#this is the only one I've found that fits him so far. i wondered if the child loss theme would fit toriel as well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ja3honey · 2 months

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♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧 ♡

【Synopsis】 : The boys were going to teach you a simple game of pool. Nothing more, nothing less... right?

『Word count』 : 3.9k

-> Genre: Smut. Dark Romance. Supernatural.

Pairing: Vampire!WooSanSang x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Flirting. Dirty talk. Slight innocent reader. Foursome. Lowkey free use. Dub-con ish, but the reader is into it. Everything is just new for her. Mxm. Manhandling. Blood drinking, biting. Wounds. Whimper kink? Swearing. Clit play. Yeosang fucks her without really asking but the reader is into it. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms. Pet names including [Doll, Baby, Pet, Sir, Darling. Pretty thing] Use of the word slut. I shit on religion for a second, so I’m sorry if anyone is religious.

Note: Fun fact I found out that pool tables were invented back in 1470, so I felt like I had to add it aha.

Also hi I'm uploaded two fic in one night. I know crazy right?! Well, I've been really wanting to just post all my work. i got in the drafts, but im pacing myself, hehe. So this is just a little ... gift? Idk ahah i just could help, but post two tonight. Enjoy ♡♡

"Oh, my body, I don't wanna stop until the break of dawn"

Masterlist | Nav | Chapter Three | Series List | Buy Me A Ko-fi

When you finally woke, you noticed Seonghwa had left the bed. There was a small note on the bedside table with a little heart next to your name written in black ink. You smiled sleepily, stretching slowly in the spacious bed. You’ve never had a better sleep in years, if not ever. Your small single bed that was tattered and moulding was all you’d ever known, and now you had a bed fit for a king. It was almost strange, bittersweet in a way. You felt like you were always supposed to end up here. With them. Like fate was etched in stone way before you were even of age. You had wondered if they felt the same way, as you made your way through the halls once again. It became quite easy to move around the manor now that you’ve explored a bit. You had slipped on a tunic and pants of various shades of purple and black that were sitting on the end of your bed.

“I see you’ve made yourself quite at home, pet.” You shivered at the sound of Yeosang's velvet voice. Glancing above, you see him leaning on the railing of the mezzanine, a sly smirk on his delicate features.

“She’s like a curious kitty isn’t she.” Another voice caught your attention looking towards the doorway of the billiard room you see a feline feature man. San... His dark hair and sharp yellow glowing eyes make your heart thump in anticipation. Strange? you thought. They were all vampires as far as you knew, so why were his eyes such a deep sunset yellow?

“We got to get that staring problem under control, Darling.” You jumped hearing the high-pitched man, Wooyoung right behind you, whispering in your ear.

“I w-was not staring.” You shake your head, turning around to see all three men now standing around the pool table. San had picked up a pool stick, putting some blue chalk to dab on the end of the said stick. You watched as all three of them took a pool cue and chalked them up, curious at what they might be up to. You had never seen a pool table up close, let alone see anyone play before. You’ve only ever read about it in fancy books or heard it from the richer folk in the village. “A-are you going to play a game?”

Your words sounded flinching like you were some peasant girl asking the higher for a slice of knowledge. But in truth weren’t you just that? “We are most definitely going to be playing a game Darlin’ and you are going to be the price.”

Wooyoung’s words made you gulp, standing there awkwardly playing with the hem of your tunic. San walked over to you while Yeosang set up the balls in the triangle. San’s fingers grazed your chin before lifting your face to look at him. His smile was softer this time, unlike how it was border-lining lust prior. “Don’t worry, Pretty thing. We won’t go too hard on you. Well, Yeosang might, if you’re not too careful.”

You visibly gulp feeling a tingle in your tummy. What could he possibly be insinuating? Your mind was racing, thinking of all the possibilities, slightly thanking Jongho was not here to read your lusting thoughts. You were about to say something, but then Wooyoung came up behind San, pushing him aside so he could give you a pool cue. “I don’t know how to p-play.”

“It’s okay, darling. We will teach you.” Wooyoung’s chippy voice eased your heart slightly. And as you watched Wooyoung start to bicker with Yeosang, who would start the game. You couldn’t help but giggle. For Monsters, they sure act like teenagers. Immature and… youthful.

“Okay okay, Woo, get over here. Let Sangie Break.” The feline yelled over all the bickering. The nicknames he gave the other males made your heart flutter. In the next few minutes, the three vampires took their turn, trying to get a ball in the hole. Until finally, San got a stripe in making Wooyoung whine.

“How do you always manage to score first.” Wooyoung was disappointed about his lover winning, shifting his weight around as he stomped over to the bar that was sitting across a billiard table. He grabbed out four short glasses and began pouring an amber-coloured liquor in each one. You could hear mumbles around you, most likely San and Yeosang badgering about something again, but you couldn’t focus on them. Only looking straight at the shorter male, curiously watching him take a shot of the liquid before taking the other full glass and shotting it.

“Pet did you hear anything we said?” Yeosang's presence behind you caught your attention, noting the way his shoulder bumped into you lightly. You shook your head with a little sorry before taking a breath, suddenly blurting out.

“I didn’t think vampires could eat or drink human food.”

The situation reminded you about how you shared a meal with all of them a night ago. You were so out of it, and floating in your mind, you didn’t really take notice that they were, in fact, consuming food. Cooked cow, vegetables, rich sauces, and wines. It was always written in history books and the words of your church that no hellspawn beasts like night crawlers were able to consume and dine on earthy foods. Only craving and needing the taste of blood to sustain themselves.

San had to try very hard not to laugh at your innocence. Wooyoung had a cheeky smirk on his face, placing the glass on the brim of the pool table, speaking up on your question. “Oh, we do not have to eat or drink to stay alive if that’s what you’re asking. And drinking does nothing for us unless we drink an entire Alehouse. But it does take the edge off for us a little bit.” He downed his drink like he did before, some of the alcohol dripping down his chin. San, within seconds, moved from one end of the table to where Wooyoung stood. His speed created a little wind pocket that blew against your face, making you shiver. San’s hand cupped Wooyoung’s chin, drawing his face upwards. San then opened his mouth, letting his freakishly long tongue slide out onto the younger's neck, licking up the liquor he had spilt.

You gulp, looking away to see Yeosang staring at you intensely with a smirk. He bit his lip before chuckling “God I wished I could read minds. I bet you’re thinking about the filthiest things right now.” He moved to stand in front of you, making you take a step back until you were trapped against the pool table and his broad body. “Such a cute little pet, with such a dirty little mind.”

“W-Wha...I…” You didn’t know what to say cause in truth you couldn’t help but think vulgarly around them. They were all so attractive, and it was like some kind of drug being near them. You looked back to San and Wooyoung, seeing San now had his tongue down the other man's throat, and you couldn’t help but whine. What you didn’t realize was that from looking away from Yeosang, you bared your neck to him, making him growl. “You should never show off your neck to vampires unless you want them to bite you, baby.”

Your eyes widened at his words. But you couldn’t react fast enough. It was like your body became a ragdoll as he moved you with the speed of light. Your back hit the table with a thud, legs spread with Yeosang’s body in between them and his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers squeezed his shoulders as you felt his sharp fangs run along your hot skin. “S-Sangie…”

“Hmm using my nickname is only gonna make me want to fuck you, pet.” his nose brushed down your main vein, letting him breathe in your scent sharply. You were the sweetest thing he had ever smelt.

“Sangie.” You repeated suddenly, reaching tighter for Yeosang’s large shoulders, lacing the fabric of his dress shirt in your fingers. The vampire just chuckled, kissing along your hot skin. You wiggled against him, feeling his crotch twitch beneath the layers of cloth that separated you both. “Please.”

“Ooo, She begs. My favourite.” Yeosang’s fangs grazed your neck, making your heart thump harder. You felt like your whole body was on fire, and every nerve was being consumed with nothing but Yeosang. His scent, his dark deep chuckles. The way his fingers glide along your body.

Him.

While his hands played with the fabric on your clothing. You turned your head to look back at where Wooyoung and San were, but the in a blink of an eye, they vanished.

“Don’t get this party started without us.” San’s voice frightened you as he was suddenly at the other end of the table, leaning over to give your forehead a light little kiss. Wooyoung, however, was now standing next to Yeosang, pushing your right leg opened wider so both men could stand in between them. “I can smell her from over there.”

“I know, our little slut is getting nice and wet from us teasing her.” Yeosang spat out such a foul name at you but it only made you whimper more. No way in your wildest dreams would you have ever suspected your life would end up with being sprawled out on a pool table with three Vampire, kiss and lick parts of your body that weren’t covered by your clothing.

Sinful. Hellborn. A daughter of Lilith. Words from your mother came flooding in your mind like little flashes of a candle flame blowing in the wind. Maybe she was right. Maybe she saw your future before you even knew it.

“F-fuck I need a taste,” Wooyoung whined, tugging at your pants, but what you didn’t expect was him to lift up the loose pant leg, exposing your right thigh. Yeosang pulled up your tunic, drawing his tongue out onto your hot skin. And finally, San, the last one, lifted your wrist to his nose, inhaling sharply before opening his mouth to suck on the soft flesh.

“I’d take a deep breath If I was you, pet,” Yeosang grunted with a sly smirk, making you let out a large gasp. You felt all three of them sink their teeth into you in a sudden snap, almost synchronised. The crunch of broken skin echoed in the room before ringing in your ears. You could feel their addictive vampiric venom pouring into your veins while they emptied you of blood. The euphoric feeling of being drained was indescribable. Like floating on a cloud, feeling the soft cotton tickle your body, leaving your toes and fingertips to tingle.

“F-ffuck. Argh.” Was all you could mutter out before rolling your eyes back again. You could feel Yeosang’s deep chuckle against your tummy, feeling like the sound almost came from inside you. And without letting his fangs slip, he drew his hand to your covered core. Pressing sharply on your sensitive button through the loose fabric. This made you let out another gasp, calling for Yeosang. “S-Sangie pleasee.”

San retracted his fangs from your wrist before whining, “Hey, I want to hear you cry my name out. Can you do that for me, pretty?” The vampire kissed along your arm until he got to your neck. You nodded while he tilted your head to the side, exposing your jugular. “such a good little doll. Now I want you to scream.”

And with that, he sunk his teeth into the crease of your shoulder and neck, making you let out a loud, painfully lustful cry. “FUCK SAN!!!”

Wooyoung and Yeosang finally pulled away after a few more moments, licking their lips of your blood. Yeosang had a deep growl rumble in his chest as he ran his thumb over the puncture wound, smearing the crimson liquid on your red irritated flesh. Wooyoung did the same but drew a heart with it instead making himself giggle in approval. “Fuck if we didn’t want to keep you alive pet. We would have drunk you dry.”

Yeosang’s empty threat would have scared anyone, but for some reason, it only enticed you more. Pulling your shaky legs up, you placed your bare feet on the edge of the pool table before spreading your legs wide. The grumpy vampire seemed to get the hint, taking his long nail he ripped the fabric right in between your thighs, making a slit-like opening for him and Wooyoung to get a perfect view of your soaking cunt. “Now, why don’t you look at that.”

Yeosang growls, sliding a finger along your wet lips. Your whole body shivers, feeling yourself becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. This shock wave made San sit up suddenly, pulling away from your shoulder, gasping for air as he let out the deepest, most feral-like groan you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, She tastes so good when you do that. I need one of you to fuck her right now so I can taste that again” His blood-stained lips kissed along your shoulder smearing all the red crimson liquid over your soft skin. His kisses your feverish as if he had become drunk off you alone. The few buttons that were holding your shirt closed were now being opened by the feline male, slowly revealing your hidden flesh.

“I volunteer as tribute.”

Wooyoung protested, shaking his belt in a manner of desperation, but Yeosang quickly scoffed, snaking his belt out of the hoops of his pants in one swift motion before dropping it. “I’d like to see you fucking try. This pussy is mine.” Yeosang’s deep venomous growl made the younger vampire cower slightly, giving him a slight pout.

“Why do you get to go first.” From your angle, you could have sworn you saw Wooyoung stomp his feet, making you giggle lightly, catching the attention of all three of the men around you. Yeosang kisses your tummy lightly, pulling your focus to him alone, his hands gripping your hips and body snuggling tightly against your hot core.

“What’s so funny, pet? Finding enjoyment over us fighting over you?” Yeosang’s lips travelled up your navel as he kissed along your newly exposed skin since San had now successfully unbuttoned your top, revealing your perky, tight nipples on your plump and soft breasts.

“Yes sir…” you whispered, closing your eyes as you revelled in the feeling of his tongue sliding along your body.

“Fuck, she’s so good isn't she.” San covered his mouth with his hand, sighing at how obedient you had become. Reaching for your breast he squeezed your plump flesh together, pinching your nipples between his pointer and thumb. You choked out a whine as he rolled the pad of his finger over your sensitive bud, almost completely distracting you from the vampire between your legs.

“Come on, Sangie, hurry up. I want to be inside her so badly.” Wooyoung has hopped up onto the end of the pool table leaning on his hand behind his soft frame. His hand palming his covered crotch, panting slightly as he watched San and Yeosang ravish you. Your hazy eyes looked back to see San standing straight and tall behind you. Giving you a sweet smile that was hiding a sinister lust underneath.

Before you could say anything about what Wooyoung had said, you felt Yeosang’s thick cock head breached your tight pussy. “Oh FUck!” You bucked your hips, helping him slide into you deeply inch by inch until he bottomed you out. He was definitely girthier than Seonghwa, making you feel like the wind was being knocked right out of you.

“Shhit. This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. Are you sure Seonghwa fucked you pet?” Yeosang began to ramble, pulling you down more so your ass was almost off the table. Sangie put his one hand under your thigh and hip, holding you still so he could slowly start thrusting into you, sharply and greatly. “So tight, so warm. Such a good little pet. You like being fucked baby? Bet you’d take all of us in one go if we’d asked.”

“Oh my god! Yes!!! please, Sangie.” You yelped at the top of your lungs just from the pure idea of having all eight of them. Pleasing them all. Dotting on them. You needed them just as much as they needed you. Yeosang gripped your shirt that hung open on the top and pulled you up until your face was inches from his and his lips, almost touching your own.

“It’s master, my sweet little slut.” He yanked you off the pool table, pulling out for a moment so he could help you walk to the couch and even though his movements were rough, his grip was gentle, holding you closely in a way. Lovingly. “Come on baby, bend over the couch for me.”

He gave your ass a squeeze before letting you fall on your knees on the plush cushions. The couch was facing away from the pool table, so when you leaned over the top of it, you could get a perfect view of the other two vampires. “Okay, new game.” Yeosang knelt behind you, holding your hips, rubbing his palm against your skin. “Whoever gets a ball in first gets to take over and fuck our precious baby here. Deal?”

You had to laugh as San and Wooyoung scrambled around to grab their own pool stick. Your smile was bright as you were about to say some cheeky remark but you slowly felt Yeosang enter your soaked pussy from behind making you only let out a shaky whimper. His hands gripped tightly on your hips as your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yeosang chuckled as he thrusted into your cunt in shallow motions. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you up so your body was at an odd angle, but you couldn’t care less. “Last time I checked I’m not god’s pathetic son.”

Your fingers lased into the couch cushions, gripping onto it for dear life as you felt him slowly hammer into you faster. Your pussy would clench with each thrust making the most beautiful groans and whimpers fall from his lips. The hand that held the back of your neck, snaked around the front to clench tightly, blocking your airway just lightly, sending your brain into a fuzzy mess.

“M-Master….” You cried, collapsing onto the edge of the couch. Your legs are shaking, and your arms are no longer able to hold yourself up anymore. San and Wooyoung were bickering, yelling at one another as they kept trying to get a ball in the hole. That was until San bent down and shot one of his stripes by hitting Wooyoung’s ball before getting it into the end left basket.

Your glassy eyes could see San’s triumph, along with Woo’s high-pitched whine of defeat. The knot in your stomach was tightened with every thrust of Yeosang’s hips but before you could reach your climax he slipped out of your soaked cunt making you hiccup in a loud whine. “F-Ffuckk.”

“It’s okay, pet. Breathe…” You tried to take in a shaky breath as you felt your whole body being manhandled until you were sitting perfectly on someone’s lap. San’s naked lap, to be exact. His hazy smile got you blushing as he leaned forward to kiss your cheek so delicately.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll take good care of you.” San’s cooe made you relax nicely against him as he lined his cock with your abused cunt. You were already so sensitive but somehow you were still craving more. The loud sound of pool balls whacking together got you startled but San stroked your cheek with his thumb slightly as he pulled your face towards his with his fingers. “Focus on me, baby. I want to see you come apart on my cock okay. No closing those pretty eyes."

You nodded with a short whimper followed by a simple yes that was so quiet you’re surprised San heard it. But then you remember that you weren’t fucking a normal man, but a beast in human form. A blood-sucking night-crawling beast that could kill you with his bare hands at any time. Your pussy clenched around his lengthy, and girthy cock making him groan. He slowly lifted your plump thighs up helping you gather a rhythm with your hips so you could ride him slowly. “S-sannie. Oh g-god please.”

“Such a good girl. Come on. Fuck you’re so tight...” You focused on his knitted brows and slightly parted mouth, seeing he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Your hips got faster as San started to buck upwards to match your movements. Your whole body was feeling like it was on fire, sensing you were close. He pushed your body up so he could help thrust deeper inside you. This left your tits to be right in his face, making him groan as he latched onto your plump flesh and sucked. Your breasts would be completely covered in hickeys by the time San was down them. And as his mouth traveled to the top of your breast you clenched around him, sucking him deeper into your tight cunt. He lost himself in your scent, the way you squeezed him and the sound of your pretty moans. He needed more, just another taste. He needed to taste the flavour of you when you came.

“S-San I’m gonna cum.” You gasped, tangling your fingers threw his hair.

“Come for me, baby. Be a good little human for me and cream on my cock.” He licked your skin before biting down, sinking his fangs into the top of your breast, jackhammering you at an inhuman pace. You screamed so loud that the whole manor would have heard, coming so much around Sans hard cock. You were it grew bigger inside you as your clenched harder, feeling him drink his fill of your red hot liquid.

“San.” A male voice called out but your head was too dizzy, feeling San continue his assault on your cunt and teeth in your flesh. “SAN!!” The voice got loud but your eyes began to droop feeling a wave of sleep erode through your body. You heard San lewdly growl animalisticly against you, still drinking your blood as his cock stilled tightly in you, letting him come deep inside you.

The voice before screamed again, but your eyes closed, and darkness took over before you could see or hear anything else.

—

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hisui-dreamer · 3 months

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omg omg !! HAPPY 2K RINNA <3 i’m so so proud of u and u deserve everything 💗 the event looks so fun hehe YOU ALRKEUADY JNIW WHI IN GONNANS ASK FOR

i really really love tulips so could i ask for lilia and tulips please? its meaning is perfect and deep love hehe CHEWS YOUR WALLS

good luck with your assignments and take all the time you need !! i love you and miss you mwahh

a crown befitting of you

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader

Synopsis: his feelings had grown so subtly, so steadily, that he had not realised at all

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, reader eats lilia's food omg

Word count: 783

Notes: mil mil my favourite person ever!!💕💕💕 thank you so much ill work hard on my assignments 🫡 i hope you enjoy lilia hehehe >∪<

Masterlist

flower of choice: tulip

tulips are commonly asosciated with perfect and deep love.

