fresh air and get the fuck out of there.

All the murderer had to do was turn the keys and the vehicle started. As he stared into the rearview mirror, he saw the infamous serial killer whom everyone thought was off the streets, staring back at him. [Name] [L.Name].

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A couple months has passed since that incident and the streets are bloodier than ever. Your skills and knife grow sharper day by day. Because of you, the streets went from being lively to somewhat gloomy. With everyone always looking over their shoulders in case anyone tries to sneak up on them. Or incase they see you, lurking in the dark. Everyone's been begging the police to search harder for the fugitive but no matter how hard they look, they can't seem to find you. You've learned from your previous mistake. It's something you plan on never repeating again.

The public has been more pressure than ever on Zihao specifically. People think he let you go on purpose due to his very unusual sentencing a few months back. In turn, Zihao has become easily irritable, it's made clear by the way he's been sentecing caught criminals.

Trespassing on private property? 3 years with a $3000 fine. Shoplifting? 4 years—you get the point. Hell he even sentenced someone for slandering his name in his courtroom. 10 years without probation.

Despite his very odd behaviour the past few months, nobody questioned. They only saw it as him stressing over the fact you've escaped under his watch. 'It was probably humiliating for him,' 'he must be trying to save face,' people thought. But it was far from the truth. It's true he wanted you back but he didnt feel humiliated, rather, he felt worried, angry. Zihao wanted to know why you would run away from him when he has given you nothing but the best. He wants you back within reach, to feel you against him once more. As each day passed without your precious face next to him when he awakes, without your menacing glare, without your venom, the worry in his chest only grew. He couldn't think straight without you within reach. Just how did you get away..? He had set up a whole barrier incase you tried to flee so why did it break?

The more Zihao thought about your escape, the more questions he had. It shouldn't have been possible and yet you were gone. Nowhere to be found despite his efforts in tracking you down. His beloved, out there, avoiding him. How his heart hurted like never before.

Somewhere outside the city, you had made yourself rather comfortable, getting back the old life you were forced to leave. Though, you didn't have the luxury you were so accustomed to. Everything felt a bit odd but that was just the price for freedom. Who were you to complain now that your freedom's back? You can unleash bloodshed whenever and however you want now!

...But gosh all this freedom wasn't as amazing as you expected. It was hard getting adjusted to your newfound freedom. You often find yourself questioning that mysterious cloaked man's identity. He hadn't done anything but it was still creepy and weird for him to be staring at you through the window like that. Though, those questions didn't have your full attention as because you had gotten so used to your life with bastard of a judge, you would occasionally be curled up craving someone's touch. To have their hands all over you and fuck you good. You tried ignoring your tent for as long as you could but gave in eventually. Even as your hand pumped your hard cock, you just didn't get the same satisfaction you had gotten with Zihao. Not as if you'd ever admit it though. Eventually, you decided to hook up with some prostitutes, perhaps they'd provide the same satisfaction.

Oh you were so wrong. Not only were they terrified of you once they had learned of your name, they couldn't even fuck you right. The more they tried to please you, the more you got annoyed until their heads inevitably splurted out thick crimson liquid. A whole mess for the staff to clean up but at least you did them a favour by getting rid of an incompetent worker.

On one of those bloody nights, you decided to go out on a stroll after a gruesome kill. "Tch," you clicked your tongue, "this is tiny as hell," you said with one hand in your pocket while the other was holding a mutilated dick of the man you had just murdered. Throwing it away in a discrete area and snickering as it falls down, hitting the ground. You were far enough from the crime scene to be able to stroll worry free. The night was still young, being only midnight, you wonder what else you could do.

The downside of being a known and wanted fugitive was that _everyone_ knew your face. Making it harder for you to navigate around. "Hah, what a pain...," you say as the thought took over your mind. Life was much simpler back then. Back with Zihao. "Fuck!" You kick over some rock at the thought of your captor. You can imagine his smirking face so clearly. But it's all in your head. That bastard's been in your mind all week and it's just pissing you off. Your heart and body longs for his while your brain longs to see the man's head chopped and served on a platter to you.

You shake your head, perishing the thought and thought about something, anything to do. Something interesting.

That's when you notice a random gust of wind accompanied by a strange and large shadow. It wasn't small enough to be an animal that's for sure. It couldn't be a bear as you're not even near any forests. Without saying word, you turn around, looking everywhere to find the source of that strange wind. When you find nothing, you sigh, perhaps your head's playing tricks on you again. Not a surprise, you've surely just gone insane because of the whole captive situation with Zihao. Right..?

"Fuck, maybe I should just get back," you mumble and start to walk faster to the direction of wherever you'd stay for the night.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The list of missing people and victims grew almost endless. Their bodies mutilated in a way nobody could ever imagine. It was definitely the work of a fucked up maniac. One such as yourself. Well, it was your work anyways. You made sure nobody else could take the credit after working so hard on those bodies.

Your merciless and brutal murders scared even the most fearless men. They'd cower at the sight of you which motivated you even more. No more staying at home, no more being locked up, no more Zihao. Just the way you liked it. Right?

You wish you meant the last part but even in your sick head, you felt something akin to homesickness. Maybe that's not the right word. You just felt lost. After so long of living in luxury and having someone tend to your every need, you craved it slightly. Even if it was at the cost of your freedom. But wasn't it better than being a wanted runaway? Zihao no longer had control of you, though. It's all you've ever wanted. There's no way you miss his soft touch, gentle kisses— gosh what were you even thinking. Did he place some sort of spell on you? You're [Name] [L.Name]. A brutal serial murderer. You have no time for these trivial feelings. They were never a problem so why now?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

You were restless that night. Plagued with all sorts of nightmares involving him...but oddly, he was the one who saved you from this unknown figure each time before dissapearing from your grasp. You would wake up with cold sweat from just a mere nightmare. Panting, trying to catch your breath as you wake up in a hurry, looking around to see if anyone was near, looking for the cause of that vivid nightmare but..nothing.

And it continued to be like that for the next week. Each time the figure felt closer and closer. You knew it was all in your head but it just felt so..real. Even after all this time the question still lingers in your mind, just who is that mysterious man? Hells, the only reason you knew it was a man was because of his deep voice which sounded almost like an animal's growl the first time you heard it. You wanted to dig more into it but found it hard as you had no leads. Even as a serial murderer such as yourself, that figure had shaken you up. How was it that someone could rescue you so fast and swiftly while you spent several months inside that prison-like manor without a chance of escape? Though, these questions didn't prevent you from doing your weekly murder. Why would it anyway?

To be fair, it was also your way of getting things off your mind.

After catching your breath, you finally calm down enough to decide it's time to get ready for the day. Going out in the day was no easy feat for a wanted criminal such as you. You have to wear outfits or accessories that can hide your face or at least half of it while not standing out. You much prefer the night's embrace. You could walk around freely by that time of day.

Walking out of your hideout, you expected to see the sun shining as always but it looked rather gloomy. Something about it was very off. Perhaps a storm was coming? No that's not right..it looks different than a storm. Even the vibes you were getting weren't great. "It's fine, the weather's just a bit weird sometimes." You try to reassure yourself, it's not something to worry about. Step by step, you walk around the city, making sure to avoid the busier parts filled with officers out looking for you. While looking around, you notice that there were more officers patrolling than usual. You knew they were trying hard to locate you but the amount of officers were ridiculous. Even more so as it was only for one person. "If Judge Liu wanted to find me so badly, he should've patrolled himself," you say to yourself while shrugging.

Though, something was off. Very off. The city folks seemed more wary somehow. Have they already found the mutilated body? There's no way, you would have heard of it by now. Plus, there wasn't this big of a reaction when your other victims were found in a worse state. Speaking of...there were more people walking around than usual. Ever since you've been on the run, the city folks avoided going out, resulting in the city being uncrowded. But today, everyone seemed to be gathering for some unknown reason. You'd expect a crowd of this size to be loud and full of life but all you hear are murmurs. It's very eerie even by your standards.

Asking around whilst keeping your identity hidden, you find out that Judge Liu has...vanished. It's as if he just dissapeared. The revelation should have made you jump with joy but it didn't. Somehow, you felt a lump in your throat, your heart drops at the news. Zihao...is gone? Just like that? "There's no way." You tried to convince yourself despite your foot tapping and your palms starting to sweat a bit. It's a joke, isn't it? He's a dragon and this city's respected judge, he wouldn't just dissapear like that. Were your dreams becoming a reality—no, no. There's just no way.

