#aakesh

[elmaxlys]

I'm going back to my roots (drawing people asleep on each other)

[ganeshacasinos]

Aakesh Mahajan

Aakesh Mahajan is the creative mind behind ganeshacasinos.in’s engaging content. A skilled screenwriter and copywriter, he simplifies complex casino concepts into engaging narratives. His writing blends entertainment and education, catering to novices and veterans alike, making the site a top resource for players.

Location - D-14/2, Pocket D, Okhla Phase I, New Delhi, Delhi 110020, India

website: https://ganeshacasinos.in/author/aakeshmahajan/

[baekchelor]

Off Script

pairings: Drew Starkey x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, Drew Starkey, discovers an undeniable truth: that the line between fiction and reality is thinner than he ever imagined.

◄ ᴘʀᴇᴠ

One | Star-Crossed from the Start

The first read-through for Dharma takes place three weeks later at a film studio in Los Angeles. Although Drew let Maddie crash at his place last night, he didn’t even bother to say goodbye when he slipped out of the apartment early that morning. She was still fast asleep on the wrong side of the bed, and he had no reason to stay. He liked to be early, and leaving a pot of coffee ready on the kitchen counter didn’t fit with a no-strings-attached situation.

When Drew arrives, the only people there are Greta Gerwig and a few staffers. The crowd outside, however, is another story—his fans have gathered, screaming declarations of love and waving signs.

“Y/N’s not here yet,” Drew remarks as his tired blue eyes scan the room. He’d hoped to catch her before the reading. Since they hadn’t done a chemistry test, he wanted a chance to introduce himself before diving into the scene.

“She’ll show,” Alma reassures him with a knowing smile, already handing him a cup of coffee like she does every morning. Drew chuckles—his manager’s predictability is comforting. “I heard Joe Burrow’s private jet landed from Cincinnati last night.”

That gets a laugh out of Drew. Alma’s a great manager, but she’s also the biggest gossip in Hollywood. When she called to tell him he’d landed the part in Dharma, she filled him in on every juicy detail the media had published about Y/N and Joe Burrow’s notoriously private relationship.

Alma shrugs, feigning innocence as she watches him sip his coffee. Lowering her voice to a whisper meant only for his ears, she adds, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she slept with him last night. But she won’t be sleeping in.”

Drew raises an eyebrow, intrigued. Alma’s lips curl into a sleepy yawn. “Apparently, she’s always on the dot. Never early, never late.”

Amused, Drew checks his phone. Nine o'clock. “Thirty more minutes, then,” he says, placing the phone down next to his script. “Let’s time her.” Alma chuckles, shaking her head, and Drew plays it cool, pretending to savor his coffee with exaggerated delight before flipping open the script.

Dharma is set in 1857 India. The story focuses on Aakesh, a penniless Hindi boy—played by Dev Patel—who believes his low social status is a consequence of bad karma from a past life. Y/N is playing Marina, a wealthy Spaniard, whom Aakesh imagines to be his reincarnated lost love, the very person responsible for his quest to redeem his karma. Drew’s character, James Barlow, comes into the picture when Colonel Edmund Thorn (portrayed by Michael Fassbender), Marina’s concerned fiancé, assigns him as her personal guard when the Indian rebellion ensues. James and Marina fall in love.

As Drew thumbs through the middle of the script, where the plot thickens, it hits him just how demanding this role will be. His character’s love for Marina is expressed not through words, but through quiet, intense glances and subtle gestures—he’ll need to convey a deep, unspoken devotion, stronger than anything he’s played before.

INT. JAMES' ROOM - MIDNIGHT, 1857 The room is cloaked in darkness, save for a faint sliver of moonlight that slips through the heavy curtains. The shadows of two figures are etched upon the wall, their forms entwined in a moment that feels both eternal and fleeting. MARINA, delicate and ethereal in her simple nightgown, stands enveloped in the arms of JAMES. Her braided hair spills over her shoulders, catching the pale light. She is a vision of vulnerability, her small frame trembling against his solid, unyielding presence. JAMES, his eyes shut tight, clings to her as though she might vanish into the night. His grip tightens, his heart pounding as if it might burst from his chest. The air is thick with the weight of unspoken words and the ache of impending separation. MARINA (whispering, her voice trembling) I do love you. Tears slip silently down her cheeks, glistening in the moonlight. She does not sob, but the quiet sorrow in her voice is enough to shatter the stillness. MARINA (softly, almost pleading) I am in love with you. James exhales sharply, as though her words have struck him to his core. His eyes remain closed, but he leans down, pressing his lips to the crown of her head in a kiss that lingers—a silent vow, a desperate plea. His hand rises to cradle her face, his touch tender yet urgent. He tilts her chin upward, his lips hovering just above hers, the space between them charged with longing. The kiss begins softly, a tentative brush of lips that speaks of reverence and fear. But then, as if some unseen force has unleashed their restraint, it deepens. Their mouths meet with a hunger that defies reason, a desperate attempt to hold onto what they know they must soon lose. Marina’s tears mingle with the kiss, but neither pulls away. The moment is too precious, too fragile. JAMES (whispering against her lips, his voice trembling) I shall return to you. I swear it. There is a pause, heavy and suffocating. The room seems to hold its breath, the distance between their hearts already widening despite the closeness of their bodies. JAMES (voice breaking, barely audible) I love you.

The words hang in the air, soft yet final, as though this moment is all they will ever have. The moonlight bathes them in its cold glow, a silent witness to a love that dares not speak its name.

Drew closes his eyes, trying to immerse himself in character. He imagines speaking to someone he desperately loves, picturing Maddie—her thick, ash-blonde hair, her smiling eyes, the pink warmth of her cheeks, and the heat of her mouth when they kiss.

It feels almost like cheating, though, because his character is supposed to be in love with Marina, and though Maddie is a girl he enjoys spending time with, he’s not in love with her.

Drew sighs, the breath escaping him in a long, labored stream.

“Everything all right?” The voice is sweet, with a slight upward lilt—a little hesitant but trying not to show it.

Drew looks up. There she is. Y/N Y/L/N stands before him, dark-haired and flushed, her shy expression soft and warm.

“Oh, hello there,” Drew says, shaking himself from his thoughts. He stands and extends a hand, his smile easy but his eyes curious. “Drew.”

“I know,” she giggles, shaking his hand. Her palm is warm, while his is cool. “Y/N. I’m very, very pleased to meet you.”

Drew feels a bit sheepish at that, though he tries not to show it. “Likewise,” he says, his voice warm as their hands fall back to their sides.

“Drew’s been pacing around all morning,” Alma cuts in, her tone dry but teasing as she steps forward. She extends her hand to Y/N, her sharp eyes flicking between the two of them. “I’m Alma, by the way—Drew’s manager, babysitter, and occasional therapist.”

Y/N laughs, a bright, genuine sound that seems to light up the room. “Nice to meet you, Alma. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“You have no idea,” Alma says, shooting Drew a pointed look before turning back to Y/N with a smirk. “But don’t worry, he’s on his best behavior today. Mostly.”

Drew rolls his eyes, though there’s no real annoyance in it. “Thanks, Alma. Really selling me here.”

Y/N's eyes twinkle as she shrugs, playfully coy, “Don’t worry, I’ve heard worse.” Her tight little skirt, which Drew is sure Daisy owns too, looks far better on Y/N. “Look at us getting along,” she says, her eyes transforming into crescent moons. “I must confess, I came prepared to break the ice.” She pauses, pursing her lips, then laughs. “Sorry, that sounded like we’re going on a blind date or something.”

Drew laughs too—her giggles are infectious, and it is kind of funny. “We kinda are? We’re playing star-crossed lovers and didn’t even do a chemistry test. I’m pretty much going into this blind.”

“Aren’t we?” Y/N says, clearly relieved to find someone in the same boat. “I was talking to Dev earlier—apparently, he thinks we’ll have great chemistry.”

Drew chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “My friend Chase said the same thing. He’s convinced we’ll be the next big on-screen couple.” He pauses, his tone turning teasing. “Though I think Joe might have something to say against it.”

Y/N laughs, her hand instinctively flying to the “J” pendant hanging from her necklace. “Oh, please. Joe doesn’t care about Hollywood gossip. Especially not during football season.” 

Drew raises an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “You sure about that?” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, but her smile doesn’t fade. “Trust me, he’s fine. If anything, he’d probably just joke about it and say I’m downgrading from a Super Bowl champion to… well, you.” 

Drew clutches his chest in mock offense. “Ouch. And here I thought we were bonding. Guess I’ll have to step up my game.” 

Y/N grins, her fingers still brushing the pendant. “Good luck with that. He’s kind of a big deal.”

 Drew leans forward, his tone playful but curious. “Big enough to handle sharing you with the world for a few months? Because if this movie hits—and it will—you and I are going to be everywhere.” 

Y/N’s smile softens, and she shrugs. “He’ll be fine.” 

Drew nods, his expression thoughtful. “Fair enough. But if he starts giving me the stink eye at premieres, I’m blaming you.” 

Y/N laughs, her hand dropping from the pendant. “Deal. But don’t worry—he gives the stink eye to everyone.” 

Before Drew can respond, Greta chimes in, appearing seemingly from nowhere. “I knew you’d have natural chemistry,” she says, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s cheek. “Still on time, huh? You never change.”

“It’s all on Sal,” Y/N giggles, referring to Salvatore, her very Italian manager who’s laughing in the far corner, talking to the staff. Drew is only half-listening, his mind still occupied with Y/N's easy charm. He can’t seem to shake the feeling that she has some sort of magnetic presence.

The conversation shifts toward Y/N's last movie, The Selection, where she and Tom Holland bring the bestselling book to life. Drew remembers vaguely that Holland plays a prince, while Y/N's character competes for his heart. It’s not Drew’s kind of movie—he’s pretty sure it’s a bit cringe-worthy—but for some odd reason, he’s decided to watch it when he gets home. Maybe Maddie won’t be there, and he’ll grab some beer and popcorn, settling into the couch for a few hours of forgettable entertainment.

Drew checks his phone discreetly. Nine thirty-five. He and Y/N have been talking for about five minutes. He smirks inwardly.

Right on the dot, he thinks, recalling Alma’s words. Then he hears his name.

“Pardon?” Drew asks, a little startled.

Y/N smiles sheepishly. “I’m going to go sit with Dev. Catch up with you later?”

“Yeah, of course,” Drew says, his tone betraying a hint of reluctance,“Do what you need to do.”

Greta calls for everyone to take their seats around the actors’ table. By luck, Dev and Y/N’s seats are right across from the one labeled Starkey. Drew slides into his chair and places his phone back on the table.

As Y/N walks toward Dev, she turns over her shoulder with a playful smile. “Talk to you later, then, Heartbreak Prince.”

“Heartbreak Prince?” he says, flipping back to the first page of the script. He folds the cover back neatly, his eyes asking the question.

Y/N gestures toward the window where the sound of fans chanting his name still echoes through the street. “Seems fitting.”

Drew laughs softly,“Seems fair.” Then, rubbing his palm over the script, he decides, on a whim, to give her a nickname, too. But he abandons the idea last minute. So, he just laughs.