Looking back, Lilia vividly remembers the day you arrived in Twisted Wonderland. Amidst the grand spectacle of the entrance ceremony, particularly with Grim's frantic attempts to avoid being captured, there was something about you that captured his attention. Maybe it was the distinct curiosity shining in your eyes, navigating through an entirely foreign world with a blend of composure and uncertainty. Whatever it was, he found himself wanting to reach out and make you feel welcome.

He started looking out for you without even realizing it. He began with small gestures, like offering help with your studies when he found you hunched over a book in the library or popping down from the ceiling to help you find a classroom. He enjoyed seeing your smile brighten whenever you grasped a new concept or conquered a challenge. It felt good to be there for you, to share his experiences and insights.

As time went on, your interactions blossomed into a regular occurrence. Hours seemed to melt away as you engaged in conversations about anything and everything, exchanging stories of your homeland and experiences while he eagerly recounted his adventures from various countries. Among the students, you were the only one to actively praise his cooking, willingly joining him in the kitchen. These shared moments became cherished moments for Lilia, feeling a connection forming between you that he couldn't quite explain.

But it wasn't until much later that he realized the true depth of his feelings. They had silently amassed over time, creeping up on him when he least expected it. Suddenly, he found myself thinking about you all the time, wondering how you were and yearning to see your smile once more.

Just as his thoughts drifted to you, a familiar laughter dances through the air, drawing his attention. Turning towards its source, he finds himself captivated by the scene unfolding before him. The sun bathes the school courtyard in a radiant golden hue, casting a warm, inviting glow upon everything it touches. There you are, seated on the grass with legs crossed, skillfully weaving delicate tulip flowers into a crown.

Curiosity piqued, he approaches quietly, not wanting to interrupt your moment of concentration. As he draws nearer, you glance up, your eyes shimmering with delight and a mischievous grin playing upon your lips.

"Lilia!" you exclaim, a hint of surprise colouring your tone. "What perfect timing! I've made something for you."

With a graceful flourish, you hold up the tulip flower crown, presenting it as if it were a priceless gem. Each vibrant petal seems to shimmer and sway in the sunlight, casting a spell of enchantment over the surroundings. The delicate blooms, ranging in hues from deep crimson to soft pastel pink, are meticulously arranged in a circular formation, creating a majestic crown fit for royalty.

"You made this for me?" he asks, a wry grin on his face. He can't help but think it suits you far better.

"Of course!" You reply, your grin widening. "Don’t you think it’ll enhance your cuteness?"

A huff of laughter escapes him as you delicately place the crown upon his head, adjusting it until it sits just right. He can't help but feel a rush of affection towards you, grateful for your kindness and the undeniable warmth you bring into his life.

As you step back to admire your handiwork, your gaze meets his, and time seems to stand still. He finds himself entranced by the sparkle in your eyes, the way your smile reaches all the way to your soul.

It is then, with the sun kissing your skin and the scent of tulips filling the air, that he realises just how deeply he cares for you. In your laughter, in your playful gestures, he found a love he hadn't known existed, a love that filled him with a warmth unlike anything he'd ever felt before. And as he looks into your eyes, his own heart overflowing with emotion, he knows that he has fallen completely, utterly in love.

"Rather than me," he begins, lifting the flower crown from his head and gently placing it upon yours. "I believe it enhances your cuteness far more effectively."

He watches with rapt attention as a delicate flush blossoms across your cheeks, like the soft petals of a rose responding to the morning sun. The warmth of embarrassment paints your features with a gentle hue, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to your already captivating presence. In that moment, your eyes widen slightly, reflecting a mixture of surprise and affection, like sparkling jewels illuminated by a ray of sunlight.

Truly, the deepest of loves.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#✧2k! blossoming bouquets✦#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x mc #twst lilia vanrouge #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia x reader #✧millie🪭✦

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liesmyth · 16 days

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I'm always thinking about how G— was an engineer. A damn good one: the sole engineer of the cryo project, good enough that of all the ten billion, the FTL project chose him to inspect their work, back when the project was still a pipe dream. He was a man from an immigrant family in an underprivileged area who became arguably the world's best engineer, which is impressive in its own right, but it gets me thinking... Pre-Resurrection, John says they can't grow food on Mars (and for all John's unreliability, that's pretty believable, given that the high perchlorate concentration in Martian soil is one of the big obstacles to carrying out a sustained Mars mission), and as silly as this might sound, the engineer and scientist divide is real, and of all the nerds that John resurrected, I can't imagine it was the artist or the contract lawyer or the medical and chemistry experts that made the Mars installation viable. Gideon made a House out of it, and one that accepts recruits from across the Dominican system! "Saint of Duty" is said to fit him, evident in his loyalty and commitment to the Cohort and fighting the Resurrection Beasts, but I have to wonder, how much of that was his commitment to making shit work? I can't shake the image of a couple million people awaking to a ruined world, and someone had to get the other Houses settled, figure out spacecraft and space habitats using what little supplies they have left, and what better candidate for that than the man who canonically engineered spacecraft twice?

ANON I love this so much. You're SO right, and you put into words something about G1deon and John's shared background that I've tried to articulate for a while. In the very first chapter, John says, "It wasn’t that they didn’t have the money for a bigger team; we were simply the only ones capable of what they were asking."

This was an incredibly elite team. They were a brilliant bunch of hyperspecialised nerds. And, like, among John's squad, A- and M- and everyone else started out as colleagues — very smart people he probably met in academic circles, where being smart was kind of a prerequisite. It was their research that brought them together to begin with.

G1deon, though! He was John's friend growing up. John knew his grandparents. They spotted each other spare changes for snacks!! Then John went on to Dilworth, then to university and then overseas, and G1deon had his own (probably different) academic path, and maybe they only stayed vaguely in touch, but when it was time to look for an engineer that could help them build spaceships constructed to provide life support to the whole of humanity for centuries — and G1deon was the guy for that.

The fact that two boys from similar underprivileged backgrounds individually made huge breakthroughs in their chosen fields, and got to work together on a project that was meant to save the world... I bet at the time it felt like a miraculous coincidence. I think they thought, if they'd made it that far, that they could do anything.

(yet another layer to the tragedy of what happened etc etc. G1deon torn between John and P—. John stopping G1deon's heart)

Thank you so much for all your thoughts about the Mars space installation, also — I wonder how long there was between Mars becoming the Second House (founded by G1deon! he and Pyrrha did the bulk of the work!) and the institution of the Third House, which doesn't have a named founder and might very well have been a shared project built on the blueprint of what G1deon set up. "the man who canonically engineered spacecraft twice" — my god I love this so much. It's G1deon emo hours today

#this ask PUNCHED ME IN THE GUTS ty for my life #g1deon #gideon the first #tlt thoughts #ntn #ask #anonymous #tlt #tlt meta #ONE THING though is that I don't think we're meant to interpret G1deon as being from an immigrant family but rather native #it's not spelled out in the books so it's all headcanons #but pasifika G— is where I'm at personally

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coffeeshades · 1 year

Text

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)

#love is complicated fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fic #my writing

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b0xerdancer-writes · 6 months

Text

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 1

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that hes already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander (I love Mor but it’s a plot point for later on I promise!), cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 7,037

Notes: It's done! Part One is finally done! After being sick and busy with work and other personal life stuff it’s finally done!

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“So, I bet you are wondering why I’ve called a meeting with all of you today.”

The entire inner circle was stuffed into the living room of The House of the Wind as Rhysand spoke up addressing us all. I watched as Azriel and Cassian shared a confused look with each other, while Feyre joined my brother at his side rubbing soothingly. The only member of the inner circle that wasn’t here was Elain. Thankfully, I could go one more meeting without her clinging obsessively to Azriel’s arm and scoffing anytime I tried to talk to the male that was my brother as far as I was concerned.

Pulling myself from my thoughts I turned my attention back to my brother and his mate, as Rhysand cleared his throat. “I know this is sudden, I’ll admit this has even caught me by surprise, but there have been some recent advancements in our alliance with Eris.”

Rhys shifted on his feet like he was uneasy, Feyre took in a breath and began speaking for my brother. “Beron succumbed to his wounds from the war, making Eris the new high lord now. There is to be a meeting with him tonight to discuss a new alliance or to modify the currently existing one.”

I was happy Rhys found her; she was wonderful for him. He was so broken after the Amarantha thing but when he brought her here for the first time the way he seemed to light up gave me hope he would make it through.

Rhys gave her a loving look of thanks before he continued to speak. “Since Eris is now a high lord, we need to have more of a presence there tonight. As for you dear sister, I've had you removed from Court duties long enough people are beginning to question it, now that the war is over, I’m comfortable putting you back into that world.”

Rhys was right. I helped Mor and the boys run everything while he was under the mountain which included attending any meetings under the mountain, but the day he returned he pulled me from active duties, said he didn’t like the mask I had crafted to survive down there. I couldn't blame him for saying that honestly, I had crafted the mask based around the experiences with my father. The Pristine, cold, and calculated princess is what he had crafted me to be; I still used the lessons he taught me day to day. There was part of me that enjoyed the game that came with the mask, playing the part that was asked of me, it was sure to come into play on the board tonight.

There was a small conversation amongst the room before Rhysand dismissed everyone to get ready. As I stood from the comfy black couch and made my way to move past Rhys, he softly placed his hand on my upper arm. He gave me a look that I easily recognized as a mix of worry and nerves, and I felt the soft knock of his talons on my mental shield. I smiled and lowered them as he asked if I was going to be okay going back into the Court of Nightmares. I nodded and assured him I would be okay before moving to take his hand that was on my arm into my hand and squeezing it softly, I quickly slipped up the stairs into my room.

Opening the door to my closet I skimmed through the many dresses that hung there, searching for one that would be fitting. I thought about Eris then, I hadn't seen him except for when we were incredibly young, maybe a few weeks prior to his engagement to Mor. I had gone on a trip with my father to meet with Beron and discuss the engagement, me and Eris had sat in the gardens discussing the different flowers and creatures, from what I remembered he was a good male that kept his guard and mask up much like that of my brother. Something always sat wrong with me about the story Mor told, and even other ones that had been told to me by various members of the inner circle, maybe it was growing up around my brother as he crafted his mask that let me see through such things but with every story, I was told I could always find Eris’s mask. I wondered about how he had grown since that exchange as children.

My mind wandered through a forest of thoughts as I sorted through the many dresses, till one caught my attention. A black thinly strapped V neck dress. The dress was floor-length with a slit on the left side that reached mid-thigh and made of Satin, it had gorgeous dark red almost blood colored lace appliques on it that depicted vines and roses. I plucked the dress from the closet and brought it with me to look in the mirror at it, after deeming it a good fit for the night I draped it across the arm of the chaise lounge and fetched a simple pair of black pumps.

I moved to the bathing room quickly; drawing a bath, I poured a jar of a sweet-smelling oil into the water and hummed a long to a nonexistent song in my head. I stepped into the lightly steaming water and sunk to my chin in the water with a low relaxed sigh. Time went by quickly; I only rose from the bath when the house summoned a towel on the small accent table that held my many oils and bath potions. The towel was warm as I wrapped it around my body and stepped out of the water, the air caused a chill to run up my spine as I stepped into my bed chambers where the curtains fluttered softly in the wind.

I moved to my chest of drawers and pulled out some simple undergarments that would match the dress, slipping them on, I dropped the towel and moved back over to pick up the black dress. I stepped into the straps and turned to look in the mirror so I could do up the fastenings; smiling I turned back around and straightened out the dress on my body. I picked up the black pumps and moved over to my lounge to sit, fastening the small buckle around each of my ankles after slipping them on.

I moved to my vanity, settling on simple hair, makeup, and accent jewelry before I heard the commotion of everyone beginning to gather in the living room. I gave myself one more look in the mirror before slipping out of my bedroom door and down the hallway to join my brothers and their mates. Only a few people had not joined us in the living room when I had taken my seat on the comfortable couch, namely Mor and Azriel, but the male of the two could be heard making his way to us.

After a few minutes the entire inner circle had finally gathered in the living room. Rhys stood tapping his foot impatiently as he cleared his throat. “Alright then, now that everyone is here please remember to try your best to make tonight go as smoothly as possible, this will be like normal except my dear sister will be announced between the rest of you and Feyre and I. There are a few more things I wish to discuss before we leave.”

After Rhys finished his long lecture about behavior and details for the meeting later everyone had stretched and gathered into their winnowing groups, everyone nodding to each other as we all folded the world around us and reappeared in the hall of the Court of Nightmares. I could hear a male inside clear his throat as he began introductions. Starting with Azriel, then Cassian and Nesta, Mor and Amren, then it was silent for a few moments as a low orchestral noise filled the room before me leaking out from under the large stone door.

“Returning from her leave of absence, the sister of our high lord and princess of our court…” The rest of the announcer's words blended into the background as my mask washed over me and the large intricately carved stone doors swung open.

I scanned the heavily decorated ballroom, shooting glares at Kier and any other distasteful males I spotted on my way to the dais. As the crowd cleared the base of the dais one male stood out to me with his hair as bright as his personality I remembered, Eris, He locked eyes with me as he stepped back into the crowd and tilted his wine glass to me with a discreet smile. I nodded back to him as I climbed the short steps up to the thrones, moving to stand to the left of them.

Once my brother and his mate had their own introductions and had taken their seats, Rhys announced the celebration would continue while some of us stepped away to discuss politics. We all split up to do our jobs, I would not be part of negotiations despite having practically run this half of the court for Mor when Rhys was gone. I made my way to mingle on the dancefloor as I caught the slightest hint of Eris’s flaming hair disappearing around a corner towards the meeting room. I huffed scanning the party around me, spotting a servant carrying a tray of wine goblets, taking one from him. I made my way to stand near a finely carved pillar, several males of high standing stopped their conversation and looked over their shoulders at me before murmuring to themselves and finally approaching me.

There are only a few things males like them could want, and none of them were good. Within their first few sentences I lost any and all care for their poor conversational skills. Taking a sip from my wine glass I dismissed them with a wave of my hand and a quick, “Leave me, I have no interest in your schemes for power.”

The males retreated with a dejected look across all of their faces, to be fair I pitied them had they approached me in Velaris without my mask I would’ve listened to their words. As I watched the crowd around me, I was startled by a voice from over my shoulder.

“Ouch, the high princess of the night court, rejecting males before they even finish getting their names out.” The voice laughed after it finished speaking and I rounded on it holding a hand to my chest.

“Lucien fucking Vanserra, you ass you startled me!” I quietly yelled at him, the tone in my voice made him laugh again. I didn’t think he was going to make it tonight.

Lucien had been a close friend since he joined Feyre here, we were both the odd ones out of the inner circle. Lucien at least now had his brother, had the day court, or had the band of outcasts to turn to when it all got so much. All I had was the small hideaway my father had shown me when I was little.

“Surprised to see me, my lady?” He jokingly bowed and extended a hand out to me, pulling my knuckles to his lips after I placed my hand on his own.

“I didn't think you were going to be able to make it tonight, last I heard you were on some secret mission.” I giggled, tipping my cup to clink against his own.

“Just got back a few hours ago, just enough time to change.” He took a sip from the goblet and smiled at me.

“It’s always wonderful to have you around to talk to during events, but shouldn't you get some sort of rest?” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed.

“You chastise me the same way both Eris and my mother do. Like the sister I never had.” He placed his free hand on my shoulder squeezing softly.

Before I could retort back at the younger male, he was taking my now empty cup from my hands as well as his own and placing it on an empty tray a servant had as they walked by. He turned his attention back to me.

“Care to dance? We can at least make this night a little less boring.” He smiled down at me and extended his hand, as soon as my hand touched his he smiled at me and pulled me towards the dance floor.

The rest of the night passed quickly with Lucien as my company, I only realized negotiations had finished when I saw a hand tap Lucien's shoulder.

“Pardon me brother, but it looks like you're having quite a bit of fun, mind if I interrupt for a few dances myself? Give me a bit to catch up with an old friend?” The taller Vanserra had butted in with a smile, negotiations must have gone his way then.

“Oh! Of course, have fun brother.” Lucien stepped back into the crowd with a quick nod passing my hands off to Eris’s. He waited a moment to process where in the song we were before pulling me into a waltz leading us towards the center of the dancefloor.

“How did negotiations go?” I asked him in a hushed tone, “My brother won’t let me in on any of it.”

“It went well,” He chuckled. “Nothing major just asked for continued support if anyone wished to try to usurp me.”

His Amber eyes looked from me to scan the dance hall. “I may have also asked for a favor that involves you.”

Oh, this had to be interesting. “What did Rhys have to say about this favor?” I quirked a brow at him a moment before he spun me and pulled me back against his chest.

“That I needed your say on it, it wasn't up to him.” He leaned down to whisper it in my ear before he spun me back to face him.

“What kind of favor is it then? Don’t leave me hanging, I can’t make my decision without knowing first.” I giggled as we fell back into the simple rhythm of the waltz.

“My advisors and nobles of my court have been pressuring me into beginning to court a female, I may have told them I had my eye on someone already, though that is a lie for me to hide it from them for so long it had to be someone of importance. Someone I’ve known for a very long time. No one better than you to fill in that role.” He sucked in a breath before clearing his throat softly. “We don’t actually have to court, you were just the first female that came to mind when the lie popped in my head we fake it for a bit attend a few dances with the other i gift you some of my belongings and some jewelry to make it look like we have been courting for a few years now, we get into an argument at a dance and break up. Saves me a bit of time to figure everything out and holds them at bay. What do you say?”

I smirked up at him. “Oh, you know I’m always down for a bit of fun like that.” He spun me once more before dipping me. A smirk on his own face.

“Honestly I was counting on you still having that rebellious personality, glad that it hasn't been diluted or taken away over the years.” He smiled, pulling me up from the dip to pull me close to him.

“Well, I’m happy to say that my personality hasn’t changed much in that way, though I fear my brothers may be beginning to regret not stamping it out of me.” I nodded my head towards my brother who now was sitting back on the dais watching me and Eris with a scrutinizing glare.

He chuckled to himself as he lowered his head to rest his chin on my shoulder meeting Rhys’s gaze. “If you are really keen on accepting then we need to go shopping so I can buy you a few things that would seem like courting gifts to the members of my court. After that I’ll arrange for you to come visit Autumn as my guest for a few days before the fall equinox celebration.”

“Sounds like a plan my lord~” I teased, leaning back into his grasp. If we were going to play house soon might as well make the role believable.

He chuckled to himself as the song came to an end and he led me away from the dancefloor, making a display of kissing my knuckles. I smirked to myself and grabbed a wine glass off of a passing tray, taking my place back against the pillar smugly. My eyes drifted across Eris’s frame as he moved back up to discuss whatever it was he needed to with Rhysand.

It didn't take long for the other Vanserra brother to slither back to my side. He took a long gulp from his goblet before he lowered it with a snide smirk. “Soooooo, care to tell me what all that was about? I thought it was just supposed to be some catching up, it didn't look like that to me.”