Taking a few steps forward, you were too lost in your thoughts to notice the tall man infront of you. As you bump into him, he stops in his tracks and so do you. "Tch." You let out, you were already feeling conflicted and this just set you off. Without hesitation, you try to walk around him, ignoring his presence as much as possible. A grip on your wrist causes you to hold a dagger at his throat. Looking up at the stranger, you're shocked to look into the same eyes you did all those months ago. The man who had helped you fulfill your wishes. Him.

The hesitation gives him enough time to knock the dagger out of your hand and also pull you in just close enough for your eyes to roam around his face, taking note of his unusually bright red eyes with a slit as a pupil and the many many scars he has on him. Particularly the slit he has from his left mouth to cheek. "We meet again, Zihao's little mate." 'Little mate.'

With a swing of your fist, you manage to knock him square in the jaw which forces him to let go of your hands, almost pushing you away in the process. You were nothing if not your brute force and precision. "The fuck did you say." As you were about to deliver another blow, an unknown force stops you. His eyes glowing even more. Unluckily for you, everyone was far too focused with one another to see or hear this exchange between the two of you. You wanted to kick but that didn't work either. "Feisty. Though, I wonder why dearest Zihao chose you out of all the other humans." He tilts his head in amusement, seeing your angry expression. "Don't look at me like that sweetheart, you're flattering me," his tone teasing as he releases you from his magical grasp. Your heart drops at a thought. What if Zihao dissapeared because of him..?

"All this talk about Zihao, are you obsessed with that bastard like all the others?" You snarl at the man, showing aggression. He's silent for a moment, eyes a bit wide before bursting out in laughter. "Hah...me? Obsessed with that old man? You're funny," he stops laughing, "I want that motherfucker dead." His expression suddely serious, eyes so full of hate that even you can't comprehend it. "And I know you hate him too, despite being...marked by the guy sooo why don't we take him down together hm?" He offers and you lift up an eyebrow, why would he want to team up with you? He's shown what he's capable of alreay. Magic. Despite your reputation, you are still a human afterall. "I know what you're wondering, you're a mortal yada yada but you're different don't you get it? I mean, it's not everyday you come across a famed and escaped serial killer now is it?" He looks at you expecting a nod but you don't do anything, leaving him sighing. "Are you in or not? I could just slaughter him myself—" "I'm in." You finally answer. Maybe this way you won't feel conflicted about him anymore. Maybe this was the solution all along.

Leading you away from the city, the two of you trek into the deep forest, the sound of leaves crunching and branches snapping were the only sounds that could be heard. "Where are we going," You ask suspiciously, looking around for any sort of trap. "Oh don't be so impatient, you'll see soon enough, [Name]." The man is relaxed but you're not done asking questions. "Since you know my name, what's yours?" You look expectantly at him, waiting for an answer. A name. Maybe you'd even recognize it. His expression is oddly not the usual smirk he has. It takes a few seconds of silence before he states his name, "call me Zarek." Zarek smiles at you while the two of you continue the long walk. It's an unfamiliar name, you've never heard it before but something about it makes you uneasy.

As the two of you walk, you begin to feel as if you were reaching your destination. The homesickness was going away. This change of feeling showed on your face with Zarek taking notice. "You feel it don't you? His presence growing near. It's giving you comfort huh?" He looks at you with a mad expression, more than slightly amused at your expression and body language. Before long he's laughing to himself, enjoying your uneasiness. "What the fuck are you laughing at," You say, facing him, it's more of a threat than anything. All of a sudden he stops, his laugh stopping with his steps.

Your eyes widen to see the sight infront of you. Zihao, chained up. His legs chained while his hands were cuffed. His usual calm demeanor was gone as his eyes met yours. A look of anger spreads on his face as he turns to look at Zarek. "What's with this." "I'm merely helping you out, brother. See your beloved here?" He grabs your chin and hand, making sure you're not able to attack him. "His soul looks absolutely delectable. I just wanted you to see me devour him whole." With your legs, you try to kick him but to no avail.

"I know you've grown weak without your precious mate, Zihao. How does it feel to see him so close and yet out of reach?" Zarek smirks at the restrained dragon who's glaring sharply at him. "He's already marked, Zarek." Zihao warns but his brother doesn't seem to care. "Well, you seem to forget, Zihao. A normal mark like this on a mortal can be overlapped by another," he has a smug look as he says this before turning towards you, "honestly, I was planning on just killing you after a taste of freedom but..," he trails off, his hand cupping your face, "this feels more satisfying."

As you go to stab the man, he stops you by sinking his teeth into your neck, freezing you in place as pain takes over. Just a split second after that, you break out of the trance and find the strength to push him away hard enough that he falls. "Holy shit you're just as insane as him," you say, referring to the man just a few feet away from the two of you. He had biten deep enough to draw blood. Your neck aches, a throbbing pain radiates from the bite. You'd never gotten attacked before, you were always the hunter, not the prey.

The man on the ground doesn't make an effort to get up. He only licks the remaining blood on his lips. "I can definitely see why Zihao loved you so dearly to even keep you away from his family. You're too delicious to share." "You fuc—" your words are cut off by the sudden sensation your body is hit by. Your face contort as your body begins to feel oddly hot, "what the actual fuck did you do to me..!" You barely had any energy to yell the words out as your legs were almost giving out. It was then that Zarek finally got up from the ground, approaching you as you backed away, closing the distance between you and Zihao.

Zarek snatches you into his arms, almost as if holding you hostage as your back is pressed against his. You to your left to see his maniacal expression, he looks as if he's about to devour you full. "This is going to be a lot of fun," he can barely contain the excitement in his voice. Zihao's eyes widen in anger as Zarek's hand roam around your body ss you were helpless. All you wanted to do was stab him right now but you weren't in control of your body.

You close your eyes, wanting this shit to just end already when everything went...quiet. well, except the spund of something tumbling on the leaves. The disgusting hands once on you were gone. When you open your eyes once more, you see that Zihao has somehow broken free of his restraints, his horns and tail out and about. You look behind to see Zarek's dead body. His body pratically sliced in half as his eyes are wide open.

You didn't know how to react as the sensation still hadn't faded. Zihao instantly ran towards you, both his hands cupping your face, looking into your eyes, "[Name]." He says your name, over and over again, as if desperate and not wanting to lose you. You've never seen him in this state. "You're never leaving my side, ever fucking again." His voice changes, you feel weak under his gaze. You're too out of it to even protest even when you really want to. "Zihao...," you call out in almost desperation in your voice. Zihao notices the tent in your pants, realizing what the effects were. "That fuckward." He says, malice in his voice.

"Goddammit, just fuck me right now!" You grab his collar and initiate a kiss. It's deep and full of lust. You haven't felt his lips in so long. The contact drives you crazy. His soft lips against yours. His long tongue which pushes itself into your mouth and almost down your throat.

The two of you break the kiss. "Let's go back home—" "no. Fuck me right here, right now, bastard." Zihao looks at you with lust filled eyes. It's clear he's been holding back, thinking of you. "[Name]. I won't stop even if you ask me to."

In just a few minutes, one of his dicks is already deep inside you. You're being held up by him, your back against a tree as your legs are limp. One on his shoulder as the other layed limp in his hand, wrapped by his long tail. Your pants long discarded while he still had his on low enough to let his cocks out. "[Name] you don't know how long I've been waiting." His voice is full of anger and lust, thrusting into you roughly and with an inhuman speed, not caring for your screams. If someone were to walk even a few miles into the forest, they would hear your wonderful moans. Even as your fingernails dig into his flesh, he doesn't seem to feel it as he's only focusing on fucking you so full of cum that you don't even think of escaping ever again.

The purple mark on your lower stomach which has dissapeared before, reappeared and this time, it's going to stay. "You're mine, all mine, nobody else can take you." He then bites into the same area Zarek had bitten, making you arch, your eyes wide but the sensation wasn't really painful, it somehow filled you with bliss. You felt safe, protected. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he continued to pound your ass.

"Hah...agh mm..Zihao!" You screamed out his name, indicating you were close to your climax. Soon enough, you came as he continued his powerful thrusts. Having just came, you were even more sensitive. Your body trembling, "you're still so...tight even after all this fucking. Hah...Gods, you were really made for me." His thrusts went even faster as he chased his own climax, the sound if your ass being pounded so hard clear as day.

