#credit to all the wonderful gif makers

[petit-papillion]

Spa-Francorchamps Weather Forecast

FP1

Quali

Sprint Shootout

Sprint

Race

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). filthy smut. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: i know i made you guys wait a lot for this but i wanted it to be perfect and i was really busy but it's finally here now! thank you for the love on the first two parts, i love all of you. happy reading!!!

"Oh yes! I forgot about the most exciting part. It's your friend, Pedro Pascal."

You're not sure who it's exciting for, because it's certainly not you. Sure, Jon had no idea what had happened between you and Pedro, but you were hoping he did at the time. Because if he did, he wouldn't be gushing about how exciting it is that the two of you are going to collaborate.

You try to hide your dismay and muster up a smile as Jon continues to talk about how great Pedro is. You can't help but wonder how you're going to make it through this project without letting your personal issues with Pedro get in the way of your work and finally driving you into insanity. 

Regardless, you know you have to remain professional and focused. It's just a job.

"Does he know about me?" you hesitantly ask.

"Yeah, he's known for awhile." Jon replies, "We asked him not to mention anything, but I've gotta say I'm surprised he actually didn't."

"I've got to say I'm surprised too."

•••

For the next few weeks, the only thing on your mind was Pedro. You couldn't stop thinking about what he might have said or what he thought when he found out you were going to work together. This war between you and your brain was pretty stupid because you could just call him or send him a quick text.

Hey, guess what? We're finally going to work together! :)

Simple as that.

The problem was that you didn't want to be the one to bring it up first. You weren't the type to hold a grudge over trivial matters, but here you were, silently punishing him for what he did last month.

One of your last shows on the tour was in New York, and as usual, you invited most of your friends. Even though Pedro had been living in London for the last few months, you still sent him a text inviting him. He had taken a flight for other stuff, so it was safe to assume he would make the effort for this as well.

You: Hey! I know you're in London, but my show at MSG is next week, and everyone's coming. I would like for you to come too :)

Pedrito: Hi, my schedule here is pretty tight for next week. I'm sorry. Next time?

You: Bummer. Sure.

Despite your disappointment, you understood the situation perfectly. His work schedule has become quite hectic recently, as he has been traveling and shooting movies in various locations such as Hawaii, Boston, and now London. Your schedules no longer seemed to be in sync, and neither of you made an effort to rearrange your plans to fit the other. 

Those months he spent filming with Oscar in Hawaii were by far the worst. Mostly because they were having fun and you weren't part of it. To put it mildly, the FOMO nearly killed you. The group chat and his Instagram were filled with pictures of them surfing, hiking, and exploring the island while you were miles away alone.  

The night of the show arrived, and everything went smoothly as planned, leaving you with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. That later changed when, backstage, in the midst of winding down, Oscar approached you with a smile, "Too bad Pedro couldn't make it, he would've loved this outfit."

You smile as you look down at your own stage outfit, knowing he'd like it because of its purple color.

"Too bad he's in London," you reply back.

Oscar's face falls slightly as he responds, "London?"

You nod as you chug down the last of your water bottle.

"No, he got here days ago," he says, huffing a laugh. "I called him so we could ride together, but he never answered. I figured I would run into him here."

"Oh."

Oscar's expression is slightly puzzled, as if he's trying to connect the dots between the two statements. "Is everything okay between you guys?"

You wanted to lie so bad; say yes and play it cool. After all, that's what you two have been doing for the past nine months: playing pretend. But this whole exchange has caught you off guard, and you're not sure if you want to continue with the facade or finally be honest about the situation.

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

For days, you tried to brush it off and convince yourself that it was no big deal, but deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and hurt. He had been there and chose not to go. Not even a call or text to explain or apologize. Nothing.

So, no. You weren't going to text him first, were you?

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

If somebody had told Pedro three years ago that he would be starring as a bounty-hunting badass in a signature Star Wars series, he would've laughed in their face. But here he was, about to start the table read for the first episode of The Mandalorian, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as he waited to see how his character would come to life on screen.

It was a pinch-me moment. He had come a long way since his early days as a struggling actor, and he was grateful for the opportunity to work with such talented people on a project that was sure to be groundbreaking. As he looked around the room at his fellow cast members and crew, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Until his eyes landed on you.

He then felt shame and guilt for how he handled things a month before. He knows he fucked up. You're sitting across from him, the heavy, discerning quality of your gaze sending shivers down his spine. It's as if you're peering right through him, past the gleaming politeness to the rough edges beneath. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.

Your expression says, "Wipe that smile off your face. There's nothing to be happy about."

He was convincing himself that he didn't exactly know what drove him not to tell you the truth about his availability. Except he did. His time away from you had allowed him to get you out of his system, and he didn't want to fall back down the maybe-I-have-feelings-for you rabbit hole again. So in true Pedro fashion, he avoided it.

He knew he'd be back in New York for your concert when you texted him. Yet he boldly lied. And it bit him in the ass.

He couldn't throw away all the progress the two of you had made, so he knew he had to make amends for his behavior before it was too late. He made a mental note to talk to you after the reading was over.

•••

The reading was over in what seemed like an eyeblink. You were so thrilled to be part of this, and even given everything that has happened between you two, you would be lying if you said you weren't happy you're doing this with him.

Though you weren't doing a particularly good job of displaying it. You barely talked to him when you got here, quickly exchanging hellos and moving on to something else.

You were settling into your trailer with your agent, going over some details, when you heard a knock. Your agent quickly rises to unlock the door as you continue to put some of your things in a drawer. When the door opens, you hear him before you see him. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor!"

Taylor couldn't help but laugh at his antics, and you can't either. A smile formed on your lips as you closed the drawer before collecting yourself and remembering that you were really mad at him.

"Pedro, long time no see!" she says as they hug and exchange pleasantries.

Taylor looks my way. "I am going to get some of those snacks we saw earlier," she says, "I'll be back in a bit."

As she exits the trailer, you make your way to the door. Pedro is standing there, dressed in a black sweatshirt, olive green trousers, and white sneakers, which you can only describe as attractive.

Needless to say, he was making it difficult for you to hate him right now.

•••

Pedro's mind goes completely blank when he sees you; it's as if he has forgotten everything else around him and all he can focus on is you, making it hard for him to form coherent sentences.

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

"Is that why you came here?" you inquire, "to tell me my hair's pretty?"

"No, I came here to apologize," he replies back as he steps into the trailer and closes the door behind him. He watches you sit on the edge of the sofa that adorned the room, hands on each side of you, waiting for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath. "I know I messed up and hurt you. I just wanted to make things right, kid."

"Why?"

"Because you’re the last person in the world I want to upset. That would be, like, devastating."

"Hmm," you hum, a blank expression on your face, "you're not doing a very good job at it."

Pedro couldn't help but smirk at your jab, "Clearly. You looked like you were plotting my murder in there."

"Oh, I already know where I'm going to hide your body."

His laugh fills the room, and your face softens. He began walking towards the couch, and you both slumped back into it at the same time. "It's nothing really; I'm over it," you say, staring at the wall.

Pedro tilts his head to look at you, "When will you learn that you're so bad at lying that it's not worth even trying?"

You face him, your beautiful eyes catching him off guard. "This is the worst apology ever, by the way."

"I know, princesa," he says softly. "But I mean it. I'm sorry I didn't go, and I'm sorry it took me this long to apologize."

You slowly nod, your face displaying a hint of uncertainty. As if you're trying to figure out whether he's sincere or not, which he wishes you didn't have to even wonder about. "It's okay if you didn't want to go; I just wish you would've said that instead of lying and making me look like an idiot, P."

No, no, no. I wanted to go, but I'm a fucking coward.

Your words pierced him like a dagger, and the pang of guilt washed over him again. He's been drowning in it for the past few weeks, but to actually hear the disappointment in your voice is a completely different beast.

Before he could even muster up a response, you speak again, "But I forgive you."

Pedro's breathing slowed down as you placed a hand on his thigh, and he heard those words. He reciprocated the gesture and then put his hand over yours, gripping it softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Good," he says, "because now we can properly freak out about this," excitement overflowing through him as he couldn't keep it in anymore.

He needed to share this with you. When the creators of the show approached him, you were the first person that came to his mind. One of the things you've always wanted to be part of was Star Wars, so he knew you would be jealous to find out he was cast in this and couldn't wait to give you a hard time, just like Oscar did when he got the role of Poe.

That plan quickly fell apart when the creators revealed they were bringing you aboard, and even though it meant he couldn't torture you any longer, he was overjoyed you were going to be by his side in this.

“You must be ecstatic,” you tell him, your hands still connected, "this is a big deal."

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

"I did," you attempt to correct yourself, but it’s too late. Pedro has already saved the words for later in his mind. "I mean, we did! We all did. Your friends, I mean. We knew things were only going to get better for you. Even before I met you, I knew you were going to do great things. Sarah talked about it all the time, too, and we're pretty sure this is only the beginning."

He's stunned at the rambling explanation of your thoughts about his rising career. He looks at you with gratitude in his eyes, feeling fortunate to have supportive people like you in his life who believe in him.

The lack of hesitation in your voice did the opposite of what your words had done; it cooled down the hope that had lit up like a flame in his chest.

"Now, come on, let's find Taylor and those snacks," you tell him as you rise up from the couch and extend your hand to him, "I'm hungry, and we still have costume fittings," you add. He puts his hand in yours, restraining himself and letting you struggle to pull him up as you try your hardest to do so.

"You asshole!" you yell, tightening your grip on his hand, "Stop that and get up!"

He can't stop laughing as you finally manage to pull him up. "you need to work on your strength, baby," he says between chuckles.

You scoff and playfully hit him on the shoulder, "My strength is fine, thank you."

"Ow! Who's the asshole now?" he exclaims, rubbing his shoulder.

“And don't call me baby,” you tell him. "I forgave you, but that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

"I don't think it works that way, baby."

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

The next two months were amazing, to say the least. It's as if all the two of you needed was to work together on a TV series to realize how much you needed to be together. Just like your on-screen characters, you two were tied to work together by a third thing, that thing being, of course, the child.

Speaking of the child, you were obsessed with it. You couldn't believe a green, Yoda-like animatronic puppet could win your heart in such a short period of time, but here you were. It was magical. Truth be told, everything about The Mandalorian was magical.

Every day you had to step on that immaculate set that's built and surrounded by volume, which creates an infinite sort of visual experience in terms of skies, planets, space, ships, and all kinds of things, was magical.

It just felt like you were stepping onto these highly sophisticated amusement park rides, with very little being left to the imagination because of how incredible the design work is from all the departments.

Another magical thing was seeing Pedro bring the character to life. His ability to convey so much depth and complexity to a character that is mostly hidden behind a mask is truly impressive. From crafting his "Mandalorian" walk and stance to his deep, jarring voice.

That voice.

That voice was made to torture you and send shivers down your spine. That voice made you forget all of your life's problems. Actually, that voice was made for one thing and one thing only, the bedroom.

"Oh my god, it doesn't sound like a bedroom voice!" he protested, as he highlighted lines in his script.

You were joining him and the creators in the recording booth for his voiceover session.

"It does! It's a sexy bedroom voice." you teased, making everyone laugh. "That's not very Disney of you, P." 

He gets closer to the mic and whispers, voice altered because of the modulator, "Bite me."

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

You were having as much fun as you could. Simply put, you two were menaces on set.

You could tell Jon, Dave, and the rest of the crew were patient with your antics, but it was clear that they were also entertained by your on-set dynamic. It's not everyday that you get to work with your best friend, and you two made it everyone's problem.

Although sometimes you have to admit you take it a little too far.

"Catch me if you can, Boba Fett wannabe!" you scream.

Pedro was chasing you through the set with a prop sword, trying to get you to stop teasing him about his costume. "You are one insult away from getting a taste of this sword!"

"Okay, tin can man!"

You were running away from him as fast as you could, hoping to find a place to hide before he caught up with you. You quickly hide behind one of the makeup trailers and peek out to see him come to a stop, catching his breath. He was wearing his Beskar getup, minus the helmet.

“Give up yet, old man?"

He laughs. "We're being extra cruel today, huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary pause and facing away from where you were hiding, you slowly inch closer to him, trying not to make a sound. As you get within arm's reach, you draw one of your prop knives from your costume pocket and hold it to his back. Using your free hand to hold him steady, you lean in and whisper in his ear, "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

He turns his head slightly, and you can see the smirk on his face. "That's my line, thief."

Before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. He takes hold of you and tightens his grasp on your waist. "Let me go, P!"

You struggle to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. "I am going to squeeze you so hard you will fart," he chuckles.

You snort. "You have such a way with words."

As you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you accidentally elbow him in the face, causing him to release his hold on you and stumble into a piece of plywood that had been propped up.  

"Aw, fuck!" he cries out, clutching his nose.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" you rush to him, cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

He removes his hand from his nose, revealing a cut and a trickle of blood. "It's alright, just a bloody nose," he says calmly.

You touch his nose gingerly, and he winces in pain. "Nevermind, I think it is broken."

•••

You begged Jon to let you ride to the hospital with them; after all, this was your fault. When you get there, the doctors rush to Pedro's side and begin examining him.

If you weren't preoccupied with being mortified over this, you'd laugh.

The scene before you is straight out of a sitcom, with Jon frantically explaining the situation to the doctors, Pedro in full costume with fake injuries and blood that you were pretty sure the doctors thought were real, and you standing there with an expression that screamed: Hey! It's me! I did this!

After a couple of minutes of clearing up that it was an accident and that the blood coming out of his ears was fake and not the cause of a brain hemorrhage, one of the doctors led us to a room to examine his nose.

"It's not broken," the doctor said, as she prepared to clean the wound. "He's just going to need a couple of stitches."

"Oh great, we still need to finish a scene, and they're waiting for us." Jon replies.

"This will take 15 minutes, tops," she says, grabbing a tray of medical supplies. “I will be fast.” 

"I'll call the guys," Jon tells you as he exits the room.

You nod in agreement and stand in a corner as you silently watch the doctor carefully clean, anesthetize and stitch up the wound. You feel relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. 

After she finishes, Pedro thanks her, and she nods with a smile. "You're going to need to take some analgesics for the pain. I'm gonna go grab my prescription pad. I'll be right back."

She exits the room, and you walk over to Pedro. He moves his head slightly, showing off his nose.

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I can't believe I ruined your perfect nose."

"Who said it isn't perfect still?" he says it as if it were a challenge. His brow is arched, with the tiniest smirk hidden in one corner of his mouth.

"Don't start. I'm mortified."

"Tranquila, princesa. I said it was okay after you apologized 20 times on our way here," he reassures you. "Plus, now we have a funny story to tell during our press tour next year."

You sigh. "I guess you're right."

"You know," he says, "what hurts right now is that today is our last day of shooting. I can't believe it's been two months already. Time fucking flew."

Your heart sinks as you're once again reminded that this amazing experience is coming to an end. The day you've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and you're not ready to say goodbye. It's not like you already know you'll be back next year for the next season, but you're not ready to say goodbye to him and the daily routine you've formed, which mostly consists of breakfasts together, long hours on set, and late-night movie marathons. 

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," you muttered, "gonna miss our little routine."

Pedro studies you. "Maybe we can extend it for a little while longer."

Not knowing where this is going, you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Pedro smiles, "I..I was thinking maybe... maybe you could come with me to Chile for Christmas with the family." 

Your heart skips a beat as you process Pedro's words. You open your mouth slightly to say something, but you close it again, momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation. 

"Uh… I know you probably have plans with your family,” he interjects, “but I thought this would be a good time for you to finally meet my father and the rest of the family, and—" 

Before he could finish, you nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas in Chile with Pedro and his family, “Yes, I would love to." 

You've never seen him smile as broadly as he does now, and you know that you have made the right decision. 

New York City

December 15, 2018

“Dude, he invited you to his hometown with his family, and you still think that man has no feelings for you?” 

“Taylor...” you paused, picking up a clothing item that had fallen to the floor. “It's just a friendly gesture.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he invites everyone to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Sureee.” 

You didn't want to go there; you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't get entangled in what ifs, so your friend's teasing wasn't helping you keep those thoughts at bay. 

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that. I know he doesn't,” you say, suddenly remembering that night when you overheard him telling Sarah how he felt about you. “Plus, as my agent, you more than anyone know I can't do relationships right now; my life's too busy." 

Taylor finished zipping up the last of your bags for the trip and gave you a reassuring smile. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little fun, does it? And who knows—maybe he has changed his mind. Just enjoy the trip and have fun." 

No, he hasn’t changed his mind. 

“Yeah, I just want to have a good time, really. Things have been so good between us these past couple of months, It just feels...right again. I don’t wanna mess it up.” 

"Understandable, bestie. However, I think you’re both making a huge mistake.” 

You shake your head in amusement. “Thanks for helping me pack.” 

“Thanks?” she scoffs. "I'm expecting a raise." 

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

After the chaos of the day leading up to the flight, it was actually a relief to be sitting here. The large, comfortable seat, with your feet tucked up under you as you gazed out the jet window, felt very much deserved.  

While the gentle buzz of the flight filled your ears, you laid your head against the window of the plane and watched the clouds and the seemingly endless expanse of sky fly by.

As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention on what was outside the plane rather than allowing your mind to wander to what would await you once you arrived at your destination. The mixture of excitement and exhaustion lulled you into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the journey that lay ahead. 

•••

The taxi ride from the airport to the Balmaceda-Pascal's was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, but you couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder and curiosity as you took in the new surroundings. As the car comes to a stop in front of the house, you shoot Pedro a quick text. 

You: I'm here, tonto. 

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta. 

Since you still had a few things to attend to in New York, he had arrived two days earlier. After insisting like a madman that he could pick you up from the airport and you insisting like a madwoman that you could easily get there on your own, he gave up and let you take a cab. 

The driver has already gotten out of the car to wrestle the luggage from the trunk. You clamber out after him into the brilliant sunlight, the heat instantly making your travel outfit—which consisted of a pair of black leggings, a sweatshirt, and Pedro's Freaky Tales green hoodie—feel suffocatingly thick. The change in temperature is a shock to your system, having just come from New York's freezing climate. 

“Hey you!” Pedro's booming voice interrupts your thoughts, “Nice hoodie. Where'd you get it?” 

“Um, someone left it at my place a while ago, and I decided to keep it. It's really comfy.” 

Pedro smiles and nods, "It suits you. You should wear it more often." 

“Thanks, but not here,” you tell him, your face flushing from the heat. ”It's burning hot."  

“Welcome to Chile, where it's scorching hot during the winter and freezing cold during the summer,” he says in a joking tone, as he tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Let's get inside, it's cooler.”  

The moment you stepped into the house, you were greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning. The house was lovely. You take in the Mediterranean decor style and the large windows that let in natural light as you look around. On either side of the foyer, stone archways lined the way up two stories to an ornate ceiling.

As you make your way to the living room, you catch a glimpse of the various family pictures that adorn the walls. The living room was spacious and inviting, with plush couches and a fireplace that made you feel right at home. 

Dropping your bags next to the stairs that led to the second floor, Pedro places a hand in your back and gestures you towards a hallway, “C'mon, everyone is out back.” 

At the back of the house, tangled trees press close, the forest extending as far as you can see, and off to the left, in the meadow, a gazebo adorned with wild grapes stands within a smaller thicket of trees. Bright glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders swing in the branches, and the path cuts past a row of flowering bushes before curving onto a footbridge and then disappearing into the mountains on the far side. 

It's like something out of a storybook. Charming, picturesque, and perfect. 

“You're here!” A familiar voice drew your attention back to earth. “And right on time. How was your flight?” 

Pedro's sister, Javiera, lit up with a smile as she hugged you tightly. You returned the embrace, grateful for her warm welcome. "It was long, but good nonetheless," you replied with a smile.  

“Well, if it isn't the infamous best friend I keep hearing about?” you turned around to see Pedro's father approach you with a friendly smile on his face. 

"Yup, that's me," you reply, extending your hand for a handshake. 

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, shaking your hand. "Pedro talks about you all the time."

“I hope good things,” you chuckle, “and it's great to finally meet you too, Mr. Balmaceda.” 

“Oh, please call me José,” he tells you, waving his hands. Just like his son, you notice that José has a warm and welcoming personality, making you feel at ease. “And please, make yourself feel at home; we're thrilled to have you.” 

“No, he's thrilled to have a world famous superstar staying at his house,” Nicolás, Pedro's brother, retorts back at his father. Making everyone laugh and leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Oh, I don't know about being a superstar," you say lowly. 

“Are you kidding?" Nicolás cuts you off as he takes a seat, "Don't be modest. It's literally an honor to have you here." 

“Yeah, you're sooo cool,” Javiera's older son added. 

"Okay, alright, that's enough." Javiera must have noticed your embarrassed expression. She reached out to you and held you by the shoulders, reassuring you. “Let's not overwhelm her with too much praise. Let's give her some space, she must be tired." 

And she was right. The almost 12 hour flight has left you feeling exhausted, jet lagged, and in need of a very long nap. 

"Vamos princesa, I'll take you to your room." Pedro turned around and led the way towards the room while you followed him closely, trying to keep your eyes open and fighting the urge to just collapse on the floor. 

As you reached the second floor, your attention was drawn back to the house. “This place is so gorgeous, P.” 

“We got it a couple of years ago. We wanted something a little bit bigger so we could have everyone over for vacations, and we also wanted something that felt like home, you know?” 

“I love it,” you tell him.  

“This is your room,” he says, jerking his chin at the door on the right, “and this is mine.” 

He opens the door to the room on the left. His room, much like mine, is absolutely huge. The bed is along the wall immediately to your right as you enter, a recklessly comfortable looking king size bed doused under the weight of a fluffy duvet and an insane amount of pillows.

The bedding is bright white and contrasts sharply with the dark wooden floorboards. "Your bed looks like a big fluffy cloud," you say, giggling. 

"It feels like one," he says, smiling. He can tell what you're thinking by the look in your eyes,"Go on, I know you want to." 

Like a little kid, you start running towards the bed, feeling the softness of the plush carpet under your feet. As you sink into the bed, you realize that it's even more comfortable than it looks, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh. 

“P, I’m never moving again,” you say, your voice drifting over to him. 

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

“Hmm, why exactly?” you turn over onto your stomach and lean against your elbows to face him. 

"Because it's my bed," he simply states, "and I have plenty of plans that don't include you spending the entire trip in my bed."  

Bravery takes over, and you give him a playful smirk. "Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure those plans change then."

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Good luck with that, sweetheart.”

You know this is cruel. You were torturing yourself. Being so optimistic was cruel, but because of your longing and deep, hidden desires, you couldn't help but indulge in silly fantasies and play along. 

“Alright, I'll go to mine,” you say with a forced smile as you get off the bed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I need to nap right now, or I'll die.” 

“I will, uh, come get you for dinner later.” 

“Sure, boss,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as you walk past him to leave the room.  

“Sweet dreams.” 

In the past four days, you've learned many things.

First, Chile was sickeningly beautiful. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the breathtaking scenery of the Andes Mountains made you feel like you were in a dream. It spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt, with each square representing a different aspect of its culture and history. From the bustling city streets to the serene beaches.

The food was also a highlight, and you're pretty sure you gained a few pounds from indulging in the delicious local cuisine.