I shoved his shoulder before taking a sip of my own drink and rolled my eyes. He made a gesture for me to start talking and I made a fake annoyed noise which he snickered at.

“If you must know, you snoopy male, your brother approached me with a proposition.” I took a sip from my goblet which gave him enough time to choke on his own as he started coughing his eyes wide. “Not that kind of proposition Luc, though I suppose in the eyes of the courts it's not far off from that.”

His eyes stayed wide as he nodded eagerly waiting for me to continue. “He asked me to fake court him, so the old males that Beron hired as his confidants would get off his back long enough for him to make some real change in the court.”

Lucien nodded, taking a gulp of his goblet, his eyes darting where Eris stood talking with my brother and then flicked back to me. “I knew you two had history, but it must be more than I originally thought it was if he trusts you this much.”

I smiled softly to myself, nursing another sip. “I'm very thankful he still trusts me the same way he did when we were children.”

Lucien’s eye searched in mine for a moment as he relaxed against the stone pillar behind us. “From what I heard, when you and Eris were younger you two were attached at the hip. What happened there?”

It was going to be a long night. “His engagement to Mor is what happened.” I'll admit that my voice came out more bitter than what would’ve pleased my family.

Lucien raised his brow at me. “Oh? Can I ask about that? If you two were attached at the hip, why weren’t you two engaged instead?”

My brows furrowed as I spotted Mor in the crowd laughing with Nesta. “I wasn’t ever made aware of the real reasons behind it. I know my name was brought up but my father shot it down. It should’ve been me though, why else would our fathers have been so keen to have us introduced to the other and why else would they have been okay with us sneaking off into the woods of the forest house grounds?”

Lucien nodded but didn’t say a word as he took another small sip. “It almost angers me what she did,” I nodded at Mors location, “Cassian doesn't know about any of what happened, none of the inner circle really does. Except for me, because Eris told me everything, one of our final meetings before everything went to shit, he broke down in my arms, told me everything, how terrible he felt that he couldn’t help. I mean it Luc, he told me every little thing that happened. All of them thought I was just being rude or biased with every glare I gave Mor back then.”

I took a sip letting out a sigh. “I was just so angry back then at her, for multiple reasons. For taking my chance out of this court, for taking the hand of the first male I ever really cared for besides my family, for hurting Eris the way she did, for lying about the real story behind it.”

Lucien rested a hand on my shoulder aware I needed to voice my frustrations. “Sorry for bringing it up, if it was such a tender subject I wouldn’t have.”

I shook my head. “No Lucien, don’t apologize. You asked a perfectly fine question, I'm just thankful even after everything that happened he still trusts me to do something this important to him.”

Lucien’s hand on my shoulder rubbed softly trying to offer some variety of comfort. It hadn’t been the whole truth but no one besides me needed to know that. The only other people who knew the truth were dead as far as I was aware: My father and Beron. There had been a long discussion between me and my father the night Eris was engaged to Mor, it was the first time my father had ever apologized to me, it brought us closer together even though it should have driven us apart.

Rhysand was at Windhaven that night, I held it together till I crossed the threshold of the House of Wind. Rhysand would always say our father was a rough, cruel male, but Rhys had never seen the way he would comfort me or care for me. Maybe it was just the fact I was his first daughter and had always favored him since birth but even mother never dared separate us, understood I was a daddy’s girl from the first time he held me in his arms after my birth.

Lucien cleared his throat as he drew my attention back towards the crowd, where Eris had a smug smile on his face and was working his way back towards us grabbing a goblet of his own. I steeled myself with a deep breath. There was one truth I held closer to my heart than any other. I had loved Eris from a young age; if he needed me to do this, as much as it would hurt after all was said and done, then I would do it. The taunting tug in my chest left a bitter taste in my mouth as I pushed it down and forced a smile across my face as Eris slid into place in front of me and Lucien, smirk still plastered across his handsome face.

Eris engaged Lucien in brotherly small talk with a wide grin on his face and I smiled taking a final sip from my goblet. His smile reminded me of the same one that crossed his face all those years ago when we were younger. I don’t know what came over me but I cleared my throat interrupting the two red headed males who both looked at me curiously.

“Do you two want to come to Rita’s tonight? I needed to go shopping with Eris anyways but it would be way more fun if you joined as well Lucien.” The two males nodded murmuring their agreement to the party.

Eris was quick to turn his attention to me, which caught Lucien’s attention with a smirk. He made an underhanded comment to his eldest brother and the two made small bicker back and forth. I smiled softly, happy to see both of the males relatively comfortable despite the cold atmosphere that was the Court of Nightmares.

The rest of the night continued on easily, though when everyone gathered to be winnowed back to Velaris the two red heads either side of me stood out amongst the inner circle. I noticed Azriel’s glare at the elder brother, both still deep into conversation to notice the quiet male’s cold stare. I challenged Azriel’s gaze who shifted on his feet and turned his attention back to Rhys. I would be winnowing the two redheads with me back to the shopping districts of Velaris where Lucien would slip off to his own apartment till it was time for Rita’s.

The second we were dismissed by Rhys I pulled the two redheads close, bending the shadows around us. Eris took a step closer to me, close enough I could feel his chest bump into my arm with every breath he took. As the world folded back into place the sun was just beginning to set below the horizon, Lucien waved and dismissed himself and Eris took a step back from me, his face slightly flushed as he looked around the part of the city I landed us in.

I took a deep breath in letting my mask slip finally and pulled Eris in for a deep hug. He returned the hug and I looked up at him with a soft smile on my face, “Good to have you back.” In my life, in my arms, there were so many ways to finish that thought that crossed my mind but I knew I would never get to voice them the way I wanted.

“Good to be back at your hip.” Eris smiled though it didn’t quite reach his eyes like he wanted to say more or that there was some hidden meaning in his words. He pulled me back into a hug pressing my head into his shoulder. “Where do we start looking for stuff?”

“The Palace of Thread and Jewels would be our best bet for things that would look like courting gifts.” I cleared my throat, rocking on my heels and nodding in the direction of the said location. I took a breath in trying to fight the thoughts in my brain and the tug in my chest. He smelled amazing like cinnamon and firewood, it was intoxicating but I couldn’t lose myself here.

He entwined his hand with mine and began walking in the direction I had pointed him. “I will have to get you a fox kit or a shadow hound pup though I can keep it in my kennels. I'll just have to say it's for you. It's an autumn court tradition though we can worry about that later, it shows the relationship is getting serious which it would be if we had been secretly courting each other since before the second war.”

My heart fluttered thinking back to when we were kids and he promised to gift me one of his hound pups one day. We were maybe 10 at the time and he was showing me around the kennels, he was so proud to finally have his own hound even if it was barely 6 weeks old. He boldly proclaimed he was going to marry me and that he would give me a hound as part of his gifts, little chest puffed out with a smug look on his face. I smiled and giggled under my breath, he shot me a faux offended look to which I elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow! What was that for?” He rubbed his side and gave me a look that screamed kicked puppy.

“No need to be so offended. I was merely thinking back to that time in the kennels when we were children.” I snickered, pulling him towards the doors of the palace that were nearing.

“Oh mother, save me, you actually remember that?” His face was flushed in embarrassment but it was thrown out the window as he moved to hold the door for me.

“Thank you, and I remember quite a lot of those days in the woods.” I snickered, pulling him into the palace with me.

He laughed with me and his chest collided with my back, hands coming to rest on my hips to steady both of us. I had abruptly stopped as my eyes caught a dress on display on a mannequin in one of the several shop’s windows. I felt my heart flutter and skip a beat at how close his body was, a low taunting voice echoed softly in the back of my head. The voice taunted me how this whole arrangement would never be real and I'd just end up hurting myself, I smothered the voice down into the depths but could still feel the ache of the words.

“What did you stop for?” Eris looked down at me from over my shoulder quizzically with a brow quirked up. His eyes danced from me and followed to where I was looking at the dress.

He smiled brightly, taking my hand and pulling me into the shop and up to a worker. I tuned out the world till his voice called for me. “You like the one in the window right? Love?” his fingers entwined with mine as I nodded.

“Yes” I nodded quickly and watched as the worker stiffened up and went to grab her boss, the maker of the dress. She led us to a private dressing room, handing me a soft robe and pushed me through the curtained off section to change into it. I watched from the corner of my eye as Eris whistled before taking a seat on the low backed padded couch and reclined, looking around the small shop.

A few minutes passed and I heard hushed whispering before someone greeted Eris, he made a small acknowledgement back before there was a knock on my small dressing room. The small fae from the counter poked her head in with a smile and asked if she could step in. With a nod she slid through the curtain the dress from earlier over her shoulder. We must have looked like a sight I realized, still dressed in our fancy outfits from earlier, now shopping for more equally if not fancier outfits.

I smoothed the robe down as nerves prickled at my neck, watching the young fae female hand the dress up on a small hook before she offered to help me change into it. I thanked her and agreed for her help, she began informing me about the dress. She was the apprentice of the older lady that owned the shop, this dress was her first one to go out to the sales floor, that she was honored for the princess of her very own court to be trying it on. With her assistance I shed the robe and stepped into the dress, she pulled it up my body adjusting the fabric minorly and began clasping the dress closed.

She motioned me towards the small mirror in the dressing room, and I could practically see her dripping nerves waiting for my say on the dress. I took in my reflection the dress was primarily black, a-line skirt with a strapless sweetheart neckline, made of tulle and silk; the underskirt was shades of burnt red orange and yellow making it look like it was on fire. I adored it, it was gorgeous. I was walking out with this dress whether Eris agreed or not. I saw her smile in the back as I took it in, she must have been able to read my face; she asked if I wanted to show “the nice male I came in with” the dress, to which I agreed and she held the dressing room curtain out of the way for me to step through the archway.

As I stepped through the curtain my eyes caught on Eris, he was slightly reclined on the small padded couch; one leg crossed at the ankle over the knee of his other leg, one arm over the back of the couch fidgeting with the wooden filigree, and the other was resting in his lap. The way the lighting of the shop hit him painted him like a burning sunrise, my breath caught in my throat as the click of my heels caught his attention. His amber eyes raked over my figure and I watched as his bored expression lit up and he smiled at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

I felt my face heat up slightly and tried to will it down as the small female helped me up onto a platform with 3 mirrors surrounding it. Eris uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, watching me closely.

“Give me a spin.” I didn’t even have to see his reflection in the mirror to see his smirk.

I rolled my eyes and turned in the dress till I was facing him and countered his mischievous gaze with “Not that it matters because I’m walking out of here with this dress in a bag either way but what do you think, oh Grand High Lord of Autumn.”

And then he laughed, genuine and with his entire body, his shoulders shook and he had to cover his mouth with his hand to try and stifle his laughter. His eyes watered as he grinned at me, and it aches in my heart for a moment as I tried to think back to the last time I had seen him laugh like this, or even this happy.

“Sorry-I-sorry,” He had to stop himself to burst into laughter again, “Sorry just how you said that, I was going to suggest we get the dress anyways and you can wear it to the Autumn Equinox Festival in a few weeks. You haven’t given me such sass since we were ten.”

“You bring out the sass in me Eris, what can I say except it is entirely your fault.” I laughed with him, a smile on my own face. When Eris was genuinely happy his energy was infectious.

He smirked back at me laughing softly, eyes sparkling with some mix of mischief and glee. He stood and made his way over to the platform, his hands wound in my skirt as he shifted it to and fro with watchful eyes. As the skirt shifted it looked like flames licking at the edge of the black fabric. He smiled and looked over his shoulder at the apprentice who tensed up as if she was about to get criticized.

“Would you be able to make a matching suit for this dress, I wish to have a matching suit to wear with her for the Autumnal equinox festivities in my home court.” The small fae nodded and went to make some comment but Eris cut her off before she could speak.

“I understand you are an apprentice but your craftsmanship on this dress is extraordinary, I’ve never seen someone accomplish such a gorgeous flame effect on a dress before. Have you ever attempted a suit design before?” He moved from me to rest a hand on her shoulder, and her face began to grow a blush on it.

“Yes, but I haven't ever attempted effects like this on suits. My teacher says there's less room for creativity in suits, she doesn't let me experiment much with them sir.” she swallowed and looked down like she was expecting a harsh reaction.

Eris simply smiled and rested both hands on her shoulders which caused her to look up, he was softening his exterior slowly but surely becoming the high lord he really wanted to see in the world, no doubt influenced by his mothers softness. “I'm sure she would understand if it was a commission, or maybe even if you did it as a private commission. I'm sure with your fantastic skills as shown in the dress, you will be able to accomplish a similar effect, yes?”

She nodded quickly and dismissed herself quickly, returning with a measuring tape, quill and pad of paper. She asked me to remain in the dress just off to the side of the platform, and then asked Eris to step into the center. Which he happily did and shed his overcoat tossing it to the padded couch, smoothing out his undershirt before the small fae was wrapping her tape around him and jotting down on the paper here or there. She stepped back quickly asking me and Eris to stand together, and she took a seat on the small couch as she began scratching her pencil and a few small colored ones I hadn’t even noticed, glancing up at me and Eris occasionally here or there. After a few moments she approached Eris with the pad of paper and he took a few steps away from me and held the pad out towards me with both hands.

This fucker. I assumed he was holding it up to envision him standing in the suit beside me, he wanted it to be without a doubt a matching piece that no one could debate about. I realized what he was doing in having us match without a shred of doubt that it was in fact planned. It was something you really only saw to this extreme in married couples at these kinds of events. If we showed up like that it would without a doubt quell anyone’s doubt we were a serious couple deep in the throws of courting.

Eris nodded and smiled, exchanging a few words with the female that I missed due to the sudden blood rushing into my ears that drowned out all other noise. It wasn’t until Eris motioned me back into the dressing room, stepping from the platform to hold the curtain open for me as the small fae scrambled towards the front to grab a garment bag and receipt for Eris. Had he already paid her? I must have missed the exchange of money at some point.

“Come now my dear, we have much to do, I would like to purchase some accent jewelry for us to wear with that outfit. Maybe you'd like a fur wrap for your shoulders in that dress? The air will be chilly once the sun begins to set that night.” He made a show of holding his hand out for me to take.

I rolled my eyes as I stepped down and took his hand as I stepped into the dressing room. I just barely caught a glimmer in his eyes and the smirk across his face in the smaller mirror as he dropped the drapery and pressed himself against my back, one hand still in mine, pressed close to my collar bone and the other of his resting on my hip. I froze as he dropped his head to the side of my neck and made eye contact with me in the mirror.

“Need some help taking it off? Shame I thought it clung to you perfectly.” He kept eye contact as he pressed a kiss to my shoulder and I could barely hear it over the heartbeat in my ears but I still heard it, a small giggle and murmurs of awe and murmurs about ‘how romantic’ from the girl and I can only assume her mentor, or other shoppers I didn’t notice in my awe.

His hands slid from mine and found the clasp on the back of my dress, his eyes dropped from mine as he took a step back and began unclasping each small fastening. I pressed a hand to my chest as the dress began loosening, holding it to me to prevent it from dropping as he finished the clasps. His eyes met mine in the mirror and I would have sworn they were a few shades darker than normal; as he winked and pushed his way through the curtain holding it open just a hair, enough for only him to slip through and he looked back over his shoulder at me.

“Hurry up and change love, there's a few more stores I would like to visit before Rita’s tonight. Don’t worry about the dress, I'll take care of it and have them put it in the bag for you.” he dropped the curtain.

I let out a shaky breath as it fell back into place. I could hear him talking with the small apprentice and her teacher on the other side, but I was distracted by the heat that flooded my face. I let the dress drop to the floor before stepping from it and taking my other one from earlier and fastening it back around me; just as I finished the apprentice knocked softly before sliding in to pick the dress up, moving to place it in the nice soft garment bag she brought with her.

“Pardon me if I’m speaking out of turn when I say this my lady, but you are a very lucky female to have a male like him spring on you like that.” She moved her eyes quickly up at me and then back down to the dress as she fastened the bag closed.

“Yeah…” I nodded softly, “Yeah I am very lucky.”

She smiled softly at me as she stood up with the bag held neatly in her arms. “Hard to find males like him nowadays, best keep him close.”

“I plan on trying.” I smiled at her as she stepped through the curtain again and I took a second to collect myself before I had to face Eris.

“Fuck this is going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be.” I murmured under my shallow breath as that familiar ache and tug settled in my chest again. I'd known this ache since childhood and now it was going to rear its ugly head at every turn. I both dreaded the oncoming storm and wished for it to bring the one thing I had hoped for since I was eight. Since the day at the lake when that golden string had snapped into place for me, but Eris hadn’t batted an eye or acted any different, he had never felt the snap or tug. I could only hope this staged courtship would change that for him, that he would finally feel the bond snap into place.

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #inner circle #a court of thorns and roses

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auspicioustidings · 8 months

Text

Services/Goods of Equivalent Value

Summary: You decide to renovate a crumbling farm house into a teashop, not realising there is a military base right down the road.

Work Count: 3.9k (this was completely by accident)

CW: None, the whole thing is a fluff piece

This was probably crazy. It was definitely crazy right? People didn't actually get to pursue their passions and have their dream job under relentless capitalism, that wasn't a thing right? So then why did you think that you could be different? Especially standing on this road (dirt path really) looking at the crumbling wreck of a farmhouse with only one suitcase and a backpack to your name.

The property had already taken a chunk of your savings and you'd need every penny of the rest to try and turn it into what you imagined. You walked over the threshold and took a breath. It was a rainy day, the puddles on the floor evidence of the holes in the roof. Parts of the floor were cracked and rotting. Only one window had managed to stay completely intact, the rest either totally gone or cracked beyond repair. But when you turned the tap and found that after a heroic sputter the water did flow through you grinned.

It didn't matter how the small space looked now, it mattered what you could see in it. You got to work.

You threw the screwdriver on the ground and huffed, stopping your feet like a child. This was the 5th time you had attached the new front door and the 5th time it was wrong. It wouldn't fit in the frame properly. You kept plaining down the edge gingerly, taking off a tiny bit at a time so you didn't go too far, and every time when you propped it up it seemed like it fit until you actually added the hinges.

"Ye ok there hen?"

Oh that was embarrassing, there was a man on the road. He was jogging in place, pausing what must have been a run judging by his workout gear to give you a bemused grin. You flustered a little, wildly gesturing to the door in accusation. You had every good reason to be in a huff, the door was being a dick.

He laughed at you and you blew out a breath before groaning and slumping down to hug your knees and bury your head there in embarrassment, your voice muffled.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong, it just won't go on."

You heard warm laughter and then footsteps coming towards you. Felt a hand gently petting at your head in a 'there there' gesture.

"I wouldnae expect it tae. It's the wrong type of door for this frame."

You unburied your head and looked at him, aghast.

"But can't I just make it smaller? I've been making it smaller. I really love that door."

"Aye that would eventually make it fit, but it's an interior door, wilnae dae fuck all to keep the elements oot."

You groaned and just accepted your fate, falling back on your ass and then laying star fished on the ground to stare at the sky. You were bone tired. You'd laid the floor, it was crooked as hell. The windows were fitted but two of them just did not open properly and you couldn't figure out why. You had given up on the leaks, putting buckets down for the moment and hoping the next downpour would hold off until you could come up with a solution.