He cums inside of you, no cum escapes as he leave his cock inside, plugging your hole. Just as you were about to catch your breath, his second cock entered slowly but surely. You close your eyes, bracing for the pain of it all. After both of his cocks are in, you felt too full to even talk. You've felt this multiple times before but it still manages to surprise you each time. "I-it's too much..ah..," you moan as he lifts you up, leaving just the tips of his cocks in, "I need to claim you fully," was all Zihao said before he thrusts all the way into you, balls deep. You scream at the sensation, so full of cock. As he thrusts in and out, you can hear squelching noises as his cum practically acted as lube. His grunts indicated how pleasured he is, fucking you so hard. Your beautiful noises encouraging him even more.

"Don't ever, ever...agh..Leave me again." He says, his words having a hint of desperation, wanting to hold you even closer than right now even if it's impossible. "M..mhm..aCK—" his cocks manage to hit your spot just right, making you see stars. Your mind goes blank. Zihao notices this and takes advantage of it. He thrusts deep inside to hit your prostate on purpose. You could only lay limp and take all of it, moaning so much you know you'll lose your voice the day after. The dragon's grunts accompanied by his fast and rough pounding manages to make you even more horny. "Only you can handle me, [Name]," he states and you know it's a fact. Who else would be able to take two cocks at once? Certainly not anyone you know.

He squeezes your thigh with his hand, his nails almost digging into your skin. Due to the pain and pleasure of taking both cocks, you bite down on his neck, leaving an equal mark. But, you don't let go even after tasting his blood. It has a metalic taste just like any other but you were almost addicted to it after the first taste. The flavour is just...enticing.

Zihao barely noticed his flesh being pierced by your teeth, the amount of pleasure he was in just fucking you was indescribable. How could he even focus on anything else but your tight walls squeezing around his cocks? He wanted to pump you so full of cum you could never walk again. So that you would always remain by his side. Never to escape again.

After several deep thrusts, the two of you cum at the same time with him cumming inside while you splurt all over the both of you. "AGH...!aH!" You moan as loud as your voice could, Zihao moaning with you as he felt himself unload inside. Even as he's cumming, he's still thrusting as if there's no tomorrow. "Z-zihao AhHhhHh..." You didn't even have a chance to protest. You were already too weak to yell at him for his relentless thrusts.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"You've been awfully..agh, quiet, [Name]," Zihao says with a smug look on his face, clearly knowing why that was the case. "You're practically drooling now." And that, you were. Your body limp whilst Zihao pounded your redish hole over and over again, leaving you no room to take a breather. You knew he loved to fuck multiple times in a row but..this has got to be a world record! His libido is insane. You couldn't even think of that as your brain was practically mush now, leaving you no room for thought that wasn't about the judge infront of you right now. Maybe oh just maybe if you hadn't gotten caught a few months back, you wouldn't be here today, being stuffed so full and fucked so dumb that nobody would ever think of you as the dangerous serial murderer you actually were. Or maybe that is what Judge Liu wants.

Your mind can barely process his words after he stops thrusting. "[Name], take a good look." He points below, prompting you to look at the direction of his finger. What you see if your belly swollen, full of cocks and cum as there's droplets of cum flowing out of your hole as you couldn't take anymore inside. You could kill 100 men and it wouldn't feel this tiring, as you look up at him, he grabs your chin to face him. "You're forever mine. Don't forget it, my mate." Before long, you close your eyes, falling unconscious.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

When you awoke, you found yourself in the same room you had desperately tried to escape from months back. But this time, you felt more at home than anything. You knew better than to get up, just moving around slightly ached. "Fuck fuck fuck." You curse at nobody in particular as every part of your body hurted like shit. Well at least your hole's not dripping with cum anymore. "Where the fuck is that bastard," the words fall out of your mouth naturally, referring to the culprit, Liu Zihao.

Footsteps can be heard as someone's walking closer and closer to your room. Speak of the devil. Before long, in walks the Judge Liu in all his glory with...a tray of food and drink? "[Name], you're awake," he says, his voice as delicate as flower qs he approaches you with the tray, setting it on the table next to you. "Here, you've been out for long." He goes to feed you some water, holding it up to your mouth as you slowly get up, sitting upright on the bed even if it hurts. "Take a sip at least." He waits until you drink almost half of it due to dehydration. "Hah, what would the people say seeing the Judge Liu feeding a murderer a drink?" You smirk at the guy as he sets the water down. He looks back at you with a sigh. "Don’t ever leave me again. You know the dangers. Especially after facing Zarek. He's sure to return once more." Upon hearing this, you were confused, "he's dead though, you sliced that fucker in half, I saw." "We dragons are different, even if our physical bodies are destroyed, we can come back so long as..nevermind. Just know that he'll be back for you so..stay."

"As if! I enjoyed my freedom to the fullest." You were lying through your teeth. You had felt a piece of you missing when you were away from him, you were definitely homesick—but of course you wouldn't tell him that!

Zihao looks at you with a displeased look before moving like the flash. In just a moment, your hands are pinned to the headboard as your legs parted to make room for his figure. "Then maybe I'll have to fuck that rebellion out of you." He licks his lips with his elongated serpent tongue, his eyes already glowing as the slits became even more visible. You shivered, knowing what was about to happen. Maybe it was out of excitement or perhaps fear.

══════════════════════════════

Guess who's back!! Finally! I'm so sorry for making you guys wait so long, I was super swarmed by work💔🫠

#bottom male reader #oc x male reader #x male reader #male reader #xin's liu zihao ☆#「By the hands of Xin」

354 notes · View notes

theyikesfiles · 14 hours ago

Text

Personally, I find that this kind of article never reaches the target audience? This is no criticism of the article tone and it's intentions, more of an observation - and something I often lose my sleep trying to figure out is how exactly to reach this target audience.

I was obviously very into Harry Potter, engaged with the fandom, read fanfiction, did fanart, the whole thing - and like a significant portion of the fans, felt betrayed and outraged by JKR's blatant hateful endorsement of bigotry. There is a large fandom community committed to boycotting products and media of the franchise, encouraging piracy, and engaging with the work critically. To quote Sérgio Vaz, the reader is sacred, not the writer. I sense a movement of fans claiming the relationship they built with the story as their own, reframing its cultural impact. But like every internet community, it is also a bubble of sorts.

To the point that it made me wonder - who's still buying all of this Warner Bros Harry Potter tat? Who's even going to the cinema to see Fantastic Beasts? Surely everyone here knows better?

How do you get a relatively offline and politically uninterested millennial to not buy a Dobby plushie for their kid? Are they reading small political blogs? How do you get a 64-year-old uninformed father who watched his kid go through their formative years with Harry Potter, drove them to book launches and movie premieres as a teen, not to buy them a Hufflepuff mug for xmas? I know for sure, from meeting people like this in real life, that the arguments in this blog post would never reach them. "A lot of people see their spending power as being totally divorced from the world at large. Every day, we’re plagued by difficult decisions about where our money should go and how we square our ethics with the crushing reality of a cost-of-living crisis. (...) But often, it feels like some smarmy losers use the very true ethos of ‘there is no ethical consumption under capitalism’ as a cheap excuse to satisfy their vainest urges. It’s evident in every influencer who does a Shein haul and then claims it’s a way to appeal to lower-income followers (it’s not. It never is.)"

This is well said and the more insidious part of the problem - and tackling this could mean a complete overhaul of people's values in a western capitalist society. The road is long and the work is hard, but I often find that some will opt to shame Harry Potter fans simply because it's easier. Infantilising arguments like "you're not getting a hogwarts letter" and the ever so repetitive "read another book", as far as I observed, tend to breed resentment and defensiveness - and HP fans already have a pretty cosy community to turn back to and lick their wounds when they feel attacked.

I'm not saying this as a "they should be nicer to wittle Harry Potter fans and protect their feelings!". To some extent, outrage, and shame can be useful tools to shake some people out of their comfort zones. But is it working, in this case? Is it generalising the audience and failing to communicate to specific groups within this audience? Will a Chinese teen who loves British pop culture, a boomer father from the American midwest, a middle-class millennial mom from Staffordshire, and an Irish author of smut fanfiction in their late 20s have the same takeaway from blog posts like this? The answer is "obviously not", so what do we do?

However, to the people who do know better and still choose to invest their money in HP merch and media, I can offer my sincere disappointment and bafflement.

This got a bit long as a response, but these are genuine non-rhetorical questions.

I haven't purchased a HP item in close to a decade - I use the books I already had as doorstops or to prop a laptop up for meetings nowadays.

There is NO "death of the author" with JK Rowling - she controls and continues to profit from her IP, and uses that money to fund hate groups.

101K notes · View notes

mysteryshoptls · 17 hours ago

Text

SSR Azul Ashengrotto - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

I wonder how our newest little business campaign will come to fruition... Heh, oh how I so look forward tomorrow's sales numbers.