“Here, try this one.”

“That's the biggest empanada I've ever seen in my life,” you exclaimed as you took a bite of the savory pastry, filled with juicy meat and vegetables. “This is so fucking good.”

Pedro chuckles. “It's filled with a mixture called Pino.” 

“Okay, forget the manjar. This,” you say, mouth full, “is my new favorite thing in this country.” 

Pedro gasps. “I thought I was your favorite thing in this country.” 

You grin and give him a playful nudge. "Okay, fine. You're still my favorite, but this empanada might take the top spot."  

“That's better,”  you look up at him, trying not to melt then and there at the signature wide grin spread across Pedro's gorgeous face. “But you know, there's still plenty of time for me to prove that I deserve the top spot.” 

You chuckle at his remark, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We'll see about that, Pascal," you reply, taking another bite of the delicious empanada and secretly hoping he succeeds in his mission. 

•••

Second, Pedro's family were the warmest hosts you could have imagined, eager to share their traditions and stories with you. They accepted you as one of their own and made you feel like a member of the family.

They took you on various adventures throughout the city, showing you hidden gems that only locals knew about. The tradition of taking a trip to a hiking site outside the city whenever all of them got together was in motion and this year it was the Valley of the Moon's turn.

“That hike was so worth it, guys," Nico says, a little out of breath from climbing up the steep trail. 

Damn right, it was. As you're standing atop a giant sand dune, you're bewildered by what you're witnessing. The view as the sun slips below the horizon is out of this world. The ring of volcanoes and surreal lunar landscapes of the valley are suddenly suffused with intense purples, pinks, and golds. It's the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen. 

You quickly grab the camera that's hanging around your neck and start taking pictures, trying to capture the breathtaking moment before it fades away. “Guys, get together!” you shout, “A family photo with this stunning backdrop is a must.”  

As you finish taking the pictures, Pedro's voice breaks the silence, “Javi, grab the camera and take one of us, please.” 

You comply and hand the camera to her. Pedro sneaks a hand around your waist and pulls you close, “Smile, princesa.” 

“Don't tell me what to do,"  you playfully retort, leaning into him and smiling for the camera. 

•••

And third, Pedro has always had a thing for theatrics. Today, some of you decided to take a trip to the beach. The heat was unbearable, and the cool ocean water sounded like the perfect way to beat it.  

He would often come out of the ocean dramatically, splashing water all around and pretending to be a sea monster to scare his nephews. As soon as he saw the waves, he ran towards them and jumped into the water with a loud roar. His nephews laughed and cheered him on as he swam towards them, pretending to be a giant creature ready to attack. 

After spending most of the day in the water, you were sitting down on the sand, attempting to make sand castles with one of Pedro's cousins. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing, making you feel relaxed. “My god, he's like a kid,” you tell her, looking at Pedro as he continued to play with his nephews, now closer to the shore. 

She laughs. “He's always been like this. As a child, he was always playful and energetic, and he never lost that spirit as he grew up. It's one of the many things we love about him."

The sandcastle you were working on was slowly starting to take shape. Pedro's cousin continued to build it and tell you stories about him, letting nostalgia wash over you.

She told you about his grandfather and how he used to take them to watch double features of old movies, and how that heavily influenced Pedro's love for storytelling and cinema. You didn’t know him then, and you'll never understand why it feels like you did. “But you know, one of my absolute favorite memories is when he recited Hamlet here on the beach with Grandpa." 

“Actually, it was Death of a Salesman, cousin.”  

His voice startles you as you turn to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face. "I do remember that day," he continued as he lowered himself onto the sand behind you, legs on each side of your body. He places a hand on your thigh for a brief moment as he settles behind you before removing it.

You want nothing more than to reach out and put his hand back on you, to insist he keep touching you but you don’t. 

He starts helping you with the sandcastle, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his familiar warmth spread through your body. Droplets of water from his hair fall onto your warm skin, and the small elephant tattoo on his right inner thigh catches your eye as he reaches for a shovel,  "I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it but lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the States.” 

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.” 

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I can reenact it for you.” 

“Please do.”  

•••

Pedro suggested you two go outside and stargaze with a glass of wine after returning from the beach. The evening summer breeze was much cooler than the daytime breeze. You were both sitting on the back porch, leaning back on the cushioned chair, the wooden floor creaking under your weight.

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”  

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Pedrito?”

You can't help but stare as Pedro throws back his head, a bellowing laugh escaping him into the quiet night air. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if that means another bottle of wine, then so be it." 

He reaches for your glass, hands touching briefly, and pours you some more. Even in the dark, the blinding white of his smile and the twinkle in those achingly beautiful brown eyes are impossible to miss.

With the moon low in the sky, his silhouette was even clearer to you: the way the bridge of his nose dips into the top of the large glass, the delicate hold of his fingers on the stem, and the mess of his hair.

Cicadas screamed into the night air as the taste of the rich, velvety wine danced on your tongue. Now, slightly tipsy on the red wine, you were nearly too lost in your memory of the moment to notice that Pedro had turned his head from above to look at you. Clearly, your staring had captured his attention, but you went to stare resolutely at the night sky again. 

He sobered quickly, but his eyes never left you. You felt the weight of his lingering stare and were thankful that the darkness of the night and warmth of the fire covered your suddenly flushed cheeks. “Excited for Christmas tomorrow?” you ask softly, trying to break the tension with a light-hearted question. 

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile, "but I'm more excited that you get to spend it with us."

A warmth filled your chest, and if your cheeks weren't already blushing already, they certainly were now, but you wouldn’t look away from him. The meaning wasn’t lost on you. “Thank you for inviting me, really. I thought I was going to be sad, but you guys have made me feel at home." 

Pedro frowns. “What do you mean? About being sad.”  

“I kind of hate this season now because it reminds me how lonely I am,” you chuckle, gripping the wine glass slightly tighter. “And don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends, but after you spend years with someone, Christmas just feels different without them around, you know? It's like...” you trail off, trying to put into words the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you. “Like there's a void that can't be filled no matter how many people are around you. And-and it's not like I miss that person in particular, I just miss having someone.” 

His unblinking eyes hadn’t left yours, and you continued, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally get that out of your system. “I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s just a reminder that things change. you meet people and you love them, and then you lose them. It's inevitable, and it happens to everyone.” 

It falls quiet between you again, the familiarity of the years of friendship meaning you are both comfortable with it. The weight of what you just said still hangs heavy in the air until he nods slowly, breaking the silence. “I get it. I feel the same way somehow,” you tear your eyes away from the constellations above to stare at him quizzically, a raised eyebrow telling him to elaborate. 

He huffs out a laugh, as if he's amused by your confusion or embarrassed by his own vulnerability, and continues, “I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't date. I'm saving myself from that.”

“Yeah, I guess now I am too,” you respond, nodding in understanding.

"Also, not to sound like an arrogant asshole—" 

“Which you probably will anyway,” you add in a playful tone. 

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he says mockingly. “But my schedule is busy, if I wanna be involved in something, I want to pay attention to it and nurture it. It takes energy to be with someone.” 

“It's not arrogant, it's the truth. I was telling Taylor the same thing the other day,” you tell him. “I can't date because I don't have the time to, but...” 

“But what?” Pedro interrupts. 

“Don't rush me, dude,” you chuckle. “But I'm also human, and I have needs sometimes, and it sucks that I can't just go to a bar like a regular person and sit on the barstool, have a drink, and wait for someone to approach me so we can go to their place and have sex and forget about it the next morning,” you finally admit, staring down at your finger swirling over the rim of your glass. 

“No strings attached," he adds, his voice scratchy. “I, um, ha. I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.”

“Hooking up with someone like that in our world would involve lots of NDAs,” you say, laughing. 

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.” 

His eyes were doing the thing, the Pedro thing, and you did your best to ignore the way your heart lurched. The moment was charged with tension, and you both knew that there was more to say, and since neither of you dared to break the silence, someone else decided to break it for you, clearing their throat loudly and making you both jump. You turn to see Javiera standing by the door, looking amused and a little bit smug. 

"I just wanted to let you guys know the rest of us are going out for dinner, in case you're interested in joining us," she said, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Uh, no. Thanks, I'm beat. The wine has made me sleepy.” 

“I'm gonna have to pass too, sis,” Pedro tells her. “You guys have fun.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with a sly smile. “We'll be back late!” 

After she leaves, you stand up and stretch your arms, feeling the effects of the wine yourself. “Woah. Too much wine,” you chuckle. “I should head to bed now before I regret it in the morning.”

“Me too,” he breathes out as he gets up, collecting his glass and yours. "Goodnight, princesa," he adds with a smile before you head towards the door. “Goodnight, P.” 

•••

As soon as you entered your room, you immediately hopped in the shower, hoping to wash away the exhaustion from the day and also the dirty thoughts that had been lurking in your mind.

The warm water cascading down your body helped ease the tension in your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh. After a few minutes, you stepped out and changed into fresh clothes. 

As you lie in bed, the conversation you had an hour before with Pedro seems to replay in your mind. 

I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cross that line again. The last time you took that black, bold line and made it gray, it came with consequences. But you're not known for making the best decisions when it comes to these matters anyway. 

You start to feel anxious and restless, unable to quiet your thoughts or fall asleep.

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

As you walk out of the bedroom, everything is dark, meaning everyone is still out for dinner. You have only the soft glow of the city outside the large windows to guide your way. 

Hesitating as you walk through the hallway towards the stairs, you slow your steps, not entirely trusting your eyes to keep you from running into anything in the dark, unfamiliar space in such low light. Before you reach the stairs, you notice the light underneath Pedro's room, casting a faint glow onto the hallway carpet.

He's still up, you thought. 

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were heading toward his room. 

“Pedro?” you call out his name as you gently knock on the door, “You up?”

“Bathroom! Come in!”  he screams. You reach the doorknob and push it open. The sound of water running fills your ears as you step inside. You plop down sideways on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, and wait for him to finish his shower. The chilly night air seeps in through the slightly open door of his balcony, making you shiver. 

“Can't sleep?” His voice is soft and soothing as he walks out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and wearing only black boxers. You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the way just looking at his face, with his golden skin from all the sun exposure, the shadow of dark scruff on his cheeks, and his brown eyes crinkled by a soft smile, makes your heart race. 

“Nope,” you mumble. “Too much on my mind, I guess.” 

“Enlighten me, please,” he quickly replies, returning to the bathroom. You get off the bed, take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself, but the sight of him in those boxers makes it difficult. You know that if you start talking about what's really on your mind, things might get even more complicated between the two of you. 

“Uh...” you huffed out a laugh as the scenario played in your head, your legs almost giving out as you felt your guts twisting. Your mouth fell slightly agape as he stepped back into the room, “What's so funny?” he inquired. You fidget with your fingers and look at him, still chuckling a bit, “That conversation we had earlier. I can't stop thinking about it," 

Pedro leaned against the bathroom door, his face puzzled, reflecting that he had no idea which of the many conversations you two had today you were referring to. “The one about hooking up, I mean. And how you wish you could do that too," you continue, not bothering to try and hide the small beginnings of a smile from Pedro's watchful gaze, entirely more interested in testing the waters than anything else.

“Oh?” is all Pedro gives by way of a reply, not that you mind much since that works just as well as a real answer theoretically could. “Oh," you confirm. This could go either way, but as of right now, you're willing to take the risk. 

His gaze is fixed on you, and you go back to lying on the bed, closing your eyes as if you're bracing for the impact of the unknown. “I was wondering if—and I might be making a complete fool of myself by saying this—but what if...” you trail off. "What if we..?” you can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, suddenly realizing that once you say it, you can't take it back. 

“Fucked?” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open, surprised by his bluntness. You sit up on the bed, heart racing as you try to gather the courage to speak. “I mean, we-we know each other, and we're both horny, and we wouldn't have to sign any NDAs,” you joke, trying to lift the weight off the air.  

"That's true," Pedro quips quickly, though any hint of eagerness in his reply is tempered by the softness of his voice. You feel the blush that rises in your cheeks at the implication in his words and you look away, seemingly breaking the trance you’ve been in. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“Would you rather have me say no?” he chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans one shoulder into the doorframe and deciding that for now he’ll stay where he is, knowing he looks like a smug jerk but unable to help himself. 

“No!” you tell him, rather eagerly. “I mean, of course you can say no. We don't have to do this if you're not into it,” you add softly. 

He says your name and looks into your eyes, "My answer's yes.”

“Okay, but I have some rules,” you get off the bed, body tensed with anticipation. “Of course you do,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrow and giving you a knowing smile. 

“No feelings. This can only happen while we're here. Once we go back to our normal lives, this never happened,” you tell him. He nods, taking a slow step forward and then another, and although there’s still a great deal of space between the two of you, you can feel the tension building. "Also, we can't tell anybody about this, not even our closest friends,” you continue.

He's closer now, feeling his breath on your face, and his hands find their way to your waist. "It's our little secret," he whispers, and you grab his shoulders to steady yourself.

“And no nicknames. No princesa, no baby, no love,” you try to sound stern but your voice betrays the excitement you feel. 

He grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But there's no fun in that.” 

“Fine. You can call me whatever you want,” you give in, finding his amusement endearing.  

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles, his grin widening. “Are you done with your rules?” 

“Yes, I guess so,” you stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so easily swayed by his charm. 

“Good,” he says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “So I can start doing this,” he whispers, his hand sliding down your pajama shorts, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. "And this," he adds, as his lips press against your neck. 

When you finally make yourself let go and stop fighting for some false sense of restraint for even one second longer, you notice that something changes in the way Pedro touches you, as if he's more confident and sure of himself.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your head to hold you in place. You do the same, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders for support. The tip of his finger under your shorts traces over where you’re slick and too ready for him. His mouth is tantalizingly close to yours, brown eyes staring into yours, pining and desperately waiting. “Can I?” he asks. 

It's humorous and sweet even that he's asking permission to kiss you when one of his hands is already under your pants. Every rational thought disappears, and you crush your mouth against his. 

Everything is slow and heavy, and he never lets his finger slide into you even when you silently beg for it. Just dragging it over and back—too little and too much all at the same time.

He presses the pad of his finger into your clit, and you have to break away from his mouth to groan, overwhelmed, knees wobbly. Pedro laughs quietly and nuzzles against your neck so his beard scruffs. 

“Mi princesa,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly, “you make such pretty sounds." 

There is a real chance you could spontaneously combust into flames just from the sound of his voice and his sweet nothings. He continues to draw circles on your clit making you moan and writhe in pleasure, feeling like you're about to explode with ecstasy. As he whispers more sweet words in your ear, you can't help but surrender to the intense sensations he's giving you.  

“Is that good?” he asks, his voice rough, “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes," you whisper, a hand traveling to his hair, tugging it tightly. “Yes.” 

Just when you're about to come undone, he suddenly stops. Your eyes quickly find his for some explanations as to why he decided to put on hold the very satisfying and impending orgasm that was building up within you. “Oops,” he simply states, a grin plastered on his face.  

“I fucking hate you,” you whine, pulling away from him. “I was so close! What you do that for?”

"I have some rules, too."

“Now?” you ask him, clearly frustrated with his antics. “Well, go on.” 

“Actually, it's just one,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrows and giving you a knowing smile. His reaction is met by narrowed eyes, like you’re making sure to watch him closely until you figure out where exactly he’s going with this. "You do as I say. Which also means you come when I say." 

“Sounds—” you're regaining your footing, regaining control over yourself, trying to reinstate some power, but the way he just said those words has taken away any sense of authority you thought you had. His voice is commanding, with no room for compromise or disobedience. “Sounds dangerous, but... alright.” 

“Good girl, now get on the bed,” he says, and the timbre of his voice nearly kills you then and there, the dropping pitch making the words come out rough and serious. Pedro still sounds like himself, since his normal voice is more than enough to make you a little weak at the knees on a regular day, this new variant is a completely different monster. 

You lay there, waiting for his next instruction, as the shadows danced on the walls and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence. Once he reaches the bed and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of your thighs, bending down until he’s face to face with you, your eyes level with his. You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his torso, feeling his tense muscles relax under your touch. 

“I need you now, P,” you mumble, and you move your hand lower to hold him through his boxers. He twitches into you. 

“What did I say?” his dark eyes are fixed on you as he reaches for your hand and pins it above your head. "I don't think you fully understand the consequences of disobeying me. We'll do this my way," he whispers menacingly.

This dark side of Pedro is one you've never seen before. The Pedro you know is a sunshine. However, the man on top of you right now is a completely different person, and you're more than the ready to get to know him. 

“Keep your hands above your head. No touching."

Your body is aching for him, all willing and open, but he’s sliding down you, pushing your shorts down as he goes. His soft hands trace your thighs and stops at your knees, “Open up for me.” 

"So pretty," he says, voice thick. You look down to see his face, pupils blown wide. “Can't wait to taste you, baby.” 

You're a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. You don't even need to be looking at his face to know how arrogant he is right now, not that you could—it's buried deep inside between your thighs. You're desperate to grab his hair just to see where misbehaving will take you, but you settle for the headboard. 

He kisses your cunt, messy and hot. A groan rumbles in his throat and he moves his tongue in circles, exploring every inch of your wetness. You arch your back, lost in pleasure, as he continues to devour you with his mouth. When you look down again, his brown eyes are staring back at you as his fingers slide into you, finding the right spot in milliseconds. It's fucking game over. 

His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue and his goddamn nose. “Pedro...” you whimper, out of breath. “P-Please let me cum." 

“Not yet, baby," he chuckles, fingers continue to expertly tease and stroke your sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "I know you can hold it for a little longer,” you cry out, gripping the bedsheets as you desperately try to move your hips to ride his fingers. Your eyes are watering slightly from how good he’s making you feel. 

“You can cum now.”

Every part of your body spasms, and you scream, everything buzzing and vibrating as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and electricity flooding your body. Removing his fingers, he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up to your belly and lips. As you try to catch your breath, he whispers in your ear, "That was just the beginning. I want to make you cum again and again."

You can tell Pedro loves the way your face heats up at his words. “Please do,” you tell him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and your wandering hands are met by bare, warm skin and the short, neatly cropped hair that grows thicker the further down your fingers dare to venture.

“I know you said you're in charge, but I really need you to take this off,” you say, losing your ability to wait for orders. To your surprise, he complies and gets off the bed, slides down his boxers, just as you get rid of your t-shirt. You can't help but admire the sight of him fully exposed and ready for you, moving to the drawer to pull out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself. 

“You can take a picture, it'll last longer." 

“Don't get cocky.”

Pedro settles between you once again, and you grab his face. His eyes glistened, his hot breath on your skin as he leans in closer. Your thumb brushes against the tiny white scar on his nose. “You've marked me forever,” he chuckles, as he cradles your head and kisses you, his nose brushing against yours. 

You grab his length and give him a slow, steady stroke from base to tip, then back down. His mouth leaves yours as his dick twitches in your firm grasp, causing him to groan involuntarily. The pace of your hand up and down his length never picking up or slowing down, instead maintaining the same teasingly slow pace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.” 

Pedro guides himself over you, the head of his cock slipping over where you’re open, up to rub on your clit so your fingers dig into his shoulders. His nose nudges gently against yours, “I'll be gentle, princesa.” 

“I don't want you gentle. I want you rough.” 

“Is that so?”

You moan, eyes closing. You can't even remember how to breathe, let alone speak. Pedro pushes only his head into you, opening you before pulling out, leaving you contracting around nothing. “I'm going to fuck you roughly, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?”

“Yes, P,” you rasp, hands sliding across his back. He's playing with you and knows how to make it almost unbearably good. He pushes deeper into you this time, and you can feel your body resist, protesting that he's too big, too much, and he pulls out. He drags his cock over where you're slick and messy before thrusting forward as far as he can. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, back arching and pushing your stomach into his. "Oh my God.”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Like you're made for me." 

Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, to keep him there, deep inside you. His head drops to your shoulders, pressing his lips to your collarbone. You're close, again.

“Please...” you beg, moaning like you've lost all sanity, his mouth pulls away slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and husky. 

“More, please, I need more."

The way Pedro's fucking you right now borders on dangerous, making you question lots of things—things you'd rather not think about right now, as he reaches for your hand and places it on your lower stomach. “Feel that?” 

You're not sure who moans louder: you when you realize why he's put your hand here, or Pedro when your walls clench involuntarily around his cock at the sensation. Your entire body tightens as you cry out, coming undone once again. 

He presses his lips against your forehead and rolls you over, his cock still buried inside you. 

“Pedro…that was…” you pant, body on top of his. “Did you come?”

He smirks. “Not yet, because you're gonna ride me now.” 

Despite the fact that your body is weak and spent, the simple thought of being on top of him is enough fuel to make you feel a surge of energy. You straddle his hips, feeling his hardness against you, and sinking down on his dick. 

“Like this?” you ask as you begin to move your body in sync with his, Your hips swirl and grind down, and Pedro's face is filled with pleasure. “Yes, mi amor. Just like that.” 

Every rock of your hips and the way Pedro's pushing into you are the perfect rhythm. His hands grip your hips so tight, you're pretty sure it'll leave bruises for days. You lean down, his mouth close by your ear, as he fucks into you, hearing him whisper things only you get to hear. “you feel so good, baby, taking my cock so fucking well.”  

Everything is so overwhelming—your body responding to his every thrust and word. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, and you never want it to end. Collapsing onto his chest, your fingers reach up to grip his hair. The satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes through the room, and you're suddenly glad there's no one in the house. 

Pedro slaps your ass as you're still rocking back against his thrust. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes!” you moaned as your body trembled with pleasure, mouth crashing into his, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back, and you feel him spill into the condom. He curses out your name as he's twitching and spasming inside you.

The post-sex haze settles over you both as you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. After a couple of minutes, Pedro finally slips out of you and heads to the bathroom. You manage to get up, body aching. As you gather your clothes from the floor and dress up, he emerges from the bathroom, his face puzzled.

“What are you doing?” 

You chuckle, “Leaving.” 

Of course you didn't want to leave, but since you agreed this was just sex and nothing more, staying sounds like a dangerous situation.

There's no need to make this situation more complicated than it already is, even if you gaslight yourself into thinking this is fine as long as you're both on the same page. 

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.” 

“Pedro, we said—"

“I know what we said, but stay. Just for tonight.” 

You give him a warning look, and he gives you the same look back. “It'll make me feel dirty if you leave." you burst out laughing, and his face turns red. How's this the same man that just minutes ago was whispering the filthiest things into your ear?  

“Okay, I'll stay.”  

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no signs of Pedro. If you weren't lying on his bed, legs hurting like you ran a marathon, and your body wrapped in his warm blankets, you would have thought it was all a dream. Because in your dreams is the only place you are together, it's where you come home to him and he comes home to you. 

You could still feel his hands moving over your skin, his breath on your neck, and the way he whispered in your ear, making you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

Except it wasn't lovemaking; it was just sex. 

The warmth of the hot chilean sun spilled through the bedroom window, casting a golden glow on the walls and illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air. The distant sound of soft music and laughter from downstairs made you smile as you sat up against the headboard. 

The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Pedro wearing the coziest looking sweater, his dark hair all over the place, and presumably a cup of coffee in his hand. “Good morning, solecito,” he says sitting down next to you. "I made you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it." 