“Okay,” she says, walking backwards, her hands entwined. “Let’s have fun today, Heartbreak Prince.”

EXT. GARDEN - MORNING, 1857 The garden is a sanctuary of tranquility, bathed in the soft golden light of the morning sun. Tall palm trees stand sentinel at the edges, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze. At the center, a grand basin of emerald water glistens, its surface catching the light like a jewel. Paths lined with blooming pink roses wind through the garden, their fragrance perfuming the air. The scene is serene, almost otherworldly, as though time itself has paused to admire its beauty. EDMUND and MARINA stroll side by side, their steps unhurried, their presence a quiet harmony. Edmund’s hands are clasped behind his back, his posture upright yet relaxed. His gaze is tender, fixed upon Marina with an affection that is both gentle and unwavering. Marina walks with her eyes lowered, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. A soft, almost shy smile plays upon her lips, betraying the contentment she feels in this shared moment. As they walk, Edmund’s eyes catch sight of a single blossom clinging to a nearby tree. He pauses, bending gracefully to pluck it from its branch. He holds it out to Marina, his smile warm and sincere. EDMUND (softly, with admiration) No flower in this garden is as fair as my beloved. Marina’s gaze lifts to meet his, her smile deepening as she accepts the blossom. Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, but carries the weight of genuine feeling. MARINA (gently) And no heart in this world is as kind as thine. The words hang in the air, sweet and sincere. Yet, unbeknownst to her, in but a few weeks, she will come to learn the bitter truth of her own words. Edmund halts their walk, his expression growing more earnest. He gently takes her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. With deliberate care, he presses her hand to his chest, right over his heart. His gaze never wavers from hers. EDMUND (solemnly) This heart is no longer mine. It is thine. His voice is steady, but there is a depth of emotion in his words that cannot be ignored. He pauses, as if to ensure she feels the truth of his declaration. EDMUND (continuing, his tone softer) In all my thirty years, no woman has laid claim to it. But you, Marina... you have claimed it entirely.

Marina looks up at him, her eyes searching his. For a moment, the world around them fades—the garden, the breeze, the distant rustle of leaves. There is only the two of them, and the unspoken promise that hangs between their intertwined hands.

A spark of love passes between them, silent yet undeniable. The moment is tender, fragile, and brimming with the hope of what could be.

“Flirty Thirty.”

A gleam in her eye, a quirk of her lip, and it’s no longer Marina speaking. It’s Y/N, tittering playfully.

The room erupts in laughter. Drew laughs the hardest of all, his amusement genuine.

“Y/N,” Greta chides half-heartedly, her tone more fond than strict. “Don’t break character.”

“Sorry, G,” Y/N replies sweetly, her smile full of innocent mischief. “I just thought I’d break the ice.”

Somehow, Drew finds himself smiling too.

_

Today marks the fourth official Dharma read-through, and the tenth time they’ve gone over the entire script. Drew understands why Y/N is antsy; he feels it too. He can’t wait to start filming in Mumbai—to inhale the chaotic, spicy air of the streets, to hear the fast-paced hum of Hindi in the background. He’s eager to feel James settle in his bones, the character enveloping him, becoming flesh and blood with each take.

The fact is, read-throughs are dull. So damn repetitive. Drew is just glad he has the perfect distraction in Y/N to make things bearable.

Gerwig sighs in resignation. “Let’s break for lunch,” she announces, addressing the entire group. “Reconvene in an hour.”

Drew catches Y/N’s eye and mouths, Padella? Y/N nods vigorously, flashing two thumbs up and a bright, infectious smile—the one Drew’s grown especially fond of.

“I'm starving,” Drew mutters a few minutes later as they walk toward the nearest Italian restaurant.

“Same here,” Y/N agrees, grinning. “Two more read-throughs, then India, here we come!”

“But we go through the script three times each meeting,” Drew half-whines, half-sniggers at Y/N’s dramatic eye-roll. “We’ll probably take even longer than usual today because of your little adlib.”

“Sorry...” Y/N shrugs playfully.

“It was fun, though.” Drew’s hand instinctively reaches to ruffle the hair at the top of Y/N’s head. He’s not sure why he does it, but the impulse is too strong to resist. He just hopes it doesn’t make her uncomfortable. “Not a lot of laughs in this love story of ours.”

Y/N doesn’t bother smoothing down her messy hair. “Have you ever loved someone that much?”

“Uhm…” Drew hesitates, his fingers instinctively brushing through his fringe. He can feel the strands falling just a little too long, and the thought of needing a trim before the live shoots nags at him. Shifting uncomfortably, his gaze drops for a moment before meeting Y/N's eyes again. “I don’t think so,” he says slowly, his voice softening. “Their love… it’s not something you see every day. It’s like—I don’t know—it’s hard to even describe.”

He pauses, his mind drifting to the script, to the quiet intensity of James and Marina’s connection.

“It’s the kind of love that consumes you, you know? It’s not just about passion or romance—it’s deeper than that.”

He doesn't comment further, Drew’s thoughts are already elsewhere. He’s thinking about Y/N, about the way their own dynamic has started to blur the lines between fiction and reality.

“Yeah,” Y/N murmurs, watching him absently. Her voice is soft, almost wistful, as if she’s caught in the same current of thought. “It is.”

He wants to say something, to break the silence, but the words catch in his throat. Instead, he offers a small, almost imperceptible smile, one that she returns with a quiet understanding.

When they reach the restaurant, the waiter, clearly a fan of Y/N’s, greets them enthusiastically.

“You two are so good-looking,” she gushes, but Drew knows the compliment is aimed at Y/N. The waiter, whose name tag reads Flo, is just being polite by including him in the praise. “You get more and more dashing every time I see you.” Y/N offers her the prettiest smile, and Flo beams, thrilled at the reaction she got out of her. Drew would be thrilled too if Y/N smiled at him that way...

<<What?>>

Padella has become a familiar haunt. After the first read-through—when Drew discovered Y/N’s favorite food was any type of pasta—it became their regular spot. Always ordering something new to try and two glasses of wine. Not exactly keeping in line with their diets, but Drew figures these cheat days won’t hurt.

In record time, Flo brings their dishes, leaving a courtesy starter on the table. Drew twirls his fork through the fettuccini, the satisfying, gooey sound as the pomodoro sauce mixes with the pasta making his mouth water.

“Oh, right, if I may,” Drew says. Y/N hums in response, mixing the contents of her own plate. “Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? I’m having dinner with Madelyn Clyne—she’s a very good friend of mine—and she’s cooking carbonara.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N looks up from her dish, her mouth practically watering at the thought of her favorite food. “She won’t mind me crashing your dinner?”

“No,” Drew replies, slouching over his bowl. “She asked me to invite you.”

“Really?” Her brown eyes widen a little in surprise. “Why?”

A mouthful of bolognese slides into Drew’s mouth with a slurp. “I might’ve mentioned your love for Italian food.”

Y/N takes a sip of her rosé. “Won’t you mind me crashing your dinner?”

“Nah,” he smiles, though his heart gives a small, unexpected flutter. “We’re friends.” He swallows the food he’s been chewing on the side of his cheek, then tries to avoid her eyes. “I kind of like hanging out with you.”

“Oh,” she answers instantly, so casual, yet pink paints her cheeks. Drew adores it. “I kind of like hanging out with you, too.”

Drew glances up at her then, and they share a knowing smile before going back to their food. The pasta is oily, red, a little salty. Drew knows he’ll need to brush his teeth and throw a box of mints into his mouth before they return to the read-through, but right now, he doesn’t care. The food is delicious.

Their comfortable silence is interrupted when Y/N’s phone rings from inside her bag. She pulls it out, glances at the screen, then gestures to Drew that she’s going to take the call outside.

"I’ll be right back.” 

Drew nods as she answers the phone and walks toward the door.

"Hey, Joe," he hears her say as she slips outside.

Burrow, he thinks, poking another strand of fettuccini into his mouth.

Fleetingly, he wonders if he should tell Y/N to bring Joe along—after all, it’s a friendly dinner. But the thought drifts away when Flo comes by their table to offer more wine. The question doesn’t resurface, not even when Y/N strolls back in from her private call. Joe is in Cincinnati anyway.

_

In her pale silk blouse and snug skirt—the same one Y/N owns—Maddie looks every bit as stunning as she does in her basic house ads. Drew has to admit it. Yet, there’s a faint itch of discomfort when he looks at her, something that nags at him. To distract himself, he shifts his attention to the other Madelyn in the room: the friend, not the fling.

She’s setting down a plate of sourdough bread on his dinner table, her hair tied back in a casual ponytail. Drew watches her lazily, admiring the elegant table setting. It looks like something out of a high-end restaurant—far superior to Padella’s.

“Since when did you become a chef?” he teases, his tone playful. Madelyn giggles, her focus entirely on the preparations. She wants everything to be perfect—no, better than perfect.

Only then does Drew glance back at his lover, noticing she’s staring at him, her pretty red lips forming a pout.

“Why not?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. Drew resists the urge to roll his eyes, too polite to indulge the impulse. He lets her continue her little tantrum. “You know I had a poster of Joe Burrow in my old dorm, right? The whole time I was in university?” Drew gives a barely perceptible nod, though he knows she’s lying. There’s no way she knew who Joe Burrow was back then. “So, please, please, please, please… Please, Drew. Let me meet his girlfriend, hmm?”

“No,” he replies flatly. The hurt in Maddie’s green eyes tells him he’s been too harsh. He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and she lets him, her lips curling into a small, sweet smile. “I’ll get jealous, baby,” he lies, trying to soften the blow.

She laughs, hiding her face as it flushes a flattering shade of crimson. She’s always been easily flattered by such comments, though Drew doesn’t quite understand why. After all, they’re not a couple.

“Okay,” she says, circling the table. Her fingers lace into Drew’s as she settles onto his lap, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I’ll get going then. Call me later?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, pecking the tip of her nose. Her eyelashes flutter in response.

The moment Maddie leaves, her namesake, Madelyn, pops her head out from the kitchen.

“You know, Joe Burrow is my crush too,” Madelyn says, her tone light and teasing. Drew isn’t sure if she’s mocking him or if she means it.

“Why is every girl I know infatuated with him?” Drew asks, half-exasperated, half-amused.

Madelyn shrugs, a playful smirk on her lips. “He’s the most handsome quarterback in the league. What’s not to like?”

Before Drew can retort further, the doorbell rings. His eyes flick instinctively to the wall clock. 8 PM. Right on time.

“She’s here,” Madelyn says, her tone casual but warm. She smooths her hair back once, a quick and effortless gesture, before heading to the kitchen to finish setting the table.

Drew walks to answer the door as Madelyn places the pasta on the table. Y/N stands in the corridor, a bottle of red wine in hand.

“Look who decided to show up,” Drew says, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “And here I thought you’d gotten lost on the way.”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head as she steps inside. “You wish. I’m always on time, Starkey.” She rises on her tiptoes to hug him in greeting, and Drew chuckles, taking the wine. As she steps back, her necklace—the one with the “J” pendant—gets tangled with his earpiece. She laughs, but Drew hates it. He hates that “J” around her neck almost as much as he hates everyone’s obsession with Burrow.