Summon: One will usually interact with more people on their birthday than any other ordinary day. In order to deepen personal connections, I must act strategically.

Groovification: I should dress myself promptly. I'd like to make the most of what little time I have available in the mornings.

Home: It's my private time from here on out.

Swap Looks: A wonderful morning.

Home Transition 1: I appreciate how everyone seeks me out for counsel... After all, the more I know of other people's quandaries, the better.

Home Transition 2: A moment ago, Deuce-san shouted his birthday greetings towards me with such fervor. I can't say I'm used to that sort of well wishing...

Home Transition 3: I've started seriously looking into stocks recently. It's never a bad thing to learn all you can before trading.

Home Transition - Login: I refuse to receive gifts as a rule, however birthday cards are another matter. I make sure to read through each one and keep them well.

Home Transition - Groovy: Not only did he wish me happy birthday before classes began, but he also intends to visit the Mostro Lounge... Epel-san is a model freshman.

Home Tap 1: Better sleep quality leads to a more productive performance during the day. It was absolutely worth investing in proper nightwear.

Home Tap 2: Whenever Cater-san graces the Lounge, there is an uptick in the number of customers we see. Now may be the time to unfurl yet another trendy new dish!

Home Tap 3: Hairstyle is an important factor when it comes to first impression. I am always careful to set it so as to give off a professional appearance.

Home Tap 4: Of course, I fully understand the sentiment that money is not a necessity when it comes to celebrating someone's birthday... Yet Ruggie-san takes it to a whole different level!

Home Tap 5: The internet may be quick with how it disseminates information, but sometimes newspapers can still provide unexpectedly valuable reports. How about you give reading one a try?

Home Tap - Groovy: You would like me to teach you some makeup tips? Of course, I don't mind at all. That is, if you are willing to pay a suitable fee.

Duo: [AZUL]: Epel-san, there's no need to gift me anything. [EPEL]: No need to shy away, Azul-san.

Birthday Login Message: [Yuu]-san. Have you, by chance, come to celebrate my birthday? Good timing, I had just hit a roadblock with what I was doing, so I welcome the change of pace. You're curious what this is? Well, it's a new board game. The other day, I only just barely lost to Idia-san, you see. I absolutely must figure out a winning play before our next bout...! Oh, are you intrigued by this board game as well? Perfect, how does a friendly match sound, as I work through possible strategies?

Requested by @oya-oya-okay.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #epel felmier #twst azul #twst epel #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: deuce #mention: cater #mention: epel #mention: ruggie #mention: idia

173 notes · View notes

krazycat6167 · 2 days ago

Text

Say No

(written for @keferon’s Apocalyptic Ponyo AU. A bit of Jazz and Prowl set after most of the events of the au. Enjoy!)

-.-.-.-

Prowl watches from the sidelines as Jazz goes through yet another interview. He can’t shake the feeling that there is something off with Jazz. That there is something that isn’t right.

Oh sure, Jazz looks happy, but Prowl doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t trust it though, so he’s scrutinizing Jazz and his behavior to try and figure it out.

The other orca mer is smiling, talking as animated as he usually does (though notably trying to be polite by staying in one general area), using his hands as he speaks. Those are normal Jazz things to do, even if he seems a bit…more Jazz-y? He’s using a bit more inflection, slightly more exaggerated movements, a smidge extra charm behind the smile. The effect is entertaining, sure, but-.

But…he is…being entertaining. He is here, in an interview, answering questions both benign and personal, and he is putting on a show.

Prowl’s gaze flicks around the room. Multiple cameras, stage lights, a dazzled audience.

The interviewer, masterfully directing Jazz through the narrative with light and heavy topics and making sure to end on a high note.

Jazz, big movements, big personality, put on display like a thing to be marveled at.

A large grin that had been bothering Prowl the whole time because it is wrong. And now he knows it’s because it is fake.

When the interview ends and Jazz swims offstage, Prowl takes his arm and leads him away. Away from the crowds, the lights, the cameras. Just away. From everything. Anyone who even thinks of approaching the two as they leave take one look at Prowl's hard expression and become too scared to even try.

“While I enjoy swimming with you,” Jazz says when they are properly away from everyone, “is there a reason we left so quick?”

“You were uncomfortable.” Prowl answers.

“Is that so?” Jazz says, amused.

Prowl stops and turns to Jazz, stopping the other mer cold with a hard stare. “Yes, you were. You were putting on a show like it was still an obligation you owed for living somewhere when in reality you don’t owe anyone anything of yourself that you don’t want to give.”

The fact that Jazz looks shocked by this makes Prowl’s heart clench painfully.

Prowl takes both of Jazz’s large hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he says while giving his hands a reassuring squeeze, “that I didn’t see it sooner. You did so many interviews and I didn’t see how similar they were to that tank until now.”

“Wha- hey, no,” Jazz brings their hands closer to his chest. “don’t apologize for this when it wasn’t even your fault. They asked to hear my story and-“

“And you could’ve told them no.” Prowl interrupts. “You don’t have to do these things anymore. You can say no. You can leave off you want. You aren’t confined to a small space anymore with no escape and no privacy. You can say no.”

“I- I can say no.” Jazz whispers like it’s revelation straight from the vents below. “I can leave.”

“You don’t have to do things you don’t want.”

Jazz floats there, clutching Prowls hands to his chest like they’re a lifeline, as his gaze drifts down in thought. “What I want…”

Slowly, Jazz looks up at Prowl. “I want you to show me that Crystal Reef you were talking about.”

Prowl smiles. “This way then.”

-.-.-.-

Two of the things Jazz loves about Mer society are the pouches that he can carry stuff—his stuff—in and the phones. After years of seeing humans use them (filming him, taking pictures of him), he now has one of his very own. An underwater phone, a fish phone, a fone (“It’s funny Prowler, trust me.”). It’s awesome!

Not very awesome right this second though.

It’s vibrating, meaning someone is calling him. The screen only shows a frequency instead of a name, meaning it’s someone he doesn’t know.

He sees Prowl look at him curiously from where he’s been sunbathing next to him as Jazz answers.

“Hello?”

“Hello! I am Undertow, a reporter with The Tuning Trident. Is this Jazz?”

Jazz sits up. “Yeah, I’m Jazz.”

“Excellent!” Undertow says, chipper. “We have been working on an article covering your story and the trials you went through. We here at The Tuning Trident are dedicated to bringing our readers the most accurate information that we can provide and we were wondering if you could come over sometime within the next few days to answer a few questions we have about your experience.”

Jazz freezes. He…doesn’t really want to talk about it with reporters anymore. He’ll just have to politely turn them down.

Jazz opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His throat is suddenly dry. He swallows his trepidation and tries again. “Uh…”

Is that it? Is that all he can bring himself to say that isn’t a fake and enthusiastic agreement?

The reporter on the phone starts talking again. “Of course, if coming in is an inconvenience, we can have a small team come to you to conduct the interview. We are very flexible here, so whatever may be best for you, we can certainly work with!”

That was even worse! He didn’t want nosy strangers coming to his favorite spots!

But he still can’t say no.

His gaze flicks to Prowl, desperately and silently pleading for help.

Prowl sits up and holds his hand open to Jazz. Jazz gives him the phone.

“I regret to inform you,” Prowl says with no regret or remorse, “that Jazz won’t be doing any interviews for the time being.”

“It’ll just be a quick thing.” Undertow promises in a small tinny voice that Jazz can still hear. “Only a couple of questions to clarify a few facts.”

“No.”

“I- but- who is this? Who are you to speak for Jazz?”

“His manager.” Prowl's tone turns cold. “He is not available for an interview at this time.”

“Why not?”

“Jazz has his reasons and he doesn’t owe them to you. Good day.”

“Wait, if you could just tell us-“

“No.” Prowl hangs up. “The nerve of some Mer, it’s like they forgot that you're an apex- urk!”

Jazz hugs him, eyes shut tight, tucking his head into Prowl’s shoulder, and squeezes. “Thank you.” He whispers, voice wobbly.

Prowl returns the hug, using one hand to cradle Jazz’s head. “Of course. You deserve some peace.”

“I tried.” Jazz says to Prowl’s shoulder. “I wanted to say no. I tried but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get that one word out and I tried.”

“I know.” Prowl pats Jazz’s head through his beanie. “It’s okay. You keep trying. And until you are able, I can say no for you whenever you need.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

#Keferon #apocalyptic ponyo #tf Jazz #tf Prowl #merformers #maccadam #Having fun with this transformers au

408 notes · View notes

imsofreakingtired · 2 days ago

Note

Hi! First of all, I love your work so much, you have me crying and kicking my feet at the same time.