You take the cup from his hand, fingers touching. “It can't possibly still be morning,” you rasp, voice still hoarse. 

“No, it's not," he tells you. “It's 2:30pm.” 

The fear in your face is palpable. “Fuck, did I miss the gift exchange?” you blurt out.

Pedro's pursed lips and guilty expression made it clear that you, in fact, missed the happiest time of the day. “No...” you dragged out, “Why didn't you wake me up?!” you demanded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep, you looked so peaceful," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But if it makes you feel better, everyone loved what you got them." 

You groan in response. “I hate you so much.”

“Are you always this mean when you wake up?" 

You shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “Eh, only when I have to deal with people who make me miss the fun part of Christmas." 

“Let's talk about how my dad got the better gift, by the way,” he tells you, moving his hands energetically. “And how I'm definitely not jealous at all.” 

“I had to impress him, and you can never go wrong with a Rolex,” you remark with a grin. “Plus, you deserve it after doing the most evil thing you could do to me.” 

“You mean caring for your wellbeing and letting you rest after the very... eventful night you had?” he says teasingly. “Shut up,” you reply, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. In true Pedro fashion, he dramatically dodges the pillow and grins slyly, "You can't silence me that easily."

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire. 

Pedro raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “Is that so?”

You hum. The tension is palpable in the air as you look into his eyes, trying to read his face. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart. 

“Wanna see what I got you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled, his eyes still on you. 

“Dying to,” you say, pretending not to notice how he changed the subject, setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, “but first I need to shower before I go downstairs.”

“No need,” he reaches for his front pocket, pulling out a small wrapped package. You eagerly take it from him, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Espero que te guste.”

Tearing the paper off and opening the black box, you find a beautiful necklace with a delicate gold chain and a small emerald pendant. “Now I feel like an asshole,” you say, immediately regretting getting him a bunch of funny socks. Your eyes are still fixed on the necklace. 

Pedro laughs, your favorite sound in the world, “Hey, I love my socks. You didn't have to get me so many though,”

“I didn't know which ones you'd like better, so I got you a bunch of ‘em,” you say, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “This is so beautiful," 

“It's your favorite gemstone," he says softly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything is okay.

You rush forward to embrace him, catching him off guard by the way he chuckles and says oh. He wraps his arms tightly around you, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater and the familiar scent of his cologne. “Thanks so much, P,” you say, voice drowning on his skin.  

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

No strings attached, spontaneous, fun, and only while you're here. That's what you and Pedro agreed upon when you decided to have sex five nights ago. But the way he has you pinned against the shower wall and making your legs tremble with pleasure right now has you thinking of a way to make him not want to do this with anyone else.

The slick, wet sounds of Pedro's fingers pumping in and out of you filled the bathroom as you moaned in bliss. “Can you be a good girl for me and be quiet?” his nose brushes against yours, “We don't want them to hear us, do we?” 

You shake your head, blown away, feeling suffocated, as he drags two fingers over your swollen clit. Your jaw sags as the pleasure floods your body as he applies more pressure to it, causing you to grumble in pleasure. As two fingers slide into you, deliciously stretching you, he covers your mouth with his, absorbing your satisfied moan.

He pulled his mouth away from yours, and the water slipped through his hair, dampening it and sticking it back on his forehead. "Open your mouth," he says, a glint in his eyes as you look at him, bewildered. He presses two fingers against your tongue and the sweet-salty taste fills your mouth as you suck on his fingers. “See how fucking good you taste.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need to feel you inside me."

Pedro lets his hand wander around your hips and slowly drags it down, lifting your leg and securing it around his hip. He took the space between your thighs, aligned himself with your entrance, and pushed in, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

He was moving faster, and you felt like a ragdoll in his arms, so euphoric from your high that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you'd gladly accept it. 

“F-faster, please,”

You've had sex in a variety of positions over the last few days, but there was something about this position and the access it provided that you found incredibly satisfying. His wet, solid chest pressed against yours, his hand tight against your thigh as he buried himself deep within you.

Pedro let out a low groan, one you were all too familiar with by this point, indicating that he was about to finish. His hips trembled and he let out a final grunt, his breaths ragged and heavy as he came inside of you, mouths meeting in a kiss. 

The two of you stood there, still in that proximity for a moment, full of love and softness because above all else, he was your best friend. 

“Can I wash your hair?” 

“Only if you let me wash yours after,” he replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Deal.” 

Since they had a low-key Christmas consisting mainly of hot chocolate, fuzzy sweaters and movies, the family decided to plan a big New Year's Eve celebration to make up for it. Which prompted you to take a quick trip to the city yesterday in search of a dress because you hadn't packed anything fancy. 

Pedro insisted that you didn't have to stress over that, to which you obviously objected.

“Sorry, but I'm not taking fashion advice from someone who has like three t-shirts and a pair of jeans,” you said, scrolling through your phone in search of stores. “You wound me, baby,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain. “But if you insist on shopping, let me take you.”

“No, you still have to help Javi with the party,” you said, getting up from the the couch. “I'll drive there, and I'll take Pedro and Bruno with me.”  

Pedro looked at you slowly, processing your statement, looking uncertain.

“Google Maps is a thing, and we'll be fine. Now give me your keys.”

“I like it when you're bossy,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of a smile. “They're on the counter."

And thanks to the heavens, you decided to make an effort and find something suitable for the occasion because they went all out. 

The bass pounded through the walls as the guests danced and laughed, enjoying the party. The colorful decorations and delicious food made it a night to remember.

“Oh my god, they're gone,” Javiera groans, referring to the tray of now empty lemon bars that were apparently the highlight of the dessert table. “I wanted another one!” 

“I made another batch, I hid them in the oven,” you quickly tell her, feeling a little proud of yourself over the fact that people were enjoying what you made. “I'll go get them.”

“I will come with you.”

Once you both reach the empty kitchen, you go straight to the oven, pulling out the tray of lemon bars and setting it on the kitchen island. 

“Thank you for taking Pedro and Bruno out yesterday, by the way."

"I had so fun much with them. They're great boys and even better fashion advisers,” you tell her, gesturing to your burgundy dress. 

“Glad to know I've taught them well,” she says laughing. 

As you cut the bars into perfect squares, Javiera grabs one and takes a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness. "These are amazing, you should consider selling them," she exclaims, closing her eyes in content. 

You smile. “In another lifetime, I own a bakery in a small town with a living unit attached to the top. I have a beautiful green kitchen, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to people."

Javiera gives you a warm smile as you grab the powdered sugar. “You know,” she says reluctantly. “I see things and I feel things,” you stop what you're doing to look up at her, confused. “My brother's just scared.” 

Confusion is quickly replaced with clarity as you realize where she's going with this. You open your mouth to say something, but she shuts you down. “He's created this wall to protect himself, he's been through a lot, and he has convinced himself that this is enough, that he doesn't need more, but I know better.” 

A sigh leaves your lips, all of those feelings bubble up until you can't get a good breath, until you’re drowning. She continues, “I have seen you two together, friends don't look at each other like that." 

You know that she's right, but things aren't so simple. Not when it comes to this. 

“Maybe in another lifetime," is all you tell her, grabbing the lemon bars and heading out of the kitchen. 

•••

The backyard is a wonderland of string lights and bunting, the air is filled with the sound of laughter and music as people dance under the stars. You were lost in conversation with Pedro's father. He shared more stories of his youth, what got him to pursue medicine, and how he met Pedro's late mother, leaving you feeling nostalgic for a time you never knew. 

He catches you looking away, follows your gaze straight to Pedro, and smiles knowingly. “I hope you have a good flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a little at your own transparency. “Thank you for everything, really.”

“We hope you come back soon, It was a pleasure to have you,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. He walks off, pausing for a moment to talk to Pedro. Smiles were exchanged, and then he continued his way.  

Pedro looks exceptionally good tonight. Hair perfectly styled, white shirt perfectly stretching over his back. You drink up his movements as he approaches you, a smile plastered on his face.

“Who did your hair?” you ask him, knowing damn well this was someone else's doing because he didn't know how to do it. “My sister,” he replied, chuckling. 

“She's doing the Lord's work,” you tell him, folding your arms, feeling exposed by the way he's staring. It's comical that you feel this way, as if he hasn't seen you naked for the past week. 

“I'm gonna have to hire someone to do my hair at all times if you like it this much.”

“I like it either way,” you admitted, "but I just think it looks extra good when it's styled like this." 

His mouth splits into quite possibly your favorite of his various smiles, the one that makes it look like there's a secret tucked up in one corner of his mouth. “Dance with me?”

“Always.” 

You take his hand and pull him to the deck, beneath the twinkling lights and away from the crowd, while the Bee Gees' “How Deep Is Your Love” plays like the universe just wants to mock you. Pedro folds your hand up in his warm palm, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes to focus on how this feels. 

It feels right, it feels perfect, and it feels like it's gonna end. 

He nestles his mouth into your hair and breathes you in as you sway. His sister's words ring in your ear once again: My brother's just afraid. 

You allow yourself to imagine this feeling lasting. A world within a world just for you and Pedro, where people just let you both be. Where you belong to each other. And then you invite reality forward to change the story. 

You're working all day, taking endless flights to different locations, because you're trapped in a cycle of wanting to do more and never feeling like it's enough. Pedro exhausted from long days of shooting, press, taking endless flights, and getting pulled down by gravity. 

Unaswered texts. Missed calls. Grief. Hurt. Distance. Missing each other. Fighting. Falling apart. 

And you realize you're afraid too and this can never be.

“Pedro.”

There's a lengthy silence. His voice is a raspy, growly mutter. “I know. But don't say it.”

You don't look at each other. You just need to hold on to each other because if you look, you'll see that this make-believe game is over. You both feel the warmth of each other's embrace and the unspoken words between you. The silence is comforting yet suffocating.

His arms squeezed around you as everyone started to countdown. Cheers filled the air. Fireworks broke out over the sky in a thousand different colors. He tells you happy new year, and you say it back, never letting go. 

Even though you never said it to each other, you both knew. The love was there, and it didn't change anything. 

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading :) (i know this ending feels like this is it for them HOWEVER i will be making several other parts because i can't stop writing about this lol)

[writersblog20]

Sunflower 🌻

Pedro Pascal x reader

Credits to the gif maker!!!

Summary: When your hot neighbor, Pedro Pascal, forgot to close his curtains while he was pleasing himself, you caught him. You feared the worst but maybe it was for the best that your parents were away for a while

Warnings: SMUT, mention of spying, The reader is still a virgin. Age-gap (reader is in the mid-twenties), P in V, no condom (don’t do it, please), jerking off, slight voyeurism, mention of panic attack, Fingering, overstimulation, a bit of dark Pedro in the beginning, reader is slightly naïve, unexperienced reader, squirting, chocking, calling Pedro daddy, oral Female receiving, blowjob, creampie, daddy issues if you squint, Pedro GUIDES the reader through it, a bit of DD/Lg vibes, Dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, and I think that’s it

Words: 4,8K

Sunflower🌻

Pedro was your hot neighbor, who you had a crush on before the famous actor even  moved across from you. It was a well preserved neighborhood and your parents were good friends with Pedro, much to your annoyance. You see, there were so many countless of nights were you would stay up, reading smut about your favorite neighbor, watch them edits and mostly, losing count on how much you’ve touched yourself thinking it was him. You watched all of his movies and series that he was in and now you were following him in the Last of us and god did your crush grew ten folded when you watched him in that show.  

You were in your mid-twenties and still a virgin. Yeah, you chose to have it that way. Waiting for the right person and the moment you saw Pedro, you knew he was the one you wanted to give it to. Your room had, obviously, a window but sometimes, if you were lucky, you could see Pedro in his own house. You lost count at how many times you’ve spied on your neighbor but you really couldn’t help yourself even though that you knew it wasn’t okay.

Your parents were on vacation and had asked Pedro to keep a close eye on you and that if there was something going on, you could go to him. You were currently bored out of your mind and thinking about what to do. You listened to some music in your room, staring at the ceiling. “What would Pedro do right now?” you wondered to yourself when you turned your head to look at the window. You were thinking about it and curiosity got the better of you when you stood up. You looked out of your window and your eyes got bigger at the sight. Pedro sat in his chair, his head slowly tilted backwards while his hand softly stroke his cock.

Your breath hitched but you couldn’t look away. You were so lost in a trance at how absolutely gorgeous this man looked, how the warm light hit his face, his large hands caressing his huge cock and how his lips slightly parted. His eyes were closed and it almost looked angelic. You felt the familiar heat spread down and you slowly placed your hand in your panties, underneath your flower dress. Pedro’s eyes slowly opened, looking at the screen in front of him. You were curious to what he was watching. What porn category he would search for.

You were so caught up at your own feeling and the image in front of you, that it didn’t click in your head when Pedro’s head turned towards your window. You made eye contact with the brown eyed man and that was when it hit you. He could obviously fucking see you, knowing that you were watching him. You quickly moved away from your window, your heartbeat pounding against your chest as panic took slightly over. My god, he caught you. How the fuck are you ever going to face him again. You felt flustered, bothered and panicked. You didn’t know what to do right now than to just stand there, thinking about what to do. You had no idea how long you stood there when you peeked around the corner so you could look out of your window again. You saw that the laptop was still opened, the light illuminating to the chair that Pedro sat in, minutes ago but he wasn’t there anymore.

Panic took over your entire body. You stared in front of you until you heard your doorbell. You freezed on the spot. It felt like you had an entire black out, adrenaline shooting through your body and you moved towards your livingroom without thinking. Your body was acting on itself and you opened the door, seeing Pedro standing in front of you. His cheeks a little pink while he ran his hand through his hair. You both didn’t say anything, feeling extremely awkward. “I wanted to check up on you and see how you were doing.” He spoke up, ignoring the fact that you caught him and he caught you.

You nodded and forced out a smile as you stood to the side, letting him in. He walked past you with a soft smile and sat on one of the chairs. “Eh, do you maybe want something to drink?” you asked him, trying to act like nothing happened. Pedro smiled softly, unable to make eye contact with you. “Could I have a glass of water?” you nodded and your body acted on itself, moving you to the kitchen, Pedro watching you closely.

Your hands were shaking while you gave him a glass of water. You got one beer for yourself, hoping that it would calm your nerves. Pedro watched your shaky hands when you took a sip from the bottle. It was unbearably silent at the moment and it had almost send you in a panic attack until Pedro broke the silence with a question. “So how are you doing?” he asked you and looked into your eyes. “Good, yeah I’m doing okay. I like the peace.” You told him, shifting uncomfortably in your seat since you were still very horny.

Pedro knew about your not so secret crush on him and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t like you that way either. You were so good and so pure, it absolutely drove him insane. He too, lost count of how many times he fantasized about you when he would touch himself, imagining it was you.

The air around you thickened and Pedro nodded when you answered that question and it became silent again. Both of you knew that it had to be addressed if you wanted to get the tension out of the air. “I’m sorry.” Pedro said uncomfortably while he scratched his neck. You looked up and felt panic float through your body besides, you felt nervous as hell around him let alone right now. “I’m sorry that you saw me. I should’ve closed the curtains… I hope we’re still okay?” he asked you softly and at the last part, he looked at you. The heat started to spread across your cheeks while you fumbled with the sticker of the beer bottle.

You nodded, unable to speak at all. His hand covered yours that was playing with the sticker so he could get your entire attention. You looked at his hand, covering yours before looking at Pedro, who was staring at you. Your heart started to beat faster and faster. You carefully turned your hand and started playing with his fingers, images of earlier that night flashed through your mind as it was the same hand that he touched himself with. Pedro looked down at your hand and then back to your eyes. He was surprised to say the least when you tried to make a move.

Pedro knew it was wrong but it felt so incredibly right that he couldn’t bare to stop you even though you were just playing with his fingers. The physical contact you made started to tightened his pants again. He didn’t want to admit it but when he caught you watching, was the only thing to send him over the edge and came hard. And all you had to do for that was just look at him.

Pedro let out a sigh when he thought about that exact moment. “What were you watching?” you couldn’t help but feel bold when curiosity stroked. You had an idea where this boldness came from and that was because you wanted that man and you wanted him now. “What?” you took Pedro complete by surprise. He wasn’t used to you being this bold. He knew you as the shy, innocent girl. Not that he complained but it started to get harder to fight his feelings for you.

“What were you watching when I caught you?” you asked him again. You looked at your hand that played with Pedro’s. Your hand looked so small compared to his. Pedro slowly took his hand away from you. “I eh…. I ehm..”  Pedro swallowed thickly, almost unable to breath. You felt a pang in your heart when he took his hand away from you. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise! I’m just…. Curious.” You told him, feeling shy again. Pedro looked into your eyes and he had a strict look as if you crossed the line. “Just curious?” his voice was stern.

You started to panic, feeling you ruined everything with him and let your head down. You were staring at your Dr. Martens boots. “You really want to know?” his voice turned slightly darker as he placed a finger underneath your chin, making you look up. “Do you?” you stayed silent but nodded, your eyes big at the upcoming revelation. Pedro nodded. “I mostly watch neighbor things, daughter of my best friend and stuff...” You eyes bigger at his confession while he took in every feature on your face. Pedro placed his hand carefully on your bare leg, making you jump at the sudden contact. Pedro lifted his hand quickly when you jumped before slowly putting it back on your leg, drawing circles with his thumb.

“Your turn, princess.” He told you, making you look up in confusion. “come on now. If we’re going to be honest, than be honest. I know you watch porn. What do you search sweetheart?” His hand carefully went up your leg underneath your dress. You felt yourself pulsing from  the heat. “Ehm… I watch… a lot of daddy stuff….” You confessed, not wanting to tell him more. “Do you now?” you nodded “And maybe some neighbor stuff as well.” you felt your cheeks heat completely up as you nodded, looking how his hand disappeared underneath your short dress.

“I know you have a crush on me.” he told you while looking intently into your eyes. It felt like you couldn’t breath anymore as the air kept getting tighter around the two of you. His fingers squeezed your leg, making you let out a moan. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand. “You like this?” he asked you, his hands getting towards your heat. You quickly nodded “I need to hear your voice Chiquita.” You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry from nerves. “I do daddy.” Pedro smirked, his finger going over your clit. There was already a wet patch on your panties, getting a groan out from Pedro.

“You are dripping through your panties sweetheart.” You moaned when his fingers picked up the pace. You covered his hand that was underneath your dress so his hand would stay there. “Yeah? You like that?” he asked you, making you nod again while you tried to gasp for air. “Why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap sweetheart?” he told you, his hand leaving your panty and placed both of his hands on your waist, making you stand up. The moment you did, he took your body completely in without shame. He pulled you closer and made you sit on his lap sideways. He looked down your body, his hand rubbing your leg and pulled your dress a bit up.

Pedro kissed your shoulder, his beard scraping your skin. You couldn’t wait longer and started to move your hips. “Oh baby, you are a needy little girl aren’t you?” You hummed, your hand over his again and guided him to your heat. Pedro smirked “You like it when I do this?” he asked you, his fingers over your clit again, your whole body reacting to it as if it got a shock. Pedro chuckled at how much your body gave you away. Your whole body tensed, making you grip his wrist harder. His fingers going faster while his other hand grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “Look at me.” he commanded. You couldn’t help but move your hips on his lap, feeling his cock grow harder underneath you.

Pedro looked deep into your eyes and you immediately felt more intimidated. You stared at his lips, desperate to kiss him. you moved forward to kiss him but Pedro pulled back. “No. You wait like a good girl. Only good girls get what they want. Do you understand?” you nodded but Pedro shook his head. “Use your voice, young lady.” You swallowed again, his hand went from your holding your chin towards your neck. You felt a pit in your stomach. “I understand! I understand!” you quickly said, almost beggingly as you grew closer to your orgasm.

“From now on, you address me as daddy or papi. Are we clear on that sweetheart?” Pedro’s voice was cold and unbothered while you squirmed on his lap, begging to come. “Yes! I understand daddy! Please, please can I cum daddy?” You cried out. This was the first time that Pedro didn’t sound stern anymore. He wanted you so bad that started to lose control. His breath shaky while his fingers put pressure on your clit over your panties and picked up the pace. “Go ahead sweet girl. Cum for me” he told you and as on que your whole body started to shake. Pedro let go of your neck and held your body tightly against yours while your limbs were shaking. “That’s it, just like that baby girl.” He cooed in a soft, loving voice, making your orgasm even more explosive.

Your eyes met Pedro’s and his eyes held so much softness and adoration in them that it made you weak to your knees. Pedro came closer and closed the gap between the two of you in a hungry, passionate kiss. You felt his tongue slide in while his hand caressed your cheek. You got out of the kiss, making Pedro look confused at you. You stood up and got completely in his lap so you were chest to chest. His hands found your waist. Pedro looked at your body, his hand caressing your leg, slowly moving up to your upper leg, just rubbing them. He loved how soft and delicate your skin was underneath his hands. His hands underneath your dress, holding you by your waist and pulled you in the kiss again.

Hungrily you discovered each other’s mouth. Pedro started to move your hips and you quickly took over, grinding on his lap. Pedro groaned in the kiss, sending goosebumps over your body. His fingers dug into your skin and his lips moved towards your cheek to your neck. Even more electricity came over you when his lips touched your neck, turning you on to the point of crazy. You grinded more aggressively on his lap and dick for at least some friction. Pedro’s hands went to your ass, squeezing them tightly, making you moan out. Your hands went through his hair while you pulled him closer to you. Your hips moving even more violent than before. “Are you going to come again?” he asked you. “Yes daddy” you cried out and Pedro chuckled because of how desperate you sounded. And not to find it funny how desperate you were for him but because it felt like his heart was going to give out from all the love he held for you.

“That’s it, you can cum whenever you’re ready baby girl.” He quickly placed his fingers over your panties again and rubbed your clit. You cried as your whole body started to shake. “There you go baby, let it go sweetheart. Let it go.” He guided you while your rested your head against his shoulder. His dick was fully hard by now and he could just cum without touching himself at the way you came on his lap.

“Show me your room, mi amor.” You stood up but your legs almost gave out. Pedro held you tightly. You looked at his lap and your orgasm dripped though your panties on his pants, leaving a wet patch and it was the hottest thing ever. You walked towards your room. You laid down on the bed and Pedro hang above you, kissing you even more. You couldn’t get enough of his lips while you held his cheeks with your palm. Pedro grinded against you, both moaning. You got out of the kiss, Pedro awaited what you were going to do. You rested your head to the side and was in thought. Pedro was confused, his eyebrows knotted a bit together as worry washed over him.

“Hey, hey? Are you okay sweetheart?” you nodded but was apprehensive to what you were going to confess. “Pedro…. I.. I’m still a virgin.” Pedro looked shocked at you and created a bit of distance between the two of you. That was the last thing you wanted so you grabbed him by his cardigan. “No. No, I want you to have it.” Pedro’s eyes softened. “Sweetheart… You shouldn’t give it to me.” You violently shook your head, completely disagreeing with him now. “No, I’ve always wanted you to have it. I don’t want to give it to anyone else. I really don’t.” Pedro looked at you contemplating. “Are you sure?” he asked you and softly cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb softly over your skin.