It wasn't like you weren't trying your hardest, but it was just so much all the time and you wondered why on earth you thought you could do this. A shadow fell over you as the man leant to look at you with a smile.

"I can help ye with the door" he offered, holding out a hand which you took to shake from your spot on the ground, telling him your name. "Nice tae meet you, John MacTavish."

"I can't pay you John MacTavish, so thanks but I'll figure something out."

"Wisnae offering for pay hen, just tryin' tae help a damsel in distress."

You considered him for a moment before hauling yourself up and making your way inside, motioning for him to follow. You started tearing through the place to find a pen and paper, clearing tools and assorted nonsense off of the countertop to lay the paper flat.

Johnny took the place in with some sense of awe. Last time he saw this place it was basically a ruin and he had to hand it to you, you had done a half decent job with it. There was charm in all the flaws, made the place feel undeniably cosy. He noted the buckets, would have to fix the roof. He wasn't any good at that kind of work, but hadn't he seen Rudy doing roof work on one of the safe houses before? They were due a visit from Los Vaqueros soon, he'd ask him to come help. Wasn't too far a trip, this road was a half hour run from a small off record military base the 141 tended to use when they didn't feel like being miserable in some rules bound grey prison of a base.

Rudy was a bit like him, always loved a project. He tried to figure out what exactly you were doing with the place. The counter looked like a bar of some sort, maybe a shop?

"Ok John, here you go" you said, presenting the very hastily written contract.

I, the undersigned, agree that I will pay in full Mr John MacTavish for works carried out either in monetary value or services/goods of equivalent value as soon as I have the means to do so.

"Services and goods eh? Wit ye selling?"

"Once I get the place fixed up, tea."

Johnny couldn't help but grin at your expression. You were so determined and so excited about the prospect, like the idea of it had completely re-filled your energy. Cute.

"Add coffee to the menu and you have a deal."

You liked Alejandro immediately and immensely. John, or Soap as you were now calling him and honestly you had no clue why, and Rudy were absolute terrors together. You actually did enjoy being around them, but my God if it didn't tire you out something awful. It was impossible not to be high energy with them, bouncing around and laughing and having fun. But when Alejandro had joined he had calmed you down, allowed you to take it slow and easy after days of feeling like a live wire.

With the roof fixed and a front door that worked you were able to start actually unpacking the suit case you had brought into the place months ago. Two kettles and your favourite tea set along with a big copper pot you loved, some utensils and some hand blended tea. It wasn't a lot, but being able to make that first pot of tea almost made you cry.

You were extra attentive, making sure it was brewed perfectly before going outside to find the others. You were nervous, the first time you had felt that way around them. None of the three were much for tea, that you knew.

"Hey I... uh, I made tea. I don't actually have any coffee just yet but I promise I'm going to get some soon! It was just in the meantime, if you wanted something to drink. Tea I mean, if you wanted to drink some tea. Which you do not have to" you rambled, trying to give your best winning smile to the three men currently working away at one of the windows. The ones that you couldn't open you had installed completely wrong so they had taken to reinstalling them.

Johnny and Rudy were content to watch you ramble away, seeing you like this being new to them so choosing to enjoy it while it lasted. You were adorable like this, heart on your sleeve telling them that it was important to you that they enjoyed something you had made for them. Alejandro only smiled and pulled off his gloves, stuffing them in his back pocket and going over to you.

"We would love some tea, it's the first time you've made it here no? Thank you for trusting us to share it" he said warmly, watching how you visibly relaxed. He liked that he could have that effect on you.

"Well if the boss says we drink tea then we drink tea" Rudy laughed, him and Soap following after.

You reckoned that if he went by first impressions, Simon Riley probably thought you were the biggest airhead he had ever met. In your defence though, you had the worst cold known to man when he had come round.

The place was looking great, but the fireplace wasn't done yet. As you had been since starting this project, and as you had been hiding from any visitors, you were sleeping in the building in a sleeping bag on the floor. It was getting bitingly cold and you were bundled up in layers whenever you went to bed. You could not afford to rent somewhere nearby while this was going on and to be honest you hadn't really thought ahead to what you would do when you actually opened the place. Probably just keep on sleeping on the floor, or maybe once you got furniture on one of the cosy armchairs you wanted to get.

He had made a house call when you were miserably sipping at a hot chocolate. Rudy had taught you how to make it, a recipe from Mexico. It was gently spiced and beautifully warming and smooth, but with your current cold you could barely taste it, hence the misery.

"Y'should really lock the door, I could be a murderer walking in here."

The man who had walked in was tall, in full tactical gear and wearing a balaclava with a skull on it. Probably was a murderer.

"Please put me out of my misery Mr murderer."

You honestly hadn't meant to say that to a complete stranger, but it felt like your head was stuffed with cotton wool instead of grey matter today. Thankfully he only chuckled gruffly instead of fulfilling your request.

"And then where would I get more of whatever tea Johnny brought back to base?"

Johnny. Right, this must be Ghost then. Soap talked about him sometimes, said him, Gaz and Price liked your tea which had made you jump up and down in excitement at the time. Your signature blend had taken you years to get just the way you liked it. Soap had also said something about Ghost having a mask, so you at least assumed this wasn't one of the other two.

"Oh right, let me get you some to take away with you. Hang on" you said, going to pack some of the leaves up into a little brown bag for him.

You put it on the counter and then went into the cupboard, grabbing the mug you had gotten in a Halloween sale. It was a white mug in the shape of a ghost, two little eyes on the front. You ladled in some of the hot chocolate from the pot on the stove and put that on the counter as well.

Ghost watched the whole thing with concealed amusement. He had genuinely come to get some of the tea, he liked the blend and they had run out of what Johnny had brought. But he had also come out of curiosity. It was clear Johnny was fond of you from the way his eyes lit up when he'd tell them all what he had done with you that day whenever he would come back to base. Rudy and Alejandro too when they had been visiting seemed enamoured, tense from mission planning right up until a visit to you would have them coming back relaxed and happy.

Part of him had been hoping to scare you a little showing up the way he had in gear and mask. It was probably because you were clearly sick, but you weren't treating him like something scary. No, you were sluggishly getting him tea and then giving him hot chocolate in a cute little ghost mug.

"You shouldn't be working sick, definitely a health and safety violation."

"Place isn't open yet so not technically working."

"In that case, thanks for the hot chocolate."

When he left, he took off his massive cosy looking jacket and draped it over your shoulders without a word before grabbing the bag of tea and taking off.

You tried a bunch of names for the cat and none of them seemed to fit just right. The scrappy little thing started hanging around the place when you started leaving out snacks for it and you found you enjoyed the company.

The place was nearly ready now, interior cosy and furnished with a bunch of mismatched furniture you had thrifted that somehow managed to match the vibe very well. With the fire going the place glowed just the way you had always dreamt it would, and the way the scent of tea clung pleasantly to the air was more than you could have hoped for. Simon and Soap had helped haul a lot of the furniture, but they had been gone for a month now. You really hoped you would see them again so you could show them the place now, completely transformed from when they last saw it.

Cosy enough now for this cat to enjoy at least. She even had a favourite spot, one of the wing backed armchairs by the fireplace.

"How about Binks?" you asked her, currently leaning behind the counter and mulling over a cup of tea.

In response the cat only yawned and blinked lazily at you.

"Ok, not Binks then" you laughed, taking a sip and sighing in contentment. Honestly who knew if you'd ever get customers, this place was completely out of the way, but you were proud of what you had created. Dirt poor, but proud. You'd open soon you thought, actually give this a go.

The cat eventually stretched and padded over to the door, looking over at you expectantly.

"Alright alright, time for you to go wherever it is you go" you said, going over to open the door and let her out.

There was a giant on the other side of the door and you all but jumped out of your skin in surprise. The man looked like he had been considering knocking, just as surprised as you were for a moment. Purring broke you both out of your surprise, the cat butting up against the man's legs.

"So this is where you've been getting to Herzogin" he said to the cat, leaning down to give her some scratches which resulted in more purring before she went right back to her spot on the chair, leaving you and the giant stood at the doorway alone.

"Is Herzogin her name? I'm sorry, I thought she was a stray" you said with a slight smile, hoping you hadn't accidentally become a catnapper.

"She is a stray of kinds, the base nearby feeds her sometimes so I got used to having her around is all."

"Oh my God the base! That makes way more sense now, I didn't realise there was something like that nearby."

So that's where all these men had been coming from. You wondered if that meant Ghost, Soap, Rudy and Alejandro weren't stationed there anymore or had been moved. The military wasn't something you understood, but you assumed they must move around a lot. Did they have a home base of sorts? Was it selfish of you to sort of hope the one near you was a home base for them?

"If they had told us about this place we would have visited" the man said as if in apology.

"Oh no don't worry, I'm not actually open yet. I'm just sort of practicing drinks until I work up the nerve" you laughed. "Do you want to try something? I'm best at making tea, but I've been trying out coffees and hot chocolates as well."

You moved to unblock the doorway, inviting him in and telling him your name. He said you could call him König. Luckily this place had high ceilings so he could experience the cosiness without it being cramped for him.

König found the next few hours to be some of the most calming he had experienced in years. He wouldn't deny that he enjoyed the bloodthirst of battle, it gave him a manic energy that suited him. But there was something to be said for letting himself be fully off duty. It was nice to teach you how to make Einspänner, laugh at your pronunciation of it and have you laugh back rather than be nervous around him for his size or his reputation. Sipping his drink by the fire with a cat in his lap and you softly telling him all about your big plans for the place if it started to do well was something he hadn't known he had been yearning for.

He knew him and the others in Kortac were only here a few more days, the 141 being gracious in allowing them to use their base to lay low while they handled the absolute mess happening in America just now. The whole thing had at least given the teams an uneasy alliance for the time being. Maybe he'd put some effort into keeping that alliance going so he could visit again.

You knew that you should do some sort of advertising for an opening, but the idea was overwhelming. Instead you just quietly popped a little open sign by the door and went about your day as normal. You would probably get nobody coming in because nobody knew this was here and that suited you fine. It felt like once 'opening day' was over and the pressure of it was out of the way, then you could actually seek out customers and not feel like it was as big a deal.

If zero people showed up your first day then the only direction was up right?

Only two people did show up. Price and Gaz. They had greeted you warmly like you were an old friend, explaining that they knew Soap and Simon who would be home soon but that they wanted to visit themselves. They seemed to like the place which made you happy, both settling in at one of the tables and chatting amicably away with you while you made their tea.

Herzogin didn't seem to care that there was company, barely even looking to check before curling back up in her spot happily purring away.

Captain Price found he liked this place immediately. It struck him as bordering on fantastical, seeming like a tea shop from a fantasy novel on the inside. It was an hour at a brisk walk to get here but he regretted not making the trip sooner, imagining that any customer who had come once would certainly become a regular regardless of distance. It was a relaxing spot, almost nostalgic feeling.

For Gaz the place was lovely, but he was more fascinated with you. He had wanted to visit before, had tried to tag along with Ghost and Soap and been denied. He reckoned he probably knew why now, bastards were being selfish and keeping you all to themselves.

"Is it always so quiet for you on weekdays at this time?" Price asked at some point in the conversation, watching the pretty blush that stained your cheeks with interest.

"Oh well technically, this is the first weekday I've been open at this time. It's actually sort of opening day? I mean I didn't really advertise or anything, I wasn't actually expecting anyone to show up if I'm honest" you replied sheepishly.

"It's a soft open then, just to test everything out yeah?" Gaz said gently.

"I think that's an idea. This can be your soft open and then in a week you can open proper. That way Ghost and Soap can be here for it" Price added.

Both of them were giving you such soft looks that you couldn't help but agree with them, settling on a date in a weeks time for a real opening. When the conversation turned to how you would advertise they had promptly told you not to worry about it with a knowing look to one another.

Every seat in the place was taken and the tables and counters were overflowing with sweets and snacks from all over the world. Bukkumi, halva, berlinerkranser, churros, shortbread, teacakes, all brought in for everyone to share. You were so busy making drinks that you didn't even register how ridiculous it was that you were happily hand fed bites of different desserts every so often by whoever happened to be near you when you stopped to fill a cup or mug.

It was nice to see everyone you had met again and to meet new faces. Herzogin took it all in her stride, figuring out quickly who she liked. You hid a laugh seeing König huff when she curled up in Simon's lap. The official opening was by all accounts an outrageous success and everyone absolutely overpaid on their bills regardless of your efforts to stop them.

Farah promised to teach you how to make the halva while Horangi swore that the bukkumi would remain a trade secret and you'd just have to hire him next time he was in town to make it for you. Aksel had rolled his eyes at the Korean man and pressed a kiss to your cheek in thanks for taking care of them. Kate smacked Soap upside the head when he immediately made a beeline to give you kisses as well which made you laugh before blushing and pressing a quick peck to his cheek when he pouted about it.

When everybody was finally out of the door you were absolutely exhausted. By the time the sound of the last car leaving faded away you were already done with tidying all the plates and cups away to the sink. You'd deal with the cleaning up tomorrow, you were far too beat to even consider doing it now. Giving Herzogin a kiss on the head after you had gotten ready for bed, you curled up in the chair by the fireplace, crashing out hard almost immediately.

"Told you so."

"Ye always have tae be right about everything don't ye LT."

"Alright. Get her in the car would you Sergeant."

"Right-o Captain, we kidnapping damsels now?"

"It's not a bloody kidnapping you cheeky bastard. We're putting her in a proper bed for the night and taking her back in the morning once she's made a bad attempt at explaining herself."

"She can take my room."

After some discussion on that point it was decided that you would indeed take Ghost's room with the reasoning it meant nobody would disturb you. They could hardly put you in one of the empty rooms where anyone might walk in. Everyone who they had invited for the opening was staying at base and they were not about to risk the likes of König or Rudy figuring out you were sleeping under the same roof as them. They'd avoid that for as long as possible.

Tomorrow they'd let you sweat a bit and then tell you in no uncertain terms that you'd be staying with them for the time being until they could build you an extension to your shop with a proper living space. You could pay them back with services/goods of equivalent value after all, and they could think of plenty of ideas for what that looked like.

#cod #cod au #tf 141 x reader #konig x reader #los vaqueros x reader #fanfic #truly I was in a very cosy mood this evening and could do nothing but write about cosy vibes #shan't apologise #mhairiwrites

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joels-darlin · 9 months

Text

Bad Day

Pairings: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Warnings: hurt, angst, shouty Pedro (if that is even a thing), comfort, fluff, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, sad Pedro.

Summary: Pedro has a bad day and you bear the brunt of his frustrations.

Word count: 1.5k

Author Note: Appreciate that RPF isn't everyone's cup of tea so feel free to keep scrolling, I always make sure when writing for Pedro that I keep it to his true character and also respectful. Just a piece I've had in-progress for awhile and I've spent far too much time on it for it to go to waste. Enjoy and as always feedback is appreciated ♥ Special thanks to @ladybess-a03 for providing your beta reading services and wisdom, also for being a continued support ♥

AO3

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint where everything had gone astray. It was early, and he had woken up in a shocking mood; the bleak, grey, rainy weather outside and lack of sleep contributing to his miserable state.

It frustrated him to know that, of all days he had to leave the house, it was for something that could have been done over the phone. Next he couldn’t find any clean socks, and eventually had to forgo his mission to find some or else he’d be running late, and instead slipped on the worn pair from yesterday. Finally, upon entering the kitchen, he noticed they were out of coffee, so it looked like he was leaving even earlier than intended to stop at Starbucks for his fix.

So safe to say when you waltzed downstairs singing ‘Morning’ in a cheery tone it rubbed him the wrong way; irritated him, in fact. Pedro grunted in response, not in the mood for talking. Observing this straight away, you opted to retreating to the bedroom to change, giving him some space for five minutes.

┈

“Hey P, any idea where my laptop charger is?” you questioned as you reached the bottom step of the stairs. You were sure it was around here after working from home yesterday. Pedro was still in the kitchen, head down on his phone, thumbs stabbing away at the screen. No response.

“P? Do yo-”

“Oh my fucking god, WHATTT?…You know what, no wonder you can’t find it, this place is a fucking mess,” he said, lifting his arms to gesture to the various items haphazardly scattered across the room, his tone laced with frustration and anger.

“Have you even cleaned up in here this week? And, to answer your question, NO, I don’t know where the damn charger is,” he snapped back, continuing his tirade of anger. Bastard.

His venomous words hung in the air, coating the room with an awkward silence, and for the first time since you’d known him you were unsure what to say next. Yeah, okay, it had been a busy week for you both. Between your day job, Pedro between filming, costume fittings, and the constant interviews and photoshoots, trying to keep on top of the house in general was impossible. It wasn’t a huge mess by any means, just well-lived in. But every evening you found that you were both were too exhausted to even attempt chores.

You weren’t sure what audacity he had to assume the job of cleaning up was solely on you, to be honest. That wasn’t at all like the Pedro you knew.

“I’m going to work,” he grunted before grabbing his car keys, the door slamming behind him on the way out.

You stood frozen to the spot, partially in shock. Pedro had never raised his voice to you; he could be stern at times but never once had he acted like this. Glad it was a work from home day, you grabbed a glass of water before heading up to the home office.

┈

Today was one of the rare occasions where Pedro opted to sit in for his coffee, holed up in the dark corner of a Starbucks in the hopes that he wouldn’t get recognised. But in his haste to leave the house, he hadn’t bothered to check the time, and realised only once he’d started driving away from your home that he was at least two hours early for his first meeting of the day. Curling his hand around the now lukewarm cup of black coffee below him, sighing outwardly, his other hand came up to card through his already messy locks.

The events of the morning back at home were playing in his head on loop. Pedro didn’t mean to act the way he did, a complete and utter asshole. The feeling of regret pooled in his stomach as soon as the words left his mouth. Unfortunately he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and taken it out on you which was completely unfair. In your case he knew how stressful work was at the moment spending your work from home days locked in the home office, constantly nattering away in meetings between trying to get your own tasks done to please managers.

What broke his heart the most was the look of sadness, and he supposed shock, that adorned your features when he spat those words out; eyes starting to well slightly with tears, your feet rooted to the ground almost in abhorrent horror at what he’d spat out. Only now, sat in this coffee shop, was he just beginning to realise the weight of his words and how they were directed towards only you. The onus of keeping things in check was on you both. Draining the last of his coffee he sighed again, leaving his seat and disposing of the cup on the way out. He had Hell a lot of grovelling to do.

┈

So far your day was not going smoothly after the events of this morning. Everything else then seemed to fall like fucking dominoes.

First your work laptop wouldn’t turn on, and only after two hours on the phone did IT decide it was broken and that you needed to come in for a replacement (brilliant, thanks for that. Real waste of time). Secondly, once getting a replacement, you had spilt once warm coffee all over the front seat in a rush to get home. The final nail in the coffin was on your commute back from the office. Focused on just getting home so you could attempt some work today, you nearly ended up in a crash.