I'd like to put in a request for a plus-sized reader? If that's something you can do. Something about yearning from afar? She's so sweet and Sev's so not. She's worried she'd taint the pure soul she watches from across the bar only to find out the lamb wants the wolf just as bad.

(I low-key just want some plus-sized rep :/)

SUCH A CUTE REQ AAA also, “the lamb wants the wolf just as bad” WHAT A LINE HELLO??? i hope i did it justice 🙏

i wish i found love

content warning(s): none! just fluff, mutual pining, useless lesbians, mild suggestive content, happy ending

"sometimes i wonder if you'll ever let me in i wonder if i'm ever gonna find somebody i cry and i cry and i cry and i cry out to the heavens why won't you just send me somebody?"

Sevika is sure she is going insane.

She’d be lying if she said you didn’t catch her eye the moment you walked into the Last Drop that one night. There was something about the way you moved, the ringing song of your laughter that found its way across the room to her ears—a sound she desperately tried to ignore as she scowled down at her card game, puffing away at her third cigarette. She had lost two rounds in a row because she was straining for scraps of the conversation you were in. Trying every possible subtle tactic to find out who you were, where you came from. Cursing the noises of a late night bar that drowned out what you were saying.

Tonight is like most—there you are, sitting with a new companion on the other side of the bar, perfectly manicured nails tapping idly on the side of your glass as you give the other person a winning smile. When you stand up to order a second drink, Sevika watches your movements and swallows hard. You’re wearing a blouse and pants that hug your figure, showing off every curve in the shifting neon lights of the Last Drop. Making the very air around you look expensive.

And your eyes. Fathomless yet bright. The innocent curl of your lips when you give the lucky bastard across the table one of those smiles. The secrets sitting in the corners of your mouth.

Who is she?

“Hey chief,” says Grems, one of her gambling mates. “You’re showin’ all your cards.”

She glances at him. “Round’s over.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Clear out.”

The men exchange glances with one another, but they obey, grabbing up their winnings. Sevika sits back in her chair and lights another cigarette.

✨—✨

At the bar, you lean closer and beckon to Chuck. He comes over, glancing nervously in Sevika’s direction. Everyone can already see that Sevika has claimed you as hers—they can see the way she watches you, the way she raises her head to attention when she sees you come into the bar. But when he looks over at Sevika, she turns her head away.

“Chuck,” you say. “Don’t look so scared. She’s staring at me again, isn’t she?”

“Uh…”

You give him the irresistible smile you throw at strangers from whom you need information. He falls for it.

“C’mon, tell me. Who is she?”

“She…she’s Silco’s right hand,” he stammers. “You know. The Brute.”

You sigh impatiently. “Gotta give me better than that. What’s her name.”

“Sevika.”

“Sevika,” you muse. “Thanks, Chuck.” You pat him on the shoulder and take your drink. You make sure to walk the long way round back to your table, and you can feel Sevika’s grey eyes burn in front of you. Just as you pass her, you tilt your head and let your eyes make contact with hers. Time seems to slow down. She looks at you cooly through the cigarette smoke, but her surprise shows in the way her brows lift slightly.

Then the moment passes, you sit back down at your table.

Your companion continues the conversation, but you barely hear a third of what they’re saying. Your thoughts keep wandering over to Sevika, who has left her tab on her table and now disappeared up the stairs. You know for sure she’s interested—she’s been watching you since you first began to frequent the Last Drop—why hasn’t she made a move?

✨—✨

The truth is that Sevika is scared to approach you.

That’s right, she thinks to herself, a wry smile on her face as she leans back into the couch in her empty apartment, slightly sweaty after touching herself to you, heart racing in her chest. Sevika of the fucking fissures, scared to talk to a woman as if she's some adolescent.

She has borne the title Brute of the Underground like an afterthought, something she took for granted, a kind of placard to frame over the blood on her hands. But now it feels like a curse or a jinx, because she can’t think of your soft skin without thinking of the roughness of her own. She wants to feel your body against hers, she wants to kneel and drown in your sweet scent. But then she thinks of your laugh. The way you smile, nose wrinkling.

How could she ever deserve to receive a smile like that?

She imagines you recoiling from her, disgust clouding your pretty features. She imagines herself, massive and clumsy—nothing but muscle and scars and callused skin. She compares herself to you in a fantasized mirror and she can’t see a possibility of you ever wanting her the way she wants you.

One night she is at her usual table, alone for once, making adjustments to her mechanical arm. A glass of whiskey sits among the tools and ashtray. She looks up listlessly as she takes a sip, returns to her work. When she looks up again you’re standing in front of her.

Sevika nearly chokes. You’ve caught her off-guard, and you can see it. You can’t help but smile at her obvious embarrassment.

“Mind me sitting here?”

Without waiting for a reply, you sit down across from her.

“I work nearby,” you say matter-of-factly. “I was thinking since you come here often as well, maybe we could have a drink together every now and then.”

“Uh,” says Sevika.

“Name’s Sevika, right? I’ve gotta run now, but can I claim you tomorrow night?”

“Um.”

You take that as a yes. As you walk by her, she can smell the sweet scent of your hair. She doesn’t see the triumphant smile on your face as you leave the bar. She also realizes too late that she never got your name.

✨—✨

-> thank you @practicalgauntlet for the request! -> dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

#curvy women you are the goddesses that walk this mortal planet #i love u and sevika does too xx #song: i wish by hayley kiyoko #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika fluff #soft sevika #sevika #arcane #plus sized reader #femme reader

281 notes · View notes

twstfanblog · 3 days ago

Note

Heyyyyy so uhhhhh…

What if the mc back in their world was a slave? Not servant like jamil, just, straight up slave where their opinion didn’t matter :( n they r female, afab, pronounce she/they? Hopefully nothing bad happened but people who get slaves r bad people so :((( overblot boys pls 🙏🥺

I feel like they would all threaten crowley to absolutely NOT look for a way to send mc home n to stop making her do his things cause that reminds her of back home in a very bad way :(

N then they comfort n hold the mc cause they r safe n wont have to be treated like shit anymore :(

They will punch anyone who treats em like shit

Which practically everyone in school did when they arrived at NRC, and they just thought ‘this is normal’. :(

Overblot Boys React to Slave Reader

Overblot Boys x Reader

Riddle

Lowkey saw you as an ideal student. Polite, respectful, and mindful of the rules. So he wouldn't notice anything past a few odd ticks that he himself wouldn't fully question since his own upbringing was shitty.

It takes him and Ace having an argument, Riddle brings up that Ace can learn a thing or two from you on being a respectful student. And Ace fires back on you being a SLAVE. Of course, his overbearing ass would love that. And Riddle has to really think about what kinda person that makes him that he didn't even notice.

He talks to you, wanting personal confirmation on what Ace had blurted out. Once he gets the confirmation, his attitude gets much softer. You don't get as harsh treatment for rule-breaking, but he's still stern about them.

End game, he makes up a secondary set of rules for you only. Rules like 'We say something if we are uncomfortable' or 'We are allowed to say No'. He just gets much softer but remains true on rules being important. He just also stresses that you should have your own personal rules now.

Leona

Clocked immediately you came from a background of servitude, though he wasn't aware how severe it was.

He didn't plan on getting invovled but his little bleeding heart took Ruggie under his wing for a reason. It was one part pity and mostly annoyance seeing you getting bullied by his dorm everyday.

You basically get 'Leona's Servant' boot camp with Ruggie suddenly. He teaches you how Leona likes his laundry tended to and what snack flavors he prefers. It's a smooth transition from slave to servant until Ruggie tells you it's free game to steal from Leona.

Leona never brings it up, but he knows your old home was not a good environment. He also knows he can't just fling you into a healthier dynamic with those around you, so he'll do it slowly and sneakily. Ruggie is the perfect one to bridge the gap for him to start spoiling you.

Azul

Knew something was off but had no real frame of reference. He would make little theories and try to figure out why you act the way you do. He only started thinking you had come from a background of servitude when you follow orders so quickly.

Honestly doesn't know how to feel because he did do slavery in tricking the contracted students into working at the lounge against their will. He's not entirely sure how to save face with you after he's come across as a cruel and unfair slaver. Lowkey uses his overblot aftermath as an excuse for a fresh start with you.