You nodded and Pedro slowly started nodding as well, giving in to your wishes. “Besides, you told me good girls get what they want. I’m a good girl daddy. I promise.” Pedro chuckled a little, giving completely in. “You’re right. You are a good girl.” Pedro kissed you softly. “So… you’ve never done anything with anyone?” he asked you and you shook your head. “You’ve never…. Sucked somebody off?” you shook your head again. “So no one has ever shown you how it is to be eaten out?” he asked you, sympathy glazed his voice while his fingers touched your pussy again. You gasped slightly and shook your head.

“Would you like to know how it feels?” he asked you with a loving smile on his face. You nodded and Pedro closed the gap again, kissing you. This time it was soft and passionately. He went over your neck with his lips towards your collarbone. His hands over your leg again before he sat up and got into position, his hands over your dress, moving it up. His hands going over your thigh, giving another shockwave over your body. Pedro smiled at the way your body reacted to his touch. His hands reached your panties and pulled them slightly down. You pushed your hips up so he could take your panties off.

Pedro slowly spread your legs and gave you another glance, wanting your permission again. Your breathing was heavy as you quickly nodded. Pedro started to kiss the insides of your thigh, slowly making his way up while remaining eye contact with you. His beard scratched your skin in the best possible way. Pedro took a long lick over your folds and you let your head fall back on the pillow. His eyes never leaving yours, taking in every feature. His arms wrapped around your legs, keeping them spread while he started to eat you out. You gasped at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Your hand automatically grabbed his hair, tucking it a bit, earning a growl from Pedro, who started working on your clit now.

You were absolutely dripping right now. The sounds your pussy and Pedro made should be illegal but you were glad it wasn’t. Pedro teased your entrance with his finger while sucking on your clit. Pedro made eye contact with you again and slid his finger inside your pussy. You gasped and clenched on his finger, earning a couple of other growls. God you felt so good on his finger that he was afraid that he wasn’t going to last long when he would be inside of you. Pedro carefully started pumping his finger inside of you and the familiar feeling came back but as soon as Pedro curled his finger inside of you, another pleasurable feeling washed over you that you didn’t recognized.

You grabbed Pedro’s wrist again and tried to hold back whatever that feeling was. “Feels good doesn’t it princesa? Don’t hold it back sweetheart. I’m right here with you. Nothing bad ‘s going to happen. Let it go.” He comforted you through it. Pedro started to messily eat you out, sending another shockwave. “Daddy..” you moaned out, your eyebrows knitted together and eyes tightly shut in a pained expression even though it was everything but pain. Even if you wanted to hold back that feeling, you just couldn’t hold it back anymore and started to squirt while Pedro continued to eat you out. Your whole body tense as Pedro still held tightly to your legs to keep them spread. You gasped for air and saw that Pedro cleaned his face from all the juices. He grinned at you and took his cardigan and shirt off, hanging above you again. His hands softly going over your cheek. “That felt good didn’t it?” you nodded, still questioning what just happened. And as if Pedro could read your mind, he answered the question that lingered in your mind “You just squirted baby girl.” He smiled and kissed you lovingly.

“Can I ehh…” You rubbed his cock over his pants. Pedro looked down and back to you. “You can do whatever you want to baby.” this man got you all flustered with his words. Pedro sat up and so did you. You carefully undid his pants, looking at Pedro who was awaiting your next move. You reached into his pants and took his cock out. It was so big compared to your hand already and you swallowed thickly. Pedro let out a moan when you stroked his cock slightly. You placed your hands on his chest and laid him down on his back. You started to lick his shaft and Pedro let out a shaky breath. You’ve never done this before but you’ve seen some things so you tried that just out.

You tried to take him all in but that was a failed mission before you even started. You gagged on his cock while your hand jerked off what you couldn’t put in your mouth. You slobbered over his dick and Pedro shamelessly moaned out, turning you on even more. “God baby.” he moaned out. “This really the first time you’d done this?” he was surprised at your amazing skills as your hand even caressed his balls. You got his dick out of your mouth with a perfect plop and nodded before continuing. “My god you’re really good at this. Fuck baby.” Pedro held your hair back and couldn’t help but thrust into your mouth, making you gag but took in everything he gave you.

“I can’t wait anymore. If you keep doing this, I’m going to cum in no time.” He told you when he took you off his cock. He sat up and took your dress off from your body. his hands discovering your skin before he took your bra off as well. “God, you’re gorgeous” he admired your body before his lips found your neck again, kissing and sucking on it. You moaned out again and his finger played with your clit again. He went from your neck to your breast, squeezing them and sucking on your nipple. Excitement grew in your stomach again, spreading another heatwave towards your pussy while he sucked on your nipple. He knew how much you liked it when he did this by the way you moaned above him.

Pedro laid you down on your back again and spread your legs before laying between them. “You’re really sure of this?” he asked you again, making you nod and pulled him down for a kiss again. You pushed your hips up, grinding your wet pussy over his dick. Pedro felt himself grow weak already at the way you felt over his cock. Pedro groaned and took his cock in his hand and guided it to your entrance, looking at you again to see if you were in any pain. He carefully pushed the tip in and you moaned out loudly when Pedro groaned as well. You felt pain shooting through you.

Pedro waited until you were able to take more. A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, which Pedro obviously noticed. “Hey sshhh it’s okay. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop okay?” You nodded “Do you want me to stop?” this time you shook your head and Pedro softly left kisses over your face. He let out a shaky breath, he had to gather all of his energy to not to pound you out completely right now.

“It’s okay…” you told him and Pedro pushed more in, he wasn’t even halfway in and you stopped him again. He waited until you were ready again and sucked your nipple, making you clench on his cock. He pulled his hips back before he slowly entered you again. Not pushing anymore in but for friction. Your hands were on his back, your nails digging into his skin. “More please” you murmured out but loud enough for Pedro to hear you. He pushed his cock in and collapsed on you for a moment. “You feel so good on my cock. Like you were made just for me princesa.” You moaned out, wanting more friction so you moved your hips eagerly and Pedro looked down how you grinded your pussy on his dick.

“Please fuck me daddy.” He could just cum right then and there but he needed to last longer for you while you kept grinding. Pedro got out of you, making you feel confused. Pedro laid down on his back and hinted for you to come over to him. “Why don’t you ride daddy, baby. I know how you use those hips.” He told you and helped you up on his cock. You slowly slid down on his cock but you couldn’t take all of him in yet. You slowly moved up and down, Pedro’s hands on your hips, guiding you. “There you go baby. You’re doing so good for daddy.” Pedro murmured out while he let his head fall down.

You wanted to take him all in just for him. Be the good girl that he want. When you slid his dick completely in, he looked at you in surprise but the feeling caught up too fast with him and he moaned out. Your pussy was gripping his cock for dear life “oh you’re such a good girl.” He cried out and you slowly grinded on his cock. His fingers dug into your skin and you were sure it was going to leave a mark later.

After a couple of minutes of you grinding on his cock, he couldn’t take it anymore. “My god, I’ve got to fuck you baby. I’m so close.” He told you and laid you down on your back. He pushed your legs a bit up and entered you again, both moaning out at the feeling. He started to fuck you and you grabbed his hand, putting it around your throat so he could choke you. He carefully squeezed your throat while he started fucking you harder, his thumb rubbing on your clit. You were shaking again, you were so overstimulated that you really didn’t know if you had another orgasm in you.

His cock hit your g-spot perfectly and your pussy was making a lot of wet noises again. “Oh I make you feel good too don’t I, baby girl?” you nodded while he fastened his pace on your clit. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for daddy. Let go, remember?” he asked you again but  you were unable to respond as the euphory took over. You clenched his cock so hard that he fell through his knees. “I’m going to cum too.” He announced, wanting to get out of you but you pulled him back quickly. “No, please cum in me. It’s okay. Please I need it daddy, I need your cum.” Pedro couldn’t hold back anymore and you felt something warm fill you up while Pedro let out some grumbles and groans. You could feel him twitch inside of you.

Pedro tried to regain his breathing back and carefully got out of you, making you both moan out. He laid down on his side, facing you. “Are you okay sweetheart?” he asked you, cupping your cheek. You smiled and kissed him. “Yeah very much so.” Pedro smiled lovingly as well. He looked at you, completely mesmerized. He carefully went with his hand over your hair. You turned over as well and placed your arm around him, wanting him closer. “Can you stay with me tonight?” you asked him hopeful. Pedro smiled and kissed your nose. “Of course I will.” You smiled and shyly hid your face against his chest.

[crumbledcastle28]

Joel Miller: Birthday Boy

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Excerpt: He was so golden, so smooth yet smothered in moles that you’d kissed and purple marks from your teeth. So perfect. So yours. Your lips parted, craving the taste of his skin once again. You recalled his statement from the night before.

“Wake me up with your mouth, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “Drown me with it.”

How could you say no to the birthday boy?

You set both coffee mugs on the side table, rubbing your hands together to keep the leftover heat from the steam alive, and slid your way back to the position you were in before. His breaths remained steady and a big part of you just wanted to let him sleep. He never got enough, with money and providing for Sarah always on his mind, and maybe that would be the best thing for him.

Drown me with it.

Maybe not.

Warnings: SMUTTT, oral sex female receiving, joel has a giving kink @ me, mentions of Sarah (RIP), allusions to the end of the world.

A/N: So much Joel Miller content, I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. I hope you enjoy.

2.3k

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

(GIF credit to owner, please let me know if it’s yours)

You awoke to the taste of him still on your tongue—it was practically still drooling down your chin—and the warmth of his naked body draped across your frame. Your eyes were puffed and cloudy and your hips felt yellowed and sore, giving you flashbacks of the night previous.

Open your pretty mouth, darlin’.

Fuckin’ shit, this wet already?

Easy now, we got all night.

Ride me till I’m numb, baby.

You closed your eyes in bliss and whispered to yourself in a sing-song tone, “happy birthday.”

His small snores and hot breaths against your earlobe showed he didn’t hear you. He wasn’t meant to. He was meant to stay asleep—deep asleep—until you decided otherwise.

You were tempted to stay there, in his arms, forever. With his woody-cinnamon scent wrapped around you, his permanent scowl softened into an almost-smile, and his body slack against your own. This was Joel Miller—not the one lessened to a struggling carpenter, a single parent, or a lonely man—this was the whole Joel Miller. The true Joel Miller.

This was your Joel Miller.

You smiled at him, letting your eyes serpentine and circle around him for as long as you could, before pressing the softest kiss to his cheekbone. You barely pressed your lips to the hairs that coated it. You hummed to yourself, unable to prevent that sweet sound of pleasure whenever your lips touched his skin, and slowly started scooting your way out from underneath him. Your body screamed at you to stop, stay awhile, never leave, but you persevered.

He was so out he barely twitched.

You laughed to yourself as you found your footing on the cold, grey-carpeted floor. Your fingers twitched to comb through his hair, map out his body, or reach downwards to the sweet spot of your own at what a vision he was, but you somehow managed to continue on.

A midnight-black Henley of his had been discarded at some point in the night, likely thrown across the room by your own hands, and you threw it over your bare body as well as fresh underwear before making your way down to the kitchen. Joel always joked how your stealth was a wasted talent of yours.

I know who I’d ally with in an apocalypse, Tommy would joke.

Idiots.

You made your way to Joel’s most prized possession—his coffee-maker—and threw in his favorite brand of beans. Despite drinking plain black, he did have a taste for higher quality arabica. He would have never bought it for himself.

“Present number one,” you whispered to yourself as the smooth steaming liquid made its way into his rough coffee cup. It was old, chipped, and on the verge of shattering, yet still his favorite. You wondered what that said about him.

You set his aside and made a small cup of your own—adding plenty of cream and sugar thank you very much—and made your way back up the stairs, taking little sips as you walked. Sarah’s room was still locked shut and it was still plenty dark outside.

Good.

Your toes pressed onto the carpet again as you walked back to your side of the bed, and Joel had not moved an inch. His lower half remained swaddled in blankets, while his upper half…

…fuck.

He was so golden, so smooth yet smothered in moles that you’d kissed and purple marks from your teeth. So perfect. So yours. Your lips parted, craving the taste of his skin once again. You recalled his statement from the night before.

“Wake me up with your mouth, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “Drown me with it.”

How could you say no to the birthday boy?

You set both coffee mugs on the side table, rubbing your hands together to keep the leftover heat from the steam alive, and slid your way back to the position you were in before. His breaths remained steady and a big part of you just wanted to let him sleep. He never got enough, with money and providing for Sarah always on his mind, and maybe that would be the best thing for him.

Drown me with it.

Maybe not.

You leaned forward and breathed in the skin on his neck before placing a faint kiss on his pulse. You then moved to his adam’s apple, kissing up to his chin. He stirred a bit, unconsciously pulling you closer to him, and you kissed around his mouth. You pressed one more kiss to his hairline, his hair soft and ruffled from your own fingers, before he whispered incoherently.

“Hm?” you asked, bringing your mouth inches away from his.

“I said—” but he was interrupted by your lips on his.

You parted them quickly and deeper the kiss, tugging him close to you with your hand on the back of his head, and his large hands molded against your hips. You teased him with your tongue just enough for him to tilt your head back for more, but you pulled away.

“Happy birthday.”

He grinned and worked his right hand up to your face, framing it. “Thank you.”

You smiled brightly before sitting up completely and grabbing both coffees. He sat up with you, making himself comfortable leaning his back on the bed frame, and took the mug you handed him eagerly. He immediately sipped it and hummed, closing his eyes.

“You didn’t,” he whispered, his accent in full force.

“I did,” you whispered back, and sipped your own.

“These beans are over ten bucks.”

“I know,” you responded, and took another long sip. “This is present number one.”

“Number one?” he questioned with a laugh. “How many are there?”

You only smiled back at him, enjoying his questioning look.

The two of you proceeded to sip your coffee in silence—enjoying the slowly rising sun, the birds chirping, the wind blowing, and the creaks and groans of the house. Joel took his time, drinking his coffee slowly instead of chugging it as he ran from the house, and he enjoyed every sip.

Finally, he broke the ice. “Darlin’, since when did you have clothes on?”

You laughed enough to make your eyes crease before saying, “Since I went to make you coffee this morning with the risk of Sarah coming downstairs to use the bathroom.”

He chuckled and took one last sip, finishing his cup completely, and you took the cup from him to place it on the nightstand. He mumbled a quick “thank you” before you did, a grateful look in his eye, but once you turned back around, the chocolate in his caramel eyes had completely taken over. The rising sun illuminated their darkness that much more.

“I don’t think you’re understandin’ me,” he whispered, and the look in his eye suddenly made sense. Arousal rolled over you like a wave, and a smirk made its way to your face.

“Am I not?” you questioned, lowing your voice exactly how he liked it. The ink in his eyes was beginning to drip down to his body language—tense, itching to touch and unravel you.

“You’re not,” he said, and leaned closer, close enough for you to feel his hot breath on the skin of your collarbone. “I want them off.”

He kissed your collarbone and neck, reaching his hand underneath his own fabric to meet his calloused hand with your soft skin, and you smiled. “It’s your birthday. Take what you want.”

You didn’t have time to think before his mouth met your own.

He quickly took the mug still in your hands and leaned over you—mouth still claiming yours—to set it on the nightstand. He then took the opportunity pin you fully to the bed. His tongue fully mapped your mouth now and you whined at his taste—black coffee, morning, and the residue of you. He likely tasted the same thing on you.

“Gotta stay quiet,” he whispered, slipping your shirt completely off. “I do have a model of responsibility to set.”

You laughed into his mouth. “How’s that going?”

He laughed with you and kissed you again, feeling you everywhere. You took the chance to feel him up too, dragging your nails up his chest and over his back, through his hair, and across his scruffed face. His facial hair always tickled at the very least and burned at the very most. This morning, your face felt a bit of both.

He was kissing you so good and your head was so lost in all of it that you almost missed when he mumbled, “Let me try somethin’.”

He pulled away completely to look at you. Your eyes were blissed out, your lips were tingling, and your brain was absolutely reeling. He smiled down at you, likely because of how out of it you looked. “What?”

“Let me try somethin’,” he mumbled again, kissing down your face and to your chest. You closed your eyes and breathed erotically at the feeling of him all over you. Everywhere. “I’ve gotta eat somethin’ after my coffee, don’t I?”

Your eyes widened to saucers. You sat up, putting your weight on your elbows, and met his eyes. He was now hovering over your lower stomach. “Joel, you don’t have—”

“It’s my birthday,” he whispered with a kiss to your midsection. “I want this. I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You and Joel had been together for a while, longer than a while, and the sincerity in your feelings for one another had only grown with each passing day. You had started spending nights at his house, he had started spending nights at yours, and you had met his daughter a few months ago. You had even started spending weekends with Joel and Sarah as a way to get to know her better and test the dynamic which, so far, had been smooth sailing. She had obviously enjoyed your company, even asking you to stay at their house throughout the week. You and Joel were becoming serious, very serious.

And yet, he hadn’t done this for you before. He had offered it before, but you had always wanted to suck him off instead. It seemed that today, he knew what he wanted.

Your pants started getting more infrequent with even the thought of him doing this to you. You wanted it badly. His cocky grin showed you that he knew that too.

“Don’t you want me to take care of you today?”

His grin only expanded. “Do you seriously think I won’t come from this?”

And with that, he pulled your underwear down your body, and began his feast with a hunger. With one lick from his tongue, your goal of keeping eye contact with him shattered, and a long groan escaped from your mouth.

“Quiet baby,” he whispered against your mound. “Quiet,” and he continued.

He mapped you like an expert—memorizing exactly where you whined, honing in on those areas just long enough to make you shake, and just before you found your release, he would move on.

“Fuck you,” you whispered after the second time he did this, sweat dripping down your face and breasts. He chuckled into you and pulled one of your hands off his head to wrap it in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Patience baby. It’s my birthday.”

He continued squeezing your hand as he worked, and you continued biting your tongue until you nearly drew blood.

This was heaven. Heaven on earth. Eternity between your legs. The world could end tomorrow and you wouldn’t care, not after this. Not after him.

It was when he nudged your clit with his nose just so that you felt that familiar ball of flame inside of you begin to oxidize, expanding from a lick of flame to a fire.

“I’m so close Joel please.”

“Jesus woman,” he replied, the noises coming from his mouth on you borderline obscene. “Sound so pretty.”

He kept at it, nudging your clit with his nose and licking you where you needed. It was then that you noticed a small rock to your bed and a consistent creak. You used the last of your strength to pull yourself up, only to be met with Joel’s now hazel eyes, and the lower half of his body fucking hard into the bed.

“Told you I’d come from this,” he whispered, and kissed your clit.

Your fire became unstoppable, and you let yourself fully release into his mouth.

He didn’t stop. Not after you gave him one more.

Finally, he parted from you with one final kiss, and you didn’t even realize your eyes had fallen shut until he kissed both of them. They fluttered open to be met with his smiling face.

He looked so damn happy.

You brought his mouth to yours, tasting yourself mixed with his morning coffee, but he pulled away quickly.

“How was I?”

Your face broke out into a smile so big your teeth showed. “Perfect.”

He pecked your nose. “Good.”

He laid down on his back next to you, panting and exhausted, and you immediately cuddled into him. You threw your leg over his own only to be met with something…sticky?

He came. Purely from sucking you off.

“What’s this, the third time I’ve told ya?” he whispered into your hair. “I did this for you, but I wanted it just as badly.”

You couldn’t help the shock in your voice when he hugged you close. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

“I love you Y/N,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”

“I love you Joel,” you whispered back weakly, feeling the exhaustion envelop you once again. “Happy Birthday.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, likely grateful that you had woken him up early enough for him to go back to sleep. You followed him in your failure to sleep, but just before you reached unconsciousness, you felt yourself whisper.

“Don’t think I’m not paying you back for this.”

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag is not present/not working. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!)

@leahkenobi @aninnai​ @untitledarea​ @avengersfan25​

[diremoone]

all the good things | geto suguru.

someway, somehow, amidst all of the thoughts of chaos and spiraling ideals of a new “better” world, a light shines through to guide him to a path of true balance. that just so happens to be the second-year transfer from Kyoto, who’s more than happy to put him back on the right path..

warning(s): like 98% canon lmao, female reader, mentions of pregnant! reader towards the end, honestly just wrote and didn’t bother checking if this was coherent but here’s y’all a snack haha, also using new line dividers atm and they’re all all pretty, credits to the maker in the guidelines of my blog

note(s): as much as I wanted to wait I just can’t stand it so here’s this piece published earlier than I want lol. also I didn’t know who to tag for geto so I just went with these lovelies ☺️

You like the Tokyo school much better than the one in Kyoto.

By leaps and bounds actually, you muse.

Everything from the people down to the energy they give off was so much more different — more freeing.

Kyoto was just too much, too old school and too traditional, especially for you. The students there seemed to be more rigid, and the teachers seemed to sneer at you. More often than not for just being a female. That old way of thinking was most likely why they lost the Exchange Event almost every year.

Especially with sorcerers like Geto Suguru on their side.

You transferred to Tokyo during the last half of your first year, which wasn’t something commonplace. That time wasn’t exactly a pleasant time to transfer into. Geto and Gojo, your upperclassmen, had failed a mission protecting the Plasma Star Vessel, Riko Amanai. Yes, Gojo managed to take out the Sorcerer Killer, Fushiguro Toji (who was actually a Zen’in like Naoya) on the mission, but that was only after he had completed his mission — after they had failed to protect Riko.

Now you’re a second-year at Tokyo High, watching the third-year Geto Suguru fall into a spiral of chaos and warped ideals while his friends go their own personal paths and leave him to his own devices, completely unaware in their own worlds that they’ve left a storm brewing behind them, alone and lonely and more than ready to bring down its wrath upon anyone in its way.

You secretly wondered how much Gojo cared for the person who was supposed to be his best friend.

So why you decided to approach said storm to get a (very much well-needed) drink out at the machines while he was preoccupied with his own thoughts, you have no idea. Were you stupid? Yes. Did that matter right now? … Probably.

Your feet carried you to the vending machine, standing beside Geto. You weren’t bothering to look at him out of your peripheral vision, knowing that if you did, the universe would shit on you and he would look up and make eye contact.

Sounds like one of those romance animes or something, you think, nose crunching in distaste. Ew…

“It’s such a shame that you decided to withdraw from Kyoto, [Name]-chan.”

An even bigger problematic ‘ew’ came from behind you. You scowled and turned halfway on your heel, back facing your black-haired upperclassmen to stare at the smirking face of one of the two reasons you’d originally left Kyoto’s school.

You scoff, shaking your head to see Geto’s form standing tall, but still facing the vending machine to get something. That’s all right; you could handle your own battles anyway.

“You really have the audacity to come and talk to me like this? After what you put me through for the last two years? Ah, wait a second. It’s you. So I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Naoya shrugged. “All I asked for was—”

“For you to leave her alone, Zen’in.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the sound of Geto’s voice cutting through the air, but it’s only Naoya that scowls and turns his head to face his Tokyo upperclassmen.

And to your absolute surprise, despite Naoya’s scowl deepening to a point where you thought he couldn’t get any uglier, the male pivoted on the ball of his foot and sauntered off.

“Are you alright?” came the instant inquiry.

Geto moving to get a closer look at you made you sweat even more. Just for a different reason.

“I’m fine, Senpai.”