“Right on time, as always,” he says, his tone teasing but his smile genuine.

“Come on in,” Drew adds, waving her inside. “Madelyn’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

Y/N steps into the living room, her warm smile spreading evenly across her face. “Hey, Madelyn. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Madelyn turns from the table, her expression relaxed and welcoming. “Hey, Y/N. Likewise. Drew’s told me a lot about you.”

“Hopefully all good things,” Y/N replies with a laugh, her tone easy and friendly.

“Mostly,” Madelyn teases, shooting Drew a quick glance.

_

Save for a few streaks of pancetta, the serving plates look as though they’ve been licked clean.

“That was incredible, Mads. The best carbonara I’ve ever had,” Y/N compliments the cook. “Thanks for letting me try it.”

“Anytime,” Madelyn replies, her smile warm and genuine. Drew smiles at her, pouring both women another glass of wine.

The night has gone well. Madelyn, ever the outgoing host, wasted no time making Y/N feel at home. She’d seated her next to Drew at the table, and the conversation had flowed effortlessly. At one point, they drifted into a lively discussion about last week’s Bengals at Chargers game, which Madelyn had attended.

“That touchdown Burrow threw in the third quarter was insane,” Madelyn says, her eyes lighting up as she recounts the play. “The way he dodged that sack and still managed to get the ball to Chase—it was unreal.”

Y/N nods, her expression a mix of pride and amusement. “Yeah, he’s something else. I still don’t know how he does it. Every time I think he’s about to go down, he pulls off some ridiculous play.”

Drew, who has been quietly sipping his wine, can’t help but chuckle. “Sounds like you’re describing a superhero, not a quarterback.”

Madelyn laughs. “That game was wild, though. The Chargers almost had him a couple of times.”

“Almost,” Y/N says with a smirk.

Madelyn raises her glass in mock salute. “Touché. How many games have they won in a row?”

“Ten,” Y/N replies, her smile unwavering. “I hope they keep it going. He’s not exactly fun to be around when they lose,” she adds with a laugh.

“I can imagine,” Madelyn says, joining in the laughter.

_

Drew offers Y/N the last bit of burgundy in the bottle. When she declines, he pours it for himself.

“So, Y/N,” Madelyn says, leaning back in her chair with a relaxed smile, “what’s it like dating a quarterback in postseason? Does Joe ever turn it off, or is it all football, all the time?”

Y/N laughs, her tone light and easy. “Oh, he tries to turn it off, but it’s hard. It’s kind of endearing, honestly.”

Drew can’t quite put his finger on it, but he thinks she’s lying. It’s not endearing—not really. There’s something in her voice, a faint edge that makes him wonder if she’s trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

“So he just never … relax?”

“Sometimes,” Y/N says, her smile softening, her gaze lingering on what Drew presumes are those rare moments Joe isn’t talking football. “But it takes a lot to get him out of football mode. I have to remind him that there’s more to life than touchdowns and interceptions. Like, you know, me.”

She says it without any bite, but Drew can tell it hurts her. There’s a quiet resignation in her tone, a hint of something she’s not saying.

Drew swirls the wine in his glass, his voice casual but his eyes sharp. “Sounds like a full-time job.”

“It can be,” Y/N admits with a laugh, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “But I don’t mind. He’s worth it.”

Is he? Drew thinks, the question slipping into his mind before he can stop it. He doesn’t say it out loud, but the way Y/N’s smile falters for just a second makes him wonder if she’s asking herself the same thing.

Madelyn nods, her expression thoughtful. “I get that. It’s not easy being with someone who’s that driven.”

 “Exactly. But when he’s not in football mode, he’s actually really sweet.”

Drew raises an eyebrow, his tone teasing but with a hint of something sharper underneath, “Lucky guy,” he says, though there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something he quickly masks by taking a sip of his wine. Blue eyes lingering on Y/N for a beat too long.

“Okay, enough football talk,” Drew says, clearing his throat. He tells himself it’s not jealousy that makes him speak up, but the way his jaw tightens betrays him. He reaches into his pocket for his cigarettes. “I’m just gonna step out for a smoke. Anyone care to join me?”

Madelyn’s face pinches in disapproval. “I wish you’d quit. Those things are horrible for you.”

“Just one,” he bargains, his tone sweet as honey. He pats his belly, producing a compact sound. “I need it. You fed me too well, Mads.”

Y/N snickers, and Madelyn rolls her eyes. Pointedly, she asks, “Do you smoke?”

“Sometimes,” Y/N admits. “But keep it a secret. Joe would kill me.”

Drew raises an eyebrow, his tone teasing but with an edge that makes Y/N’s cheeks flush. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come on, keep me company.”

Y/N hesitates, glancing at Madelyn, who shrugs. “Go ahead. I’ll clean up here.”

“Fine,” Y/N says, standing up. “Lead the way.”

_

They take the elevator down to the pool area on the fifth floor, where smoking is permitted. He offers her a cigarette, but she declines, so Drew places one between his lips, holding his lighter in front of it until the flame ignites.

Y/N takes a long look at him, the wind tousling his hair across his forehead, the cigarette glowing between his lips. She almost reaches out to touch his face, her fingertips lingering near his stubble, but she decides against it. Instead, she brushes his hair back into place. “I love your earpiece.”

“Thanks,” Drew exhales, his blue eyes locked on hers as smoke curls into a diaphanous ribbon. “So, everything’s going well with Joe, huh?”

Y/N tears her gaze away, her voice softer now. “You say that like you know for sure.”

“Alma likes gossip,” Drew says, licking his lips. They taste of wine and olives.

The girl shrugs, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. “It’s been a little chaotic.”

“Oh?” Drew blows a few smoke rings, rounding out his mouth and flicking his tongue to create the hole in the center. “Mind if I ask why?”

“Football season, this movie…” Y/N rushes to answer, her words tumbling out as if she’s been holding them back. “I’d rather not talk about it. Sometimes it’s just… hard to make it work, you know?”

There’s a pause, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. Drew studies her, his expression unreadable but his eyes soft. Without thinking, he makes an offer he didn’t realize was on the table. “Whenever it doesn’t work,” he says, his voice low and steady, “you should just hang out with me.” He quickly adds, “And Mads. Me and Mads.”

Y/N looks at him, her eyes searching his for something he can’t quite name. For a moment, neither of them speaks, the silence stretching thin but not uncomfortable. Finally, she smiles, a small, tentative thing that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I might take you up on that.” There's a pause, and then she says, “But I’m flying to Cincinnati tomorrow, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

Drew nods, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long before he takes another drag of his cigarette. “When you're back,” he says, his tone light but his words carrying a weight that surprises even him. “You know where to find me.”

Y/N watches him smoke in silence for a few more minutes, the faint glow of the cigarette casting fleeting shadows across his face. When she yawns, Drew stubs it out, the ember dying with a faint hiss. He steps closer, his arm looping around her waist almost instinctively.

Unconsciously, she leans into the touch, her shoulder brushing against his chest. “It’s weird,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, “that we didn’t know each other two months ago.”

Drew’s lips curve into a faint smile, though his eyes remain thoughtful. “Really weird,” he concedes, his voice low and tinged with something she can’t quite place. He’s slightly buzzed from the wine, the edges of his thoughts blurring, but there’s a clarity in this moment that feels undeniable. “But I’m glad it’s two months later.”

Y/N tilts her head, studying him. The faintest hint of a smile plays on her lips, but there’s a question in her eyes, one she doesn’t voice. Instead, she says, “You’re not so bad yourself, Drew. For a guy who hates Joe Burrow.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. “I don’t hate him. I just… don’t get the obsession.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous,” she teases, her tone light but her gaze steady.

“Maybe,” he admits, surprising himself. His hand shifts slightly against her waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her blouse. “Or maybe I'm just more of a Patrick Mahomes type of guy.”

Y/N’s breath catches, just for a moment, before she laughs softly, the sound mingling with the cool night air. “Careful, Drew. You're talking about my boyfriend's worst enemy.”

“I am,” he laughs, his voice dropping lower. “But I’ll let you decide if I mean it.”

She looks at him then. “You’re full of surprises,” she says finally, her voice soft but steady. “I’ll give you that.”

Drew’s smile deepens, and he doesn’t pull away. “Stick around, Y/N. You might find there’s more where that came from.”

_

She returns from Cincinnati the morning of their second-to-last script reading, the “J” necklace still clinging to her neck like a stubborn reminder.

Nonetheless, in the days leading up to Mumbai, dinners at Drew’s become a regular occurrence. Every other night, Y/N shows up with something to contribute to the table: a bottle of wine, a box of pastries, a six-pack of beer, a flour-dusted baguette wrapped in paper, or even a basket of fresh fruit.

Sometimes, Madelyn joins them, and the conversation flows effortlessly, like blood through veins. But more often than not, Y/N excuses herself early, citing a late-night or early-morning flight back to Cincinnati. Drew pretends he doesn’t care, though the empty chair beside him feels heavier than it should.

Other times, when Madelyn is out with her boyfriend and the other Maddie isn’t bombarding Drew with texts—asking him to dine with her, catch a movie, or join her at the theater—or when it’s not Sunday, Thursday, or Monday football, Y/N and Drew find themselves alone. On those rare occasions, they chat idly until the wee hours of the morning. The ice in their drinks crackles and melts, diluting the colors of their beers as they delve into childhood dreams, the winding trajectories of their careers, and the shared fears of an industry that chews up and spits out even the brightest stars. They laugh about their management teams, who have long since given up on damage control when it comes to their love lives.

Drew tells her more about Alma—caring, candid Alma—and Chase, his co-star turned best friend. In turn, Y/N opens up about Joe, her voice softening as she speaks.

“It’s not always easy,” she admits, her gaze dropping to her glass. “I mean, he’s amazing—driven, passionate, everything you’d expect from someone like him. But sometimes… sometimes it feels like I’m competing with football for his attention. And football always wins.”

She also opens up about how the pressure and expectations of both their careers harm their relationship—and the fact that her dad loathes him.

"Keep that to yourself," Y/N adds after a brief lull, her voice softer now. "I’ve never told anyone about it."

"They won’t hear it from me," Drew swears, taking a gulp of his watered-down Pilsner. He doesn’t even tell Chase.

_

Dharma begins its live shoots three months after the first read-through. Y/N and Drew are scheduled to film in Mumbai for three months, but Alma informs Drew it’s likely they’ll extend to four due to Greta Gerwig’s infamous obsessive compulsiveness. Her actors often end up filming simple scenes over and over for days, all because the director doesn’t think the natural light, the color of a couch, or the overall feeling is quite right.

“Already cleared it with the boss,” Alma shares brightly. She means the head of his management, who happens to adore Drew—as all CEOs adore their biggest star.

“Fine with me,” Drew says with a shrug. “I don’t mind staying in Mumbai a little longer.” He’s worked with far less pleasant directors than Greta before, and a little OCD won’t take the fun out of filming with Y/N.