He starts treating you kinder, making sure to address you properly and showing that he respects you. People from his dorm follow his lead, at least. The Tweels are part-time bodyguards, making your old bullies more hesitant to start anything because an eel might slip out of a crack or something.

Azul is a sneaky one too, slowly helping you raise your standard of how you should be treated by others. If you get him blabbing long enough, he'll slip into just stating how precious you are to him.

Jamil

I'm sorry, even with the English sanitation, Jamil’s situation can only come across as slavery to me. He's a very well cared for slave because Kalim adores him, but a slave none the less.

It's a little jarring to him to see someone who really could understand. But he's so used to keeping himself guarded he never reached out in a friendly sense. Treating you more like a new coworker; helpful but distant. It wasn't until you accidently broke something in Scarabia and nearly had a panic attack when Kalim looked at you does he realize how severe punishment was back in your world.

Gets much softer to you. It's sad because he does love and care about you, but he would not allow you to be with him long term. You've managed to come to a new world where your old masters can't reach you, you're free. Don't waste it following him back into a life of servitude.

Jamil would understand you the best so he'd be the one to really push and guide you to trying new experiences with your freedom. Wants you to be selfish and use your friends' kindness to make your life better. If he never gets his dream of being able to travel the world he wants you to be able to.

(Should the miracle happen and he and Kalim have the conversation finally, Jamil would go globe trotting with you. He legit has thoughts of just not going back and disappearing with you.)

Vil

I don't think he'd mean anything malicious by it. But he would end up treating you like a purse dog for a while.

Vil has a strong and cemented personality and sense of worth. Dealing with someone as passive as an abused slave, he would easily bulldoze over them and not really notice. Because he'd basically have you on the 'Betterment Plan' he has Epel.

He saw the potential and just kept going because you never said stop. Lots of beauty routines, he picks outfits for you for outings, basically has you as his shadow before either Rook or Epel bring up how he's running you ragged.

Vil never dealt with someone who's come from the situation you did. The very idea that 'No' wasn't a boundary you were ever allowed horrified him for a bit. But like the queen he is, he doesn't try to defend his misstep and goes right into correcting his behavior. The introduction of choices was the best start, but you slowly start saying no to events and choices and Vil couldn't be more delighted.

Idia

Lowkey, I'm not sure if he'd notice in any capacity until you told him point-blank. Idia is the one of the boys who sticks mostly to himself and he'd avoid you if he saw you constantly being hounded by other students.

But, if you managed to get close enough to him, he'd question why you always freeze up when your bullies call you? Why running isn't an option you take? And then you'd tell him about where you came from and how running never ended well for you or the other slaves...

He's not one I think would actively try to curb your behaviors but it would effect his own. Now when he sees you being bullied there's a high chance he'll use what power he has a housewarden to get them to leave. When he's sneaking around, he'll catch your eye and give the mental offer to come hide out in his room with him. He becomes a legit safe space for you to just breath since no one but Ortho really enters his room.

He's had to stop you multiple times from cleaning his room. Yes, it's a mess. No, you don't have to thank him by cleaning. Yes, he's aware you can also keep his stuff organized for him while you clean. You don't have to clean, you aren't his maid. (He is terrified he will ruin your friendship the second you find anything embarrassing under his piles of junk. Like a body pillow, or a 18+ comic, or a stray love note he wrote you-)

Malleus

Adorable you think the bonds of slavery from an unknown world matter to him. Malleus is...a prince, a crown prince at that. I don't think he has 'slaves' but with servants of royalty, I'm never really sure. But anyhow, this boy hasn't been told no enough in his life and it shows.

So when you try to back away from the friendship a bit under the fact of you being a slave and not...worthy of his princely company. He just decides you aren't a slave anymore. Just wills and speaks it into existence. There, it's fixed. You can continue being his beloved child of man, now come. He has a new gargoyle he wants to show you.

Fae to me have favorites, and they love to keep an eye on them. So god help some poor schmuck who tries to bully you into doing their work after Malleus has decided you don't do that anymore... You start saying No and leaving the situation with much more effectiveness because the other choice is Malleus making some poor student drop out for fear of their life.

Malleus canonically ignores the autonomy of others for his own gain. So it would be a really weird balance of him simply stating that you are your own being capable of choice and that your old-world status as a slave doesn't matter here. But with that new free status, you are also his best friend, who will come on night walks with him, talk with him, and make friendship bracelets.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #requests

165 notes · View notes

cxzsr · 2 days ago

Text

𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮..𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞? - 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱 𝐲𝐨𝐮

[𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨] [𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨] [𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦] [𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘭] [𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧!][𝘴𝘪𝘳 / 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭] [𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶] [𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦] [𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘭] [𝘢𝘧𝘢𝘣-𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳] [𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩] [𝘸𝘦𝘵, 𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘺] [𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳: 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘱𝘪𝘱𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘢𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘣/𝘣𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘢, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺]

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐢’𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫, 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝…𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞..𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐡𝐚..𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰 𝐦𝐞..

your mind kept racing..tossing and turning, these thoughts, that little voice in your head, it wouldn’t shut up. you figured caleb might be up so you decided to head to his room to cuddle with him, a big teddy bear was what he was and you needed him tonight. “can i just lay with you tonight?” you quietly called out to caleb as you were standing in the doorway of his bedroom. you were stiff, debating and going back and forth in your head about bothering him. ...he didn’t answer for a minute so you assumed he was in a deep slumber. you made your way over to him, crawling into bed behind him..it was pretty cute, you being the big spoon. caleb felt so comfortable, you kept pressing up on his bum and wrapped your arms around him, holding him as if he was your big plushie. he was stirring and shifting in his sleep, but you held him close to you, not wanting to let him go. as some time passed, you still couldn’t sleep, all you smelled was his scent, a mix of cinnamon and freshly baked apple pie..fuck he smelled divine, mixed in with his own personal musk. the two of you were obsessed with the smell of one another. but you were more intense with it, it dawned on you one day when you caught yourself humping your pillow while you had held his DAA jacket up to your nose..inhaling his scent. you couldn’t control your secret desires that day, putting the jacket beneath you, leaving your personal mark.

you were so fucking shy after you saw the stains you left on his jacket, throwing it in the wash quickly. he still doesn’t know and you don’t plan on telling him either, it embarrassed you a bit too much. all these memories started pouring back in of your little adventures with some of his clothes. it was setting you off, you couldn’t hold it in any longer and you were mindlessly grinding into his ass. “fuck that feels good” you hissed under your breath..you had on some black pajama shorts and a old tee, but the friction was intoxicating. you were wearing nothing beneath your clothes so it was like easy access for anyone. but you only wanted him, you craved him, his lingering touch, the way he’d slip his tongue into your mouth, how he’d caress the curve of your back. squeezing your ass even when you two are out in public, he wanted everyone to know that you were his, only his. he was madly in love and so were you, it was like the both of you would burn heaven, hell and earth just to be by each others side. but for some reason self-doubt just kept creeping in, those horrid thoughts that everything is a lie. this nagging feeling has been bothering you for months on end, ‘am i good enough’ ‘for him or anyone else’…constantly yelling and screaming at you. all you could do was just shake it off and try to lock it away.

“you like that angel?” caleb caught you off guard, that hoarse morning voice of his, you could tell he was groggy but he knew exactly what was happening. you stopped grinding on him abruptly as you heard his voice crack through the air like lightning. shock came over you and you realized how you were feral n’ humping his bum..you looked down between your legs and saw the wet spot on his grey shorts..you scooted away a little bit and looked at him. caleb turned around to face you, grinning at you as if what you did wasn’t enough to faze him. “I- i’m sorry caleb, i was…fuck..” you didn’t know how to lie yourself out of this one. this felt so embarrassing, your face was heating up rapidly, making you sweat a little.