The tall male looks between you and Naoya’s fading figure, eyes narrowing slightly in distaste up until he sees the Zen’in male finally disappear from sight. Even he knows that the Zen’in’s are trash; Naoya just really takes the cake.

“That’s good,” he says.

And when he looks at you with gentle eyes, you’re surprised (and desperately trying to hide it). How instantly his expression and mood changed from mere moments before Naoya showed up to at this moment caught you off guard.

“Did you need something from here? I can get it for you.”

His offer is so sincere, so polite. Such a stark contrast from earlier. Especially with the way the bright smile on his face that reaches his ears and makes the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle.

Instead of the same uncertainty from before your approach filling your stomach, this time feels different. This time, it’s an excited, happy feeling; as if butterflies are rapidly fluttering away in your belly in eager anticipation of something wonderful to come.

“Um, yes,” you squeak, looking to the machines, “I was going to get—”

>>>>

How long does it take for one to fall from grace?

From one who’s fingers touched the pure white clouds of heaven to becoming one who’s knees were stuck deep within the obsidian tar pits of hell, it seemed Geto Suguru was destined to struggle with himself — with his morals and ideals of the world of jujutsu sorcerers and the world of people that lived outside of it — for eternity.

Someone that was so bright, so revered, to fall into a pit of hopelessness?

It must be a lie, others would think.

Watching him sink into the pits of chaos and despair while his best friend rose to a place where he became untouchable to all sorcerers… made something terrible, something spiteful, stir within the depths of your stomach. How much did the white-haired teenager care about the one he called his equal?

But as Gojo became more and more powerful and left his friend behind, Geto too, grew in power in his own right.

And a lot of it was with you.

Weeks of meeting at the vending machines for snacks during training turned into months of sitting on benches and eating lunch together. Even that progressed farther, to him taking you to everything from restaurants to the book store (as much as he’d laugh at you buying manga, he was just as much of a hypocrite with Inuyasha under his arm) to even pretty lakes across Japan, soaring atop one of his flying curses.

Doing things that friends do. That people more than friends also do.

But at the same time, during those times after missions or simply while spending time together in either his or your room, you’d see that malicious darkness fester up. You’d see the way his brows would furrow when you mentioned saving someone or his lips pull down when there’d be a mention of the higher-ups about a mission you’d taken recently that went sour.

In times like these, you wondered if Gojo Satoru really did once know Geto Suguru the same way you knew him now.

“I can see the sweat on your forehead,” the black-haired male jokes. “You shouldn’t think so hard.”

Suguru doesn’t chuckle, but the joking smile of amusement is still there. It’s just a faint one. He’s become less and less of a jokester lately, swimming deeper into the darkness. But for you, you think he tries a little harder to keep the mood and air between you two as light and positive as possible.

(For you.)

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” you quip back, “for the next time I see sweat on your brow for thinking so much. Hypocrite.”

For the first time all day, he finally chuckles.

“Hypocrite?” He muses, placing his cheek on his fist. “Really?”

“Yes!” You toss your hands up in mock frustration. “You heard me, Mr. I-Wanna-Brood-At-Weird-Times-of-the-Day.”

“That’s an awfully long name.”

“It sure does fit though, yeah?”

“So you say.”

The air had been tense and thick since morning, but the two of you were striving to get past it. Well, you slightly more, but the more you tried, the more Geto — ah, Suguru. He already told you to call him that, didn’t he? — seemed to try and help you push for a happier tone.

But the mission Suguru was to be sent on soon had him shut down mentally, closed off from you for the last few days. And today was the day you’d tried to pick him back up out of his crappy mood.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” you ask.

Suguru sighs, then nods his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll be back by the day after, if not sooner.”

You shrug, semi-happy with his response and accepting it. But the other half of you knows something — sees something — behind his pretty eyes that you wished you would have left alone.

But your heart loved to meddle when it wanted to meddle.

And in the future, you hoped Suguru would thank you for that meddling nature.

****

113 bodies were to be found five days after Geto arrived at the village he was assigned to.

But he hadn’t been alone the day he arrived.

Suguru just didn’t know that.

You’d stuck to him like glue. Well, as far back as glue could stretch in that regard. You’d silenced your cursed energy so much that you almost swore you didn’t even have any. And not once did the male turn around to bother to look around or check his surroundings, like he knew he was ever being followed.

Now, all you could do was watch as Suguru stepped into the house that the villagers brought him to. Supposedly, the house contained the reason why the villagers had been dying.

But that gnawing anxiousness in the pit of your stomach told you otherwise. It told you that something was about to go very, very wrong.

Very few people had been able to manage to near-fully suppress their cursed energy aura. It was a talent that could only be managed by a select few, one of which was probably Gojo Satoru himself. But when one successfully did it, all the stories told of how nauseous they felt; how overwhelming the sense of others cursed energy could be.

And it was all true.

Bile and your lunch nearly coated your shoes. Knees too had you let Suguru’s immense, Special Grade cursed energy make you sink to the ground.

It isn’t the same. It isn’t the same. It isn’t the same!

Eyes blown wide as saucers, you realized that something had indeed went very, very wrong inside that house. Because no longer was Suguru’s cursed energy driven by regular means like a regular jujutsu sorcerer.

No. All you could see from his cursed energy was pure malice and raw, unadulterated rage and anger.

Whatever these people said or have done to send him into such fury like this, you couldn’t move, only think. This is the day they die.

Out of the house comes two— No, three. Suguru being one of them. A man and a woman, both with ugly faces and ugly auras you didn’t like.

No wonder Suguru doesn’t like them.

A curse manifests from your friend’s fingertips, and you quickly realize what’s about to happen — the only thing that could happen.

But he can’t just kill them…

You step out of your hiding spot and shout his name. Shock enters Suguru’s eyes. Of course; he hadn’t expected you to be here. But then they glaze over with a mixture of emotions. Disappointment seems to be the most obvious.

Curse you, Yuki Tsukumo, for tipping him over the edge.

“Don’t even try it, Suguru.”

“You shouldn’t have come, [Name].” It sounded like a warning.

You scoff slightly. “And let you do something like this? I don’t think so.”

His eyes narrow. It’s an expression you don’t like.

“You need to leave.”

“So do you, apparently.”

“Don’t be like this, [Name]. Don’t make me hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t anyway. Why let one awful circumstance, one awful event, define the rest of your life?”

“Do you know what they’ve done?” he asks, and you clearly hear the intent of violence behind his tone. You see his jaw clench up and a dangerous fire ignite behind his eyes. “Do you know they have two girls locked up in there, ready to kill?”

“Of course not,” you say, “but you were about to do something that was going to impact your life… Forever.”

“I think I’m ready for that.”

“You’re ready to lose everything?”

“If I must.”

You almost bite your tongue. But you don’t, and speak anyway.

“Even me?”

The thick, black smokiness of one his curses dancing on his fingertips turns to wisps, almost vanishing. You see what the question does to him, so you press farther. Deeper into the unspoken part of you two’s relationship you’d both been afraid to touch on.

Then, he admits something, dipping first into waters that haven’t been treaded into.

“I’d like to think you’d come with me, be by my side.”

Your heart thumps faster. It’s a declaration of many things: loyalty, friendship, trust.

But all your ears hear is a declaration of love.

Because you don’t miss the way his eyes shine as he looks you up and down like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. Like he wants you to actually follow him like he expected, to come with him and step in place next to him like an equal.

If not more than just an equal.

“I can’t do that,” you reply. “You know I can’t, Suguru. And neither can you.”

It’s written all over his face that he doesn’t like your answer.

“And why can’t I?”

“Because you’re better than this.”

…

…

Was he? What did that mean anyway: being better? After Riko, after his “talk” with Yuki, everything just seemed to collapse around him; everything he knew ripping apart at the seams faster than he could repair them.

Why? Why was he supposed to be better? How could he be better? Did he deserve to even become better?

“Don’t take the easy way,” you tell him. “There’ll never be a right answer, not right now at least.”

“Killing all non-sorcerers seems like a pretty good start,” he replies darkly.

“And how would you even manage that?” you retort. “If that’s the only thing you can stand on, that’s shallow.”

“Then what is the answer, [Name]? Do tell me, please,” he urges sarcastically, rolling his dark eyes. “Is killing every non-sorcerer not worth us jujutsu sorcerers having a chance to live?”

You answer as earnestly as he expects, “I have no idea, but at the moment, it sounds pretty stupid.”

Unfortunately, it takes him much longer than you want for him to put the monster at his fingertips away, for his cursed energy to dip down and go back to the way it was before it spiked in a rage you’d never anticipated to see from him.

The village is scathed with fire and terror: burned buildings with its inhabitants shaken to the core over the consequences of their actions — and what would happen if they tried to put more children in the cage Suguru found them in. It’s not ethical, and surely you’d hear about it from the higher-ups in jujutsu society.

But for the girls wrapped up in yours and Suguru’s arms, you heart and soul knew it was worth it.

Megumi doesn’t get along with Nanako too well. But you’re sure you know why, with his red cheeks and all.

“You think he’ll ever say anything?” you ask your husband.

“Doubtful,” Suguru chuckles, “considering he was raised by Satoru.”

It’s been a rough ten years raising the twins. There’s been a long list of issues, struggles over the last several years that have really put your relationship with your now-husband to the test. From the elders to Suguru’s own conflicting ideals; from his own coping mechanisms to making sure you and his girls are well taken care of, and those are just a few to list. But fixing Satoru and Suguru’s friendship was by far the most difficult thing.

Riko’s death really did change them in the most awful ways.

“Satoru has only gotten crazier over the years,” you hum, agreeing. “I still can’t believe Satoru brought Sukuna’s vessel here.”

“I think you mean stupid, darling,” Suguru chuckles. “And did you know he gave Itadori a second finger?”

“Disgusting! All in true Satoru taste, too.”

“Hey! I can hear you two, you know!” the white-haired male complains.

“Good!” you shout back.

And cue Satoru’s crocodile tears. “Suguru really did marry a witch!”

You feel the veins in your head twitch with irritation. You’d always hated that damn nickname.

You moved to stand up to go and whack the shit out of the manchild, but your husband’s hand settled on your knee. You looked at him curiously, sitting back down.

“Sit,” he says. “Getting worked up like that isn’t good for you right now. Shoko said to keep it minimal for now, remember?”

You snort. “You’ve drilled it into me, Sugu.”

“Good. I’ll be back in a moment.”

His hand rests on your belly for moment, presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then stands up to go and beat the shit out of his best friend to defend his wife’s honor.

And maybe to have some fun, too.

taglist: @vagabond-umlaut • @itzmeme • @dellalyra • @torusmochi

[gummilutt]

Updated Inge Table Counter Controller

I am a big fan of Inge from simlogical's table and counter controller, it is a wonderful tool that helps us guide our Sims to make smarter choices about where to eat or place food. I love that I can have a breakfast nook that is actually used for breakfast, and a dining room that is used the rest of the day. But this specific home above proved beyond the tools ability, as it treats island counters the same as ordinary counters, and my Sim kept blocking his own breakfast spot by using that counter to place the group meal. Off to fix it I went!

I have added four additional functions to the controller:

Island counter surface use setting is now separated from ordinary counters, for scenarios like the one above where you want to stop your Sims from blocking an eating spot by using it for storage

Enable all/disable all option added, for those cases where you want to quickly turn off all options, for example on outdoor tables during winter.

Added alternative object model shapes, for greater variation and to better suit outdoor use.

A "Times" menu with the hours for each category listed, to help you remember what the cutoffs are, for those of you like me that aren't good with remembering numbers.

I have only edited two out of the three necessary files, but all three are included in the download for the sake of convenience. If you had the controller previously please make sure to delete your old versions of "ijTableCounterController" and "ijCounterControllerPatch". Previously placed controllers will retain their settings, as long as you do not load the game with no controller in downloads. If this object is completely new to you, I recommend you check out Inge's original upload to learn more about how it works :)

Download from simfileshare

Original object was BG compatible I believe, but various models I chose are from later EPs/SPs so I recommend having all games to use this.

Credits: Inge, whoward at picknmix for all his help that have enabled me to learn enough to understand Inge's original code and figure out how to adapt it, all the great CC makers of things visible in pictures. If you wonder where something is from I am happy to see if I can find it.

[itsjusthockey]

The Hangover - Jack Hughes

A/N: Hello friends, this is my first ever post on here and I hope you love it. I like to write in my free time, so send in requests! Or just send some love!❤️

wc:1,694 (credit to gif maker) (also please don’t steal my work)

———————————

It’s early enough in the morning when your eyes drift slowly open, and a prolonged yawn involuntarily escapes your lips. You’re feeling a bit dazed from the early hour, and It takes you a second to register where you are, but when you do, a small smile break across your lips.

Rolling over, you see him in his most tranquil state. Arms laying flat on either side of him, head slightly tilted away from you against his pillow. He seems like he’s barely breathing, yet when your eyes scan his chest, there's the sight of it slowly rising and deflating with each inhale and exhale he takes. Your eyes travel back up, and you see his eyes darting back and forth under his lids, and you wonder what he’s dreaming about.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand starts to slide across the bed sheets, and they find themselves lightly inching along his chest. You wait there, looking for some kind of shift or movement of his body, but he's still, ever present in his dream world.

It's moments like these that you live for, the peace before the chaos of everything else. Nothing bothers you here, at least until you want them to. You revel in these moments. Yet, watching him isn’t enough; you’re craving the intimacy of being in his arms, so even though you don’t want to wake him, you feel my heart call out too much to let him sleep any longer.

You’re careful as you scooch closer to his frame, cuddling up close and wrapping your arm over his torso. Your heart aches, even more, when you inhale the smell of his body wash.

“Jack,” you whisper, barely audible. When silence answers you, your forefinger finds its way back to him. Poking the side of his face, maybe a little harder than you should. “Jack”

His nose crinkles up at your attack, and you Immediately swipe your hand away and shrivel under the covers, nervously watching him until you see his pretty green eyes pierce yours. They blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the sunlight but struggling to pry open from sleep.

You feel slightly like you’ve committed treason, waking him up after the night he had, but your worries wash away when he grabs your arm, pulling you into him. He starts to smother you into his body, pulling your arm to reach over his torso as your leg naturally swings over his midsection.

You feel your eyes naturally melt to a close as he consumes your whole body, the heat transfer of his skin warming you nicely as your cheek lays along his pec.

You feel most comfortable as you lay in his arms, gently drawing shapes on his forearm that’s rested on yours. You hear his breathing steadily again, and you realize you have lost. There is no way he’s getting up, and you’re okay with that. Especially while in this position. You feel every bit of love and romance you don’t always get in these small moments, and you silently hope that everyone leaves you alone for a while.

Your eyes close after a moment, and you can feel yourself growing tired with the extra heat of Jacks' body when suddenly you feel him shift under you, and suddenly he goes rigid.

“Fuck.” He quickly pushes you from him and goes to clutch his mouth as he hurries toward the connected bathroom.

You’re a little shocked and perplexed, but it all becomes clear when you hear the sounds of Jack emptying his stomach contents into the toilet.

Well, moment ruined.

You hear him go back for round two as you quickly exit the bedroom, heading directly for the kitchen. The house is quiet, and you’re very thankful for the soundproof bedrooms, or else everyone would be graced with Jack's not-so-pleasant good morning.

In less than a minute, you’ve secured the goods; a bottle of water, a blue Gatorade, tums, and some Advil. You quickly dart back up the stairs, and when you renter the bedroom, you’re happy not to hear wrenching.

As you walk into the bathroom, you see Jack slumped over the toilet, looking a little shaky but otherwise normal. He turns his face to meet you when you enter, and you can’t help but let a laugh bubble from your lips.

“I’m glad you find this funny.” You snicker even more at his attitude.

You control your laughter as you sink to the floor beside him, going to rub his bare back as he rests his head against the toilet seat.

“Bet you’re regretting that fireball, huh?” You ask.

He shoots you a glare but then nods. “Yeah, not that great coming back up.”

You laugh again and hand him the bottle of water, which he graciously accepts and takes a small sip.

“Are you done, or got some left?” You nod your head toward the toilet.

He shakes his head, and you help him get up to his feet, semi-dragging him back to his bed. When you get there, he slumps forward onto the mattress, and you somehow maneuver him so he’s tucked in again.

Once he’s good, you turn to head downstairs, where you currently hear some banging around, but before you make it one step, you feel his hand go to grip your wrist.

“Where are you going?” He hoarsely speaks.

“Downstairs. Go to sleep for a bit longer, J, and take those tums.”

He doesn’t protest, which is a relief, and you make your way down the stairs again and into the kitchen, where you’re greeted by Luke, who looks like he’s been hit by a truck and backed over again.

His hair is sticking up in all directions, and the bad under his eyes are so puffy you’re a little worried he has an allergic reaction.

“Wow, Lukey, are you good?”

He doesn’t answer; he just shakes his head no, staring off into space. You almost want to laugh again when suddenly Quinn rounds the corner, looking even more horrible than Luke. It’s not even his hair that’s crazy, it’s his eyebrows too, and then there is the black eye.

So that’s nice; all three Hughes brothers are down for the count.

“So if I’m being honest, I’m only like 10 percent sure how I got this.” Quinn points to his eye.

This time a laugh does fall from your lips. “Do you guys have any memory of what happened last night?”

They both look at each other and contemplate for a minute, shaking their heads.

“I remember Jack bringing out Fireball, and then it gets a little hazy.”

As Quinn mentions fireball, you hear Luke gag, and you’re hoping he’s not about to puke too. He gets ahold of himself, and you’re relieved.

“Well, let’s just say you guys had an eventful night.” You tease.

Quinn groans. “What time did we get in?”

“Well. I stopped you from heading to the rink to show Jack “who’s boss” at around 2:30. So around 3 is when you all were wrangled and in bed.”

Quinn groans again and lets his face fall into the cold metal of the fridge. “Is that how I got the black eye?”

You shake your head no. “That would be from Luke kicking you in the face when you tried to steal his Baja Blast freeze.”

As you finish my statement, you see Luke freeze, a bewildered expression crossing his face.

“I kicked him in the face?”

You nod again. “You were very protective of your slushy.”

Luke opens his mouth in disbelief but is interrupted when you hear loud and rather obnoxious groans coming from the stairs.

Jack enters the kitchen, and all three brothers look like a sight to behold. Each has that blank expression you get after a bad hangover, and you want to take a picture.

Jack crosses the kitchen to where you’re sitting and places a quick kiss on your forehead. “Sorry about earlier.”

You wave him off, Quinn gives me a confused expression, and you explain. “Jack puked.”

Quinn nods, and then you see Luke himself go a bit rigid.

“Speaking of puke, be right back.” Luke darts away from the kitchen and slams the nearest bathroom door shut.

“And another one bites the dust. You wanna go three for three, Q?”

He shakes his head and goes to take a tiny sip of water. “Nah, I’m good.”

As he struggles to get the water down, you’re less than convinced, but you drop it when Jack sits down next to your chair and drops his head down on the cool granite countertop.

You hear my stomach growl, and you pop a question. “Anyone hungry?”

At the very mention of food, the two present boys groan.

“I’m never eating or drinking again,” Jack says, face still pressed against the counter, ever the drama queen.

You laugh again and pull out some orange juice, pouring some into a glass and sitting back down next to Jack.

You sit there in silence for a minute when Luke comes back into the kitchen, looking a little less green than before.

Looking at the mess in front of you, you make an executive decision.

“How about you three crawl back to bed and sleep this off?

Quinn perks up like he’s never heard a better idea, and pretty soon, he and Luke are in their rooms with plenty of water and Advil, leaving only Jack behind.

“That means you too, come on.” You drag him from his stool.

“Wait, are you coming too?” His eyes are pleading. “Please?”

Your heart melts a bit at his statement. “Come on, J.”

In ten minutes, you are back in back in bed with everything you could need, including a bucket, just in case.

As you’re sitting here, pressed against his chest, you can’t help but think he was planning this all along, being babied, but you don’t mind every once in a while.

As soon as his breathing slows down, you feel yourself drift off, feeling content with the world when Jack suddenly becomes rigid again.

“Babe, I'm gonna need the bucket.”

I love you and thank for reading

[honeyedmiller]

A Forever Thing | Joel Miller

i do not own the gif above. all rightful credit goes to the maker of the gif.

pairing: husband!joel miller x pregnant!wife!reader

warnings: no outbreak, fluff, brief mention of infertility, pregnancy.

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: you and joel have been trying for a baby since the night you two married, but haven't had any luck... until you do.

-

You stare down at the three tests on the bathroom counter. The six lines across all three tests stare back at you, and you feel so woozy.

Three years. Three years since you got married to the absolute love of your life. Three years you've been trying for a baby, but no luck. Three years of wondering if there was something wrong with your body, that you couldn't bare a child, that you were infertile.

Three years of sobbing to your husband, who shed tears as well, because you both thought you'd never get the chance of having a baby of your own. You had your stepdaughter Sarah, whom you unconditionally loved (who'd practically been calling you 'mom' since she was around ten years old), but you wanted to experience motherhood from your own body. You wanted to see your belly grow, shower your baby with gifts, have your husband kiss and talk to your protruding stomach, saying he couldn't wait for their arrival on Earth.

Tears sprung to your eyes as a sob left your mouth, covering it quickly. This had to be a dream.

Was it?

No. This was real. This was so real, and you couldn't wait to tell Joel.

A sharp knock on the bathroom door occurred only seconds later, with Sarah calling for you on the other side.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Sarah's voice is soft, but laced with concern.

"You can open the door, honey." You call back to her, and she almost immediately does. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes flicker to your tear-stained face, down to the tests on the counter.

"Is that-?" She pauses as she stands next to you, eyes scanning the devices on the counter. "Oh my god, it is! No way!" She exclaims in pure excitement as her arms gently wrap around your torso.

"You're gonna be a big sister, baby." You kiss her head as more tears fall down your cheeks, and she starts to cry with you. She knows you and her father have been trying for a baby, and was saddened for you every time a test turned out negative. She wanted a little sibling so bad.

"How are we gonna tell Dad?" Her glossy eyes move up to yours as she stares at you in wonder, her arms never leaving your middle.

"I say we cook a fancy dinner for him and put one test in a box as a present." You smile as you rest your hand on her cheek, thumb grazing back and forth.

"Yeah! And maybe I can get a 'big sister' shirt?" She asks, knowing you two would have to go to the store anyhow to get ingredients to make Joel's favorite— T-bone steak with country potatoes and corn on the cob.

You laugh at her advances, and nod your head. "Sure thing, baby."

-

You two went to the store and came back in about an hour's time, and you started to prep dinner. It was a Saturday, so Joel wouldn't be at the construction site too late. He usually got home around five; it was currently two thirty.

Sarah helped you as she chopped up and seasoned the potatoes, putting them in a pan to simmer for awhile. You worked on the steak and the corn, and while the food was cooking, Sarah made a small cake that she frosted herself.

It was four forty-five by the time dinner was almost done, and Sarah helped you set out place mats on the table for four, just in case Tommy decided to join you guys for dinner.

Joel walked into the house not even ten minutes later, looking tired but happy to be home to his girls.

"Somethin' smells delicious in here." He calls out, entering the kitchen to find you and Sarah.