He’s pleased to discover she feels the same way.

“Let’s press for four months,” Y/N says as they climb into the luxury car waiting for them at the airport. Her voice is calm, almost serene, as though the chaos of screaming fans outside the vehicle doesn’t exist. But Drew barely notices the noise; his attention is fixed on the absence of the “J” around her neck. “I can’t wait to discover India. Have you ever been?”

“Never,” Drew replies, sliding off his sunglasses and running a hand through his hair. He glances at her, a small smile playing on his lips. “But I’m looking forward to it. Especially if you’re the one leading the tour.”

Y/N’s eyes soften.

Quietly, with her voice carrying a warmth that settles deep in his chest, she says. “I think we’ll make a good team, Heartbreak Prince.”

[justslightlymental]

Aren’t you curious, little one? Na’vi OC x reader

okay so i already did post this on ao3 like 2 years back but figured I could also post this here since i actually use tumblr now.

yeahhh surprise i also write tor Avatar yipiii (i forgot to add it in my introduction)

to give u a better image on wtf this guy looks like heres some old ass photos. (Im so much better now at art)

His name is Aakesh, age: 24 (i forgor if navi have diff age system but at least 24 in human years😔)

bro is 11ft tall, very buff for a navi (yeah bc bros half human half navi, dont ask me how it works)

anyway enough yappidy yap, get in on the ficcy, has like almost 5k words i think if not more idk

WARNINGS: This is just filthy smut with plot.

Breeding kink, knife play, choking, veryyyy slight dub-con bc woman is like noo get off even tho she wants it. Uhhh, obvious size difference, cervix fucking and past that. Biting, scratching, cringy writing, I FORGOT WHAT ELSE.

Pandora...

The beautiful planet, basically the opposite of the now dying earth. You had been one of the few lucky scientists that were chosen to travel to Pandora and help with the Avatar project, but things didn't really go as planned, after that guy named Jake Sully decided to fall in love with a native female.

A war soon broke out between the humans and the Na'vi, but of course the natives were victorious after Jake managed to gather all the tribes together to lead an attack against Miles. You had never been one to enjoy violence and didn't like how all the humans were doing the exact same thing here, that led to the death of our own Mother Earth. 

'It was fucking deserved for him, honestly.' You thought, taking a sip from your drink, while looking through your iPad.

Honestly, you just wanted to live your life as a Na'vi, everything just seemed so much more free and exciting. Imagine being able to ride your own Ikran, jump across the huge trees, and find your own life long mate. Sounds so much better than my current life, and to be honest. The natives here are quite attractive.... 

Sometimes you just look at them, whenever you visit Jake's tribes camp, the way their muscles basically shine against the sun, their slutty thin waists and broad shoulders, not to mention the lack of clothes~

'What the fuck am I thinking. Snap out of it dumbass, no Na'vi could ever love a human.' You groaned to yourself, already feeling so flustered and hot just from thinking about them.

Sigh

You were truly hopeless, weren't you? 

You made your way towards the main area, seeing some of the other people that were chosen to stay on Pandora, mostly those who were friends to Sully and helped him in the war, but some of them probably just begged their way into staying, who knows.

You talked with some of your co-workers about where some of you guys would be transported to for the following months. Lucky for you, you would be transported to work in the heart of the Omatikaya clan, Jake's clan to be exact.

Getting into a chopper or whatever the fuck these things are called, you couldn't care less and taking off towards the sky. The view was magnificent from up there, seeing all of the wild birds and Ikrans flying around, and the beautiful green forests blooming with life down there, you wouldn't trade this for anything. 

When you finally reached your location with the other people, you were greeted by Norm. He smiled and gave you a quick hug, returning that smile to him. He quickly said hello to the 2 other scientists that came with you, and led you all to the "human" area, it was just a medium sized research silo that could host up to probably 20 humans or so. 

While walking with Norm by your side and him talking about his research, you couldn't really focus on his words, as all you could think about was the feeling of being watched, like a prey to some predator.

Looking around you and finding no eyes on you however, that was weird? Perhaps It's just my mind playing tricks on me again. Humming to yourself and then focusing your attention on Norm.

"And this is your room." Norm opened a door to a small but comfortable looking room, it had pretty much everything you would need, even a personal bathroom.

"Thank you Norm. This is more than enough." You smiled and gave him a small nod.

"No worries, oh and when you feel like it, could you go outside and grab me a few samples?" He handed you some papers that had whatever he needed listed there, with precise instructions on how to handle the plant ect.

"Oh yes. You can count on me, don't worry." You smiled, sitting down on your bed and looking through them.

Norm gave you a nod and closed the door behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

"Strange, I can't seem to shake off the feeling of being watched." You muttered to yourself and looked through the window in your room, and you SWEAR you saw something quickly hide into the bushes.

"What the fuck? Am I seeing things?" You asked yourself. "Oh whatever, let's just get this task over with."

Getting ready and heading outside towards your first destination which wasn't too far away from the camp, just far enough for all of the talking and sounds to be completely silent. You had to walk for a while until you finally found the first specimen of vegetation. Inspecting it, seeing it was a beautiful shade of purple and blue, it seemed to have some sort of berries hanging from it, but wouldn't try your luck at tasting it. You took out your sample kit, and got to work. 

When you were done, and about to get up there was a sudden loud thump behind you, like someone had just landed from high up. You turned around only to find an extremely tall Na'vi male, looking straight down at you, and oh my god he was handsome. You hardly reached his stomach, your face just about the same height as where his dick would be- 'and oh my god stop thinking like that you idiot!' Mentally scolding yourself.

"Uhh.. H-hello? D-Do you need something?" You asked, stuttering over your words purely from slight fear and nervousness.

"No. I just wanted to check you out 'closer'." He had a strong accent, his voice was deep with a rasp, it almost sounded like his voice had a natural filter on it.

"C-Check me out closer? Why?" You asked, feeling a little dumb founded, no other Na'vi had ever paid any attention to you, usually it was just a bunch of side eyes or dirty glances, they didn't really like your people.

"You caught my attention all those years ago, but I could never get close, or even talk to you, but now I have a chance." He said, crouching closer to your face, his fingers holding your cheeks. It was like he was inspecting every little detail your face offered.

"M-ME?!" You gasped, cheeks turning a little red from his attention on you.

"Yes you. Who else would I be talking about while touching you like this?" He asked with a chuckle, his eyes staring right into your own, they were beautiful, the orange / yellow-ish color almost shining, captivating your own eyes in a trance.

"W-well... I guess no one..." You chuckled awkwardly.

He then let go and stood up, looking down at you, seemingly deep in thought.

"Do you have a mate?" He asked, like it was the most casual thing to talk about.

"WHAT? W-We just met, is this really appropriate to talk about-" You quickly answered, shocked by his question.

"I asked you a question. Do you have a mate or not?" He seemed to be demanding an answer, his eyebrows furrowing a little, his eyes held a serious look in them.

"O-Of course I don't. I haven't dated anyone in a long time, guess I just don't really feel attracted to humans..." You muttered the last part pretty quietly.

"Why would you not think of your species as attractive? I think you are quite divine." He asked, his hands folded against his chest.

"O-Oh..." You blushed at his compliment, smiling to yourself like an idiot, before looking up at him again.

"I-I find your people more attractive than mine.. Guess it's because I've seen humans all my life." You confessed, looking away from his face.

He just stared at you for a while, both of you standing in silence, just the gentle hum of the breeze was heard around you. You started getting awfully anxious, what if he didn't like what you said? What if you really offended him? Okay that's impossible, you didn't say anything mean, at least you hope you didn't. You were about to ask him if you said anything wrong, when you felt his hands on your waist, your eyes widened as he lifted you up like a feather. 

"W-What!" "I've watched you for a long time. I have fallen for your charms, no Na'vi or other human has ever made me feel this way." He just straight up confessed, even if he just officially met you.

"B-But we barely know each other!" You yelped. 

"We Na'vi believe in what you would call 'love at first sight'. We choose our mate, but they must also choose us." He said, voice low as his ears twitched. 

You took a moment to admire his face, the way his cheekbones were slightly more defined, his jaw line was very sharp. Your eyes wandered down towards his body, he looked very buff, his biceps larger than an average Na'Vi would have. He had a good pair of tits on his chest, his stomach muscles were defined, and his thighs were very large. 

Honestly, this is probably the first actual buff Na'vi you have seen. Your eyes lingered on his bottom half for longer than they should have, and when the male in front of you cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back up again.

"Are you curious, little one?" He asked with a chuckle.

"M-me? N-no..." You tried to deny yourself.

"I know what you want, and I can give it to you, if you just choose me as well." He said, bringing his face closer to yours.

"W-Well. It would be nice at first to know your name... And if you could put me down..." You were seriously getting too hot and bothered, the way he just held you in air and lifted you up stirred something in you, perhaps its the MASSIVE size difference between you both.

"Oh right, my apologies." He smiled, and placed you down, this time crouching in front of you.

"My name is Aakesh." He bowed his head a little.

"That's a lovely name, does it mean something? Oh and mine is (Name)." You smiled.

"It means Lord of the sky, and your name sounds rather beautiful too." He answered, very proud of his designation.

"Woah! You truly must be a great Ikran rider then?" You sounded so excited to be actually having a decent conversation with him, this isn't everyday you know?

"The best of the best."

"... About your other thing, even if we just met... I'd like to choose you too." You told him very shyly, it felt so weird to confess to early, but maybe its how they roll over here in Pandora.

"Really? Oh! This is great, thank you ma (Name). I promise to love and cherish you until my last breath." He let out a breath of relief, taking your hands into his and kissing them.

"A-As do I..." You blushed more.

"May I kiss you?" He almost purred, his lips so close to yours, feeling his hot breath on your skin.

"O-Of course." And in an instant his lips attacked yours, his tongue slipping inside your mouth as left hand traveled behind your head to hold onto your hair, tilting your head for a better angle.

 Groaning into the kiss, feeling the heat build up between your legs, he pulled you closer to his body. His other arm sneaking around your back, his hand taking hold of your ass, squeezing it and giving it a few firm smacks.

(3rd pov)

Her legs latched around his waist as his hands traveled up to her chest, squeezing her breasts through her shirt. He took a firm grip of the shirt and ripped it open, her bare chest exposed to his eyes. He leaned closer, his tongue licking her collarbones and traveling downwards between her tits.

"One thing I've grown curious about, is the way your species is naturally so much more curvy." He chuckled, his hands tearing the bra away, her nipples becoming harder against the cool air.

"A-Aakesh!" (Name) yelped, trying to cover her breasts out of pure shyness, only to have her hands yanked away.

"Do not cover yourself. I want to see everything you offer, you are mine after all." He hissed softly, his possessive side making its appearance.

He looked around at the trees and cliffs near them, carrying her and pushing her up against the rough texture of a nearby tree. His lips attacked her neck, sucking and licking, leaving marks. (Name) moaned out his name, moving her head to the side to give his lips even more access to her neck. His hands again around her chest, groping and squeezing them, obsessed with the fat between his fingers, this is something you could never enjoy with Na'vi females.