“you were just what? huh pipsqueak? humping my ass?” he leaned towards you shaking his head chuckling and kissed your forehead softly.. “it’s alright bub..i didn’t say i didn’t like it. you act like you can’t come in here whenever the hell you want and do whatever the hell you want.” he winked at you..you knew consent was already enforced and that you both trust each other immensely.

you still felt that pang of guilt, feeling as if you’re too much sometimes, that he wouldn’t appreciate you being bold or taking the lead. caleb saw those wires firing up in your head as you fought your own thoughts. “baby c’mere…” caleb opened his arms inviting you to come closer, you hesitated for a moment but then you went over to him. as you embraced him, there was this heavy sigh of relief, you felt like you made it home and landed safely. “i love you pipsqueak..please understand that. i’m always going to be here, no matter what.” he made sure to enunciate every word and make it clear to you. you felt so protected, to be in his arms, feeling him wrapped around you “i know i tease you a lot angel but that doesn’t mean ill poke fun at my girl when she’s feeling down.” caleb caressed your eyebrows, gently tracing them with his fingertips.

nothing could ever take you away from him, you’re all he sees, looks forward to. the way you let yourself be unapologetically you is what he loves the most, nothing will ever change it. he couldn’t understand why you’d put yourself down like this. caleb pulled away gently, scanning your face trying to see what was running through your head. you kept avoiding his eyes..those beautiful purple eyes that were always so hard to gaze at. the way he looked at you with such intensity always made you feel uneasy. “bub, look at me…what’s happenin’ up there in that lil noggin of yours? you can talk to me.” before you spoke up, your were fiddling with the comforter, pinching and pulling at it. he instantly recognized your discomfort but he didn’t say anything, he let you take your time to gather your thoughts together. “caleb…i’ve been having dark thoughts again…really terrible thoughts, my inner voice has just been bullying me lately.” caleb reached out to rub your back…those heavy warm hands soothing that tension radiating from your back. “angel, are you embarrassed for waking me up by-“

“no no no..it’s just..i feel like im behind, i know i have so much to be grateful for and i understand that but i genuinely feel like im not doing enough for myself or anyone else..” you raised your head…still avoiding him. you just stared at the door, thinking of your escape plan from this annoying conversation. you felt like you weren’t doing enough for him deep in your heart, but you didn’t feel the urge to tell him.

“please look at me pipsqueak.” caleb gently turned your head towards him, his grip was firm though.

“i don’t want to do this right now caleb! i can’t, i don’t even know how to articulate what i want to say when…when i feel like no one will truly listen to me” your face was heated, it felt like someone put you into a human sized oven. it was always like this when you were anxious, your mouth getting drier and parched. your palms were sweating, how your throat felt like you swallowed a full bag of pebbles, it was tight. you couldn’t take it anymore, especially the lingering feeling that’s been sitting with you for months..feeling like you’re. not. good. enough. caleb was getting frustrated but not at you, at whatever was making you feel this way, he couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault, like it was his responsibility to find the culprit and teach them a lesson. but the culprit was your brain, those limiting thoughts you believed more than the man who was sitting right in front of you…

he finally spoke up “who is it?” caleb had that look in his eyes. the look of someone who’s plotting, calculating their next move. he had that dangerous menacing glare in his eyes.

you grabbed his hand “caleb! you don’t need to do anything to anyone, i can already see you’re getting ideas..” you had to reassure him, making it crystal clear “and it’s no one, well it’s nothing physical…not unless you can fight my inner demons tormenting me.” you laughed dryly, you saw no amusement relishing in your own pain and sorrow. he knew there was no way to fight your mean inner thoughts, he knew there was nothing he could physically do except just being there for you. “well even though i cant fight them, we can work together and i can have a little chitchat with that brain of yours.” you scoffed, little giggles escaping your lips.

“youre gonna have a chitchat with them babe?”

“hell yes! scoot over, let me sit in front of you.” he shifted himself on the bed, caleb held your hands. he was so delicate and soft, it made you feel even more safe and protected knowing he was there, he was here. “okay my love…now listen here mean brain torturing my sweet angels thoughts…” caleb got himself into it. he was talking to your forehead as if it was a human being getting a lecture from their parent. after a while of him using his best effort to wash away your thoughts he rested his head on yours. you could feel his pain, it hurt him…the way you were feeling, its something he always tried to help you block out, but he could only do so much on his end.

it never lasted though, they would creep back into your mind, making you spiral and overthink. he knew that the overwhelming thoughts would eventually lead to you questioning his motives and how he truly felt about you. even though he expressed it every day, at any moment that he could see you, that ‘i love you’ meant more than words could even explain. although it was sweet hearing it, after looking out for yourself for so long and finally having him here wth you, you still believed that it was going to be short-lived, like all of this would be taken away within seconds. caleb kissed your forehead, as tears kept spilling from your eyes, you couldnt hold it in any longer…”caleb i love you so fucking much but i feel-“ he cut you off, interrupting. “listen here angel, no matter what demented thought that comes up about me, having you question my love for you…know that its bullshit.” he stated it so bluntly. “and i dont mean that in a derogatory way either, what i mean is that im right here, im right fucking here baby, and knowing that even though im sitting in front of you, those thoughts still continuously throwing you down this hole making you doubt yourself. im still going to be right here.” he went on… ”we dont have to do anything tonight okay? just lay here with me, let yourself be here with me..okay?” you cupped his face while your other hand was still holding onto caleb’s. “okay baby…okay..” caleb couldn’t help himself, leaning in to shower your face with light kisses, it brought a light smile to your cute face.

as you felt his soft lips on your cheeks, temple, nose, and chin..he stopped for a brief moment in front of you. his eyes boring into yours, he leaned in, pressing a gentle sweet kiss on your lips. caleb didnt want to let go of you, not now and not ever, you were his and his only.. ”fuck baby, i love you i love you i love you, please, dont shut me out, i will always be here and i mean that, for eternity, until we both grow old and wrinkle, watching our grandchildren. i. fucking. love. you.” your heart was swelling with emotion, you were almost sure it was about to pop out like a chestburster.

“caleb…fuck, i know you dont want to feel like youre taking advantage of me in this vulnerable state but..” under your breath whispering “but i want you baby, i want you so bad…please..” you were basically begging him. but that begging, coming from that pretty little mouth of yours, it made him grunt under his breath, but it was barely audible. you saw this as a need more than a want.

“yo- you want me?” it surprised you that he struggled to get what he wanted to say out “in what way pipsqueak? enlighten me..” ‘did he want me to vocalize it and tell him my desires?’ that made your body tense up, overthinking what he wanted from you. as you were lost in your own world, you didnt even notice him lean down, whispering in your ear “remember how you woke me up?” realization set in, you did come into his room to lay down with him, but instead your horny ass ended up humping his ass. recalling the wet stain you had left on his shorts.. “you- you want me to hump you?” now you were all flustered, your face felt all flushed out. “theres no need to be embarrassed my love, i actually liked it, feeling your sexy ass grinding on me…leaving your lil mark on my shorts..hmm” he was making you blush hard, biting your lip unconsciously. caleb laid back on the headboard, sitting up so he could see you. he needed to see your face, how your body moves atop him, seeing your hips roll and thighs clenching around him.

“go ahead love, come over here and stop bein shy.” caleb reached out to grab your arm softly, pulling you closer to him so you could get on top and straddle him. “like this baby?” he felt your weight on him, enjoying the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his, feeling the heat of your pussy made his dick rise. little did you know, he wasnt wearing any underwear underneath his shorts either. “fuck caleb, i can already feel you poking me, are you sure?”

“mhmm, fuck yes princess..go ahead..show me, and dont fucking hold back. i want to feel you. i want to see you unravel and get messy for me, mmkay?” he came closer, landing a soft kiss on your lips, moving his hand to your hip encouraging you to grind into him.

you began to work your hips, starting off slowly..to keep you present and in the moment he kept kissing you, and only held his hands on your ass, squeezing them, gripping your bottom. “aah, fuck caleb, like that yeah?” as you both released each other for a moment he said “mhm, mhmm just like that baby…”he kept groaning into your mouth”just like fucking that.” you could feel your pussy starting to leak, your own arousal pooling, making you feel gushy as you kept humping his hard dick. it was like this man couldnt stop growing, the more you kept grinding on him, his dick was getting harder and thicker, that hard feeling pressing into you made your hips twitch, he was hitting your clit through your shorts. “that feeling” you whined, “oh fuck that feeling!”

“what feeling baby?” he pretended as if he didnt know what he was doing to you, a smug smirk plastered on his beautiful face. “dont play like that caleb, you know exactly what the hell im talking about.” you kept panting, your bodies heating up becoming slick with sweat. he could see the tiny droplets on your forehead and licked your face, this fucking guy! “caleb ew! why would you do that”

he looked at you amused, you dont like that bbay?” he chuckled, “every part of you tastes sweet baby, even your sweat.” gosh, you didnt realize how obsessed he was with you. “well thats good to know i guess hehe..” he pulled you down on him harder, holding your hips firmly, you knew there were gonna be some slight bruising once he was done with you, even though his grip hurt a little, it added even more pleasure to the experience. that grip he had on you was telling you how much hes been holding back, how much hes been feigning for you. “ohhh fuck baby! you feel so fucking good, let me see more of you..please? i wanna look at your breasts baby.” he lifted your tee, revealing your swollen breasts. your nipples poking out, caleb groaned at the sight of you, instantly grabbing your titties. he was taking it all in, the way your hips were rolling and grinding into him, both of you were mutually soaked, you could feel the wet pre-cum leaking through his shorts and he could feel you, your shorts were ruined, it was an obvious fact, but you craved more. “bubba..i wanna, i want us to watch each other cum.” you were insinuating having a session of mutual masturbation, you wanted to watch him cum on himself as he watches you play with your pussy until you’re dripping wet. “you sure angel?” that idea had him going insane on the inside but he had to keep himself cool in front of you so he didn’t come off as some impatient hornball.