Through no fault of your own (your head might have been all over the place on account of Pedro’s foul mood this morning, but you always paid attention on the roads), someone ran a red light. It just missed you, and nobody was hurt, but it was a close enough call that you needed to stop before heading the rest of the way home. Pulling over into the nearest petrol station for a breather, body shaking with fright, you had debated calling Pedro at this point. But knowing he was busy in meetings, and still being mad at him, you decided against it, eventually starving off the panic attack on your own. A massive sigh of relief left your lips upon parking the car on the drive. Knowing you were in for a long evening you hunkered down in the home office playing catch up with the pile of work that got pushed aside earlier in the day.

┈

All day you had played on his mind, especially during the fourth meeting of the day. Bored out of his skull, not really contributing and more listening and making script notes, this unexpected meeting was thrown into his schedule last minute which meant he was now home later than usual.

He’d missed you to the point where it made his chest ache, wanting nothing more than to rush inside and beg on his knees for forgiveness. Putting the car in park he sighed, glancing up at the window. The office light was still on which meant you were still working; he wasn’t surprised.

Locking the door behind him and placing the keys in the bowl by the entrance, he moved slowly in search of only you. His eyes doing a quick scan of the adjoining kitchen and front room. “Still upstairs” he thought, sighing loudly, hoping you would have heard his car pulling up. What he didn’t fail to miss - the place was now immaculate. That feeling of guilt again pooled in his stomach again like it did several hours ago. Pedro sat on the couch waiting; defeated and guilty, taking his phone out as a distraction. Eventually you made your presence known, coming downstairs. He stood to attention before your feet had the chance to touch the ground floor.

“Sweetheart…I-I-” he began.

“It’s okay, P don’t worry, I’m s-” you started, but couldn’t get anything out, his words interrupting yours.

“No, no! Querida, no, I’m the one who should be apologising, I was out of line. I snapped at you because I woke up a grump…it was uncalled for and I’m sorry…please come here” he said, begging in his tone, arms outstretched.

Padding along from the other side of the room you closed the gap, practically crushing against his warm chest. His arms came around your waist in a tight hug, placing a tender kiss atop your head. A few moments just to enjoy each other's embrace.

“I can’t apologise enough, mi amor” he said softly.

“Hmmm I might just forgive you…if I can get a kiss” Moving back from his chest so you could look at his face, Pedro leant down to meet you; foreheads now touching. His hand moved from your waist to cradle your head, thumb rubbing ever so gently over your cheek.

“Never have to ask sweetheart” he whispered softly.

Smiling down at you his hand moved down to your chin taking it in between his thumb and finger, gently guiding your lips together in a tender kiss.

There was one thing for certain the bad days were worth it if they all ended like this.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader

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make-me-imagine · 11 months

Text

Worth Saving

Plot: When you are on a stealth mission in a rebel base, Obi-Wan must listen from a distance. When you are found out, injured and trapped, Obi-Wan races to save you, even when you tell him it's not worth it.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Gn!Reader

Prompt: A is alone and hurt badly, they can talk to B through an earpiece/phone. Eventually A stops talking and B thinks they lost them. But they find them alive.

Requested By: Anonymous; this is a really old mystery prompt request lmao

A/n: I don't recall if they've ever even used ear-pieces in Star Wars except for with pilots in their ships, or if they just like...don't exist. But let's pretend they do lol

Warnings: Mild cursing, mentions of blood and death, wounds. Pretty angsty. Lack of a sense of self-worth from reader.

Words: 2.3k

You tapped on the new piece of hardware hanging over your ear as you walked through the darkened backrooms of the base.

"Is this thing working?" You asked in a hushed tone.

"Yes, I can hear you just fine." You heard Obi-Wan's voice come through with a small amount of static mixed in.

"Oh good, now I can have your voice in my head telling me all the things I do wrong all the time now."

You could almost hear the smirk on Obi-Wan's face at your sarcastic remark before he replied "Perhaps this will stop you from making your impulsive decisions then."

"Don't get your hopes up."

Obi-Wan smiled again as he checked his scanners again. Even in these kinds of situations you could always make him smile.

He was nervous for you, being alone in a rebel base with no real knowledge of what you were actually looking for. And he hated that he was so far away, unable to get closer due to the base's ability to scan for ships.

So you snuck in yourself. Obi-Wan insisted on coming too, but you needed someone to be prepared to get you out fast, besides, if you got caught, there was a higher chance of him being recognized. You had a better ability of blending in, and no one knew your face, you couldn't be tracked back to the resistance.

"Damn"

Obi-Wan's heart dropped when he heard you curse, immedietely sitting up in his chair his hands hvering over the ships controls in case he needed to make his way to you.

"Y/n? What is it?"

"Someones coming, hold on." Your voice was barely audible, but Obi-Wan held his tongue, and his breath.

You snuck into a nearby room and leaned against the wall in the darkness. The sound of people walking past echoed through your ears.

Your heart was hammering as you held the handle of your phaser tightly.

"Y/n?" Obi-Wan's voice spoke softly, worry obvious.

"I'm good." You whispered and you heard an audible sigh of relief.

Looking around the room you had snuck into, you realized it was full of computers and paperwork. Looking closer, you saw drives locked up in a cabinet. Your interest piqued, you inched closer, wondering if the information on the drives might be valuable.

"I found a bunch of data drives"

"Any way of knowing what's on them?"

Breaking the lock, you took as many drives as you could fit in your bag. "No Idea but I grabbed some. I'm going to try and get into their system."

Able to hack in, you were only able to find one file on a potential weapon development for the rebels before you suddenly heard the door behind you slide open.

You dropped down, trying not to be seen, but you weren't fast enough.

"There they are!"

Through the comm's Obi-Wan heard an unfamiliar yell before the sound of weapons fire was heard. Obi-Wan immediately started the ship and made his way towards the base.

Hearing you grunt in pain, Obi-Wan's heart dropped "Y/n?"

"I've been hit" You said with panic in your voice as you fired your weapon at the rebels. Killing one, and wounding the other, you managed to get out of the room.

You raced down the corridors, your abdomen burning from your wound. As alarms started to blare through the base, you looked for a way out, but as the sound of running approached, you felt a sense of dread wash over you.

"I'll be there soon Y/n, can you get to the pick up point?"

"I'll get back to you on that."

Weapons fire filled the comm's again and panic coursed through Obi-Wan. He knew it was too dangerous to send you alone, he hated that he didn't go with you, he hated that he didn't risk the resistance being linked to the mission.

When silence came through the comm's Obi-Wan spoke "Y/n, what's going on?"

He heard your heavy breaths through the comm "I can't get out, they've got the place flooded with people. Obi-Wan, they knew I was here. They didn't just find me, they were looking for me."

Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat "Are you sure?"

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see you "Yes, they knew"

Anger and worry coursed through him, who found out? Or, who betrayed you?

"Where are you?"

"I found a small storage room, I'm hiding in, I don't know if they'll find me. If they do, I'm screwed."

"How are your injuries?"

You looked down at your body and you swallowed. After the first hit to your abdomen in the control room, the ambush of rebels in the hall did more damage. You had been hit in the shoulder, arm and leg. It wasn't good, you already felt your body weakening.

Your clothes were burned from the phaser fire, the wounds were cauterized, but blood seeped from them due to your desperate escape.

"Not good."

Obi-Wan's stomach turned "I'm almost there, just hang on okay?"

"Obi-Wan, don't"

"Don't what?"

"Don't come for me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm too far into the base, it's too risky. And I'm too injured. It's not worth it."

Obi-Wan let out a scoff of anger and surprise.

"You mean you're not worth it?"

You always had this mindset. You always threw yourself into dangerous situations so other's didn't have too, because you thought you wouldn't be as missed, that you wouldn't be worth as much, that no one would really care if you died.

And he hated it, he hated that you didn't see your worth. He hated that you didn't see how much he cared.

Your silence told him exactly what he already knew.

"How can you still think that?" He asked, his voice desperate "How can you think after all this time, after all the people you've saved, that you aren't worth it?"

"It's an occupational hazard I guess." You spoke softly, obviously in pain, but he could hear the forced smile on your face as you spoke.

You were never one to want to worry him, so you always made jokes.

"Even if I don't think I'm worth it. It's too dangerous for you. The base is flooded with people, you may be a jedi, but you can't make it through all of them to find me. You'll get yourself killed."

"I'm coming to get you Y/n, nothing is stopping me."

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you weren't sure if it was because of the pain, panic, or the way Obi-Wan was speaking.

"Is this what it feels like to be you, when I make reckless decisions?"

You heard Obi-Wan let out a soft huff "Yes"

"No wonder you always get so upset with me."

"Occupational hazard" He mumbled as his knuckles turned white due to the grip of his hands.

He could hear your voice slowly getting softer, you were loosing strength.

"I'm getting close Y/n, just hang on."

You could hear the sound of footsteps nearby and fear coursed through you. You pointed you weapon at the door, prepared to fire if needed. Even if you'd die here, you wouldn't let them take you out easily.

The footsteps faded and you felt relief wash over you. You hissed as a jolt of pain shot through your stomach.

"Y/n?"

"Obi-Wan, it's too late." Your voice was softer now, as your eyelids grew heavier. Your clothes slowly soaked with blood, your wounds aching.

"Don't you dare say that. I know you're stronger than this, so just stay awake, I'm almost there!"

Obi-Wan could feel himself losing to his emotions, but he didn't care, not now. He couldn't lose you, he wouldn't.

"Always so worried about me, always caring so much more than others. Why?" You were mumbling but Obi-Wan could still hear you.

Obi-Wan felt his eyes burning, hearing the pain and worry in your tone "Don't you know?"

"Yes. But If I'm going to die I'd like to hear it at least once."

Obi-Wan shook his head, "You're not going to die. You're going to hold on, and I'll tell you in person. How does that sound?"

"So now you're trying to bribe me into surviving?"

"Anything to make you stay"

You didn't notice your grip loosening and your gun falling to the floor, or the way your body began to slump. You tried to focus on Obi-Wan's voice, to stay awake, but you felt yourself falling into darkness.

"I don't...think I h-have...a choice"

"Y/n? Y/n!"

When you didn't response, and he was only met with silence and static, dread washed over him.

"Y/n?"

Seeing the base come into view, Obi-Wan began to land his ship. Fear, anger and determination coursed through him. He wouldn't believe you were gone, not until he found you. And if- if you were dead, he wouldn't leave you here, not alone.

Obi-Wan managed to get half-way through the base before encountering rebels. After a fight, and a light wound to his arm, he made his way through the base again.

Reaching out with the force, he felt for your presence, any sign of you nearby. Feeling nothing, he felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

Suddenly, just for a second, he felt a familiar presence, a sort of warmth washed over him, but then it was gone. But it was enough for him as he picked up his pace, and began running.

Finding a small door sort of hidden in a corridor, Obi-Wan knew it would be the sort of place you would go too. Going in silently, his eyes immediately spotted you at the back of the small room and his heart dropped.

You were still, no movement could be seen. Your phaser was lying on the ground beside you, your hands limp and head to the side. Your clothes were soaked with blood, as phaser burns could be seen.

Obi-Wan ran to you taking your face in his hands. He felt relief wash over him. You were still alive, though barely.

He knew it would e dangerous getting you out. He'd have to carry you, but he was not leaving you. Scooping you up into his arms, he made his way out into the corridor. He could hear the sound of footsteps nearby. Taking a breath, he started to run, to get you to safety, so save you.

--- --- ---

You weren't sure how long you had been in the darkness, lost and numb. But slowly, you started to feel as though there was someone in the darkness with you. Like you were underwater and someone was reaching for you, all you needed to do was take their hand.

"Don't go Y/n."

The voice was familiar, but you had trouble placing it. It was warm, it felt safe.

"I'm right here, we're almost out of this, just don't let go."

Suddenly, like a jolt of electricity you realized. It was Obi-Wan. He had come for you after all. But you were sure you were dead. Weren't you?

No. Not yet.

Darkness swallowed you again, but you felt lighter, as though you weren't drowning anymore, but floating, waiting to wake up.

When your eyes finally fluttered open, the room around you was unfamiliar, but the presence beside you was a comforting one.

Obi-Wan stared at you for a moment, surprised by your sudden consciousness. Relief followed quickly though as he leaned forward.

You met his eyes before you spoke, your voice soft "You came for me"

He smiled softly "Of course I did."

"Even though I told you not too."

"Yes"

Your eyes wandered to his arm, which was now in a sling. "You got hurt"

"Yes."

He saw the guilt cross your face and he reached out and placed his hand over the top of yours. You met his eyes again as he spoke.

"It's nothing serious. I got off a lot better than you did. You've been asleep for days."

You looked down at Obi-Wan's hand as it encased yours. "I heard you, talking to me. Telling me to hold on."

Obi-Wan smiled softly. He knew what you were referring too. When he finally got you back to the ship, he reached out to you with the force. He knew there was a connection to the force within you, even if you refused to acknowledge it. That was how you could hear him.

"And you did hold on."

You nodded softly, seemingly lost in thought. Obi-Wan squeezed your hand softly and you looked back to his face. Your eyes remained locked in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"You asked why I cared so much for you" He began, his voice uncertain, knowing the things he wanted to say were meant to stay a secret. Knowing he was going back on his own training and beliefs for simply feeling them.

You shook your head, stopping him "You don't need to tell me Obi-Wan"

Silence fell as your eyes remained locked. You knew how he felt, and he knew how you felt. But that was all it could be. And you both knew it.

In a moment of desperation, before you thought you were going to die, you wanted to hear him say it, just once. But now you were alive, safe again. And those words could no longer be said again.

"It's okay." You said softly, your emotion obvious in your voice "I know."

Obi-Wan smiled, but there was only sadness and regret behind it.

He wanted to tell you so badly, but both of you understood the consequences if he let those emotions take hold of him. You smiled at him, but there was sadness behind it. The same as he held onto.

You both knew how you felt, and you both knew that feeling was worth holing onto, worth saving until you could final feel it freely. But for now, it would remain unsaid.

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about how this came out, but I hope you enjoyed it!

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Star Wars & Obi-Wan Taglist: @hoeforthefictional, @asgardianhobbit98, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @maellem, @locke-writes, @stargirl-05, @linkxneptune, @skylions-den, @sardonic-the-writer, @emptyflowerpots, @hoodedbirdie, @gatefleet

#obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi/reader #star wars x reader #star wars/reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi oneshot #obi wan kenobi one shot #obi wan kenobi angst #star wars oneshot #star wars one shot #star wars angst #star wars imagine #obi-wan x reader

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byeol-ssi · 2 years

Note

Heloo! I loved reading you "sharing a bed" trop it was amazing 😭 would you mind if i request one with the tot men? 🥺

Your work stays awesome as always 😭😭

hearts sealed by starlight

✦ artem wing. luke pearce. marius von hagen. vyn richter. x gn!reader

✦ tags: sharing a bed (completely SFW, although slightly suggestive jokes are made in marius' part) + various tropes. slight spoilers for luke's part if you've never played through his personal story.

artem wing *. ⋆ fake dating relationship

"ARTEM?" your tentative voice comes out as a whisper of sound.

artem hums in response. it was beginning to feel like, somehow, the silence had gotten louder now that you were both settled in for the night — with you occupying the bed, and artem laying on his makeshift cot on the floor.

your head pops out from above, and you look straight into his eyes with what seemed like surprise.

"you haven't fallen asleep." a statement, not a question.

work had been exhausting, to say the least. on the other hand, he was uncharacteristically wide awake despite the fatigue he'd accumulated throughout the past few days.

artem sighs through a smile. "it appears you haven't as well."

a beat. then, "would you like to come up and talk?"

"about?"

"anything, really!" your head peeks further out in your sudden burst of excitement, the blanket around your shoulders slipping. "let's just think of this as a sleepover. we can even share the bed!"

his forehead creases, "we never discussed, nor drafted a written testimony, should an event like ... bed-sharing occur during our agreed time together within the scope of our contract."

"artem, it's fine. it's not like i would file a lawsuit against you." you shook your head, laughing. "i probably wouldn't win anyway. so, come up."

he frowns. if he was being truly honest, the contract and terms were there more for his sake, since artem doesn't really know if he could control himself around you without them in place.

but then you're already scooting over, and he finds himself swiftly slipping in beside you.

the sheets rustled as adjustments were made, and you both soon realized with slight, sinking, horror that the bed was much smaller than you anticipated — evident in the way your skin inevitably brushed against his with every movement.

you clear your throat, offering him a sheepish smile. "i think people will definitely believe our story now ... but you still seem worried."

"although i do trust the judgment of celestine and my peers, i sometimes wonder if i'd gone too far in trying to protect my reputation," he admits quietly. "i'm likewise ashamed for involving you like this."

aside from the strain that came regularly with his responsibilities, artem found himself under extreme pressure and criticism from his environment.

somehow, being single while he neared his thirties labeled him as "unreliable and untrustworthy", and the firm subsequently saw a decline in clients.

this unfortunate reality is what brought him to you. by agreeing to become his pretend (keyword being, pretend. other synonyms included: fake, not real, an act) romantic partner, artem would be able to secure his image.

"hey. we do what we need to survive." you slid a hand across the bed and threaded your fingers with his. "and also, i've never been this happy before. so, i want you to stop burdening yourself with guilt."

he swallows, trying to ignore the warmth that spread from your touch and your voice — so soft and incredibly kind.

artem throws an arm over your stomach, keeping you as close as possible. skinship and other forms of physical contact were deliberated upon prior to this entire scheme, although nothing in your agreement explicitly stated that these had to be made only within public view.

artem only hopes you don't report him for taking advantage of this loophole. "you might fall off," he reasons out.

fitting yourself against the length of his body, your answering smile is warm, sweet, and playful. "swear to fall with me?"

"i swear," he vows, and nothing more is exchanged between you that night. when the moon rises high enough to peek through the clouds, you've already fallen fast asleep in his arms.

and artem stays awake throughout, wondering if he should someday reveal the truth of his worries.

what he expressed earlier wasn't a complete lie, but truthfully, he's becoming less concerned with preserving his name the longer he spends in your presence and focusing more on figuring out how to keep you as his.

because artem no longer cared if this was all fake, as long as he could stay by your side.

luke pearce *. ⋆ reluctant allies to lovers

"you never said anything about us sharing a room," LUKE snaps brusquely, trapping the phone between his ear and his shoulder. "i only agreed to this because you insisted that we could find a potential cure around here."

"just think of it as a vacation! you don't need any added stress, so don't worry about it and have fun. but not too much fun, if you catch my meaning. also, try to keep your hands to your —"

luke promptly ends the phone call as he steps back into the bedroom. two lamps had been left burning by the bedside tables, casting the space in a soft, warm glow.

you were already tucked into bed, cream-colored sheets dipping with the shape of your figure. you look up when he enters, setting the tablet in your hands aside. "was that doctor aaron?"

luke nods, dropping to the armchair. he rubs his forehead, trying to center himself. he's aware that he was being irrational, a far cry from his usual self.

the tension hanging precariously between you both wasn't the most ideal as well — another issue he admitted to being the cause for acting so cold and standoffish.

you purse your lips. "is something wrong? did he have any new leads?"

"no, no. he was just ..." playing matchmaker where his services were clearly unwanted, his mind provided. he coughs into his fist. "checking in."

an awkward silence ensues, one you break by nodding to where he was sitting. "okay ... are you sure you're comfortable sleeping there?"