"You are a gift sent down to me, by Eywa." He muttered, biting into her neck, hard. He wanted everyone to know she was claimed, and only his to ravish.

"A-Ah. I'm y-yours Aakesh. P-Please take me." Her fingers ran through his dark hair, taking a firm grip and pulling whenever he kissed a sensitive spot.

"Careful, you are pushing every fiber of my being not to slam you onto the ground and pound into you until your vision blacks out." He said in a warning tone.

"If that's... what it takes... then so be it." She said between breaths, looking straight into his eyes and kissing his neck.

"Uh- Ngghh..." He whined out, feeling her sweet plump lips sucking on his skin left him breathless, his fingers digging into her skin, not too harshly but enough to leave a mark.

"You are... really naughty aren't you? Perhaps I should teach you a lesson, pet." He spat, turning them around and placing her on the ground, his left hand on her throat, while the other pulled down her pants.

She was soaked by now, pushing her thighs open as he stared at her underwear, she felt her face heat up from being so exposed. His right hand softly traveled upwards her inner thigh, closer and closer to her covered intimate parts. His  hand pushed against her pussy, feeling the warmth through the thin fabric separating their skins, she let out a loud yelp, arching her back off the ground.

"Someone seems excited huh?" He teased, his index and middle finger rubbing her slit, slowly and painfully, like he wasn't even going to remove her underwear to begin with.

"S-Stop teasing me! Please-!" She moaned, trying to grind against his hand, anything to get rid of the almost painful heat between her legs.

"Hmm... Since my little pet asked so nicely." He chuckled, and moved his hand to retrieve a knife from his small weapon case placed upon his right thigh. 

Her breath caught up in her throat as he hovered the knife in between her breasts, before slowly moving down, slightly touching her skin, but not breaking any. The knife traveled all the way to her underwear, before hooking it under it and cutting it off completely. He just stared with a huge smirk, his eyes seemed to darken, his tail swaying slightly, like some cat who is ready to pounce on their prey. He threw the knife somewhere nearby, and crawled on top of her, seeing her small body completely covered by him, driving him mad.

His hands took hold of her waist, as he scooted back with his body, lifting her lower half off the ground. His face was now basically in front of her exposed pussy, she kept trying to trash out of his grip, not wanting him to stare, but he wouldn't move a muscle. 

"W-What are you doing!? S-stop staring, it's embarrass- AH!" She couldn't even finish her sentence, feeling his mouth around her pussy.

His rough tongue pushed against her sweet opening, before pushing in. He was eating her up like a starved man, his mouth did wonders and it almost had her thinking if this was really his first time. She couldn't keep quiet, not when he kept hitting her sweet spot, just with his tongue, and not to mention the way he sucked her clit, the way he kept her in such a vulnerable position, it made her come closer and closer to her climax. 

"S-STOP! N-No more, Ahh- T-Too much~" She moaned out, her hands trying to grip anything on the ground to pull herself away, but any attempt had him pull her closer to his mouth, he wouldn't give her any chance for escape.

And there it was. He finally hit that sweet spot for the last time, before her strings snapped, cumming all around his tongue, he separated and swallowed everything. He hummed, licking his lips, placing her on the floor as her body kept twitching slightly from the intense orgasm she just felt.

"My dear, you taste divine, I can't wait to have your sweetness around my dick." He laughed, groaning as his hard-on was painfully pushing against his cloth.

"Haaa.... S-so good..." She said quietly, panting, trying to get as much air as she could.

"Don't think that we are done yet, this is merely the beginning." He said, removing his cloth quickly and swiftly.

Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she stared at his massive cock, at least massive for her. No human could achieve those inches naturally, oh hell no. She slapped her thighs closed, feeling her core heat up once again, becoming even more horny and needy. His cock was probably around 13-15 inches, if not more, and considering Aakesh is actually one of the tallest Na'vi she was seen at around 11' ft

"Scared? Don't worry, I won't hurt you." He chuckled, crawling near her again.

"T-That thing is going to rip me apart!" She quivered, trying to fight the rising neediness, honestly she just wanted that fucking alien dick in her, right now.

"It won't. But  I can try if you really want me to." He smiled, a hint of insane need in his eyes.

'Should I play with fire? Or should I play it safe?' (Name) thought for a moment, looking into his eyes, while his dick was dangerously close to her needy hole. A little bit of fuel to the fire won't cause a huge explosion right? It will just make the flames bigger and hotter.

"I was expecting better, is that the smallest your species has to offer?" She teased with a smirk, her hands in front of her chest in a sassy manner.

"I bet a human could fuck me better than you." She finished with a laugh. 

That was it.

It felt like actual fire burned in his eyes, as he leaned closer to her face with a very threatening aura. He chuckled dryly right in her face, taking hold of her hair and pulling her face backwards so he could bite her neck again. 

"Is that so? I am glad to tell you I am close to the biggest our species has to offer. And I won't hesitate to fuck your cervix open if it means I'll get that bratty mouth of yours to scream my name." He said. He picked up his knife he had tossed earlier and brought it near her face.

"Tell me... Do you wish for a... temporary reminder?" He asked, caressing her skin with his fingers.

"...N-No Master...I'm..I'm sorry-" She was cut short with his hand in front of her mouth, pressing the knife closer to her throat. She couldn’t lie that the fact he could end her right then and there aroused her.

"Don't apologize to me dear... Apologize to yourself once I'm done with you." And with that he lifted her legs over his shoulders, the knife long gone as his fingers traveled to her slit, rubbing up and down before inserting his middle finger in her pussy.

"Nnnh- Aahh- Y-Your finger is s-so big!" She tried to mutter out words, feeling how even his fingers could literally match up against a human's cock, at least length wise, oh what had she gotten herself into??

"I have to be so kind and prepare your tiny needy hole, otherwise you wouldn't be able to handle even an inch of me." He hissed, picking up the speed, inserting another finger into her sloppy hole, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

With all the moans and whines coming from her, it only fed his huge ego further, his fingers were going at an awful fast pace, she felt like exploding all over again, the way his fingers slid in and out so easily because of all her leaking wetness, it was honestly embarrassing how horny she had become. When she was getting closer her moans also grew louder by the moment, grabbing anything she could, his biceps, hair, the ground. 

And then he stopped.

She stared up at him with a shocked expression, all that built up pleasure almost completely gone in a single motion. She groaned out, begging for release, she did not like being edged like this at all.

"W-Why did you.. stop?" She asked, breathing heavily, hair sticking into her forehead from sweat.

"I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers, no matter how tempting your reactions are." He muttered, aligning his cock in front of her pulsing opening.

"W-Wait!-" She yelped, the air leaving her lungs as the tip of his huge cock squeezed inside of her.

The way her walls were forced open around his cock as he sunk in more and more, she was gasping for air, trying to push him away, it was too much. She moaned and whined, scratching his thighs with her nails, back arching off of the floor. He was only half way in when the walls of her  cervix stopped him, he groaned, the way her pussy squeezed around his shaft, pulsing, not letting him move out. He laughed loudly, a little out of breath, trying to control his instincts.

"You're sucking me in like no tomorrow." He panted, his dick twitching inside her.

"A-AH- So big~" She mumbled, eyes rolling back.

"Give me more." She slurred out, dragging his face down and kissing him hungrily, her actions driven by lust and need.

He took that as a hint and started moving himself, thrusting in and out slowly at first, gradually speeding up his movements. (Name) felt the tip of his cock kissing the opening of her cervix with every single thrust, feeling like he was all the way up in her stomach. He almost folded her, holding her legs against her shoulders, keeping her in a mating press, drilling his cock into her pussy. He let out loud pleased sighs, his ears picking up all the lewd sounds of their skin slapping together, the sounds of his dick going in and out of her lewd opening and most importantly her begging and pleading for more.

"M-More More! Give me all you have, USE me as you w-wish!" She screamed out, tongue rolling out of her mouth, her body sticky with sweat and the smell of sex strong around them.

It felt like he got even harder at her words, squeezing her legs together as he pounded into her harsher, forcing more of him inside her, even if it should be logically impossible to do so. His hands held her breasts squeezing them while kissing her mouth hungrily, his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth. His thrusting was growing animalistic and uneven, his dick swelling and twitching, indicating he was nearing his peak. She could feel how her walls squeezed around him more, seeing one of his fingers travel to her clit and rubbing it to give her more pleasure, she was starting to see black dots in her vision, yelling out his name. Both of them came at the same time, his cum flooding into her welcoming hole, feeling her walls being painted white as her own fluids mixed with his.

"I have so much more to give you.. little one~" He whispered into her ear as he pulled his cock out, her pussy was leaking of his juices, smearing her thighs and staining the ground below.

"What a lovely sight. You are mine now, pet." He purred, lifting her legs up to stare at her abused hole.

He used his fingers to push any leaking cum back into her, not wanting anything to go to waste, he wanted to see her bloated and full of his cum, he would keep filling her up until even Eywa herself cannot deny pregnancy. Her body was still so sensitive, her legs shook as his fingers pushed back into her gummy walls, she couldn't speak or focus on anything else but the almost painful pleasure and over sensitivity she felt.

She yelped quietly as she was turned around on her stomach, his hands on her waist as he pulled her to his body, her ass rubbing against his lower stomach. She could feel his growing hard-on against her stomach, the pre cum staining her, she bit her lip just thinking about having all of him inside her again, this time literally.

"FUCK! Just take me a-already! BREED ME, MAKE ME FULL!" She demanded, pushing against his dick, feeling him rubbing along her slit.

"... Be careful what you wish for" He let out an almost feral growl.

Before she could even mutter out a reply he had invaded her lower regions in one single thrust, not giving her a single warning nor a moment to adjust to his massive length all over again. His hands holding her head into the ground, while the other was attacking her clit, all the while thrusting into her harshly. He bit into her neck, leaving such a deep mark it started bleeding, licking up all of her blood and letting out satisfied grunts and sighs. She didn't even register anything else he was doing, only focusing on how his dick was forcefully digging deeper and deeper into her uterus, forcing more and more of him inside.

She moaned out, pushing against him to meet his thrusts.

"Aren't.. you such a dirty one... I'll make sure.. to fill you to the brim... nggh..~" He groaned, taking hold of her hair and pulling her up.

Her back against his chest, both of them on their knees, he thrusted upwards into her, his other hand pulling her towards him, until he was completely in her. She yelled out his name as he kept hitting her spot deep and rough already past her cervix. His cock shape would surely be engraved into her after this. She kept scratching his arms that were around her and his thighs as she neared her climax, feeling like she would explode any moment now. When he finally reached his last thrust, he stopped, his cum filling her womb completely, she came hard at the feeling of being filled, her pussy clenching around him, her essence mixed with his. 

"Are you okay?" He asks finally, after a long pause.

"Mmm... mm... Y-yeah..." She mumbles, forcing herself to stay awake, her whole body still recovering.

He finally separated his body from her, pulling himself from inside her, seeing all of that cum sweeping out. He chuckled, staring at her fucked up body, he quickly placed his cloth back on and used her jacket to cover her body up. He lifted her up bridal style and walked towards the camp, she was fast asleep in his arms.