"Hey Dad." Sarah smiles, wondering if he'll notice her 'big sister' shirt she had on, which you two luckily found at the store.

"Hey pumpkin." He pulls her in for a hug before kissing the top of her head. His eyes graze over to you, a smile full of nothing but pure love drawn onto his lips.

"Hi darlin'," He moved to you as he hugged you and gave you a sweet kiss. "What's all this?" He gestures toward the food that was done, sitting hot on the stove.

"Just a little treat for my hardworking man." You smile as his eyes turn soft, bringing you in for a kiss.

"Mind if I shower before we enjoy this delicious meal? I'll be quick. I stink." Joel chuckles, and you notice a sheen of sweat covering his neck and forehead.

"Of course. It'll be ready for you when you come back." You kiss his cheek and he taps your butt softly before disappearing into your shared bedroom upstairs. Sarah gives you a knowing look and you smile giddily, serving the plates and opening a cold beer from the fridge for Joel.

-

He was downstairs twenty minutes later, his hair damp and slicked back. He smelt like musky amber wood and pine, and he smelled damn good.

"No beer for you, baby?" Joel notices your glass full of sweet tea instead of the usual beer you'd share with him with a dinner like this.

"Not today, honey. Just felt like havin' some sweet tea." You grin as you clink your glass to his beer bottle, both of you taking a swig of your drinks.

"So, what did my girls do today?" He looks between you and Sarah, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"Nothin' much, just went to the store for stuff for dinner and made dinner." Sarah shrugs, giving you a small smile of secrecy, which luckily, Joel doesn't notice as his eyes move down to his food.

"Which is delicious, by the way. Thank you." He takes a bite of his tender steak, groaning at the flavor.

"Seriously, baby, there's no occasion for this? I know it's my favorite meal and all, but-"

The front door opens and Tommy emerges, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Hey y'all, sorry 'm late." He's breathless as he reaches the kitchen, fixing himself a plate. You chuckle at his late arrival, really expecting nothing less from the younger Miller brother.

"What'd I miss?" He asks as he takes his seat between Joel and Sarah, sitting across from you.

"Nothing, we were just talking about our days." You smile softly at him, eyes moving to Joel who was too engaged in the delicious meal, only half paying attention to the current conversation.

"Ah, seriously. It's been a long one." Tommy cracks his neck before delving into the meal, a small praise coming from him at yours and Sarah's cooking.

You take another sip of your sweet tea as the room falls silent, you and Sarah exchanging knowing glances.

"Why are you two lookin—holy shit." Tommy exclaims, first noticing you and Sarah, then Sarah's shirt, which Joel still hasn't looked at.

"What?" Joel asks, his head snapping up as he looks between the three of you.

"Are you serious?" Tommy looks at you, the biggest smile you've ever seen on his face.

Joel's brows furrow in worry, "What's goin' on?" He wipes his mouth as he swallows the last bites of his meal, and you look at him with teary eyes.

"Sarah, honey, can you get the present from the counter, please?" You ask her, and Joel's face displays pure confusion. She nods at you and happily leaps from her seat, getting the small rectangular box from the kitchen island and she brought it to you. She sat back down, looking between you and Joel.

"What's this?" Joel asks as you hand him the present, which he gingerly takes.

"Open it." You whisper, and his gaze remains on yours before faltering and moving down to the box. He lifts the lid of the box and freezes when he sees the contents inside. He couldn't believe it.

He looks up at you, glossy eyes matching your own.

"Y'serious?" His voice cracks, and you nod, a sob leaving your lips once more. You both stand at the same time, and he wraps you in his warm embrace as tears stream down his tan face.

"Darlin', oh," He coos, rocking you back and forth as you sob.

"We're gonna have a baby, Joel." Your cries fill the room as he hugs you tightly, but not too tight. He was already cautionary and it made your heart swoon. He pulls apart from you and gives you a long kiss, cupping one cheek with his broad palm as the other is splayed on your back, pulling you flush against him.

"Congrats you guys." Tommy gets up and hugs both of you, kissing you on the cheek. Sarah joins in on the hug, moving shortly after to pull out the celebratory cake.

"I gotta take a picture of this moment." Tommy beams, grabbing the digital camera that resided on the side table next to the couch. He snaps a photo of you three, with you holding the pregnancy test in your hand as your glossy eyes and huge smiles shine bright in the photo you'd later hang on a wall in your house.

-

Joel couldn't stop kissing you and touching you more than usual that night, ecstatic to finally be having another baby, and one with the love of his life. He couldn't believe this was his reality.

He kept kissing your stomach, whispering sweet things to the little one growing inside. He couldn't wait to meet them. That night, Joel fell asleep on your stomach with his arms wrapped securely around you, pure bliss coursing through both of you as this is what you two've dreamed of for so long.

It's all he ever wanted; his girls, a growing family, and a house to call home, which you and Sarah were to him.

And he knew, deep down in his heart, it was a forever thing.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [11]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: sick child, fear and panic, angst/comfort

Word Count: 4,290

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #11: YOU DIDN’T

Chapter Summary: Vulnerability leads to sincerity. 

“falling for him wasn’t falling at all. it was walking into a house and suddenly knowing you’re home.” -r.i.d.

The sound of coughing woke you up. You sat up quickly to be surrounded by a silent house, and for one brief second you wondered if you had imagined it. Right before you laid back down, another bout of muffled coughing traveled through the walls. You threw the covers off your legs and rushed out of your room. You nearly burst into Mando’s room in your sleepy and panicked stupor, but as if your body remembered where your mind couldn't, you stopped at his closed door. If Grogu was awake and coughing that meant Mando was up and you would bet credits he didn’t have his helmet on. You rapped your knuckles on the wooden door.

“Mando?” You called out. “Is everything okay?”

You heard shuffling on the other side before the door was torn open. Mando stood there and even though he wore his helmet the word disheveled came to mind. He was holding a fussy Grogu to his chest. Mando shook his head. “I gave him the treatment. The⏤The nebulizer thing, but it isn’t helping.”

“How long has this been going on?” You asked. At the sound of your voice, Grogu let out a wail and turned around with open arms. Mando leaned forward and you didn’t hesitate to take the boy into your own arms. Immediately, you cradled him and began to rock him softly while whispering soft reassurances. 

“The last half hour.” Mando sighed. He lifted his hands to his helmet⏤ as if he were trying to smooth out his hair but forgot he was wearing the beskar. “I didn’t want to bother you, but I…”

The tone in his voice told you that if you hadn't gotten here when you did he would’ve rushed into your room anyways. Not that you minded. You gave Grogu a slight pat on the back as more coughs racked his small body. “You can always wake me, Mando.” He nodded and you frowned at the sound of Grogu’s sad whimpers. “Maybe we should take him to the clinic.”

“I thought about that, but all we have right now is a second hand medical droid and Daelar.” Mando sighed. He tilted his head and reached out to set his own hand on top of yours on Grogu’s back. “Do you think Bacta would help at all? In some way?”

You were still stuck on the first portion of his sentence to even fully hear the ridiculous ‘panicked parent’ question. “Mando,” You spoke slowly, “Are you telling me, other than a droid, the only medical professional we have in this city is dickhead Daelar?”

“The other two quit. Karga hired more, and they were supposed to be here by now, but they got hung up.”

“Oh Maker.” You’d trust a porg to perform a medical service before you did that jackass from the clinic. Mando stepped closer. This was the most tension you had ever seen him wear before. In this moment, he wasn’t a tough, unstoppable Mandalorian. He was just a worried dad. Grogu coughed and you forced yourself to slip out of your current role and step into the mind and training of a person with a medical background. His cough was dry⏤ hoarse and barking. There was no congestion. 

“Steam.” You blurted.

“What?”

“We need to fill the bathroom with steam.”

Mando needed no further prompting. He rushed past you and at the movement Grogu began to cry once more and reach out for his father. It seemed he wasn’t going to settle unless you were both in reach. You followed after Mando quickly. He had already turned on the hot water in both the sink and shower.

“Here.” You held him out. Mando took Grogu who settled in his father’s chest. “I’ll be right back.”

As you rushed out of the bathroom, you could hear Grogu fussing for you. It didn’t take long for you to dig through all your room for your medkit. You snuck back into the bathroom, squeezing through the smallest crack you could manage, then closed the door tight. Mando sat in the corner where the shower’s edge met the wall and was rubbing his son’s back.

“Ma cuyir norac. Dala cuyir olar.” Mando murmured.

Grogu coughed more and reached back for you. You knelt on the ground beside the two of them and dug out the thermometer you had packed away. Grogu didn’t feel hot to touch, but you didn’t want to risk it based on a guess. He whined and squirmed as you tried to set the tip into his ear and Mando responded by holding him tighter to keep him from jerking back.

“I know, baby. I know.” You mumbled while begging for the thermometer to finish. The beeping was music to your ears and at the very normal temperature you breathed a sigh of relief. “He has no fever.”

“Good.” Mando shared in your relief. 

“Let’s give the steam a chance to open his lungs. No fever means he’s stable, but if he doesn’t get better in the next ten minutes we gotta risk the droid and Daelar.” You said. Worst case scenario, you get to the clinic and you have to step up and act yourself.

Mando nodded in agreement. Hot steam continued to billow in the small room, and you sat as close to Mando as you could so you could soothingly rake your fingers against Grogu’s head and ears while Mando rubbed his back. Gradually, the coughing got slower. You noted that his fussiness was turning to drowsiness, but he continued to try and fight sleep. Faintly, you heard Mando singing in Mando’a⏤ his hoarse voice through the modulator giving the lullaby a soothing touch. 

After a few minutes of this, Grogu lifted his head and both you and Mando froze in worry. Rather than crying, the boy turned and reached out one arm to you. He weakly called out for you and you carefully took him from Mando’s arms. You shot Mando a worried look. You didn’t want to cross a boundary. Mando had been scared, an emotion you didn’t know Mandalorians could feel, and if holding his calmed down son in his arms helped then you wanted to give him that. Instead, Mando just nodded once. 

Grogu nestled into your chest, laying his head on your shoulder. Mando surprised you by shifting in his seated position to accommodate you. Now you were between his legs, and he wrapped his arms around you to pull you back into his chest. Tired, you sank into him and felt your body relax. Mando kept his arms around you⏤ one resting on your abdomen and the other on rubbing his son’s head like you had been earlier.

“How did you know steam would help?” Mando asked quietly. You could feel the rumble in his chest from his voice.

“Moist air.” You replied back just as softly. “To calm down the inflammation in his airway.”

“You read that in one of your books?” He asked. It occurred to you then that you were doing very little to hide your medical knowledge in this scenario. On a list of priorities, keeping your past secret was way, way below protecting Grogu. The kid came before anything and everything else. Mando lifted the hand resting on your abdomen and instead held it against your own arm letting his fingers trace your skin there. The motion was comforting. “I don’t know what I would do without you, cyar’ika.”

You chuckled. “You were doing just fine before I got here.” 

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you with the only sound being the running hot water, and Grogu’s soft snores. Finally, Mando spoke and the sudden rumbling in his chest nearly made you jump. “Can you… Can you stay facing forward? Don’t turn around. Please.”

The almost pleading sound in that last word felt like a stranglehold around your heart. Unable to find words, you just nodded simply. Mando pulled his arm away from you and let his hand trace the entire length of your arm before it disappeared. You felt him moving, heard the hiss of a release, then⏤ just out of the corner of your eyes⏤ you saw his hand set his helmet on the floor. You were breathless. Mando pulled you in closer and placed his arm back where it had been. However, this time you felt his chin rest on your shoulder. He leaned his head against the side of yours. The level of trust he was showing. All it would take was a slight turn of your head⏤ even if you just peered out of the corner of your eyes⏤ you could see him. Too worried about accidentally seeing him, you closed your eyes.

“We were fine, sure.” Mando said, his voice unfiltered through a modulator. You thought you had been addicted to listening to him speak before, but now? Like this? Dank farrik. He continued. “But, it’s because we didn’t know what we were missing.” You wanted to speak, but you didn’t have the words. It seemed Mando hadn’t run out of them quite yet though. “I’m not used to losing control. I don’t panic. That was trained out of me ages ago, but tonight I⏤” Mando breathed out a sigh and you felt the air on your skin. “I didn’t know what to do. Grogu’s never been sick before. But you…”

“It’s⏤” You took in a breath. “It’s normal for a parent to panic when their kid is sick.”

“You didn’t.” Mando replied. The simple words insinuating that you were in the same position as he was. A parent. You tightened your arms around Grogu. Mando chuckled, “The way you just took charge. Cyar’ika…” Mando pulled his head back. Before you could miss his warmth, you felt his lips brush against the skin where your shoulder met your neck. You took in a sharp breath. Mando had facial hair. You could feel it. He pulled Grogu and you closer to his chest. “Ni aalar sha yaim ti gar.”

“You said that before.” You mumbled, vaguely recognizing the words that you didn't even know you knew. “That night. Before I fell asleep in bed. I think you said that.”

“I did.”

“Will you tell me what it means?”

“One day, cyar’ika.”

You drifted off to sleep⏤ safe with both your boys.

Din didn’t realize he had crossed a line until he woke up with his arms wrapped around you in the soft morning light streaming through his bedroom window. Last night was a nightmare. Din had never felt so useless before. Anytime his son was in danger, it was always something physical that he could respond to. Storm troopers, rival bounty hunters, Moff kriffing Gideon. All of it Din could do something⏤ there was an action he could take. Last night though? Grogu was sick, and he had never dealt with that before. The enemy threatening his son was internal, and Din was at a loss. This wasn’t somebody he could use his blaster on, this wasn’t an adversary he could disintegrate or burn, it was an illness he couldn’t touch. Din had felt useless and that was his absolute worst nightmare⏤ to be able to do nothing as his son suffered.

When you came to his door, worry evident in your voice, he had been minutes away from kicking down your door himself. He had tried to handle it on his own, used the medicine given to him by the doctor, but it did nothing but make Grogu fussier. 

The way you took action? The way you pushed forward without an ounce of fear or panic drawn on your calm, gorgeous features? The way Grogu instinctively knew, as he did, that you were a figure of safety? Din could have cried. Sitting in the bathroom watching the steam aid his son’s breathing and calm that horrid coughing⏤ he nearly did. Din was so thankful that Grogu had never gotten sick on the Razor Crest. So thankful that you had been here to act. 

It was why he hadn’t paused in pulling you into his arms. Holding you tight against his chest, you cradling Grogu protectively to your chest, had been the moment his racing heart had finally begun to calm down. The panic eased off and was replaced by the feeling of safety. Maybe physically he could fist fight his way through a problem and feel confident, but mentally and emotionally Din always felt at a loss. You were a pillar of steadfast reliability. Your presence was a soothing balm to his turbulent mind. Feeling you pressed against him still hadn’t been enough for him. Din didn’t give his words or movements a second thought when he pulled his helmet off last night. There was no waging war or torment plaguing him at the thought of it. It reminded him of that moment on Gideon’s ship when he took his helmet off for Grogu that first time. It had just been the right thing to do⏤ it just made sense. 

Din trusted you not to turn and look at him, and he needed that moment. He needed to be able to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Breathe in the smell of your soap unhindered by a wall of beskar. Press his lips to your shoulder. Maker, he had never needed anything more desperately. Din had felt like a man stranded in the desert aching and searching for water and the feel of your skin was an oasis. 

You had fallen asleep leaning into him. The sound of Grogu’s light snores mingling with yours had been a melody he could spend forever listening to. With no forethought, no self doubt, Din had shifted to pick you up and carried you both to his bed. His only concern had been to stay close to you and Grogu, so he crawled into bed behind you and buried his face in your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you and his son.

That was how Din woke up. Helmet less and curled around your body.

His first morning thought had been an admiration of how well you seemed to fit with him. His second thought was the return of reality. Din Djarin had crossed a line, and though you didn’t seem opposed to it, that didn’t change the facts. He would not be able to untangle himself from you and pretend like everything was normal. Not after this. Any semblance of self control he had was melted away from the steam of last night.

Din lifted his head just enough to see Grogu was still fast asleep. He had fallen away from your chest, but he now laid on his belly right beside you⏤ one of your arms covering him protectively. Maker, if he could just pause time…

He needed to get up. Based on the morning light, Cara would probably start looking for him soon. Din gave himself one more second of this moment. He pulled you in closer, took a long breath, and then softly pressed a kiss at the exposed space right beneath your ear. You sighed in your sleep, the sound dreamy enough to make him consider quitting his job altogether just so he could live in this moment, and pressed into him for warmth. He reminded himself that this was not how he wanted the conversation of line crossing to start⏤ with you waking up in his arms, with his face exposed, and his morning wood pressed against your ass. Bad idea. Very bad idea. Using every ounce of strength he had, Din pulled his arms away from you and slid out of bed. 

Din readjusted himself then went searching for his helmet. It had been left on the bathroom floor. As he slid it on, he was mildly impressed with himself. He hadn’t remembered turning off the faucets, but apparently some part of him from last night had enough mindset to do so. He had to sneak back into his room to find his communicator, but then settled in the kitchen leaning against the island counter. A pot of caf was brewing behind him as he checked his messages. He had a few questioning ones from Mayfeld and Cara, missed calls from Cara as well, and he even noted a missed call from Grogu’s school. All three of you had slept in a lot longer than intended.

The first call he made was to Grogu’s school just to let them know he was sick and wouldn’t be in. They were very understanding and wished him well. Before responding to either of his deputies, he poured himself a now finished cup of caf and lifted his helmet just enough to take a long sip. Before he could make the next call, the sounds of bare feet padding across the floor drifted to him. Din looked to the arch in time to see you step into the kitchen⏤ still in your pajamas and eyes half lidded with the remainders of your sleep.

“Morning.” Din murmured. You echoed the sentiment and rubbed your face while he began to pour another mug of caf for you. You reached his side by the island counter and Din set the mug in front of you. A thanks was mumbled briefly before you took a long sip. Din let his eyes soak in the sight of you and he couldn’t bite back the sigh that left his lips.

You set the mug down and offered him a small smile. “Grogu is still sleeping.” Din nodded. “Poor baby is tuckered out from last night.”

“Thank you again.” Din said.

“You don’t need to thank me for that. You never need to thank me for that.” You rested an elbow on the counter while facing him and slumped against the counter. Din mirrored your posture and the two of you stared at one another in the quiet of the house. Din had worried that in the morning light things would feel awkward⏤ you would seem uncomfortable. It was the opposite though. It was as if the wall between him and you had finally crumbled to dust and now all that remained was a palpable tension. A delicious one.

It was better than the moment right before he caught a difficult quarry. Better than the seconds right before he’d nose dive his ship mid flight to avoid a pursuer. Better than the beeping sound of his ship’s weapons locking onto an enemy. Better than the free fall when he was in the air right before he activated his jetpack. Din faced a lot of thrills in his life, but nothing was better than this moment right here. You and him were rising to a precipice and Maker did Din want to push both of you over the edge.

“Cyar’ika⏤”

“Mando⏤”

You both spoke at the same time only to stop and chuckle. Din shifted so he was a step closer to you. You leaned toward him rather than backing away and his chest swelled with pride. He reached out and let the tips of his fingers trail down your bare arm until they found your hand. You turned your hand just enough to allow him to tangle his grip with yours. 

“I think we should talk.” His words came out in a hoarse whisper.

You squeezed his hand with a nod. “I think you’re right.”

Din was torn between being thankful for his helmet and hating it right now. If he didn’t have it on he could just show you how he felt⏤ kiss you and make sure you felt every ounce of passion he felt for you. He wasn’t good at words, he was good at action. With the helmet on, he’d have to rely on voicing what you meant to him. At least the beskar hid his face. At least you couldn’t see how nervous he felt.

“Ever since you’ve settled here,” Din began, he cleared his throat, “I’ve been⏤”

The shrill sound of his communicator blared in the quiet kitchen making both of you jump apart. His hand slipped from yours and there was suddenly too much space between the two of you. Din picked up the communicator, cursed at Mayfeld’s name, and glanced back at you. You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck, your lips ticked up in a small smile, and then nodded. “You need to get that.”

Your words sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of that as well. Din heaved a sigh and answered the communicator. He snapped. “What?”

“Mando! Finally! Where the kriff are you!?” Mayfeld barked back at him. Din’s annoyance was subdued when he heard the familiar sounds of blaster fire.

“What’s going on?”

“Those damn pirates are back and they brought friends.” Mayfeld replied. “We’re out in the lava plains. Looks like they’ve either set up base or traps but either way⏤” His voice was interrupted by more blaster fire then what sounded like Cara angrily yelling curses, “Mando! We need that shiny beskar covered ass out here, now please.”

“I’m coming. Send your coordinates.” Din hung up. His gaze met yours. “Cyar’ika⏤”

“Go. We’ll be fine here.” You replied. “I was going to take Grogu to the clinic. As much as I hate Daelar⏤”

“No.” Din blurted as his hands grasped your arms. He shook his head, grip loosening. “No, don’t. Don’t leave this house. I’ll get Daelar to make a home visit.” 

The thought of you being out in Nevarro with Grogu while the pirates were this close made him ill. 

You nodded. “Oh, okay.”

Din forced himself to step away from you so he could get dressed. You stayed in the kitchen. When he entered his bedroom, shutting the door behind him, he saw Grogu blink his large eyes open and yawn. Din pulled his helmet off to greet his son with a reassuring smile while simultaneously changing into his flight suit.

“Work, buir?” Grogu grumbled.

“Work, ad’ika.” He replied. Din paused before pulling on his beskar to ask in Mando’a, “How do you feel?”

Grogu didn’t offer an answer but he buried himself deeper into the blankets with a content babble. Din took that as a good sign. He quickly pulled on his armor and scooped his helmet back up off the bed where he had tossed it. Din knelt down and Grogu sat up enough to allow him to set his forehead against his.

“Be good today.” He said. “Ma is going to take care of you, but I need you to look out for her as well.”

Grogu chirped out a confirmation, still drowsy, and Din took the time to tuck his son comfortably in bed before tugging his helmet on. Before leaving his room, he reached into a drawer to pull out a new blaster. It was small and lightweight in his own hands, but it would fit in yours perfectly. He had it built for you after all. Din ordered it hours after getting back from your first shooting lessons, and it had been completed days ago. He just hadn’t had the opportunity to give it you. Din wanted to take you back out so you could train with this specifically, but he’d have to settle for now.

Din wasn’t going to walk out of this house without knowing you had something in reach to protect yourself and Grogu. As a back up, of course. Din’s plan involved you never having to actually use it.

He hurried out of his room, back to the kitchen, and saw you standing over the stove stirring a pot. Din paused beside you and let his hand settle on your lower back. It looked like you were making some kind of rice porridge for Grogu. At his touch though, you lifted the pot to set it on a cool burner and faced him.

“You’ll be careful, right?” You asked. There was fear in your eyes and Din hated it.

“I will.” He replied. “Take this.” When he pressed the blaster into your hands, your eyes widened. “Keep it by your side today. Grogu knows better than to mess with any of my weapons, but he’s also a little womp rat so…” You let out a soft laugh and his lips ticked up. He needed to go. Din needed to hurry out. Before he could question himself, Din leaned down so he could set his forehead against yours. You took in a sharp breath and he carefully cradled the side of your face. “Do not leave the house today. Please. I’ll have my communicator on if you need anything, don’t hesitate, but⏤” Din sighed. “Please, cyar’ika, I just need to know you and Grogu are safe today.”