"i've slept in a lot worse places. this is fine."

a sigh leaves your lips. "you don't have to. we can share, alright?" you propose, more forcefully this time. "i'd rather not have dr. aaron find out and scold me for not taking care of my patient."

ah, right. it wasn't unusual to find yourselves paired up frequently and you've played plenty of roles together in the past — albeit begrudgingly on luke's part.

and when you accidentally learn about his illness, you agreed to become his nurse/investigative partner as per the meddlesome doctor's request.

why? luke has absolutely no clue.

it takes all of his self-restraint to not glare at the bed, which would be the bane of his existence for the next ten hours.

"fine," he concedes. he lifts one side of the sheets, revealing your bare legs underneath. there wasn't anything remotely scandalous about your nightwear, but he squeezes the phone in his hands, terrifyingly similar to how a scandalized victorian woman would clutch her pearls.

he placed the gadget down with much more force than intended, and hopped into bed as quickly as humanely possible.

a cool palm — yours, he realizes — presses itself unannounced on his forehead, brushing away his bangs. he sits up jerkily, confident he was redder than a tomato.

"luke, you look like you're burning up. have you taken your medicine? how about some water?" you soothe gently, raising your hands to show you meant no harm. "or would you like me to leave? i can find somewhere else to stay the night, no problem."

and this is exactly why he dislikes working with you.

he doesn't even know you that well — has been trying not to learn more, has been doing his utmost to keep his distance — and yet, you relentlessly look out for him without making him feel as if he was glass.

and all luke wants to do is surrender.

he blew out another frustrated breath, stubbornly denying how you made him feel. it wouldn't be right. it wouldn't be fair. he shouldn't aspire for the bond between you to develop into something more.

not when he'd be leaving you too.

and so, he remains resolute in his decision to push you away — like all the other times in the past.

before you got too close. before his heart fell any further.

"it's nothing," he rasps, swinging a leg over the bed. "you should get some rest."

"do you ... want me to hold you?"

luke's entire brain halts, as does his attempt to escape. "wha — what?!" he sputters, heat climbing up even further on his cheeks.

"i heard it helps," you shrug. a yawn eclipses the next words that leave you. "doctor aaron said so."

he almost groans. luke should decline. conjure some sort of excuse or half-ass lie. drive the wedge between you even deeper than it already is — once and for all.

yet, when he clears the thickness lodged in his throat, something else comes out of his mouth entirely.

"yeah?"

you nod, motioning for him to come closer. "yeah."

he blinks. just this once, he convinces himself.

"okay." his nerves settle when he shuffles hesitantly into your waiting arms. his arms wrap around your torso as you settle back down on the mattress, burrowing deeper with his weight above you.

your hand starts carding through his hair, the sensation so relaxing that his eyes begin to droop shut. without thinking, he breathes you in, calming his heart in the process.

after a long while — when more stars eventually come out of their slumber and take their place in the night sky — you whisper, "are you feeling much better?"

he does. but that didn't mean he wanted to let you go.

"could we stay like this a bit longer?" he mumbles, lips grazing your collar bone.

you don't deny him. "sure, luke. as long as you want."

marius von hagen *. ⋆ arranged marriage

"you can take the left side," MARIUS offers, quietly going around the hotel room and flicking off the lamps.

you embrace the soft pillow in your hands a little tighter, trying to ease the nervousness quivering in your stomach. you find refuge in the queen-sized bed — which was ironic, considering that the bed was the last place you should be in given your present circumstances.

"is this another one of your cheesy pick-up lines?" you joke, attempting to lighten the subtly-charged air by adding, "because you're always right?"

the corner of his lips twitch the slightest before he shakes his head in amusement. "i am. but also because you always sleep on the left."

the sky had already deepened to a purple haze that reminded you of marius's gaze as you regard one another silently for a drawn-out beat.

your eyebrows draw up when his observation slowly sinks in, and you likewise couldn't help the suspicion that laces your tone. "i do? how do you know that?"

"you're my spouse." he shrugs easily. the bed shifts as he settles in next to you; the rustling of covers accompanying his movements. "these are things i should know."

you ignore the way your pulse trips over itself. instead, you flipped on your side to face him, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "but we've never even ..."

marius raises an eyebrow, and the smirk that followed after spelled purely of mischief.

"what? slept together?"

at your appalled expression, marius tips his head back and bursts into laughter, his hair a splash of color on the satin sheets. you're certain the warmth surging up your neck could rival even the hottest of stars.

"why would you phrase it in that manner," you grumble, sitting up and smacking him playfully with a pillow.

it was true. you've been married for a couple of months now, but still slept in separate bedrooms. he'd generously offered you a space of your own at his own house, and you'd always managed to get adjoining rooms during business trips.

this time, however, your parents were adamant about finally sending you off on a honeymoon they planned and prepared for — much like your marriage, and everything else that concerned your relationship — when you both initially refused and made excuses to take one shortly after the wedding.

his arm shoots out to grab hold of the pillow, bringing it down to catch a clearer view of your face. he stares at you for a few seconds, his expression softening, but his smile never slips.

"i check on you every night whenever i arrive home from work."

oh.

"and despite how spacious the bed is, i somehow always find you taking up the left side," marius continues, completely unaware of how your heart just shot itself up your throat.

"it's not really meant for one," you answer breathlessly, awkwardly huffing out a laugh. your hands fiddle with the edge of the pillow, "maybe we should start ... you know."

"sleeping together?" he unhelpfully — and too cheerfully — supplies.

your entire face bursts into flames again, but you refuse to let it show. "yes. you're my husband." you stick your chin up, feigning nonchalance. "it's only natural for married couples to share a bed. it'll also allow us to become more comfortable with one another in the future."

he'd be yours for real, if only you knew, and if only you asked.

carefully, he brushes your cheek with his knuckles, the ring on his finger glinting in the dark. "if it's alright with you."

"it is." you lean into his touch. certain you won't be running away from him anytime soon, he opens his arms out to you.

you duck your head to conceal your smile, laying your cheek against the center of his chest.

"but only sleep. no funny business, mr. von hagen."

marius wonders if you could hear the beating of his heart sounding out your name.

"i would never. sweet dreams, mx. von hagen."

vyn richter *. ⋆ childhood best friends to lovers

a hesitant knock resounds on VYN's bedroom door. he glances at the grandfather clock, takes note of the time, and smiles inwardly.

it seemed like you'd never changed.

"come in," he calls out.

the door creaks open, and your head peeks in first, your shoulders and the rest of your body obscured behind the polished wood.

"hey."

"good evening. was the bedroom not to your tastes?" he asks, something that sounded very similar to amusement lacing his voice.

embarrassment flickers across your face before your eyes narrow in defense. "no, you know exactly why i'm here. can i please stay?"

"you're very welcome to. come in," he repeats, already fixing the sheets and fluffing the pillows to your desired liking.

you finally step in, closing the door behind you and heading straight for his bed. he stifles a laugh when you flop down — ruining his handiwork — and pat the space next to you.

he complies, although he settles in much more gracefully. "i presume you were experiencing some difficulties falling asleep?"

"it's nothing new." you nod, throwing the duvet covers across both of you. it flutters down similar to a butterfly's ceasing wings, cocooning you together.

"you're aware that i am a licensed psychiatrist, right?"

"how could i ever forget your two doctorate degrees?" you snort, rolling your eyes playfully. "you only mention them like — all the time."

he chuckles, lightly pinching your nose. "do not play smart with me," he tuts fondly, evading your attempts to swat his hand away.

you tackle him into an embrace instead, which he reciprocates. when you've both quieted from your fit of laughter, his hand moves to rub circles on your shoulder blade.

"still, you know that i can help you with this." he urges, more earnestly now.

you shook your head. truth be told, your response is one he's already predicted, but it wouldn't hurt to try and convince you once more. convince you like he's done for several years already.

"you're my best friend. i don't want you to take a look inside my brain. that's just weird and scary," you'd whispered to him on an evening similar to this. only this time, the features he's long memorized on your face were a whole lot younger.

"why not?" vyn prods. "it wouldn't change anything."

"you can't promise that. not when there might be something truly wrong with me. or even worse, you'll bear witness to pieces of me that might lead you to regret ever becoming my friend."

'impossible. i adore you too deeply, and cherish our memories together too fondly, to ever consider any part of you unsightly,' he'd wanted to argue back then.

he only refrained from doing so and bit his tongue because that would mean upsetting the delicate thread in which your relationship hung.

it would mean crossing the line of platonic and leaving the safe barriers of "in-betweens". and vyn was not about to hastily gamble it all away with a poorly thought-out confession.

neither of you needed to say it aloud, but losing one another was yours, and his, greatest fear.

"nah, s'okay. i fall asleep just fine whenever i'm with you." you yawn, bringing him out of his fleeting flashback while you snuggle deeper into his side — far too close to be "just best friends".

"really now?" he murmurs, masking the satisfaction that fills his heart and threatens to bleed into his tone. he presses you closer to his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist, intent to hold you like he's done so, so many times before.

you hum, looking up at him one last time with a dazed smile on your face. "yeah. your bed is always much more comfortable than mine. maybe i should find one similar to yours."

or you can stay here, in my arms, forever, vyn thinks. he doesn't mind waking up with dead, aching, limbs for the rest of his life as long as your face was the first thing he woke up to each morning.

"sleep now," he tucks your head underneath his chin. "or else you'll keep me up all night with your rambling."

"you adore my rambling," you add petulantly.

even though you never said the words to each other, both of you knew.

"i do. now, rest. wake me if you must," vyn says over your head.

i love you.

"mhm. good night, vyn."

i love you too.

✦ byeol’s notes: just to be clear, these were submitted waaay before i closed my requests. i worked on this quite late since i wanted to prioritize my event first, so i apologize for the exremely long wait!

✦ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you and ily ♡

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cumulo-stratus · 6 months

Text

Love Like a Fathers

Request: Hello, hope you're having a good day/night, I was wondering if I could request Spencer x Father figure reader, theyre On a case the unsub tries to kill Spencer but reader protects him and gets hurt himself.

Pairing: platonic!Spencer reid x Father figure!reader

Summary: Y/n gets hurt protecting Spencer from an unsub, and y/n and spencer spend some time together at the hospital

warnings: cannon typical violence, gunshot wounds/blood, swearing, s1 spencer being an adorable little cutie-pie <3

A/N: Friend I'm so so so sry this has been a WIP for like month😭- I've had like no motivation to write :( thank you for the patience and for the lovely request, and although ive never written platonic for spencer, i did my best! btw the lovely dividers are by @cafekitsune (not proof read)

1.3k

Spencer Reid and Y/n L/n weren’t related by blood, but if you asked anyone that knew them- they would tell you that it doesnt matter. y/n treated spencer like the son he never had, and spencer treated y/n like the father he lost. Even if you didn’t know them, you could tell the pair were close. Spencers intellect bounced well of y/n’s wisdom. Hotch knew this, and often paired spencer with y/n because of it. And when they got called to a case in the small town of Trutney, Alabama, it was no different.

As soon as the plane landed l/n and reid had been paired off to go to the M.E.’s to look at the one body they had so far. And so the next 2 days went by as uneventfully as they could go on a case with the BAU. Interviews, and case files - take out around a conference table and calls to garcia- just a regular BAU case. Until the last day when they were sure they had the right guy; Daniel Wilson, he fit the profile perfectly. And so the team was spilt into 2 groups; one going to the house and one going to the workplace. Hotch sent y/n and spencer to the back knowing y/n would have spencers back if anything happened.

As they crept through the long hallways silently the pair would share glances every now and then. When they reached a split Y/n made a silent flick of his wrist ordering spencer to take the path to the right while y/n would take the path to the left. Y/n stalked down the hall with his gun raised leaving Spencer to do the same with the other hallway.

Y/n was clearing the final room at the end of the hall when the distant sound of grunting and a gun shot. Without another though y/n raced down the hall toward the continuous grunting yelping. Y/n just barely remembered to call for back up as he ran- Morgan's voice sounding through the phones speakers.

"What's up L/n-"

He was interrupted by y/n's out breath voice.

"I heard a shot from Reid's side of the house I need backup"

Before Morgan could respond y/n hung up, stuffing the phone in his back pocket. When y/n reached the source of the sounds, he found a door slightly ajar. He pushed it open all the way to find Spencer on the loop ground with the unsub above him. They were pushing against eachother trying sway the barrel of the gun in their favor. Spencer was trying to push the barrel away from his head while the unsub did the opposite. Without hesitation y/n crossed the room and grabbed the unsub roughly by his shoulders throwing him away from spencer. Spencer took no time at all the scramble away, his feet sliding as he fumbled to push himself away. Meanwhile y/n and the unsigned were in a struggle for the gun. And almost as if in slow mo, spencer saw a bullet leave the barrel and enter y/ns shoulder- right where his neck met his shoulders. The resounding bang that came with it caused spencers ears to ring. but caused everything to come back to normal speed was the second gunshot, from y/n to the unsubs chest. He fell to the ground, bleeding out.

“Spencer! spencer i need you to put pressure on the wound- okay?”

Despite the many filed first aid books he’d read, spencer couldnt recall a single bit of information- and was only listening y/n’s instructions.

“alright now use my sweater- ya its right over there. We need something to stop the bleeding-“

Y/n interrupted himself with small grunts and grimaces every time his shoulder moved. But luckily spencer was in it enough to properly use the sweater y/n had provided.

At this point spencers hands were soaked in blood, and so was the sweater. It was warm, and sticky- drying and cracking on the back of his hands. Just then Morgan came storming in, a mix of swat and paramedics trailing behind him. A paramedic took the sweater from spencer’s hands and he was pulled away by Morgan to checked out- despite his protests. spencer was quite insistent he stay with y/n but Morgan settled him enough to get checked out by telling him that he would be updated if anything happened.

Spencer stood in front of the open doors of an ambulance- restlessly wringing his hands together while an EMT patched the small gash on his forehead. Spencer had resisted saying anything about how he thought it was unnecessary- as it wasn’t even bleeding that much. But spencer knew better than to argue with Morgan at this point.

Spencer practically ran- which he didn’t do very often- to the nearest large black SUV. As he walked/ran across the lawn he called out to morgan.

“St. Mary’s right?”

“on 32nd street-“

spencer didnt allow morgan to finish- instead climbing into one of the FBI vehicles littering the street.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital burned spencers retinas as spoke the woman at the desk.

“excuse me where is Y/n L/n’s room?’

as he spoke, spencer drummed his fingers against the desk- anxious to see y/n. Make sure he was okay.

“Down the hall and to your left, room 328 sir”

Spencer barely managed a curt thank you and nod before he was speed walking down the hall. the lights in the hospital clashed with the stark white of the hall when spencer entered. They were dimmed to be only slightly brighter than the dark sky through the glass. spencer found y/n asleep soundly with a large bandage across his shoulder and butterfly bandages littering his exposed chest and face. Spencer could feel some of the weight lift off his shoulders when his eyes met y/ns closed ones.

----

Despite the dim light it still took effort for y/n keep his eyes open once he woke up. The first thing he noticed was sleeping form of Spencer draped over an uncomfortable looking chair. His back and neck were bent forward in what looked to be a not very comfortable position to sleep in.

Spencer stirred when y/n grunted quietly from the pain of sitting himself up. Spencer immediately rubbed the sleep from his eyes and went to help y/n, and as always y/n tried to tell Spencer he was fine and didn't need help. But y/n always made an exception for Spencer- especially he insisted with his innocent honey brown eyes.

"Spence I'm fine bud- come sit with me"

Y/n had a smile on his face and patted the spot next to him which he had now made by scooching over. Spencer shyly climbed up next y/n, his slacks and blazer looking out of place to the hospital gown y/n was wearing.

"You know you really scared me back there-"

Spencer was staring at his hands as he spoke- remembering the blood that had once coated them. Y/n took the opportunity to place a comforting comforting hand on Spencer's back, rubbing back and forth the way y/ns own family did.

"I know- but you can't rid of me that easily bud"

They both laughed lightly at that and instead of responding verbally Spencer leaned his head on y/ns shoulder, appreciating the warmth of y/ns excess internal heat. Spencer was often the one to take advantage of the human heater of a person y/n was. And this was one of those moments.

No more words were needed for the rest of the evening. They weren't needed for anything- the team could handle it (and it helped that Hotch knew how stressed Spencer was and let him know he could stay at the hospital with y/n).

And there; in the dimly lit hospital room, that smelled of disinfectant, Spencer felt more comforted than in his own home.

The End

Pls leave a like and a reblog!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #bau #cute #bau team #fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #Spencer reid x father figure! Reader #Platonic spencer #S1 Spencer #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds request #Request #requests open

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neonghostlights · 7 months

Note

hi ml, wondering if you’d write a drabble about eddie finding out reader has left, kind of like a part 2 to “this will never happen again”

totally up to you if you’d like to do that! no pressure or anything, i just really enjoyed reading it and i’d enjoy reading a second part<3

have a great day x

Hiii! So, I wasn't going to make a part two to this even though I've known how it ends since I wrote the first part. But...here it is. Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you enjoy this as much as the first part!

Part One

Warnings: Drunk/high Eddie, Crying, Angst, Heartbreak, Hurt/No comfort. Not a happy ending.

Wordcount: 1k

This Will Never Happen Again Part Two

Eddie knew this was wrong.

But there wasn’t much fight left in him with the way this hallway was spinning.

Him and her were fighting. Over you. Again.

She had to know this was where he would end up after she screamed at him to get out.

He was fucked up, utterly destroyed by whatever he got his hands on at The Hideout. It was the only way he could work up the bravery to face you every time his life crashed down on him like this.

He didn’t mean to get this far with her. As much as you and everyone else probably wouldn’t believe him if he tried to explain the way he fell into a serious relationship accidentally.

He just wanted to forget about you. You had been his friend forever and he knew he would never be good enough for you. Somehow instead of working up the courage to make a move on you he had made a move on her.

And here he was. Miserable.

She didn’t deserve to be with a man that loved his best friend. She deserved much better than him. He just couldn’t find it in him to end it with her. It would destroy her even though they fight like hell.

He turned around and went back to where he started. He had tried to count the doors in this hallway three times already. He knew the fifth one was yours but he kept miscounting.

Eventually, he reached the fifth door. Usually there was a cute doormat out to help him know he was at the right place but you must have taken it up for some reason. Maybe it got dirty and you were just washing it.

He pounded on the door, leaning his head up against it to help himself stand. He closed his eyes, trying to combat the wave of dizziness. He felt his cheeks started to grow wet. Reaching a single hand up he wiped away the tears dripping down his face sloppily.

He really needed to sit down.

He counted to three and started pounding again before pressing his ear against the door. Usually he would hear the shuffling of your feet as you walked to the door to greet him.

He thought back to the days where you would be happy to see him. He can’t remember the last time you smiled when you saw his face.

He raised his fist, beating on the door so much that he felt it vibrate.

A door opened from behind him and he turned, thinking that maybe he was knocking on the wrong door afterall.

But it was one of your neighbors in a bathrobe, looking very angry at him.

“Give it a rest. No one lives there,” she snapped, placing her hands on her hips.