"I will make sure to treat you well princess."

-

YAS

[ladyanakim]

HEADCANON'S SHAKA DE VIRGO❤️♍️

Nació en Nueva Delhi, India.

Nació el 19 de Septiembre de 1966.

Fue hijp de una Princesa HINDÚ, llamada Swathi Kshatriya, de la misma Dinastía Kshatriya, hija de Rey de ese entonces : Ram Kshatriya, por lo cual era parte de la familia real, pero no tenía derecho a trono, ya que era hijo también de un guerrero sin fortuna.

Su nombre real era Aakesh Kshatriya "Shaka".

Sus ojos era azules y su cabello rubio, debido a que su abuela materna, era una Británica que se caso con su abuelo, el antiguo rey de la India : Shiva Kshatriya.

Es ambidiestro.

Es Homosexual (Nunca le gustado las mujeres)

Sabe hablar varios idiomas: Hindu, Español, Inglés (de parte de su familia materna), Francés, Alemán, Griego y Latin.

También habla los mismos idiomas.

Es vegano (No consume nada de Origen animal, por convicción).

Mide 1.82 METROS.

Pesa : 69 kgs siendo el más delgado de todos los golden Saints.

Veía a Kiki como su hijo adoptivo.

Su única pareja conocida fue : Mü de Aries, con quien inició una relación desde que ambos tenia 12 años.

Era Zurdo desde nacimiento.

Su nacimiento fue muy triste, ya que es soldado con quien su madre se caso, no es su verdadero padre, su madre, la Princesa Swathi, fue abusada por un turista Inglés, de quien quedo embarazada, su madre solo tenía 13 años, fue casada con este soldado, leal a su abuelo, para "Tapar" su deshonra.

Durante su tierna infancia, fue hecho de lado, por la familia imperial de la India: Kshatriya, solo por que nació, producto de un abuso.

Entreno en la India de 1971-1973, para lograr ganar, la armadura de Virgo.

Su comida favorita es: la sopa de Verduras y de Zanahoria.

Su bebida favorita es : Jugo de arándanos.

sospechaba de la Traición de Saga de Geminis, pero se negaba a creer que este fuera un asesino.

Su separación con Mü de Aries fue muy dolorosa, para ambos, ya que es  su mejor Amigo/Pareja.

Siempre creyó que Aioros de Sagitario era inocente.

Le desagradaban Dm de Cáncer, por que este siempre hacia de menos, su religión Budista.

Si le gustará el Kpop, sería: Blink (Blackpink) Midzy (Itzy).

Creía que Afrodita de Piscis, era muy superficial y demasiado vanidoso.

Le gustaba leer libros Budistas y de superación.

Le gustaba ver películas de Misterio.

Sus canciones favoritas, era las canciones de Beethoween.

Su postre favorito era : Helado de Almendras.

Su primera vez con Mü de Aries fue romántica, y tierna, aunque ambos era demasiado torpes.

Jamás creyó que Saga, Camus y Shura, haya jurado lealtad a Hades, siempre creyó que era un plan muy bien elaborado.

Le gustaba cosechar su propia comida, en un Jardín que estaba fuera de Virgo.

Cuando falleció, dejo el collar de las 108 cuentas, en armadura de Virgo, donde Kiki, las resguardo con esmero.

Creía que Ikki de Fénix sería, un excelente sucesor de Aioria de Leo.

Creía que Milo de Escorpio era demasiado infantil, por burlarse de Aioria, sin que este pudiera defenderse.

Le caía bien Aldebaran de Tauro, aunque este, le lastimara las costillas, cuando lo abrazaba.

Jamás conoció a Kanon, hasta días antes de la batalla contra Hades.

Veía a Dohko de Libra como un buen tío adoptivo.

Veía a Shion de Aries como buen patriarca & "Padre" Adoptivo.

[rightcrowlung]

Call of Duty OC

note: yes, COD has its nails dug into me now. This is my OC, Reghan (he/she). He’s in the MW reboot timeline. I’m gonna be writing headcanons and shit for the reboot folks since I think about them so much. He is black btw.

————————————————————————-

Reghan Twia Anjo Satrinava-Idrissu

Aliases:

Bravo 1-1 (would not leave Price alone until he allowed this)

Rhys (by John Price and family)

Rhea (by Soap and Price)

Angel (ONLY by Soap)

Sergeant

Welshy

Sheepshagger (do not call her this, he will kill you)

Grim fucking Reaper (a Shadow)

D.O.B.: June 1st, 1997

Gender: X (intersex)

Nationality: Welsh

Laterality: Ambidextrous

Height: 223 cm

Weight: 285 lbs

Vision: good enough, do not ask him for specifics

Blood type: O-

Relatives:

Fia Satrinava-Idrissu (Mother)

Aakesh Satrinava (Father)

Major Somatra Satrinava-Idrissu (Oldest Sister)

Cardamom Satrinava (Older Sister)

Basil Satrinava (Older Sibling)

Priya Satrinava-Idrissu (younger sister)

Paternal+Maternal Grandparents

Salem Satrinava (Cousin)

Wraith Satrinava (nephew)

Marital status: Single

Eye colour: Gold

Hair colour: Black

Languages: Welsh, Portuguese, Twi, Scottish (Gaelic)

Children: None.

————————————————————————-

Have pictures of soap since I have no pictures of my OC

[once-upon-a-reblog]

Hello, if you don't mind some more questions.. 🙈 I keep thinking about Notte/Sundered meeting which brought me to the question: can a claimed human/Harry be made Night Child? Ignoring whether Aakesh would let it happen, is it simply possible? If so, what would be the consequences regarding the Beast and its control?

Hi, there! Gosh, you can ask me anything!

(I should let you know that world-building is kind of... my thing? I've taught classes on it, so I tend to go a PINCH overboard when it comes to Thinking A Lot about story. :D)

Anyway, your questions are absolutely A+. :)

As to whether or not this fascinating scenario (which, you should know, COULD HAPPEN about three books from now) is possible:

If Aakesh did not interfere, yes. Harry could be made into a Night-Child. For now.

The key difference is this: Aakesh has not yet stopped Harry aging. He hasn't really messed with his genetics yet at all; Harry is NINETEEN in The Sundered; he's not done growing, and Aakesh wants him to reach peak health before he stops that process.

And yes, the plan is to stop the process. He intends to keep Harry with him forever. But he doesn't want to do that until Harry's at physical peak.

As long as Harry is purely human, he can be made. When Aakesh stops the aging process, Harry's DNA will have shifted. He won't be human anymore, not purely. At that point, he could no longer be made. As for the consequences, unless Aakesh chose to HELP Harry deal with his Beast, Harry would have to handle it himself - and it would be rough on the poor guy.

I adore Harry, but he's not the best when it comes to self-control. It's a work in progress, shall we say.

Funny thing is. for Harry, it would honestly be... glorious.

The Beast is simple. No conflicts, no conundrums. One clear goal - Get The Blood (preferably human). There's joy in it. Absolute abandon. I think Harry would have a GREAT time giving in to his Beast. And absolutely torment himself after. He's like that. As an aside, Notte would not want to make Harry because Notte loves found family, and would recognize that Harry has his. As another aside, part of him WOULD want to make Harry because - thanks to Aakesh - Harry is genetically perfect right now. Oh yes - Notte would sense that. He was designed to hunt humans. He wouldn't act on it, but it would be tantalizing. See, Harry is fully human, but Aakesh has gone through his body, repairing any little minor faults, so that Harry is basically... uberhuman. Perfect. Not that Harry knows that, of course. He's just being him - going through his day, trying to process things he doesn't fully understand. Sometimes crying at night, which means cuddles from Gorish, which is pretty great - or being held by Aakesh, which is also good but totally different in some way Harry is not quite ready to grok. You and your question. You are making me RAMBLE. :D I hope this satisfies! Feel free to ask any. This is a blast.

[once-upon-a-reblog]

WHY WOULD I MIND BEING TAGGED (I am stunned and melting)

Fun fact: the initial sketch for this dates from August 2022, which means it precedes this glorious answer by @once-upon-a-reblog

Sometimes crying at night, which means cuddles from Gorish, which is pretty great - or being held by Aakesh, which is also good but totally different in some way Harry is not quite ready to grok.

^this still makes me foam at the mouth in the most positive way btw

[the-origins-system]

i can !!

- apollo and aakesh

dm us maybe? if that’s comfortable!

-ender

[mightycrumbles]

Aakesh the sky pirate-

photo dump of my OC including expressions, him and his mama, and a cinematic shot!

[takkytakk]

Part 3 of my Art Fight Attacks! In order of appearance:

Fahari by Rayg_arts

Sylene by StarlightSpecter

Shadow Play by @babblingbranches

Seraphine by @wasigoodtoyou 

Black Ice by @transfaulkner

Clown Princess by Cuttlebirb

Nur Yenn and Aakesh Chandrama by sugarb.lilac

Aguijón by inercias_art

Heatwave by strongwater_arts

Ethereal by joeverlasting

[bayilelakiku]

Rangkaian Nama Bayi Laki Laki Dan Artinya: Aakesh

Rangkaian Nama Bayi Laki Laki Dan Artinya: Aakesh

Arti Nama Aakesh – bayilelakiku.com. Diwaktu pemberian nama anak laki-laki perlu pertimbangan khusus diantaranya perihal makna nama dan maksud namanya. Tak harus modern, yang terpenting mempunyai arti bagus & bermakna. Salah satu pilihan terbaru nama bayi dengan kata Aakesh. Nama tersebut tentunya sangat cocok disematkan untuk putra kesayangan Ayah/Bunda.

Meskipun kata Aakesh masih jarang…

[baekchelor]

𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

pairings: George Mackay x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, golden boy George Mackay learns a basic human truth: that the heart is deceitful above all things.

❝ have  you  ever  been  in  love? horrible  isn’t  it?  it  makes  you  so  vulnerable.  it  opens  your  chest  and  it  opens  up  your  heart  and  it  means  that  someone  can  get  inside  you  and  mess  you  up.❞                                                                                                                         ―neil  gaiman

ONE | SCRIPTS & BONDS ◄ ᴘʀᴇᴠ

The first read-through for Dharma happens three weeks later at a film studio in London. Although George allowed Daisy to sleep at his place last night, he didn't even say goodbye when he walked out on the girl deeply asleep on the wrong side of the bed. He wanted to be early as usual, and leaving coffee ready on the kitchen counter didn't fall bellow a No-Strings-Attached relationship, so he didn't bother. There are only Greta Gerwig and some staffers to greet when he's ushered into the venue.

"Y/N isn't here yet," George observes, tired blue orbs scanning the room.

"Don't worry," Alma smiles. She's already slipped a coffee cup into his hand, the way she always does in work mornings when she's well aware George is still half-asleep. The boy snickers to himself, his manager is so predictable. "She'll be here."

"She's probably still with Henry," George surmises. Y/N isn't known as The Witcher’s princess for nothing.