You set your empty hand on top of his and Din wished he didn’t have to feel your touch through the leather of his glove. “I promise we’ll stay here. Just come back home in one piece, Mando.”

“Din.” He whispered.

You pulled back just an inch, still hovering close enough that your breath could fog up his t-visor, “Wh⏤What?”

“My name.” He said. “It’s Din Djarin.”

“Din.” The way his name fell from your lips in that sweet voice nearly sent him to his knees. “Be safe, Din.”

He couldn’t afford to stay another minute. It would only make it that much harder to go. Din hurried out of his home and activated his jetpack the moment he was outside. The sooner this was dealt with the sooner he’d be back to you and Grogu.

  mando'a translations

 Cyar’ika: Darling /// Ad’ika: son /// Buir: Father

Ma cuyir norac. Dala cuyir olar: Ma is back. She's here.

[dailyreverie]

Adore you

Part of the Your Wish is my Command universe

A/N: Requested by @dameronshandholder 💖 thank you so much for sending one in! This one ended up being 700 words of Poe being a sweetheart (and tbh exactly what I need rn). I hope you enjoy this warm Poe hug 😊

@flufftober - Day 4 Cinderella Moment (the "ugly duckling" gets their moment to shine)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Solo!reader

Word count: 763

Flufftober masterlist || SERIES MASTERLIST

If there was something Poe truly admired about you, it was your quiet dedication. You always knew just what to say and when to say it, your words carrying an intelligent and thoughtful touch. Even during missions, your first instinct was to praise your team and share the credit with them. "I don't need anyone kissing the ground I walk on," you had once remarked, prompting a playful roll of Poe's eyes. He respects your work, applauds it every time he can, but sometimes he wishes you would let others see how hard you worked.

Poe's wish came true when you returned from a week-long mission, one that had started with you sifting through intel at your desk and eventually leading your squad to investigate a supposed First Order station. Your departure had been a quick, hidden kiss behind crates, but your return was met with cheers and applause. 

He sees you come back victorious, like a bounty hunter who was about to get their life's worth in credits. The word had spread quickly, and soon not only the general, but most of the base went up to you. He sees you from afar, not able to contain the proud smile that begins to form on his face and the warmth in his chest that creeps up when he sees the praise you are receiving from everyone. With everyone clapping and cheering your cheeks begin to hurt from smiling and laughing; your mother goes up to hug you and whispers something in your ear that Poe can only guess is a confirmation of how proud she is of you, your own squad pushing you to receive the recognition you deserve. He could spend all day every day hearing all the wonderful things about you that you are getting from everyone, just to make you see that everything he sees in you is true.

From his spot far away from the crowd, Poe can see the sudden flicker of your eyes among the multitude that surrounds you, your search for him evident in his eyes, to which he can’t help but chuckle. You find him as if you had heard him, your cheeks immediately heating up from the way he’s looking at you alone, welcoming and shining, ignoring every rule of discretion you may have set before. If it were for you, you would ignore everyone else and run towards him, wrap your arms around him, and let yourself melt in the sweet nothings you knew he was saving for your ears only. 

When the crowd finally dissipates he’s still standing there, the same glorious smile on his face waiting for you when you finally go up to him.

"Lieutenant," Poe greeted you with a nod, his smile revealing the depth of his feelings.

"Commander," you replied, your cheeks still flushed. "All of this attention feels a bit much." You did your best to remain professional in your words, knowing people could still be around, but deep inside, you yearned for Poe to whisk you away to his quarters and let you forget about the mission entirely.

“Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, what you did was amazing. You deserve every praise, and every cheer, and every hug everyone wants to give to you.” Poe declared, his hands gently caressing your shoulders with subtle motions to keep your focus on him. "I'm so glad that everyone can now see what I see. That you see what I see."

“Thanks, Poe.” Your words choke on your throat. You didn’t expect to get emotional, but the way he speaks makes tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes, his kind and beautiful eyes only emphasizing every word he says. 

"I'm incredibly proud of you," Poe continued, his eyes looking around to ensure privacy before brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. "Always."

“Maker, I must be exhausted.” You chuckle as you justify your emotions, sniffing and wiping away your tears. “And I missed you, so damn much, which is probably why I’m getting so emotional.”

“I missed you too.” Poe joins your laughter and hugs you close to his chest, rocking you side to side softly. In the middle of his tight embrace, you can hear him whispering one more “I’m proud of you” against the top of your head where he seals the words with a lingering press of his lips.

Reluctantly, you pulled apart, but your hands lingered, promising a reunion after your mission debrief with the General. At that moment, you both knew that the sweetest reward awaited in each other's arms.

🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨🚀✨

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[tonowarii]

can i request the beloved catboy quaritch purring ITS NOT A WANT ITS A NEED MMMM

COMPLETELY okay if u dont have motivation, or if u just dont wanna do it!! Write whatever you feel like writing love ♡

kisses 😚

im just keeping this short and simple bc i need to experiment on writing quaritch 👹 also wrote this w a human reader in mind sooo

gif is not mine, credits to the owner!

Quaritch relished in moments like these where he finally gets to spend time with you. Needless to say, since getting his avatar body, he never felt better, faster, and even playful. But god forbid the lessons he had to go through in getting used to this. But yada yada, all this, all that- it finally paid off as he now gets to spend more time with you.

However this one particular morning, he was enjoying having you huddled on top of him, one of his arm wrapped around you so you don't fall.

It was like that when suddenly he was staring at you, seconds after you've just given him a decent uppercut with your head as you looked at him with wide eyes, as if you saw a ghost. It looked like you've just got shaken up by one hell of a nightmare.

"The hell was that for?" He grumbles in his old grumpy manner with a 'What the fuck?' look at you, his usual scowl returning.

But this discovery had your mouth wide and a mischevious glint in your eyes as you gestured all over in excitement.

"What? You forgot to speak?" He snarkily replied.

Quaritch watched as you lay your head on his chest a few times, making sure you weren't hearing things.

Then he hears your laugh, he was starting to get annoyed at this point, with his chin slightly aching and with you looking like a crazed scientist.

"I can't believe- oh this is great." You finally speak, looking up at him with one of your smiles that had Miles' features softening.

"What's so great? Me?" He chuckles. Although nothing could prepare him for what you said.

"I didn’t know you guys could purr!"

Pause.

Miles' expression drops, blinking. "Huh?"

"You're purring!! I can't - oh this is amazing." You laugh, leaning your head against his chest to hear the low rumble emitting from it, giving you a warm and comfy feeling.

Miles' huge hand raises to carefully pry you off his chest and not to accidentally flung you across the room.

"Come again?" He asked.

"You don't know? I mean can't you feel it? Or is it like a - what do you call that again-" You look up in thought as he simply stared at you with a puzzled expression. You give up on trying to search for the word, turning your attention back on the avatar in front of you, whose tail was flicking in curiosity behind him, ears flicking.

"Okay, do you... Feel anything?" You ask.

Miles simply shakes his head no. You roll your eyes. "Come on, cooperate with me Miles." The way his name rolls off your tongue had him complying.

He takes a moment to feel what he was feeling. He felt happy, content even— but he wouldn't admit that. Still, he then registers the low rumbling coming from deep in his chest. It was roaring- like an engine if you will.

His brows furrowed, is that what it was?

He thought you wouldn't be able to hear that... Has he been doing that for a while? That's weird, he only notices it when he's with you but he rarely pays attention to it. So that's what got you acting like a crazed scientist.

Miles looks at you, and he swore the roaring in his chest got louder. He didn’t even knew the makers programmed them to be able to do that.

"So you are just a big cat after all." You teased as you watched his face contort into realization.

"No I ain't, pumpkin." He was not going to accept this.

"Just accept it Miles," smirking playfully at him. "I wonder... If the other recoms know that their commander's just a big huggable cat that purrs." You teased.

"Stop it." He glares at you.

"Would you look at that I'm on my way down to inform the others."

You sing-song, about to jump off the big bed when you're suddenly hoisted back up on the bed on your back, with Quaritch's intense gaze meeting your eyes as his huge body hovered above you.

The act sent your heart thumping, Miles definitely picked up on that as he chuckles followed by a smirk at your sudden silence.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue, pumpkin?"

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Corner Booth

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLIY)

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Tags: Sex worker/stripper/exotic dancer reader, inexperienced Din comes with his own warning, lap dance, flirting

Summary: Din gets more than he bargained for going to a strip joint for intel.

Author’s Note: I’ve been in a writing rut for awhile now and when I asked the lovely @acrossthesestars for a starter prompt for some context-less smut, she suggested “lap dance” and “immobilization”. That screamed Din to me so I happily settled in to write some filth.

…. And, naturally, turned it to tooth-rotting fluff almost immediately. Enjoy. 😘

“Normally this is where I’d ask if you come here often but, uh, I think I’d remember if you had.”

You offer him your brightest, most professional smile but the black void of his visor gives away nothing. It devours instead, pulling your gaze down into its depths even as the shining Beskar surrounding it reflects the candy-colored neon lights of the club.

“Not much of a talker are you, handsome?” You roll your hips again, savoring the blissful contradiction of cold steel beneath your bare thighs and the warm rasp of duraweave against your flimsy “uniform.”

This may be a job, but that doesn’t stop you enjoying it.

Your only answer is a grunt. Well, that, and a stirring heat between your bodies. Interesting. Twining your arms around the back of his helmet, and noting the way the Mandalorian’s body tenses for a moment when you do, you can’t help wondering what else this nearly silent customer enjoys.

“Not that I mind,” you purr, leaning in closer, your barely-covered breasts pressed against his armor. Your nipples pebble instantly at the chill sensation.Eager for warmth, you slip your arms beneath the edge of bounty hunter‘s cowl. The man radiates heat, making you relax against him further.

“Most people who come in here are *all* talk,” you continue, your hips moving in sinuous rhythms in time with the music. “Those are the ones who never seem to listen, too.” You jerk your chin towards the grabby Trandoshan who’d cornered you before the broad-shouldered bounty Mandalorian strode into the club, all cold steel and heavy tread. The other pleasure-seekers had taken one look at him and decided their drinks and their dates were far, far more interesting than the bounty hunter suddenly in their midst.

The man in question follows your gaze now, his own hands tightening almost possessively at your hips when he locks eyes with the Trandoshan across the bar, before releasing you with a quiet “Sorry.”

Intrigued, you replace his hands, running your own playfully over the well-worn leather. Even these are warm beneath your hand. It’s enough to make you wish you could sneak a peek beneath that visor, to see if he’s as overheated as he feels. It’s almost… sweet.

“You’re fine,” you assure him, trying once again to find his eyes beneath that flat black. “I chatter enough for two anyway, or so I’ve been told.”

You’re rewarded with a low, amused huff.

“I like it,” he admits, almost shyly.

A genuine smile tugs at your lips this time. Maker, who is this guy, and what is he doing in this dive?

The music changes, turns faster, more insistent, driving such ridiculous questions out of your mind. No good can come of them anyway, you remind yourself. You’ve sworn off dating clients completely. Too… messy. Too complicated. Better to do the job, get paid, and continue on your way.

Shaking out your hair, you resume the lap dance he’d paid for, trying not to think of the uncertain way he’d handed you the credits, or the way his fingers tightened around yours when you’d held out your hand to lead him to your favorite booth. It’s tucked away in the darkest corner of a club full of dark corners, the only one with anything close to privacy.

The only one with a window to the stars beyond.

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilts to the side when the silence stretches between you, though you can tell from the restless movement of his hips and the ragged cast to his voice that he’s appreciating your efforts.

“D-don’t stop,” he says, the words so strained you nearly lose them between the driving pulse of the music. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was right on the edge. But he’s no boyish virgin - there’s no way he’d be this desperate for you.

“Oh, don’t worry baby, you gave me enough for a long dance.”

“Not that,” he groans. “Don’t stop… talking.”

You’re so taken aback that you stop grinding against the growing bulge beneath you. You blink, eyebrows raised, caught between surprise and delight.

The Mandalorian stills beneath you, only the rapid rise and fall of his chest belying the sense of patient focus. You get the sense that he could sit this way for hours, waiting for his quarry. It must make him a fearsome hunter. And maybe, just maybe, the kind of man worth breaking a rule for.

“Mando,” you smile down at him. “If you really want to hear me talk, you should come back at closing time.”

[hyperactively-me]

on the run

“Ah, it's fine, I’ll just need some bacta patches and it’ll be fine. Besides, it's just a bruise” you say quietly, your face flushing. “I’m going to kill him” Din rasped, taking your hands in a movement to pull you to standing. 

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: canon typical violence

You were uneasy about this job from when it was first proposed. You felt a pit in the depths of your stomach that signaled that something did not feel right. Although you understood why Din was so eager about accepting the job. He wanted more credits to upgrade parts of his ship and armor. You tried everything you could to push these feelings of doubt away but to no avail. Approaching Din about the job only turned into a heated argument about how it was necessary to ensure a few weeks worth of credits. 

Things got a little dicey. Okay, more than a little dicey. You were currently fending for yourself against two cronies employed by a prominent spice lord on Nar Shaddaa. Nar Shaddaa, of all places. Din could have picked any other planet, but no, there’s too many commissions on Nar Shaddaa to turn this down, besides, with this mission, I could earn a lot of credits. I’ll be fine, I’ve probably encountered worse before. 

Nar Shaddaa is a cosmopolitan planet practically owned by the Hutts, crime and lawlessness was bursting from every sidewalk, market, and building. An overabundance of illegal activity permeated the streets, every nook and cranny of the metropolitan planet corrupt. 

Din took on a job hunting down the leader of a high profile crime ring in the heart of the city. He took on the assignment knowing the risks and dangers, but, who was Din if he ever turned down an opportunity like this? An opportunity to return to the company after taking down a criminal that no one else could take down. Coming back to the guild and earning an even higher degree of respect? Oh, he said it was just too good to turn down, we’ll be fine, I can handle it. You decided to help him on his mission because the more muscle he had, the higher his chances of success were.

So of course, he managed to infiltrate the ring and blow it up from the inside out, creating pandemonium in the streets.

In the midst of the chaos that arose from the raid, you both managed to get separated, desperately fighting for each of your survival, focused on coming out alive. 

So here we are now, you’re shaken to your core as you play a lethal game of tag. Your heart threatens to beat out of its chest as you snap your head backwards only to see how hot on your tail the two bounty hunters were to you.

You touch your earpiece connecting you to Din and cry out “Din! I’m being tailed by two guys, where the kriff are you?”

A tall and burly Trandoshan was gaining on you whilst an orange-skinned Twi’lek dodged the crowded street. Deep and heavy breaths escape your dry throat as you focus all your brain power on formulating a plan and escaping without getting yourself killed, or worse, taken.  

“Din, I don’t know if you can hear me, but so help me Maker, I need a little assistance right now so it would be wonderful if you showed up.” You tried to make yourself sound angry and demanding, but in truth, you were scared for your life. 

Continuously dodging innocent bystanders and merchant stands take a toll on your stamina, slowing you down as you concentrate on where your feet are landing. The ringing noise of blaster shots rang out from behind you, causing you to duck your head in an attempt to protect yourself, just for precaution. You start heaving, trying to gulp air into your lungs like it's the last thing you can do to save yourself from collapsing from exhaustion. You look back once more and let out a loud yelp as the Trandoshan’s grubby hands were barely grazing the back of your shirt. You felt your blood run cold and your heart stopped beating for a split second, the adrenaline pumping through you fading. 

It was too late before you realized you lost sight of the Twi’lek when an orange blur came hurtling into your side, effectively ending the pursuit and toppling you over onto the uneven stones. 

Your vision goes hazy and you realize you can’t breathe. Your breaths are shallow and labored and your eyes struggle to focus. 

No no no please no I can’t stop now you panic, trying to set your brain straight after the impact.

A haze of orange and a mass of an alien face clouds your vision before you feel rough hands yanking your arms up in an attempt to set you up straight. Your head lurches forward and you screw your eyes shut in an attempt to focus your vision. The Trandoshan is manhandling you, and as a final attempt to break free, you resort to a classic self-defense trick. You knee him right in the groin.

He drops your arms quickly and doubles over, groaning in pain, and before he can stop you, you take off running. Or at least you think you’re running. Your head is pounding and your vision is streaked with black dots. You only get so far before the Twi’lek tackles you again, this time effectively taking you down. 

Everything is too much, the scene around you is too much. Everything hurts. Everything is too bright, too loud, too rough. The Twi’lek lets out a cruel snicker and slaps binders on your wrists before dragging you standing upwards. You falter, not capable of standing on your feet after the two collisions by two men who are much larger in stature than you. 

“Well well, you thought you could do that and just get away with it?” the Trandoshan sneers as he stalks over to you and the Twi’lek. As your vision begins to clear, you take note of the large, shiny knife in his possession. Your face pales a bit as you look up at the angry Trandoshan’s face. 

He raises his hand, and without hesitation, slaps you straight across the face. You falter from the contact as the Twi’lek catches you before you crumple over completely. He laughs maniacally before throwing your body over his shoulder. Tears flood your vision, your face stinging like a million wasps stung your face. 

Well that’s gonna leave a lovely mark. You winced at the thought of Din seeing the hand print on your face, not because you were scared of him, but because you were scared for the well-being of the Trandoshan. 

Your world bobs up and down as your two captors navigate back to their base. You catch bits of the mens’ conversation, trying your best to piece together any useful information you could. You send out a silent prayer that Din is alright, and that he’ll show up and you’ll both be fine, because right now, you were panicking. Usually you both had each other's backs in strenuous situations like this, and more often than not, you were both able to withstand more hits and blows. But being carried back to a now dead crime lord’s haven led by Maker knows who was a new low for you. 

You start to thrash in your captor’s grip, smacking your bound wrists against his stiff back with all your might. 

“What the- hey, cut that out” he grumbles, not amused with your poor attempts to stop him. 

“Kriff you” you bite out angrily, upset that you’re now their hostage, upset that you weren’t capable enough of defending yourself in this situation, and torn over the fact that you haven’t heard anything from Din in a while. You hadn’t heard anything from him in a while…

Maybe he was captured? you thought. Yeah, a guy like Din, a man notorious for his elusiveness and strategic logic is definitely captured right now. But he wouldn’t leave me, right? Right? Unless…he probably did leave you, like how everyone else you cared about in the past did. Maker, I really thought we had something. You hold back a sob as it builds up in your throat. You had hope that Din saw you as something more, after everything you’ve been through. Or maybe he was captured. Or even worse…don't even think about that. 

The side of your cheek where you were slapped begins to throb, swelling from the harsh impact of the greasy slimeball’s burly hand. A bruise was bound to erupt from the site of damage. 

All of a sudden you hear the Trandoshan scream out, followed by a crunch and a thud. The Twi’lek becomes rigid, fingernails digging harshly into the back of your knees as he slowly backs away from whatever or whoever attacked the Trandoshan. You tense under his grip, unaware of what is presenting the danger, and you begin to squirm under his grip. 

Next thing you know, the Twi’lek body slams you onto the cold ground, knocking the wind out of your lungs, leaving you dizzy and disoriented from the sudden aggression. He digs his steel-toed boot deep into your chest, pressing against your abdomen with enough force to cause potential bruising. You glance upward at the Twi’lek hovering over you and a glint of metal catches your eye. He has a blaster pointed right at your chest. Your breath catches in your throat and your mouth dries. 

“I suggest you don’t take another step towards me, otherwise I’ll shoot her” the Twi’lek calls out to the mystery person in front of you. 

Your heart halts in your chest, breath slows as you realize the gravity of the situation. You were practically helpless, incapable of making any move without potentially ending your life. You still under his boot, attempting to assess the situation. 

The air around you stills, a chill runs up your spine. 

“I think you’ve got someone that doesn’t belong to you. If you return her to me unharmed, I might just let you live” a gravelly and husky voice calls out lazily. That voice. Din’s voice. 

He came you practically cried out of desperation and relief. You strain your neck backwards to look at him. As soon as you make eye contact with his visor you flash him a weak smile to let him know that you’re relieved and glad to see him.

His form relaxes slightly as you hope you make eye contact with him through the dark visor of his helmet. Something seems to flash over his demeanor, but the moment is gone within a second. He turns back to the Twi’lek, who still has the blaster trained at your chest.

“Oh, you might just let me live. How wonderful. But I’m afraid I can’t let that happen, so either let me get through or the girl dies” the Twi’lek shouts out as he shoves the blaster closer to your chest. 

“Alright, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you” Din calls out quickly before whipping out his own blaster. Before the Twi’lek can even register what’s happening, Din shoots the man straight in the chest. 

The Twi’lek crumples, folding in on himself before falling over onto his side, lifeless. You scramble on the stones, pushing yourself away from the body as fast as you can while still restrained.

You hear Din call out your name as he rushes to your side, dropping to his knees without hesitation.

“Are you hurt?” his hands roam up and down your body, assessing it for any damage before sighing with relief that there were no broken bones or blood. 

You let your head rest on the ground, taking gulps of air as your anxiety lessened. 

“I- I guess I’m fine. Just shaken up a bit” you croak out, pulling at the metal cuffs rubbing away at the skin around your wrists.

He gently grabs hold of your wrists, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the cuffs. 

“Give me a sec” he says distractedly, rummaging through his utility belt for a tool that could free you from your confinements. A moment goes by before he whips out a lock-picker of some sort. He slots the gadget into the small keyhole on your cuffs, jiggling it around before a small click rang through the air. The cuffs dropped to the ground and you let out a hiss at the raw skin. 

“Thanks” you whisper before gently sitting up, grimacing as you go.

“Your face…” Din points out, his voice hushed and severe. “What did they do to you?” He sounds ready to pounce, prepared to tear apart anyone who hurt you. 

His hand reaches up to touch the mark that’s now flourishing into a bruise on your cheek, and you wince as he applies a slight pressure to the mark. 

“Ah, it's fine, I’ll just need some bacta patches and it’ll be fine. Besides, it's just a bruise” you say  quietly, your face flushing.

“I’m going to kill him” Din rasped, taking your hands in a movement to pull you to standing. 

“I think you already did…” you grimace as you look over to the Trandoshan laying face down lifeless on the ground.

“Oh…less work for me then” he huffed out. 

You slightly falter when he pulls you completely up, head still spinning from the hits you took while trying to fight them off. Din catches you with a quick inhale, wrapping his strong arms around your back and under your arm to support you as you both walk back to the ship. 

As you continue to walk in silence, you can almost feel the anger rolling off Din, his helmet set straight ahead. 

As your adrenaline wears off from the scuffle, you remember how you even got in this situation to begin with: Din was nowhere to be found and unresponsive.

“Din, where the kriff were you? I needed you back there” you implored, your mind was racing and hot tears began to prick the corners of your eyes.

“I was-” he starts quietly before you relentlessly cut him off.

“Where? I really needed you back there, I was so scared and I thought you died! What happened?” you cry out, a wave of emotion crashing down on you. You try to pull yourself away from his grip, slightly thrashing in his arms. 

“Stop, you’re only going to worsen your injuries” he says slowly, eyes looking everywhere but yours. 