Eddie shook his head, feeling his hair whip back and forth.

“N-No. My friend lives here,” he said, pointing at the door. “This is the fifth door right?”

The neighbor raised a brow at him. “Well, your friend doesn’t live there any more. She moved out earlier this week. Now knock it off before I call the police.”

Eddie scoffed as she slammed the door. She was wrong. You wouldn’t leave.

He pounded on the door some more and started screaming your name loudly. Maybe you had just taken a nap or run to the store for something.

And after a while of waiting, he realized that you weren’t coming to the door.

Eddie backed up some, stumbling into the wall behind him before he put all of his might into running forward and kicking your door.

He kept kicking and screaming until the cops finally showed up.

—-

It had been six months since you left Hawkins and you found yourself fitting into your new life well. You liked your job and had even gotten close enough with some of your coworkers to start hanging out with each other after work too.

You liked your new apartment better than your last too. There wasn’t a draft or any leaky faucets which was a win in your book.

The only thing that sucked was the fact that Eddie wasn’t here to see it or to share in your wins too. You found yourself missing him a lot, wanting to call him when something good or bad happened.

But you needed to stay strong. This was what was best for the both of you.

Some nights you stayed up listening for him, wondering if he would ever find you and apologize for everything. In your daydreams, he would pull you into his arms as soon as you opened the door. He would be sober and in the right state of mind to confess his love for you.

But that hadn’t happened.

Yet.

You had to run to the post office in town to finally collect your mail from the PO box you had held onto for some reason. You hadn’t been there to pick up any mail since you moved, but you figured it was time to cut your last tie to that town.

You collapsed on the couch, kicking your feet up on the coffee table before you as you flipped through your mail absentmindedly. Old junk greeted you which you tossed into a pile on the couch cushion beside you to deal with later. .

A nicer envelope had you pausing before you tossed it to your side.

Your name was written on the front in familiar, scratchy handwriting that you knew belonged to Wayne Munson.

Dread filled your stomach as you tore open the back of the envelope and held the card in front of your face.

You re-read the words a hundred times before jumping up and running to the bedroom. You didn’t even make it to the bed before your knees hit the floor. You choked out a sob into your hands as you rocked yourself back and forth, letting your heart break as you replayed the words written on that card in your mind.

Wayne had sent that to you on purpose. Either as a beg or a reminder of what was waiting for you back in Hawkins. He was smart.

But even an invitation to Eddie’s wedding wouldn't be enough to make you come back. No matter how much it hurt.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson request #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot

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aclowntiny · 8 months

Text

Black Flag, Black Hearts? Falling for Pirate!Ateez (Meeting Pirate!Ateez Part 2- Female Reader)

One (1) request for part 2 was all it was going to take to continue one of my favorite pieces hehe… but I got 2 🥲🥹 hope y’all enjoy this one too! 🏴‍☠️ plenty more where this AU came from 😉

Warnings: suggestive content, a little more gun mention this time, some violence, blood, death implication

☠Hongjoong☠

As breath returned to your body and pain subsided, you were held to no debt. Should have known, really, that the thieves robbing thieves sought not to use a life as a transaction. Legend had gotten the best of you once and you dared not repeat that.

For your own honor, honor far beyond that of the so-called law, it seemed fit for a thanks, though. Fit for some token of gratitude immeasurable, for how does one quantify life? Your tavern was ash beside, so what tether had you to the land? No job, no marriage, not even a debt to escape. Much as you might miss a few polite regulars, it was likely you could disappear unnoticed.

And disappear you did, shoving off with the Eightfold as the new cook. One of the others bore the mantel for some time, bid you share it with him for his own joy, but their captain insisted you were far better suited for it. From what you knew of men, that could easily prove true.

Bringing a woman aboard, necessity though it may have been, proved great fun for the raucous middle-mates, as you called them. Not the youngest, not the eldest, just dreadfully, wonderfully boisterous people the likes of whom always got feet stomping back in the tavern.

And stomp feet they did, insisting you must dance with them after so long a drought of partners to reel or otherwise with atop the waves. You were earning your sea legs, wondering if you might have a tilt akin to theirs at your next port stop, so why not challenge yourself with a dance or three?

Skirts in hand, you circled Mingi, who had laughingly unbuckled his pistol belt at your wary glance. Too many a shot had drunkenly or exuberantly fired into a floorboard or a foot for you not to. The tall gunslinger danced like Old Man Jo's hound dog, unaware of strength that could bowl a woman over, but far too kind to wish that. The pair of you laughed a lot before you were handed off to San, who took you gently by the hands and spun you with delicate care, reminding you more of the sweet childhood cat that used to curl at your side whenever you took ill or cried. What a whirlwind before you, nearly a stitch in your chest, got passed to Wooyoung, who found a nice middle ground between push-and-pull and treating you like glass, but coupled with the unfortunate side effect of being a little handsier than necessary, his grip sliding lower on your hip.

And that, that was when you saw it. Like a shadow, a falcon poised for an elegant, precise swoop, your dance partner's Captain stood glaring, stare intense as every wanted poster that had crossed your path made it out to be. Spine tingling as it was wont to do at that look, you found your attention transfixed upon Hongjoong as he strode up to Wooyoung, authority resounding in each strike of his boots. Wooyoung smiled, somehow half proudly and half sheepishly, a wave crashed, and still glaring Hongjoong gave a jerk of his head and a few quiet words that had his junior scurrying off.

Then he was before you, entire affect altered, face a sole mask of concern. It was as if you peered into completely different eyes. "I told him not to touch you like that," he told you, voice dark only as you'd heard once before, just on that fateful night you thought you'd met your end, "he shouldn't dare."

Serious as the captain sounded, you couldn't help smiling. "Thank you. Don't be too hard on him, though, I've dealt with worse. Think he just forgot himself. Why don't you show him how it's done, then?"

That earned you a slightly cocky grin, that satisfied look you frankly couldn't get enough of. "With pleasure. May I, then?”

His hands hovered until you nodded, then one took yours and the other held your waist, this time far more proper than his predecessor’s hold. You had nothing to compare this dance to, no parallel of memory to the way Hongjoong made you feel.

“This moonlight becomes you,” he remarked quietly, “becomes you far more than galley lamps. You are our Diana then.”

Goddess of the moon. The moon which did hang like a great wide monocular gaze over your dance, the way your hand reflexively tightened over Hongjoong’s shoulder at the return of his honeyed words. “You think so highly of me?” Was all you could ask, surprisement coloring your face and tone alike.

“Suppose I need to get better at showing it,” Hongjoong joked in response, but something stirred in his gaze that confirmed it better than words.

Since that night, Hongjoong spent more time than ever in the galley, playing guessing games with you about your destination and playfully rolling his eyes when you made the man stop and eat something for once.

“What can I say,” you shot back at his teasing smile, “I’m trying to get better at showing it, too.”

☠Seonghwa☠

Your sack was as full of little trinkets-and even a bit of new clothing-as your heart was apprehension. Every thud of your soles upon the planks of the dock, then the ship, echoed beats of your heart. Live on as you may, nothing could have properly prepared you that morning for the fact that there was no return to your old life, that a gentleman claiming to be a pirate would whisk you away to his ship.

Upon setting foot upon the deck, Seonghwa undid your handkerchief, revealing his handsome face as he handed it back, and clapped a hand to the shoulder of another man, this one tall, smiling, and a bit fair.

Said man nodded your way, shocking you with as friendly a smile as you had ever seen. “And who might this be?”

“My name,” you answered, internally cursing the small voice such apprehension had produced, “is (y/n). I took interest in your First Mate’s cartography.”

“She has an interest in all the arts, it seems,” Seonghwa added, a touch of pride coloring his voice, “I saw the way she admired weaving, blown glass…”

The other man tilted his head, still smiling. “Oh, really? Well, have you any skills in its study along with your valuation our captain will take quite a liking to you.” So the ship did not belong to him.

You swallowed, shuffling a bit forward from Seonghwa’s side, feeling the sudden absence of warmth there. “Are you art thieves, then?”

“In a manner of speaking,” another voice rang at your back, several bootfalls following it.

Turning on your heels, skirts swirling about your feet, you were faced with the intense gaze and proud smile of a man in a long, billowing black jacket, a gold pin shining upon its lapel. The designs on his waistcoat were intricate yet sharp, clearly hand-painted. Perhaps he’d stolen that too.

“For what does my First Mate bring you here?” Imposing words, yet with a tone clearly meant to put you at ease.

“For my love of the arts, it seems,” you replied, trying your best to look the man you took to be Captain in the eyes, “my question stands if it may: are you art thieves?”

The captain’s hand fully left his side, dropping your heart at the realization he likely concealed a blade there. “Have you heard what happened to the Egyptians? Their craftsmanship scooped up to line the halls of the rich. The great monarchs of the world with their hoards of untouched advancement? Creations returned to their creators. Wealth in the hands of the poor. Do you call that an art thief?” He looked quite satisfied at the dropping of your jaw.

“I call that right. The- the authorities say you kill and pillage.”

“Of course they do,” Seonghwa chimed in with a snort, “they want you to turn us in, do they not? I beg your pardon, ma’am, but you see why I say stories are to be doubted.”

“I do,” you nodded, “but I am no thief, just an admirer.”

“Could you identify a fake if you laid eyes upon it?”

“A counterfeit?”

“I suppose I could try. My art education is not exactly extensive, but if I cannot return home, at least I can continue it still.”

“Then it is settled. Excellent recruit, Seonghwa,” the Captain said, “go make sure she is comfortable.”

“You have so many wonderful things, Seonghwa. Are they gifts?”

The First Mate had led you down a hatch, down a set of stairs into a cozy little wood space that reminded you faintly of a hayloft. There was a bed already, a mattress draped with a quilt bearing some traditional pattern you didn’t quite recognize, likely a gift from travels prior. He helped you set your assortment of glass animals upon the claw-footed chest-of-drawers that sat against the wall across from the bed, even dusting off the looking glass for you. You’d remarked that it was a nice room-a lamp was already set upon the nightstand and a painting on the wall- but a mite lonely, so Seonghwa showed you his quarters across the hall. Jointed figures of wood covered one dresser, several ships in bottles resting in various places upon his bookshelf.

“Some of them, yes. The fine carvings are gifts, the cruder ones my own attempts,” he chuckled, “assembling a ship in a bottle is about all I’m good for.”

“And how does one do that?” You asked.

He’d sat you down on one side of a little table, his seat shuffled right at your side. Bits and pieces of tiny masts and sails were scattered about. You saw a tiny wheel, the smallest seagulls you’d ever laid eyes upon, all resting upon the finely stained wood. Picking up a pair of very long, thin tools, Seonghwa slid the bottle closer between you. “Very carefully.”

His smile made you smile, leaning in to watch him assemble it all. He named every piece of the ship, taught you which was port and starboard, pointed out the carven mermaid figurehead of the ship. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Look closer. She looks a lot like you.”

Your lips parted, failing to form words as heat crept across your cheeks. Suddenly you were quite thankful for the oil lamp’s safe distance from all the wooden bits and bobs. The legends certainly were lies, for never had you felt more comfortable, any safer, than at the table of a pirate.

☠Yunho☠

"Another round, then, on me!" One of the Eight, the one who seemed most worthy of being Captain beside the man in the gold pin himself, called out to the almost creakingly full table, raising his tankard heartily.

"I believe you mean on me, Jongho," you replied, plucking the intricately filigreed mug from his hand and grabbing his neighbor San's too, turning the smooth fired rim in your hand.

Some months ago your inherited estate had been a dull, lonely cave of finery, joy of almost every dress and other beautiful thing you had inherited gone at the loss of family and company that had befallen you alongside it. What care had you for silken curtains hanging in a parlor no one sat in or a grand piano with no audience? Indeed, the sea was your greatest companion, solitude drowned out by whistling wind, crashing waves, and the sensation of feet upon sand. Such forces of nature offered much greater solace from your thoughts than anything of mankind, yet utterly void of their touch.

Now those once-consuming thoughts were but a laughable memory. Raucous song filled your parlor and kegs of ale your cellar lest the Eightfold arrive after a drop at their hollow on your beach, filling their cave with yet another chest of gold and stolen riches before making their way to you, presenting you with beachside finds and the odd gifted artifact, often a figurine for your many surfaces and shadowboxes.

"You're wearing a new dress every time we see you," another pirate, this one by the name of Wooyoung, remarked.

"I was given so many," you replied from your countertop, shrugging as you filled the two mugs.

"And jewelry, no doubt."

"Why," you shot back, reentering the dining room with a careful grip upon the now foam-topped vessels, dodging a flying arm punch between pirates, "do you plan to rob me after all this time?"

"No, I was just wondering why with all you've got you wear those silly shells about your wrist every single day."

As you laid your cargo down your eyes instinctively fell to the string of small orange shells Yunho had made you the day you met, then flicked to the pirate himself. "Perhaps it is important to me," you replied, nose in the air and heart in your throat.

Clearing some plates off the table and straightening the lace runner was supposed to distract you, but of their own accord your eyes fell to Yunho, whose gaze rested solely upon you. Hurrying, you shuffled to the kitchen, setting the plates aside the basin with the rest.

When all was said and done for your meal, you returned to the parlor for song, caring not for whatever sand tracked into the flowered carpet. You could clean. Passing through the doorway, you heard the voices of the young men squabbling over whose turn at the piano it was.

"Let me, please, I've a good one," you heard Yunho request, voice a soft plea to the others' raised bickers, "and I believe I still owe our hostess, all things considered."

"He is right, you know," you chimed in from your lean upon the threshold, arms crossed, “did he tell you the tale?”

"Ha!" Taking the bench and apparently ignoring the nature of the tale, which involved his blade upon your throat, Yunho swatted the two men on either side of him upon the head with the backs of his hands and began to play.

No shock was it for a man with hands like that to be adept at playing the piano. Nor the sweetness of his voice, the likes of which you'd been graced with prior, even if it was chorusing a shanty. The words he sang, however, raised brows.

From a sailor's perspective, the whole of it was a lament of missing a woman while upon the sea, and missing her dearly. Yunho charmed the keys and poured out genuine emotion with every note of his sweet voice, bidding you wonder if he’d had a woman at port the whole time.

Everyone applauded him, naturally, when he finished, but as he rose from the bench and urged Seonghwa forward in his stead, again his eyes fell upon you.

“Who is she, this woman who charms such shanties out of you? Not a pirate queen, it seems?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow and straightening your brooch.

“I plan to make one of her yet. She certainly has no fear of making a mess of herself at the sea’s edge. I’ve never seen a smile like hers, but she’ll set a man straight if she wants to. She flew a kite with me once, and that was how I knew it would be murder stepping off her shores again.”

You’d flown kites together the previous month. He hadn’t one before, yours a gift to him. “Has she any token of her sailor?” You asked, swallowing and taking a step closer, lest you misread the man who’d made you a string of shells, run a hand over it every time you danced- and that was certainly much more than with any other crewmate.

At that, Yunho lifted your hand up by the wrist, presenting those same beads of nature you never had the heart to go without. They were as a sign to you- a sign you were never truly to be without companionship again. His hand held yours so gently, like a gentleman, before he placed a kiss to the back of it.

“From the moment I met her, I knew I couldn’t leave her without her wearing some sign of me. Aren’t I selfish?” He smiled, looking for all the world like a proud, mischievous boy you couldn’t quite bring yourself to discipline. “What a pirate. Even from an apology I seek something for myself.”

“Funny, my pirate is always saying his riches don’t belong to him. Saying things like he and his friends have rebuilt half of Seonghwa’s hometown with the money that had been fattening kings.”

“Your pirate, hm?” Yunho gazed into your eyes, fluttering his lashes as he brought your hand closer, pulling it near his chest, your face warming with the gesture. “I like the sound of that. Do you think of me, then, as I think of you?”

“I feel as though I am counting the days until your return,” you admit with a flush.

“Then let us be as otters on the sea, always holding each other afloat,” Yunho whispered, leaning to press a kiss to your lips, soft, chaste, and yet loving enough to spin your head, “come with me. You are more than a lady at the dock- I would have you by my side.”

☠Yeosang☠

You said yes.

Water lapped at the sides of the boat, swaying it comfortingly. The Captain had looked upon Yeosang with surprise, then some degree of annoyance, as they spoke outside of your earshot, but the moment he dubbed you a jeweler it was all smiles.

You’d have assignments before you knew it, but such would come to pass seemingly ages after the moment’s heaven. Shrugging the covers higher, you shuddered under the chill of untouched silk upon warm skin.

"Cold?" Yeosang slipped a bit closer, a hand running up and down your upper arm.

"Faintly," you replied, lashes fluttering into your gaze upon his visage, obscuring the beautiful candlelit image.

"Well, is it any small wonder? You've no clothes on!"

"I wonder who did that," you teased.

"I wonder," Yeosang repeated, smiling and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Nestling into the crook of his arm, you chuckled contentedly, gaze briefly flicking up to the crisscrossing of rafters making possible your hazy shelter. Glancing to the side, you caught a faraway look in Yeosang’s eyes as he gazed upon you, one you internally, half-jokingly, hoped was not regret.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked.

He flushed. No getting shy now, you wanted to say.

“I-I was wondering,” he began, trailing off sheepishly.

You loved that about him- such a man, and yet sweet as a lamb. What a wonderful contradiction.

“Yes?” You prompted.

“Now that we are nine,” Yeosang continued, shifting slightly beneath the covers, “will you…will you stay in my quarters?”

It was your turn to feel heat rising to your cheeks. So soon he wished that? Perhaps you should have been scared, but every risk you had taken, even leaving your hometown behind, had done nothing but excite and content you. All you felt was flattered, joyed, satisfied that you truly had made the pirate in the tavern yours.

“If you wish it, I will gladly stay here,” you replied with a smile, voice barely above a whisper.

“Huzzah!” He exclaimed quietly, hands balling into little fists about the sheets as he smiled widely. “It gets lonely in here, you know. But now I have the finest company of all.”

Your heart beat rapidly. “You shall also have the highest traffic- everyone will need the work of the jeweler’s daughter ere we know it,” you teased.

“Well,” Yeosang loosened one of his hands, sliding it beneath both layers of the blankets and sheets to take yours, giving it a squeeze, “that is a hazard I gladly accept.”

☠San☠

"I do care. I care to make new of my life," you told San, "for though you say you are wanted I see nothing but a good man. What place would your crew have for a shoe-shine girl?”

“You, Miss (y/n), are far more than that. The fact that you see the good in others is refreshing alone. Sometimes simplicities like that are forgotten in my line of work. I try to keep to them myself. When I saw you, I saw what I seek to be,” San replied, “if you join my crew, I can promise a home. I can promise adventure. But I cannot promise you freedom from things that could shatter the wonder in your eyes. Piracy is no easy job.”

Perhaps a part of you wanted to hear that word, but still your chest clenched, hand tightening slightly too around the note you held out, wind fluttering your hair. An eerie stillness resided within it, still an absence of passersby. The man before you truly was no ordinary sailor.

“When you say you want to give back to a place like this…” You began, trailing off beneath San’s intense gaze.