Alma shrugs, encouraging to slurp his Americano and mind his own business. George is well aware this chat makes him look foolish and inexplicably jealous. Thankfully, Alma gossips along, "I don't doubt for a second she may have slept with him last night. But she won't be sleeping in, I can guarantee you that." George tilts his head, asking for more in tell. Alma's red-stained lips stretch open in a yawn. "She always comes on the dot, apparently. Never early, never late."

More interested than he should, and with an amused grin, he consults the time on his phone. Nine o'clock. "Thirty more minutes, then." He places the iPhone on the table in front of him, next to his script. "Let's time her." Alma chuckles, shaking her head. George plays dumb, opting to dramatically smell his coffee before proceed and take another sip from his cup. He picks up the thick white booklet, lines already colour-coded per actor, and starts to read through it.

Dharma is set in 1857 India. Aakesh, a penniless Hindi boy —portrayed by Dev Patel, the main lead— has always known his social standing is a consequence of wrongdoing in his past life. Y/N plays Marina, a wealthy Spanish girl Aakesh believes to be his past life love and the trigger of his attempts to clean his karma. George's character becomes involved when Colonel Edmund Thorn (Michael Fassbender), concerned about the safety of his fianceé, Marina, assigns James as her personal guard. They fall in love.

Thumbing through the middle section of his script, where the plot starts to thicken, it suddenly dawns on George how much acting this movie is going to require of him. His character demands him to declare his devotion to Marina with mere gazes, words few. Still, each movement of his body vociferates a heartfelt love, deepest that any he's ever impersonated.

George closes his eyes, trying to get in character. He imagines himself having this conversation with someone he desperately loves. He pictures Daisy in his head. Her thick, ash blonde hair and smiling eyes, the pink warm of her cheeks and the heat of her mouth when he kisses her.

It feels like cheating, though, because his character is supposed to be in love with Marina, and although Daisy is a girl he enjoys spending time with, he is not in love with her.

George's sigh exits in a long, laboured stream of breath.

"Everything all right?"

The voice is sweet, with an upward lilt to it. It sounds hesitant too, but like it's trying not to be.

The boy looks up. Y/N is studying him, dark-haired and flushed, the expression on her face shy.

"Oh, hello there," George smiles, clearing his head of its haze. He rises from his seat and extends a hand. "I'm George."

"I know," she giggles, holding it. Her palm is cold, whereas George's is warm. "I'm Y/N. I really admire your work. I’m a big fan… Probably had seen all your movies."

George can't help feeling a little sheepish at that. "Thank you," he says. Their arms fall back to their sides. "Same here. Without the 'I'm Y/N' part," he jokes, and he wants to slap himself for being that lame.

"Geo’s friend is a big fan of your boyfriend," Alma quips from behind her. She's too practical to ever get star struck. "I'm Alma, by the way. Geo's manager."

Y/N smiles charmingly as she shakes Alma's hand. And George finds himself in a daze, he loves the way she behaves, how her voice sounds like and the welcoming aura she irradiates.

<< The fuck is wrong with you?>>

"Nice to meet you, Alma." She turns back to George and smiles wider. She has small, pink lips; like petals. "I can arrange a meet and greet if you'd like."

"Thank you," George says, smiling back in spite of himself.

Y/N's eyes twinkle as she coyly shrugs her shoulders. She's wearing a tight little skirt George is sure Daisy owns too. It just doesn't look as good on her as it does on the girl who's currently in front of him.

"Whoa! Look at us getting along," she cheers, eyes transformed into two crescent moons, "Must confess I came prepared to try to break the ice." She seems to check herself then, pursing her mouth and laughing all of a sudden. "Sorry, that made it sound like we're going on a blind date or something."

George laughs along because her giggles are contagious and it is kind of funny. "We kind of are? We're playing star-crossed lovers and didn't even do a chemistry test. I'm pretty much going into this thing blind."

"Aren't we?" Y/N looks like she's glad to find someone in the same boat. "I was just telling--"

"Henry" George quips. His mouth stills awkwardly over the last syllable. He's not sure why he's letting himself be so familiar with this girl when they've only just met.

Y/N doesn't seem to mind, though. "Oh, no, no," she rolls back on her heels, "Henry and I are kinda...well..."

It puts George at ease for some reason. "Oh I see," he says affably with absolutely no bite to it, and Y/N's soft smile flashes again. "You were saying?"

"I was saying," she continues, "I was telling Dev about the no chemistry test thing, and he goes:" her voice fakes a man's voice, heavy British accent and everything, "you guys don't need it. Look at you both! Would look so good together.'" Y/N shakes her head a little, chuckling as she exhales. "I wasn't sure how to react."

"My friend Dean said the same thing," a smile creeps without George's consent as he confesses Dean's mischief. Y/N lets out a soft Oh. "I guess we just, I dunno-"

"You just have natural chemistry," Greta pipes up out of nowhere. She softly squeezes Y/N's cheek fondly. "Still on time, uh? You never change."

"It's all on Vanessa," she giggles with equal fondness. Vanessa is her manager slash personal assistant. George thinks the actress relationship with Greta is reasonable since they've worked together before in a movie he can't remember the name, but she stared alongside Timotheé Chalamet.

The director strikes up a bit of small talk about Y/N's last movie, The Selection, where she and Tom Holland bring the book to life in Netflix's screens. If George remembers it correctly, Holland plays a prince and Y/N portrays a commoner who is selected to compete for the prince's heart. The movie seems a cringe, but for some weird reason, George has decided to watch it once he gets home. Hopefully, Daisy will be gone by then, and the boy would stop at the convenience store to buy beer and popcorn.

George picks up his phone. Stealthily, he checks the time. Nine thirty-five. He and Y/N have been talking for approximately five minutes.

<<On the dot>>, he thinks to himself, recalling Alma's words. Then he hears his name. "Pardon?"

Y/N is saying, "I'll go sit with Dev. Catch up with you later?"

"Yeah, of course," due to his actor demeanour George can hide the disappointment trapped between his words. He understands she has to sit with Dev, their characters interact throughout the entirety of the film. "Do what you have to do."

"Talk to you later then," she shoots him a bright smile, her pink gums gleaming inside of it.

Greta is calling for the rest of the cast to take their seats around the square actors' table. Call it luck, but Dev and Y/N's sits are right across the chair labelled Mackay. The brit places his phone back on the table and slides into his chair.

"By the way," she says, turning around again. "Do I call you, George? Or..."

"Or?" flipping back to the first page of the script, he folds the cover back neatly as he questions the girl with his eyes.

"Your manager called you Geo." Y/N returns her inquisitive gaze. "That's your nickname?"

"Sort of," George laughs. "Very few people call me that way."

"May I?"

He shrugs, "Sure." As he rubs his palm over the script, he decides, on a whim, to try something new. How James, his character, calls her: "Ms Marina."

The crinkles in the corners of Y/N's eyes make the risk worth it.

"Okay," she says, walking backwards with her hands entwined. "Let's have fun today, Geo."

"Flirty Thirty” A gleam of the eye, a quirk of the lip, and it isn't Marina talking anymore, is Y/N tittering.

The room erupts in laughter. George's laughing the hardest of all.

"Y/N," Greta scolds half-heartedly. "Don't break character."

"Sorry, G," Y/N apologizes sweetly. "I thought I would break the ice."

Somehow, George finds himself smiling.

Today marks the fourth official Dharma read-through, and the tenth time they've gone over the entire script. George gets why Y/N is antsy; he is too. He can't wait to start filming in Mumbai, to smell the air of the streets, hear the whir of traffic and fast-paced Hindi. He can't wait to feel James in his bones in every take, the character encasing him, flesh and blood.

Fact is read-throughs are boring. So d*mn repetitive. George is just glad he's got perfect girl Y/N Y/L/N around to make things bearable.

Gerwig sighs in resignation. "Let's break for lunch," she says, addressing the entire group, "Reconvene in an hour."

George catches Y/N's eye and mouths, Padella? Y/N nods vigorously, flashing two thumbs up and a bright smile. The one the boy has grown fond of.

"I'm dying," George tells her a few minutes later as they walk to the restaurant. Luckily for both, it is near the film studio.

"Same here," she agrees. "One last read-through then India, here we come!"

"But we go through the script three times each meeting," George is half-whining, half-sniggering at the way Y/N's eyes roll to the back of her head. "We'll probably take even longer than usual today because of your little adlib."

"Sorry..."

"It was fun, though." Quickly, George reaches out to ruffle the hair on the top of Y/N's head. He wants to touch her. He just doesn't know why nor how and he doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. He cares too much for her. "Not a lot of laughs in this love story of ours."

Y/N doesn't bother smoothing down the mess. "Can you imagine loving someone as much, Geo?"

"Uhm..." George brushes a fingertip against his own fringe. He needs to get it trimmed before they start the live shoots. "I don’t know. Their love is something out of this world.”

"Yeah," Y/N watches the movement casually. "It is."

They get to the restaurant and the waiter, who is clearly a fan of hers, greets them enthusiastically.

"You two are so good looking," she gushes, but George knows the compliment is directed at Y/N. The waiter, who's tag reads Flo, merely is trying to be polite by her use of pronouns. "You get more and more dashing every time I see you." Y/N gives her the prettiest smile, and Flo enthusiastically looks at George, beyond happy for the reaction she got out of Y/N. George would be thrilled as well if the prettiest girl at Padella smiled at him in such a way...

<<What?>>

Padella has become a familiar haunt. They'd gone after the first read-through —when George discovered Y/Ns favourite food was any type of pasta— and every read-through after that, always ordering a dish they haven't tasted before and two glasses of wine. Not exactly in keeping with the diets, but George reckons these cheat days won't hurt. He and Y/N have taken to exercising together too, fitting in the gym sessions between their Dharma meetings and other schedules.

"I gained weight when I was a teenager," Y/N admitted during one of their workouts. "I had to work out to keep the weight off. Not like you." She'd smiled her sweet, bright smile, and George could imagine her being just as likeable with double the meat on her bones.

"I grow a beer gut like that," he'd told Y/N, snapping his fingers. "So I have to work it off, too."

In record time, Flo brings their dishes, leaving a courtesy starter on the table. George grabs his fork and swirls it through the fettuccini. It makes a pleasing, gooey sound as he incorporates the Pomodoro sauce.

"Oh, right, if I may Ms Marina," George says, giggling. The actress hums in return, mixing the contents of her own plate. "Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? My sister is cooking carbonara, your favourite."

"Oh my god," Y/N looks up from her dish, mouth-watering at the mere thought of her favourite food. "She won't mind me crashing your dinner?"

"No," George replies, slouching over his bowl. "She asked me to invite you."

"Really?" her orbs go a little round. "Why?"

A mouthful of bolognese disappears into George's mouth with a slurp, "I might have mentioned your love for Italian food."

Y/N takes a sip of her rosé, "Won't you mind me crashing your sibling dinner?"

"Nah," he smiles. “We're friends." He swallows the food he's chewed into the side of his cheek and tries not to meet Y/N's eyes. "I kind of like hanging out with you."

"Oh," she answers instantly, so blasé, pink across her cheeks. George adores it. "I kind of like hanging out with you, too."