“No, I thought you left me. I really thought you felt nothing between us, thought you were using me for your own benefit! Don’t you understand?” you successfully free yourself from his stronghold on you and you begin hitting his chest with your hands fisted. 

Din stares you down, unmoving from his position. He sighs as he grabs hold of your fists, pulling them away and holding them to stop your attacks.

“Listen, I did what I had to do back there. If I hadn’t diverged from where you were going, neither of us would be alive” his jaw ticked as he seethed. 

You stopped and gazed up into the darkness of his visor, the strong grip he had on your fists loosen until he dropped them completely.

“Okay…but don’t pull stupid stunts like that without telling me first. I really thought you left me” a watery voice replaces your anger like whiplash.

Din relaxes, and pulls you tight against his chest in a reassuring hug.

“I would never leave you. Ever. I have a responsibility to protect you, and I didn’t fulfill that responsibility. I’m sorry” he reassured, arms tightening around your torso. 

Your arms wrap around his own torso, and you turn your un-bruised cheek against his chest, eyes overflowing with tears. 

His right hand comes up to rest in your hair, pressing his chest more firmly into it.

“You swear?” you question through a sniffle.

“I promise.”

[corrieguards]

Hiya! I loved your Toast fic, that was so cute! I love your writing and I was wondering if I could ask for a fic based on the fluff prompt #7 “You did all this… for me?” with Rex? Maybe reader does something nice for Rex because he deserves it 💙 I don’t want to be a bother, though!

A/N: Hey beautiful!! Thank you sm for this request, it's never a bother to write for my bby Rex💙

I am so sorry for the delay, this fic has consumed me and I've been nit-picking at it for weeks. I'm still not entirely happy with the result, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer!

P.S: Here's a link to Toast my echo x reader fic mentioned above, in case you wanna check it out <3

Cold Nights and Pretty Lights

Captain Rex x reader Summary: Finally back on Coruscant, Rex makes his way to your place, intent on spending the night there with you. Little does he know, you have other better plans for him. Word Count: 2k C/W: fluff, fluff and more fluff Prompt: "You did all this... for me?" prompt list my masterlist

The jolt of the LA-AT landing on solid ground almost brings tears of relief to Rex’s eyes.

Kriffing finally.

He was supposed to have been back on Coruscant weeks ago, but this particular mission had dragged on and on endlessly. When he found out they were finally coming home, the very first thing he did was send you a hurried comm to let you know. And now that he was planet-side, all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and never let go again.

He stumbled out of the ship, his boot catching on the ledge in his haste to get out. A muffled chuckle behind him made him straighten up, sending a glare over his shoulder.

"In a hurry, Captain?" Jesse teased, stepping out of the gunship pointedly gracefully. Rex raised an eyebrow in warning, turning to face him fully and getting ready to defend himself, but Jesse beats him to it, holding a hand up to stop him.

"Just tell her I said hi, will you?"

Rex flushes, opening his mouth to reply but deciding it's not worth it, settling on just shaking his head fondly instead, a look of mock annoyance on his face to cover up the blush.

"Keep yourself out of trouble, trooper," he says over his shoulder as a cab pulls up on the curb, "and try not to get picked up by the Corries again"

Jesse puts on a shit-eating grin, sending him a salute and a cheeky wink. "No promises, Captain."

---

When the cab pulls up next to your house, Rex is surprised to see you already waiting outside, leaning against the wall with a soft smile.

The sight of you automatically brings a smile to his own face. He tosses a couple credits to the driver, eyes still glued on you as he scrambles out the cab.

Your smile widens as he jogs over, pushing off the wall as soon as he’s close enough and laughter bubbling as he wraps his arms around you.

You return the hug, squealing in surprise when he picks you up, twirling you around a couple times before finally setting your feet back down on the floor.

"Maker, you have no idea how much I missed you," he whispers, his hands falling to rest on your hips.

You giggle in response, balancing on the tips of your toes and reaching up to peck his lips, pulling back far too quickly for his liking.

“Missed you more, Captain."

You give him a cheeky smile before wriggling out of his hold. He frowns, going to reach for you again, but you're already walking over towards your speeder.

"Are you… going somewhere?"

"Yep," you chirp happily, clambering into the seat. "And so are you."

He raises his eyebrows at you, smiling slowly. "Oh really?"

You turn the speeder on, and a low hum fills the air. "Yeah, really," you wink, jerkin' your head back to the seat behind you. "Hop on trooper."

He chuckles, shaking his head at you but climbs on behind you anyway.

His arms loop around your waist when you pull away from the curb, gripping tightly as you weave in and out of the Coruscant lanes with practised ease. You feel his breath on your neck as he rests his chin on your shoulder, smiling when you feel him press a kiss to your cheek.

---

The traffic is a distant hum in the background when you pull up next to the roof of one of the construction buildings on the outskirts of the bustling city.

Here, the neon lights are dimmer but still bright enough to be able to see each other clearly, the light of the moon mixing with the bright colours to bathe you both in soft light.

You clamber off onto the roof, offering a hand to Rex with a cheeky smile. He lifts a brow at you.

"Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?"

You merely shrug, moving your hand closer and he chuckles in response, grasping your hand anyway and stepping down beside you. He makes a quick glance around the building, taking it in.

It’s not entirely finished, with scaffolding still standing in a couple of places and railing missing from the edges of the roof.

"Is this legal?"

"Probably not," you shrug, tilting your head and smiling teasingly. "Why? You're going to back out on me, Captain?"

"And miss out on being here with you?" He grins, pulling you in by the waist and nuzzling his nose to yours. "Not a chance, meshla."

Giggling, you let him hold you a few seconds more before pulling back again, leaning over to grab your bag for the speeder. You go to sling it over your shoulder, but he stops you, grabbing the strap and swinging it over his shoulder instead.

You send him a grateful smile, followed by a peck on the cheek, before grabbing his hand and leading him around the corner.

He stumbles behind you, trying to keep from stepping on your heels as you drag him behind you excitedly. He collides softly with your back when you stop abruptly, his free hand moving to your shoulder to steady himself.

You move to the side, still holding his hand and eagerly watching his face as he takes in the view in front of him. His mouth parts in surprise, his hand loosening its hold on yours.

You’ve chosen a small corner of the roof with a ledge that overlooks the city, far enough away from everything that it’s private and secluded. There’s a small blanket set up on the floor, a couple cushions sitting on it with a big fluffy blanket folded up beside them.

He watches as you walk over to the scaffolding behind, hands disappearing as you reach around it, a quiet click echoing before a handful of tiny lights you’ve strung on the frame come to life, bathing the little corner in a soft warm glow.

"So, what’d you think?"

You turn to look at him expectantly, and it’s in that moment - your eyes shinning and skin bathed in the soft twinkle of the fairy lights - that he’s struck with the sudden realisation of just how stunningly beautiful you are.

He stares at you, faintly aware of you waiting for him to answer but not quite managing to formulate a response, his thoughts too busy with just how utterly smitten he is for you.

His lack of reaction makes you doubt yourself, with your feet shifting nervously.

"We can just go back home if you prefer. That’s fine too.

He blinks a couple times, quickly coming to his senses and shaking his head "No, of course not. I- It just surprised me, that’s all."

"Oh. Are you sure? I mean I know it's not much but-"

He chuckles, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks, stopping your nervous ramblings.

"It’s perfect meshla. I love it."

You smile shyly, avoiding his gaze as a blush spreads on your cheeks. "I just... well, I know you’ve been working really hard lately, and the last mission was a real kicker, and l- I just thought you would like this..."

You trail off, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. He’s looking down at you like you’re the most amazing thing in the whole kriffing galaxy.

"You did all this... for me?"

"Of course," you reply immediately, like it was an obvious fact. "Why wouldn’t I?"

He’s still staring at you with the same look on his face, his head shaking slightly in disbelief and a smile slowly spreading on his face. You’re about to ask him what's wrong when he loops his fingers in your belt, yanking you closer and leaning down until your foreheads bonk together gently.

"I love you so damn much, y’know that?" He whispers against your lips, his hands galling to your waist and squeezing. You giggle, arms coming up to loop around his neck before muttering a smug reply.

"Yeah, I know."

He rolls his eyes playfully, pinching your waist in retaliation and making you jump.

"Wow, I confess my undying love for you, and that’s all you’ve got? 'Yeah I know.'" He pitches his voice higher on the last couple words in an attempt to imitate your voice.

You scoff in mock offense, slapping his chest. "That is not what I sound like. Besides, you already know I love you, Rex."

He hums, smiling cheekily and winking.

"Yeah, but it's still nice to hear you say it."

You return the smile, rolling your eyes playfully before stepping up on your toes and bracing your hands on his chest to keep balance. Leaning up to kiss his cheek, you start to speak between kisses

"I" you move to the other cheek, pressing a kiss there too.

"am utterly" a kiss to his forehead.

"and completely" a gentle peck his nose, before you're moving to his lips, whispering the last words against them

"In love with you."

You close the gap, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. You feel him smiling against your lips as he kisses you back, his fingers threading through your hair and cradling the nape of your neck.

When he pulls back, you’re met with his eyes fixed on yours, crinkled at the edges and so full of undeniable love that it almost makes you blush.

"Now that was more like it."

You groan, rolling your eyes fondly, and push a hand to his chest. He chuckles, catching your wrist and pulling you in for a tight hug.

You soak up the closeness for a little longer, your face pressed up against his chest so tight that you can feel his heart beat on your cheek. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, playfully tapping his fingers against your butt to get your attention.

"C'mon, let's sit down before it gets too cold."

Reluctantly, you pull away, keeping your hand in his as he drags you over to the blanket. He sits on the edge, feet dangling off and thighs spread wide. He looks up at you, patting the space between his legs and pulling you toward him.

Smiling fondly, you let him pull you down, settling between his thighs and resting your back on his chest. He loops his arms around your stomach, pulling you in closer and pressing a kiss to your temple.

You twist slightly, making grabby-hands for your bag that's been left discarded to the side. Rex chuckles, leaning over and stretching his hand far enough to curl them around the strap and pull it closer

As soon as it's within your reach, you stick your hand inside it, the sound of glass clinking echoing as you pull out a bottle of booze. You push it into his chest, smile bright enough to rival the neon lights.

“For you”

He holds it up so the lights you strung up behind shine on it, illuminating the writing as he squints his eyes, reading the label. A grin spreads on his face when he realises what it is.

“Correllian Whiskey?”

You nod enthusiastically, winking at him “Your favourite”

His chest rumbles against your hand, a hearty chuckle bubbling out of him. He places a tender kiss on your forehead whispering a thank you against your skin.

Cracking the bottle open, he takes a generous swig of the amber liquid before silently handing it to you. You accept it gratefully, sipping and cringing at the burn as it goes down your throat.

Setting the bottle down with a soft clang you snuggle back into his strong chest, sighing contentedly and tangling your fingers with his, squeezing tightly.

You shiver slighly and before you know it, he's unfolding the blanket, throwing it over his shoulders and bring it around to wrap around you too.

"Better?"

"Much better" you smile, pecking his lips "thank you"

Toothy grin spreading on his face, he tucks the blanket around you tighter, pressing a wet kiss to the side of your neck and making you giggle.

A comfortable silence fills the night air, just the hum of traffic and the sound of sound of your synchronized breathing.

You nod towards the view of the city, eyes following the colourful light of the endless stream of speeders zooming by. Even this time of night, the city was full of life, ever bustling with activity.

"It’s pretty, isn’t it?"

Rex hums distracted, pressing a kiss to your cheek and you smile, rolling your eyes.

"You’re not even looking, are you?”

You feel him shrug against your back, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles and smile evident in his voice as he whispers into your neck

"Something far prettier s’got all my attention right now."

---

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[imagine--if]

E. Nashton

A/N: Here you go, I promised, I hope you like it 😅💚 I think I'll do a part two of him confessing later, maybe disguising himself as The Riddler cus he's still a little shy 🥺️

Words: 1069

Everyone at work is the same. Quite loud and obnoxious, money-makers, party-goers, busy professionals. As professional as you can get in a city like Gotham, anyway. You just wanted to make enough money to have as easy a life as you could bargain for in this place, or maybe save up to move somewhere else. For now, though, you're stuck in the same office building, checking over the same papers sent up by the forensics accountants team downstairs.

But there's one employee down there who's just as quiet and polite as you try to be. You probably wouldn't have noticed him, just like his peers, if it wasn't for seeing his name signed in a rather odd style of handwriting at the top of a folder of pages full of numbers.

"Might be something to do with money laundering, I reckon," Zach tells you with a proud smirk, the man who sends the files up. "It's a good job we caught it, right?"

"Yeah, it's really good," you respond with a grateful smile, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. Your thumb stops under a top corner, and you study it, noticing the name. E. Nashton.

"And... this is your work?" you ask him with a slightly raised brow, Zach shrugging in answer.

"Well. No. The, uh, one of the guys did some of it, but I brought it to the team's attention and all. Obviously."

"Yeah, nice work, Zach," you agree, which does the trick, and he leaves smugly, going back downstairs and saying something to a man who seems startled when Zach thumps him a couple of times on the shoulder, in a friendly sort of way. You watch in interest, wondering if it's the E. Nashton written on these papers. Clear-framed glasses are pushed up the man's nose, and curious green eyes peer from behind them, delicate strands of sandy brown hair framing his round face. The face that looks defeated and mildly frustrated by the time Zach's left.

You frown to yourself, glancing at the work that's ordered perfectly and ready to send to your boss. No one else here puts the same level of effort into their work. Zach's probably told the poor guy that he's gotten all the credit. Maybe you could talk to him? It's just a word of encouragement from a colleague, right?

As everyone finishes their projects at the end of the day, you grab your things and head downstairs, weaving your way between people pushing at doors to get home. You only just catch the man you'd seen earlier, tapping him gingerly on the shoulder. But even that seems to surprise him, and he flinches, whirling round to face you with a wide-eyed expression. His cheeks flush when his eyes take you in properly, but you don't notice, apologising awkwardly.

"Hi- oh, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright," he breathes, scarcely blinking, and you nod slowly at the reaction.

"Um, okay, well, I just wanted to thank you for the work that went up. It was all written really clearly, and I don't think I'll have to do much before it's sent off. It's nice to see someone putting more than the bare minimum in what they do, I guess. Kind of makes my job a bit easier, too."

Edward looks at the folder in your hands, then back up at you.

"I thought... Zach said-"

"Yeah, I know he sent it up and commissioned the work, that's... great," you say, not bothering to hide the slight tone of sarcasm, and a fond smile tugs at Edward's lips in response. "But you did it. So, thanks."

"W-well... you're most welcome," Edward says happily, almost giddily, and you smile back in amusement.

"Cool. It was nice talking to you. Edward?"

He nods quickly. "Yes, I- I'm Edward."

You reply with your name and a half-smile, Edward repeating it like it's something fascinating. You observe him for a moment; a little odd, but kind of sweet. You should have spoken to him sooner.

"See you around, then."

He seems somewhat disappointed as you take a step back, your hand lingering on the doorhandle that leads outside, but says goodbye anyway with a small smile and a watchful stare. You look away first, going off in the direction of your home, the interaction replaying in your head vaguely as you let yourself into your apartment.

Nice guy. There aren't many people like that in Gotham. Maybe you could chat again soon?

And then the thought's replaced with the next thing that nags for your attention.

...

Meanwhile, a man goes mad behind his laptop.

Square pictures are pulled up onto the screen from various social media sites, and Ed can't help but smile back at your naturally happy expressions in every one. It seemed so easy for everyone to be so happy and carefree. He wasn't everyone.

But then, neither were you.

Someone noticed him. No one ever notices him. And his boss was so quick to dismiss the scheme he had bought up, practically threatening his job for poking his nose in. Zach just likes every bit of praise he can get, and he gets far too much of it. But not this time. For once, somebody praised him. You praised him.

"You're so lovely," he whispers adoringly into the solitude of his apartment, the blue-white glare of the laptop reflecting in his glasses.

A part of Edward finds himself such a creep, so disgusting and wrong and alone, especially for stalking a pretty young workmate he'd only met half an hour ago. But no one ever spoke to him unless they had to. You didn't have to. But there you were, bright eyes and sweet words, appreciating justice as much as he does, and not letting the darker cases go like any corrupt citizen would.

He'd keep watching. He'd give it, what, a week or two? Just to be sure he wasn't mistaken, though he was almost certain he wasn't. That you really were some sort of beacon that stood out to him, company he liked at work, could fantasize clearly about at home. And then...

Then what? Blurt it out to you? Scare you off? No. Too risky. He could almost hear the pity and confusion in your voice with a rejection. E. Nashton was nearly as confident and important as he wanted to be...

...but The Riddler was.

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[cloneloverrrrr]

Hi, I was the one who requested the smut prompt with Hunter. Sorry, I just saw all your posts… I was inactive today.

Can the reader be female? If you’ve already picked out something else, then that’s ok too. Have a pleasant day :)

Hiiii my lovely!

I hope I have captured Hunter in the correct way as I’ve not wrote him before. I was going to write more but I’m still not feeling too good and my brain is rot rn😭

But anyway I hope you enjoy this Hunter smut💁🏻‍♀️🫠🥵

Dividers by my best one @idontgetanysleep 🖤

𝗜𝗳 𝗜 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗧𝗼 𝗣𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿- 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁

𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:🔞 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁��𝗿 𝘅 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1313

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁, 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗙 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 , 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗣 𝗶𝗻 𝗩 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘆𝘆𝘆𝘆

The smooth sounds from the Marauders engines hum vibrating in your chest, the streaky distortion from the centralized bright glow shine in your eyes as you and Hunter travel through Hyper Space.

You secretly thank the maker Cid had introduced you all those months ago back at her Parlour, however it’s made things that more tricky. Your feelings for Hunter grew more as each day passed, the worry that weighed heavy on your shoulders, the painful ache in your heart wondering if he would return back from these missions was starting to take its toll. Yet you don’t dare admit to these feelings.

“Credits for your thoughts mesh’la?” His rich voice snapped you out of it and back to reality.

His focus on you is utterly mesmerising, his brown locks fall against his signature bandana, one brow raised awaiting your reply. His heightened senses very aware of the other feeling niggling away within you.

Lust.

“I uh sorry Sergeant nothing. Not long till we are due back I take it?” You stutter out shuffling in your seat. The tingle in your core growing.

“We have enough time mesh’la” his voice low, dark.

His eyes meet with yours, the unrestrained desire lingering has your mocha skin blushing the colour of your devil red lips.

Hunter gestures you over to him, unsure of what possessed him, but the urge to have you has overwhelmed him. His mind working overtime so desperate to feel your touch, to inhale your sweet scent. To make you his.

For a brief moment you stand next to him, unsure of your next move , he seizes your arms pulling you down on him with such force your cunt brushes against his codpiece, you chew on your bottom lip a very feeble attempt to stifle your soft moans. You watch as he removes his codpiece placing it to the floor of the ship delicately. The bulge under his blacks evident. Ready to burst out.

Hunter cocks his head to the side slightly letting a small chuckle. Your heart skips a beat. He can hear it loud and so fucking clear. He can see the nerves painted across your pretty face.

“You nervous?”

“Don’t be”

Your face leans in closing the gap between you both. You brush your fingertips gently across the tattoos on his face, a shiver runs through his body and he starts to push up into you. The heat radiates off him igniting the burning between your thighs.

A brazen confidence over takes you and slowly your movements match his. His fingers curl possessively into your hips dragging you up and down his crotch, your nails scrape at this scalp pulling his hair.

“Tell me mesh’la is this what you want?” He whispers into your neck as his tongue trails upto your pulse point.

Your whimpers are his yes. You move and position yourself with your back to him. Leaning your head back so you watch his reaction as you begin to unbutton your blouse discarding it to the floor leaving your torso completely bare. You hear him sucking in a deep breath behind you. His senses completely loose touch with any rational thought. The smell of your arousal, the way your skin glistening, the twitching of your cunt against him.

“If I have to pull over, you’ll be walking funny for the next week” you can hear lust lacing each word.

“We are in hyperspace so you can’t technically pull over” you chuckle pressing your ass further into him.

He grabs your thighs pushing you up and rips the clothing from your lower body off with little effort. He pushes you against the control panel spreading your legs. You feel his nose drag up in the inside of your thigh stopping as he reaches your wet pussy.

“Fuck- you smell so good” he rasps and sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of your ass.

You gasp out in surprise gripping at the panel. His thumbs part your slit as he runs a flat wet tongue up and down achingly slow. The heat pools in your lower stomach , goosebumps break out littering your skin. Your hips move in sync with his tongue but you need more. He switches from fucking your cunt with his tongue to curling his fingers inside of you poking that spongy point sending your whole body into a blissful shock.

A deep primal growl left Hunters lips as your slick covered his tongue and lips. Your inner thighs damp from your juices. He devoured you from behind like a famished man. Your cunt fluttered , your clit swelled but you needed more so much more. Hunter understands this wordless demand and he stops. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“You need to be fucked don’t you mesh’la?”

He gives you no time to respond before he fully sheaths inside of you, the stinging pain surges through you ultimately overtaken by the pure pleasure his thick cock provides. A furious pounding begins, he has lost control. The need to fuck you to stretch you to have you surrender to him has commandeered him.

Your breathing intensified, his thrusts harsh, vehement. All of his senses were completely ablaze, he was at the core of you and it was the only thing he needed. He won’t stop he can’t stop , his only focus is your pleasure.

“Oh Hunter- ohh fuck more please “ you beg and pant.

Long harsh strokes of his cock splitting you open his hands grabbing onto your thighs, filthy praises and clammy skin smacking against skin had you teetering on the edge so close to your cunt ready to coat him in your release.

“Look at what you fucking do to me Mesh’la” his raspy groans have that coil inside you threatening to snap.

Hunter continues his relentless pounding , grazing his lips down the back of your neck , a fistful of your hair entangled in his fingers he pulls your head taught so your looking back at him before licking a long stripe back up your spine to your shoulders blades. Shivers tickle your body, your cunt begins to convulse around his quivering cock.

You gaps and moan loudly, your grip so firm on the control panels they could crack any moment. You begin pushing your hips back to meet his trying to control his viscous assault on your swollen pussy.

“Oh fuck Hunter you make me want to reach for the stars” you can barley muster this sentence out as more moans fall from your mouth.

His thrusts become more erratic, you can feel as his body trembles against yours. He pulls you up flush against him and takes your breasts in his large calloused hands, rolling and rubbing your nipples between his rough fingers as his thrusts continue fucking up into you. Your breasts bounce in his hands , his hair falls into your face and you scream his name.

The coil finally snaps. Your body betrays you and you cum violently for him.

A beautiful mist blurs your vision, your eyes roll back in and you lean your head in the crook of his neck, his warm seed coats your walls. A ravishing euphoria washes over you and Hunter alike, your bodies falling limp against each as you continue grinding on his cock milking him for every last drop.

“You’ve been a good girl haven’t you” he breathes into your ear planting open mouth kisses across your neck and jawline.

Hunter sits back down in his seat keeping a firm hold on you, his cock softening inside of you but he is unable to let you go. A spell he does not want to break.

“Made good on that promise didn’t you Sergeant” you chuckle leaning back into him as you both look upon the twinkling lights of Hyper Space.

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