“We steal. We do,” San answered matter-of-factly, surely steeled in spite of any fanciful idealism, “but we have plenty. Towns like this? Places where priceless artifacts are stolen as trinkets or spectacles? Some thievery only rights thievery.”

He truly cut a dashing figure, trim and noble and a quiet sort of bold. Folly or not, you believed the man who showed you the kindness of a new life, be it in simple prosperity or adventure. Adventure of spying your first breaching of dolphins or tasting the fruit of a neighboring land, of unlocking some stolen artifact or even fighting burly men off your friend who’d started a barfight. Swinging off a ship’s rope. All the stories San had regaled you with as you shined his boots.

“I want to go with you.”

Humanity, not pity, was truly the way of the Eightfold. Not a one treated you like a stray they'd adopted off the streets, not like the people with high noses of your former home. You, rather, were an opportunity.

They all smiled at the way your eyes widened at the boat's rocking. Never had you been adrift before. Two of them climbed you up to the crow's nest and you, fighting off the shudderings of fear at the newfound height, leaned out over the glittering expanse, feeling as a bird or the north wind herself. And sure were they that your greatest skill would be found in no time. You'd offered to swab the deck, but San was insistent you'd done enough cleaning for now.

"We can make Mingi do that," he teased the tall, sharp-eyed marksman who'd surprised you with a boyish love of attention, nodding his way.

"Oi!" Mingi started up after him, pointing at the man who'd helped you decorate your new quarters. "Let Seonghwa keep doing it, he's the only one that likes it."

"I don't like it, I'm the only one who does it right!"

"Boys, boys," the captain held out hands, grinning in amusement, "you'll all have a turn at the deck, don't you worry. As for (y/n), San is right. She's more than earned something new."

'Something new' came in the form of another nerve-wracking crow's nest climb, steep ramps of fear with each hand over the other, and yet such a great reward. Stars now provided shine to the roiling sea, night sky reflecting it an inky black besides.

"Takes my breath away every time," San muttered at your side, looking at the water as if the stars weren't already in his widened eyes.

"I can imagine. Why do we come out here so late, though?"

"'Tis time for sextant training," San replied with a smile.

"Time for what?" You burst out in response, eyes flicking away from his back to the sea-never off the bottom of the crow's nest again, that was a one-time mistake-as your face rapidly warmed.

From your vision's peripheries, San held up a brass instrument boasting a pair of mirrors. "This, Miss (y/n), is how we find ourselves. Celestial bodies help us determine our location," he replied, gentle tone greatly contrasting yours. If he was surprised by the raising of your voice, such puzzlement remained with him.

"Very well," you replied, perhaps a bit too hastily, "let me see how it works."

You were a natural with the navigation device, an expert. Well, according to San, who convinced Captain Hongjoong that his shoe-shine girl was a perfect navigator. The sweet words he always had for you, the 'my' added to your old nickname, that one smile it seemed he reserved for you, well, it all accumulated in your heart like grains of sand lodged within an oyster, ever mindful of their presence. Grains rapidly expanding, shining into pearls.

San and you were to pose as an aristocrat couple, the rest of his crew having procured fine clothes from their stock. The dress they gave you was so beautiful, finer silk than had ever touched your skin, that you sat and simply admired it for a moment before even dressing. The pink fabric hugged your body perfectly, accentuating your figure far beyond what you could have ever imagined, even if the low neckline of current vogue had you flushing a bit. Then in came San, reflected in the looking glass as he cut a dashing figure in a tailored suit complete with a delicately embroidered waistcoat. Surely your eyes lingered a bit too long, but you could nary help yourself as he made purposeful strides to your side.

As you rose, rotating to face him, his mouth fell agape, lips parting in…shock?

“Quite different from my usual rags, is this not?” You joked in response.

“You look beautiful,” San breathed, his next step slower, almost reverent, “but it needs one final touch. Do you have my gift?” This time, his tone was a bit shy.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, making the short way to your dresser where you’d wrapped it up for safekeeping and procuring it, “right here.”

“If- if you’d be all right with it,” San said, “please keep that as your spoil. We pirates keep a sign of our first plunder, and though this was a gift, I would be so happy to see you wear it as such.”

Your eyes fell to the dripping gems, topaz alternating between classic yellow and the pink that perfectly matched the gown left at your door. No woman that you could imagine would have denied such elegant craftsmanship, such shine adorning her chest, but San’s expression was so deadly serious, so searching, that that would have been enough.

You nodded, giving a smile you hoped to be reassuring. “Of course, San.”

He broke out into the widest look of joy and flooding relief you’d ever seen, as though someone had just told him all his debts were paid. “Then let me put it on you,” he continued, rushing over to your side once more and gently lifting the necklace from your hands.

His hands shook, yet his fingers, surely trained from their reliefs of spoils, deftly clasped the chain about you as they gently, warmly, brushed your skin. From your peripheries you saw him tilt his head, and something in you bid you turn. You did, meeting him there as your lips connected, San’s holding yours, guiding them so softly he might have thought them glass. Your chest burst triumphantly, as if those fireworks your old home’s mayor had brought in to launch off the docks from China had been lit within your soaring heart.

There was that look again, that dimpled smile of pure joy, those eyes softened as they met yours, when San finally straightened again, parting with the sweet sorrow of old. “Well, it looks like we’ll play this couple role well tonight, won’t we?”

All you could do was nod, heart fluttering as he took your hand, leading you from your room as one might a bride, pearls in your heart glistening like the rainbows of a renewed sky.

☠Mingi☠

The first thing you did was strip your corset off.

Mingi had spirited you away to his quarters while he sought to go, in his words, “explain you”. He was almost naively confident that you would be accepted, leaving you to your own devices in his space with ease. Before leaving, he had dropped a pair of trousers that might fit you on his hammock, the whimsical waving space where he took his rest. Thank the stars, they fit, lacing up at the front like the reverse of your horrendous undergarments and actually allowing you to-shock of shocks!- loosen them as needed.

There was a long scroll of paper hanging by a nail on the wall. It was plain white save for strokes of ink down its surface, gorgeous brushstrokes of calligraphy. Brushing your fingers against the bottom of it, you wondered whose delicate hand might have drawn it. As it was, you were dressed and Mingi hadn’t exactly bidden you wait any certain amount of time, so you creaked your way back up the steps and onto the deck, seal ring hanging in scornful display about your chest.

The pirate had leant you trousers, knee-high boots, and a white tunic to tuck in, and while you felt a bit self-conscious at the open chest a part of you smiled. This would have had the aristocratic courts you’d been thrust in you fainting at the sight-even showing a bit of ankle was a bit unseemly, yet there you were. What a relief it was to stride in trousers, let a little skin breathe.

You almost walked into Mingi in your reverie, stopping just short of a collision as he excitedly announced you’d made the crew a Ninefold.

“I have? Your captain is letting me stay, then?”

Mingi didn’t answer, just stood stock still, jaw falling a bit open. The only sound around you was the breeze, a lone seagull calling out from the clouds.

“Mingi?”

He shook his head, a sudden jerking motion. “My apologies. I just…” His expression turned sheepish, back to that kind look that initially endeared you. “I thought you were pretty before, but wow…”

The compliment, that kind smile, the sheer innocence, all had your heart turning over. What sort of feeling was that?

“Selfishly I am quite glad you chose learning to shoot.”

Mingi had set up something of a shooting gallery for you, the crew’s entirety having insisted upon your learning some form of combative measures for defense at least. Being unsure as you were regarding your readiness for the brutality of the sword, you felt it a clear choice: learn to shoot. The tall pirate who had rescued you, if doing the opposite to your unfortunate boor of a betrothed and his companions who attempted a foolish fight, was the ship’s adept with firearms, handing you the very same revolver which had killed your near-captor.

It was heavy in your hand, both physically and in the most literary of senses, as if you yourself had now borne the weight of a life ended. The weapon had beautiful mother-of-pearl inlays decorating its wood, metal shined freshly. Mingi clearly cared for the things, and quite dashing they were up close.

“Now, remember, no finger on the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Aim for the box there,” Mingi pointed, guiding you toward an old broken crate he’d propped on a barrel, assuring you it was trash anyway.

Willing your hand not to shake, you held up a revolver in both hands, aiming at the crate before your index finger slid to the trigger, pulling it back. You knew it was coming and yet the kick had you stumbling. Your first shot was a bit low, striking the upper edge of the barrel. Of course you apologized, but Mingi just laughed and waved a hand, flashing you that wonderfully kind grin.

“Here, let me help you aim,” he told you as he stepped behind you, standing flush to your back and taking hold of your elbow, sliding his hand up as he stayed your arm.

Haze descended into every crevasse of your brain at the warmth of his hip against yours, thicker than that day he’d paid you compliment. His words had made you a fool…

“Alright, (y/n), now!”

BANG!

“That’s my girl!” Turning you around, this time with hands upon your hips, Mingi smiled right into your haze, sea breeze ruffling his hair and whipping through yours.

You grinned back, leaping for joy beneath his hold. A fool you were to be, but an accurate one yet.

☠Wooyoung☠

You slapped the hand of the pirate who called himself Wooyoung off the curve of your waist as he strode triumphantly out of the tavern with you.

“Quit that, you’re not taking me home,” you chided.

He grinned. “I live on the ship. I’m taking you to the ship.”

“To speak with your Captain. See if he’s even got the room for me you think he does.”

“If you’re half as vicious in a fight, he will indeed.”

“You seem to think me quite a fighter for someone with no proof,” you teased.

“We could always wrestle.”

Another slap, this one markedly softer than the last, though. You shook your head, fighting a smile as you crossed the streets, inching ever closer to the docks, the waves surrounding your hometown. Night had closed firmly in upon the patchwork of angles and shingles that were your mess of a birthplace, casting shadows from every eave you passed beneath. Soon, though, you made your way upon the dock, Wooyoung walking you up to the side of a ship bearing the black flag. You knew your ramshackle town was quite friendly with outlaws, but it still rose an eyebrow how bold this man Wooyoung and his crew flaunted their thievery.

“Here we are,” said pirate waved a braceleted hand at the ship’s gangplank, allowing you to lift your skirt and tap up it first, “home sweet home.”

No sooner had you set foot upon the deck than did a voice ring out at your side, another pirate emerging from the shadows. “I know you threatened to find a tavern girl to take home, Wooyoung, but have some class. Is that fair to her?”

No man cowed you anymore. You stepped right over to him, pointed-heel boots thudding upon wood hollower than that of your workplace. “I am only here to speak to your Captain. Nothing more, nothing less. If anyone conquers anyone, it shall be me to his false bravado,” you told the pirate, nodding back to the man you’d danced with.

“He’s a good man beneath it all,” the dark-haired pirate all but whispered.

“I suspected,” you replied. For all Wooyoung’s talk, he held you gently, swayed you merrily, treated you like a far finer thing than a night. Something in him must have thought it unfitting for a man in his position or else found it entertaining. Honestly, likely the latter. “He wishes to make a pirate queen out of a hellhole’s barmaid,” you chuckled, “No one has ever helped me before.”

“He sees something special in you, and I can see why. Welcome to the Eightfold.”

“If your Captain consents,” you shot back.

“I do,” the man who’d melted from the shadows grinned, fingers reaching up to a gold jolly roger pin upon the lapel of his flowing jacket, clearly some symbol of status, “you’ve much spirit indeed, Miss.”

You were willing to throw a punch and knew how to prepare the odd fruit the Eightfold had two crates of, and that was good enough for them. They all insisted you were a worthy recruit for quelling barfights alone. Flattering. At least they made good on their promise to get you a sword. The thing felt good in your hand, that much more satisfying than the knife you'd already hidden for the journey to the ship.

Ever an authority of insistence, Wooyoung pushed for his crew to throw a little party to welcome you. Likely an excuse to swing you around the deck, you reflected with a smirk.

Sure enough, as three of his crewmates procured instruments, he bowed like a gentleman at some high-class affair and offered his hand. "May I show our pirate queen a good time?"

You took it. "You may, though I'll stick with 'newest member' for now."

The pair of you stepped in a merry circle to kick off the first upbeat dance before Wooyoung wrapped a hand around your waist from the side, ready to whirl. "Funny, I'd have said 'best looking'," he shot back.

"Oh? That's not you, my daring highwayman?"

You spied a quite unfamiliar bashfulness creep through Wooyoung's smile, his stark gaze dropping a bit beneath the repetition of tunes and the crashing of small waves and the stomping of boots. The look lasted but a moment, replaced by the old standby of wicked fun. "Highwayman? High-seas-man, perhaps!"

"However you like to fancy yourself," you replied, smiling back despite your words.

You'll give the man that: the neverending battle of wits made for good fun, flowing as much a force of nature for you as those surging waves. He was a good dancer, too.

No sooner had you thought that then did the push and pull and twirl overtake, your feet quite literally being swept off as you were dipped low to the deck, a hand instinctively moving to Wooyoung's chest to stabilize yourself. The vee of his tunic was quite deep, your balancing act catching far more of him than of fabric. Another thing he had in his favor, you reflected as your dance partner slid a hand to the back of your head, angling you a bit lower in the process. He leaned a bit further in, nose almost touching yours.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you spoke, voice low. "Not with everyone watching," you told him, pushing back up on his chest in a way that had him standing you back up as the notes faded out into the night's wind.

As you sauntered off to fetch a drink, you caught Wooyoung's eyes following you even more intensely, chest blooming and lips rising with satisfaction.

☠Jongho☠

He’d offered his arm and you’d taken it. A stroll like two lovers meeting, and yet you were leading a pirate to aid in robbing your gracious host. Resisting a dark chuckle, you simply exhaled, giving a little shake of your head. Nothing like you'd expected of the fine evening.

Jongho hummed at your side, tilting his head in question as you passed beneath parted velvet curtains through a columned doorway out to the garden path.

"This is simply...not what I expected of the evening," you spoke into his silent query.

“You can always turn back,” he offered, still looking imperceptibly matter-of-fact.

At that, you shook your head. “Not now. This is an opportunity to be a part of something. To have purpose beyond another. I think maybe that is a better step than falling in love first.”

At that, Jongho smiled, leading you further until you stopped beneath a silver trellis, where three other men stood. “I agree. Well, I say here should be a fair stop. I thank you for-” He froze, grip loosening on your arm.

Following his gaze, you saw another man, fair-haired and finely dressed, standing only about two metres off, an azalea bush only slightly obscuring him. “Not one of your others, is he?”

Jongho shook his head.

“What should we do?” You asked quietly.

Another of Jongho’s men, a tall figure with dark hair and a blade sheathed at his side, replied from the ivy-covered rendezvous point. “If we had something to knock him out with, maybe he’d forget what he saw long enough for us to leave.”

You had heard of that- all it took was a great enough weight, right? Stooping as much as your dress allowed, you hoisted up a little marble statue of a cherub seated on a little pedestal, book in hand. “This should do, right?”

Another of the men, this one with shining black bangs like curtains, nodded and smiled impishly. The tall gentleman-er, pirate- with the blade began a nod, then his entire countenance, face and posture, faded into shock as you lunged forward, knocking the angel into the man’s head and sending him falling backwards. Your stomach heaved at the crimson rivulet streaming from where he lie, hands shooting to your face.

“Is he- Did I..?” Your voice rose barely above a whisper as the carven angel, now dripping with blood, clattered onto a tile from your loosening fingers.

"We need to run," Jongho said, taking hold of your wrist this time as he shuffled through the trellis, "all of us."

"But wait-" You protested beneath his careful hold, running on instinct in an attempt to keep up with the rapid pumping of his legs, barely avoiding catching your skirts.

"If anyone sees that you did that, you could be hanged as a m-" The third man, one with wide, innocent eyes, spoke up, words quite in contrast to his demeanor.

"That's enough," Jongho cut him off, still plodding down the tile trail past the home's prize rosebushes, "(y/n), this place is not safe for you. Run away with us."

You felt sick, but your heart fluttered- out of nerves or excitement, you could hardly tell. All you did was nod weakly, chest burning with heavy breaths from your sprint out the garden gate with four men you barely knew.

Guilt wound its way through your chest like a cold snake at what transpired in the garden that night, and yet you found comfort in the pirates who had whisked you to their ship. Being the Eightfold, there were four others beside Jongho and the three who'd looted your hosts that evening, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa. Mingi, another tall, imposing pirate, removed his wide-brimmed hat and held it as his chest.

"The first one is always the hardest," he said, and in his tone rested clouds of such a deep sadness that you could nary even question his meaning.

The men gave you such a royal welcome, distracting you with rousing song and dance and more questions and stories than your head could spin at. They’d brought an octopus on deck, taught you how to play tavern card games no lady would have dared touch at home, and hosted a mock trial with Jongho presiding as judge when First Mate Seonghwa ‘tried Captain Hongjoong for high piracy’. You’d expected Jongho to play a serious judge, yet his character broke his dry persona by playing with his gavel and shouting at inopportune times. They saw the way you still balked at sparring, however.

"Do you regret it?" Jongho asked you one day, striding to your side and joining you in leaning upon the edge of the ship, watching the passage of white-capped waves.

“Of course I do. I was so caught up in the moment, I had no inkling I- I- something like that could come of my hand. But I think what I regret more was the faint part of me that enjoyed it. Something completely untouched, utterly foreign woke in me and rushed through my veins and I fear what could come of releasing it again.”

You heard Jongho inhale at your side, felt his exhale faintly against you with the brush of his tunic upon your own shirt. “I will tell you this: we pirates at least never kill without a very, very good reason. And what you did, you did not realize. It was not so in your heart. You were afraid, had just seen a fight, felt for the first time in your life you had something to defend. Would you not say?”

You stared into the shine of Jongho’s deep eyes. He spoke so closely into your mind, it was as if he had been there himself. The waves surrounding you drowned out your emotion, grounded your tears with swirls far more powerful than you could ever truly comprehend. He was right. All your life, you had been taught to seek something to hold onto. In your upbringing, that had been someone else, the security of a man, a fortuitous marriage. An education perhaps, were you feeling any inclination to teach in a prestigious field. Anything to increase the size of your twinkle in society’s eyes. Never fighting to take care of your life. Never to find what it was you wanted. Certainly not learning how to fish just because the fancy had taken you and a crewmate on a still day. All of this came pouring forth from your heart to your lips, no tears accompanying the words, just a tired shudder, a slump as you fell into what felt like a waking sleep, your body truly able to relax from its admissions.

Jongho tensed a bit when your head hit his shoulder. Fatigued as you were, you shot up instantly, leaning further upon the wood again. The strong man before you was, you gathered, the least in favor of the others’ brotherly holds. What a nuisance you must have seemed…

He looked at you with those searching eyes again, the eyes that seemed to bore into thoughts that had barely even come to fruition for you. “It’s all right. I understand. You need this.” He patted his shoulder, welcoming you back. “If you want to.” His gaze darted a bit as he smiled softly, breaking the so-steady contact that had you both wishing to hide away the shadows he saw and lean into it completely.

Something snapped in your chest at that look, yet another of Jongho’s many surprises you’d seen since he first broke your dance to manhandle a villain. For seeming such a smile man, he understood you so much more than you him. Maybe someday that would change.

As it was, you gratefully leaned again, bobbing with the sea in silence save for her mighty roar.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seongwha #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez x female reader #female reader #pirate au #long post

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