George glances up then, and they share a knowing smile before going back to their food. It's oily and red, a little salty. George knows he's going to have to wash his teeth and throw a box of mints into his mouth before they go back to the read-through, but he doesn't care. It's delicious.

Their comfortable silence is broken when Y/N's phone rings inside her Rebecca Minkoff’s bag. She pulls it out, glances at the screen, and gestures to George that she's going to take it outside.

"I'll be right back," she says; tongue running over her teeth. The boy nods, just as Y/N answers the call and turns.

"Hey, H," George hears her say as she pushes through the door. "What's up?"

Cavill, he thinks to himself, sucking up to another curtain of fettuccini.

Fleetingly, he wonders if he should tell Y/N to bring a date—as in Henry. But the idea is pushed to the back of his mind when Flo comes by their table to ask if they would want more wine, and it doesn't resurface, not even when Y/N strolls back in from her private call.

In her pale silk blouse and tight little skirt, the one Y/N owns too, Daisy looks every bit as gorgeous as she does in her Basic House ads. George gotta admit. Yet he feels a little itch when he looks at her, it bothers him, so he focuses his attention on the other Daisy in the room. His sister.

She's setting down a plate of sour bread on his dinner table, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Luhan watches her lazily, admiring the classy decoration of the table. It looks out of a restaurant. Much better than Padella's.

"Since when my sister's become a chef?" he says playfully. His sister giggles in response, her attention too immersed in the preparations. She wants it all to be perfect. Scratch that, more than perfect.

Only then George returns his gaze towards the other Daisy, and he notices she's staring at him, a pout on her pretty red lips.

"Why not?" she asks. George wants to roll his eyes, but he's too polite to do so. He lets her continue the tantrum, "You know I used to have a poster of Henry Cavill in my old dorm, right? The whole time I was in University?" George barely nods. "So please, please, please, please, please... Please, George. Let me meet his girlfriend, hmm?"

"No," he answers. The hurt in Daisy's green eyes confirms he's been too harsh. He reaches up to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. She lets him do it, wearing a small and sweet smile. "I'll get jealous, baby," he lies in an attempt to soften his previous words.

She laughs, hiding her face as it turns a flattering shade of crimson. She's always been flattered by stuff like this and George doesn't understand why. They're not a couple, to begin with.

"Okay," she circles the table, fingers lacing into George's as she sits on his lap. She plants a kiss against his lips, "I'll get going then. Call me later?"

"Yeah," he pecks her on the tip of her nose and her eyelashes quiver.

The moment Daisy leaves, her namesake, George's sister Daisy, pops his head from the kitchen.

"You know, Henry is my celebrity crush too," her feet express her enthusiasm in small jumps. "I'm so excited!"

"You what?" George's nostrils flare, "Why every girl I know is infatuated with him?"

The doorbell rings before George can retort any further. His eyes flick over to the wall clock on impulse. 8PM. Of course.

"She's here," Daisy smiles, hands flapping at her sides. She combs back her hair, pauses, and repeats the action two more times.

It reminds George of the time he'd run into Brad Pitt backstage at an award show in Los Angeles. He was already famous by then, but he'd still tugged at the sleeves of his tux obsessively, hoping the jacket was sitting squarely on his shoulders, right before he'd said hello.

He walks to answer the door as Daisy places the pasta on the table. Y/N's standing in the corridor with a bottle of red in one hand.

"Ms Marina," George drawls, "Is that you, in my humble home?"

Laughing, Y/N kisses both his cheeks in greeting. George chuckles, taking the wine, and suddenly, he feels his face burning hot. "On the dot, as always."

The girl blushes. At least he's not the only one.

"Come on in," George waves her through the door. "My sister is dying to meet you." He can hear the hissed Geo! like a whip slicing through the air.

Y/N snaps her knuckles, a smile pulling up evenly on both sides, "Hello, Daisy."

A demure, cotton-soft voice replies, "Hello, gorgeous. It's so nice to meet you.”

"Likewise,” the actress beams.

Save for a few bites of pancetta, the serving plates look as though they’ve been licked clean.

"That was so, so good Daisy. The best carbonara I've ever had" Y/N compliments the cook. "Thanks for letting me try it."

"Any time" she replies, looking like a kid who's just been handed a present. George smiles at her, pouring both girls another glass of wine.

The night has gone well. Being the outgoing type, Daisy wasted no time in making Y/N  feel comfortable in her brother's home. She'd seated her next to George at the table, fussing over them both as she peppered Y/N with questions about her last two projects. She'd let slip that she'd watched every season of The Tudor's and Y/N's smile had been bashful.

"I loved Henry's work," Daisy had admitted, and George couldn't help but giggle at how quickly his sister's face coloured in bright pink.

George offers Y/N the last bit of burgundy in the bottle. When the latter declines, licking at the wine-stained seam of her mouth, he pours it for himself.

"You don't have to be so formal with me," Y/N tells Daisy, her tone already fond. George can tell she likes that. "I'm a big fan of Henry too. I had the biggest crush on him before I even met him." Her face is still a little rosy. She blushes really easily, and George likes it.

“It still feels weird. Henry is your boyfriend!”

"It's totally fine. Trust me," Y/N reassures her. "We can fangirl over him as Geralt every time you want. I don't mind."

Daisy squeals.

"Okay, enough girl talk." It isn't jealousy what makes George scoff. At least that's what he tells himself. He reaches into his pocket for cigarettes. "I'm just gonna go for a smoke, okay?"

Daisy’s pretty face pinches, "I wish you'd quit. Those things are horrible for you."

"I'll just have one," he bargains, sweet as honey. He pats his belly, crafting a compact sound. "I need it. You fed me too well, sister."

Y/N sniggers and Daisy rolls her eyes. Pointedly, she asks, "Do you smoke?"

"Sometimes," Y/N answers. “But I agree, it’s nasty.”

George watches as Y/N —the traitor—agrees with his sister, "Anyways, you should come with me so I can show you around."

"You shall," Daisy encourages.

“I don’t know,” the actress murmurs but George has already hooked his fingers behind her elbow and is half-hauling her out of her seat. "C’mon, let's go."

"Fine. Lead the way, Geo."

They take the elevator down to the pool area on the fifth floor, where smoking is permitted. George puts a cigarette in his mouth, holding his lighter in front of it, so the flame ignites it.

Y/N takes a long sigh. "Daisy is great," she says quickly. "She's so much like you."

"Thanks. I guess?" George exhales, the smoke curling in a ribbon of diaphanous white. "You’re still seeing Henry, uh?"

The other smirks. "You say that like you know it for sure."

"Alma likes gossip” George licks his lips. They taste of wine and olives.

The girl shrugs. "It’s kinda..." she answers. "It's on and off."

"Oh?" George blows a few smoke rings, rounding out his mouth and flicking his tongue to create the hole in the centre. "Mind if I ask why?"

"No particular reason," Y/N rushes the answer. "I’d rather not talk about it. Sometimes it... it just doesn’t work, ya know?”

Without thinking, George makes an offer he didn't realize was on the table. "Whenever it doesn't work," he says, "you should just hang out with me," he quickly continues, a little freaked, words rushing out, "and Daisy. Me and Daisy."

Y/N laughs, just once: its all gums and perfect pearly teeth. "Do you feel sorry for me?"

"Hardly, Mrs Prettiest Face On TV," George retorts mildly. Y/N laughs again, and George can't tell if she's sarcastic or earnest. Not that it matters. "It's just you and my sister got along really well, and I–"

"Thanks," Y/N cuts in. Her eyes are particularly feline in this light, and her voice is a degree more gentle than it was before. "I'll take you up on that."

She watches him smoke in silence for a few more minutes, the night air clouding with the filmy exhaust of his cigarette. When Y/N yawns, George stubs it out. Then he loops his arm around her waist.

Unconsciously, she leans into the touch. "It's weird," she observes, "that we didn't know each other two months ago."

"Really weird," George concedes, slightly buzzed from the wine and only half-aware that something has lifted between them. "I’m glad it's two months later."

In the days leading up to India, dinner at George's become a regular thing. Every two nights, Y/N will show up with something to add to the table: wine, desserts and beer, a floury baguette wrapped in paper or a basket of fresh fruit.

Sometimes Daisy joins them, and the conversation flows like blood through veins. At around midnight, Y/N will excuse herself to give the siblings their space but not before George extracts a promise from her to work out or watch a movie the following day. (She happens to love cinema as much as him.)

Other times, when Daisy is out with her boyfriend and the other Daisy isn't smouldering George with text messages asking him to dine with her, go to the movies with her, come to the theatre to see her, bla bla bla; George will chat idly with Y/N until the wee hours of the morning. The ice in their drinks will crackle and melt, diluting their colour, as they discuss their childhood dreams and the trajectory of their careers. They recount their upward climb in show business, the slow decline of some of their peers, and the fear that they might someday be in the same boat. They joke about their management and how both companies have long given up on damage control when it comes to their love lives.

George tells her more about caring, candid Alma, and Dean, his co-star and now best friend.

"Blake and Schofield are real-life BFF's?" George’s companion asks incredulously, "I stan so hard."

In turn, Y/N confesses him Sam Mendes is her absolute favourite director, and George promises to introduce them. She also voices about Henry, their ups and downs and the fact half of their circle of friends categorize their relationship as toxic.

"Keep that to yourself," Y/N adds after a brief lull. "I've never told anyone about it."

"They won't hear it from me," George swears, taking a gulp of watered-down Pilsen. He doesn't even tell his sister.

Dharma begins its live shoots three months after the first read-through.

Y/N and George are scheduled to film in Mumbai for four weeks. Alma informs George it's likely they will extend to six due to Greta Gerwig's infamous obsessive compulsiveness. His actors often end up filming simple scenes over and over again for days, because the director doesn't think the natural light or the colour of a couch or the feeling is quite right.

"Already cleared it with the boss," Alma shares brightly. She means the head of his management, who happens to love George, as all CEOs love their biggest star.

"Fine with me," the actor says. "I don't mind staying in Mumbai a little longer." He's worked with less pleasant directors than Greta before, and a little OCD won't take the fun out of filming with Y/N.

He's pleased to discover that the other feels the same way.

"Let's press for six weeks," Y/N says as they climb into the luxury car waiting for them at the airport. She speaks in a natural tone of voice, as though there isn't a swarm of fans screaming outside the vehicle. "I had only been here once, years ago, I lived in a small city near Mumbai called Pune for almost two months.”

"How come?"

"School stuff... I can't wait to rediscover India. Have you ever been?"

"Nope," George says, sliding off his sunglasses and running a hand through his hair. "Count me in on the exploration."

The way Y/N looks at him like he's her closest person in the world right now makes George's insides warm.

ɴᴇxᴛ►

@loulouloueh​

[hirakdesherrani]

Wow, is Naagin5 really going to justify downright disgusting/rapey characters like Aakesh/Veer? 

It doesn't help that Dheeraj/Sharad are better actors than the two Mohits, so EK is gonna manipulate ppl to like the evil boy/good girl pairing. 

OUAT Naagin had a ml like Ritik. Sigh.