“fuck yes im sure!” as soon as you said that he helped you take off your tee and shorts, revealing your beautiful body…then you did the same with him. “youre so gorgeous baby, oh my god let me hold you like this..just for a moment.” you agreed and you both hurriedly embraced one another, feeling each others sweaty bodies, the scent of each others arousal lingering in the air, making it even more intoxicating and intense.

“okay, get in front of me bub.” caleb held you in position with his evol so you didnt feel any back pain while you were sitting up. it was uncomfortable at first but then your body eased into it, letting go of that tense feeling. you spread your legs revealing your soppy wet pussy, the way he fucking hissed at the sight of you opening up for him made your tummy flutter and tighten up. caleb was already stroking his dick, fuck he looked so sexy to you. both of you were slow and deliberate with it, not wanting to rush anything at all, just dragging it out. as he was stroking his cock, you let your hand drift to your entrance, playing with your wetness, you felt yourself and it was surprising how wet you were because of him.

“caleb look” you held up your fingers, spreading and parting them showing him how sticky and wet you were. “can i have a taste baby?” he gave you no time to answer and pulled you even closer with his evol, bringing your arm up so your hand was positioned right in front of his mouth, caleb leaned in and sucked your fingers clean, moaning at the taste of you, grunting because he wanted to be inside of you, pounding your pussy as he heard your naughty noises coming from down there. he never expressed it too much but he loved the sound of you, every fucking part of you, even the most nastiest of noises coming from your pussy as he slams his dick into your wet heat. he released the hold of your arm and lt you touch yourself again. you were slowly circling your clit, that gentle rub, nothing too intense or hard. as you were going at your own pace lost in thought, caleb saw how your eyes were shut and your legs were beginning to close slightly. you were daydreaming in your own land. “eyes over here pipsqueak!”

“hmm?!” he pulled you out of your thoughts, looking a bit jealous bc whatever you were thinking about had your pussy fucking creaming and leaking, creating a wet spot on the sheets beneath you. looking at you with a firm smile “i said…eyes. over. here…don’t make me say it again..” his tone was low, menacing even, why the hell is he acting all weird..?

you caught his gaze, trying your best to keep those beautiful eyes of yours open…”is this better colonel?” you tested him, he liked the idea of being ahead and in an authoritative position but right now, he was just caleb to you nothing else but only your caleb, and he wanted to remind you of that. “much better pipsqueak…god you’re fucking adorable..look at how drenched you are” he didn’t have to tell you, your fingers were insanely wet. you then decided to slide down further and slip a two fingers in, slowly pumping your fingers in and out of your cunt. seeing the way your whole body was squirming set him off, you could see dribbles of cum leaking from his tip but he didn’t fully orgasm yet. he wanted to know something “so what were you thinking about?” you gave him a cheeky smile, he knew you were about to spill, but then you hesitated a moment before you opened your mouth again “you really wanna know? nosy..”

“yes i wanna know, you’re fucking soaked angel, so what was it..let me into your mind.” caleb was eager to hear you say it aloud…the way his eyes never left yours, fuck..he always had to make it so hard and especially in a moment like this. where you’re both vulnerable and naked, alone in the dimly lit room, he was driving you crazy. “i was thinking about you…you taking me…but in my ass..” fuck that was unexpected…you swear you saw his dick twitch as he heard that “ohhh so you’re into anal huh? no need to be shy with me babygirl..keep that thought in your head, i want you to let your mind wander and create that image of us together. me slowly sliding in and out of that tight hole…your pussy clenching around nothing, just dripping onto the bed…keep that that thought in your head princess.” as he let you close your eyes and drift off into your daydream…caleb pumped his dick harder, squeezing his shaft, imagining exactly what you told him. all you could hear were the filthy sounds of your pussy and his dick squelching as you both let yourselves fall into this deep abyss of lusting after one another. you were tensing up, the way your mind was so imaginative, seeing the entire scene in the darkness, those images forming together in your mind, you didn’t even hear him panting “fuck fuck fuck angel…i’m- i’m about to fucking cum! i’m gonna cum for you my love…all for you…” it was blocked out…grinding your hips into your own touch, the feel of your slick cunt making you more insatiable, chasing that beautiful release…

“CALEBBB…please…bubba pleaseee…” but what were you saying please to? you’re whining and sobbing but he isn’t even inside you. but the thought of him fucking you in the ass is too real, seeing him lube you up..taking his time with you. seeing him delicately kiss your shoulders from the back, trailing his hand down the curve of your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples “mmm…FUCK! i can’t baby, i cant-“ you heard his sweet voice “yes you can angel.” you opened your eyes to see him right next to you, he let you go, letting you fall into his arms as his evol vanished…your body felt lighter. caleb was holding you tightly as you kept circling your clit, picking up so much speed. “let me do it baby, i’ll finger you and you can keep playing with that pretty pussy…mkay.” you looked up at him innocently biting your lip nodding “yes sir..”

he admired your submissiveness and praised you “ugh you’re such a good girl for me huh? my good little princess??” he gently slapped your face with his other hand, then grabbed you, leaning in closer to plant a wet kiss on your lips. he lowered his voice some “you wanna cum on my fingers while you make out with me angel?” you couldn’t help yourself, feral like some horny dog, grinding on his fingers as you kept rubbing your clit “yes! oh my god yes please…please baby…don’t stop…” he chuckled lightly at your response, pressing his lips on yours again but longer this time. the both of you were in such an intense trance. you couldn’t hold it in any longer, the mix of him finger fucking you, your fingers circling your clit and the way he held you as you both were sloppily making out. it all made you squirm, that tight feeling was there again, “cal- cale- caleb im gonna cum! you’re gonna make me fucking cum…please…plea..!” as he whispered against your lips, still fingering you with that slow deliberate pace “then cum baby, i want to feel your pussy clench around me..go on baby..cum.”

”oohh fuck! fuck! CALEB IM-!!” as your orgasm crashed through you, his dick was already hardening up again… “atta fucking girll!” he felt it, the way your whole body jolted, how you were shivering against him…he fucking loved every damn second of it, but to drag it out even more as you took your fingers off your clit because of the sensitivity. caleb kept fucking you with his fingers…adding a third to stretch you out more…watching you cream all over them…

“caleb! it’s tooo…it’s too much!” you begged him to give up and let you go but he kept overstimulating you, your bodies reaction to him was lighting a fire under his ass. he couldn’t get enough of seeing you like this. in such a mocking tone “it’s too muchh?? but you were just begging me for more pipsqueak..i know you have a few more in there for me huh?” all you could do was let your body succumb and surrender to him, that’s all he wanted, to see you let it go. “i know you can do it my love…” he impatiently kissed you…watching you whimper and squirm was such a beautiful treat.

it went on until it was light outside…the sun peeking in through the sheer curtains..showing off that golden glow to your skin, showcasing how much of a mess you both made. caleb spent some time admiring how your folds looked, all puffy and wet. the scent of you filled the room, he didn’t want to creep you out, but he kept inhaling your pussy like an addict “you’re so mesmerizing princess, i could watch you like this all day and never get bored of it.”

he cleaned you up afterwards, drawing you a warm bath, he didn’t want you lifting a finger after how many times he made you fucking cum back to back. you were really sensitive but it felt nice soaking in the water with him…being able to cuddle with him and get all wrinkly together..

“please never have to feel like you can’t confide in me my love..please…don’t ever forget that angel..” he was sitting behind you, petting your soaked hair “i love you pipsqueak…i want you to seriously understand that from the deepest depths of my heart, i mean it with every fiber of my entire fucking being, i don’t care how cliche it sounds…i fucking love you..” you both spent the rest of the morning snuggling together, hearing the his heart beat, it brought a sense of peace to your mind…feeling clearer and lifted…caleb felt like home, your safe haven.

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐥..𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞…𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐥

#caleb love and deepspace #caleb x reader #caleb x you #lads caleb #love and deepspace #lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #caleb smut

144 notes · View notes