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coffeeshades · 1 year

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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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puff0o0 · 17 days

Text

Hes so goofy I literally love him

(credits to @niktocallofduty for the image !!)

It pains me how underrated Nikto is, he's such an amazing character with an amazing storyline. AND HIS VOICELINESS??? AUUUGHHSHSHSHSHSHHDHD

So little content for a guy with such an interesting backstory. Like he was a CIA agent??? and he was captured?? escaped with his life and then became this brave soldier that never stopped fighting to protect those who can't protect themselves??? the torture is sad though :( my pookie bear did NOT deserve that

I love how they wrote his lines and I LOVE the voice they chose for him. It fits him so perfectly it's unbelievable, Gideon emery did such an amazing job with voicing him

His personality is hard to analyze (because he has many) and I really wish we got to see more of him so we could see more of how he's like. The only thing that is helping me is researching DID (which is what I belive he has, if I'm wrong please correct me) and colliding his canon personality with it

its so worth it in the end though

hes so pretty

his eyes are gorgeous

i sob everytime

Not a single time where he looks bad in all these images

hes so perfect

I also feel like so much content can be done with him and it's not limited to one category. he is such a interesting yet complex character and honestly deserves the world for all he's been through 😢

ANYWAYS, SMALL HCs

☆ He is the type of man to distance himself from you when he's upset so he doesn't take it out on you. Most of the time it's him taking a long shower or spending time driving around.

☆ He doesn't really go anywhere except sometimes sports bars, but that's a rare occasion as he doesn't wanna leave you alone too long

☆ but he can't be perfect all the time, sometimes he snaps and it leads to him taking some of it out

☆ He understands when you don't accept his apology and that you were hurt by his words and he makes sure he does everything he can to make up for it and prevent it from happening again

☆ he never wants to hurt you nor does he mean to hurt you. He tries his hardest to be away from you while he's having an episode

☆ he adores cuddling but he will never say it outright. He doesn't even correlate it to the word, just seeing it as a means of showing affection. His favorite way is holding you at night on top of him, almost as if you were a weighted blanket for him. ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

☆ You always wake up away from him or without him as he's already up

☆ He'll wake you up with breakfast in bed sometimes

☆ He makes you breakfast in the morning, usually he picks but if you want something specific he'll try to make it. He has to practice it if he's never made it before though 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹

☆ His favorite meals are Kasha or Blini ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ

☆ His nicknames for you are: Куколка (doll), принцесса (princess), драгоценная (precious), Родная (sweetheart), and ангел (angel) ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

#wishes ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #Nikto x reader #nikto x reader #Andre nikto x reader #andre nikto x reader #Nikto x you #nikto x you #Andre Nikto x you #andre nikto x you #Nikto #nikto #Andre Nikto #Andre nikto #andre nikto

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thesamoanqueen · 2 months

Text

Onlyfans

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut.

A/N: this one-shot showed up in my mind because of John Cena and me thinking impossible possibilities.

He usually bring it with him all the time, but at home he paid no attention. He had left it on the table to go and do something when the first notification had arrived. Y/N hadn't even looked up from her laptop, too busy with the program sent from Stamford the previous evening and which she was reviewing as always before sending it back to the office. Two minutes had passed and another notification had arrived. Roman hadn't shown up then either, but when the third had been followed by a fourth, Y/N had held out her hand with a sigh. She didn't want to pry, she didn't even want to know, she justs cared about making that sound stop to work in peace and let Roman know of whoever had that urgency to talk to him.

What had appeared on the screen, however, had made her put the laptop aside without thinking twice, pushing her to get up and find out what the hell was that stuff.

She couldn't believe her eyes, it was crazy.

When she found him, he was busy with a box full of old fitness equipments, smile ready as soon as she came into his sight.

- Hey gorgeous – he greeted her and Y/N stopped to look at him, her perfect handsome man.

- Is there something you want to tell me? – she asked, holding back to give him a chance.

Roman froze completely, his gaze serious, back straight.

- whats up? – she heard him ask, pretending he didn’t know or maybe not knowing for real, Y/N at that point was not sure anymore.

- I don't know, should I?! – she immediately echoed him, refusing to prolong that game to place his phone in front of him, the message he had received still open.

Leaving aside what were their habits as a couple, habits that had never displeased either of them as far as she knew, they had established from the first moment they would discuss everything, to be open-minded and fair with their feelings. They had been on a verge of a breakup because of an unspoken nonsense, they had learned from the past and since that moment there had been nothing they hadn't shared, bad moods, doubts, problems, fears. She trusted him, she wasn't obsessed with knowing what, where or who he was with, not even knowing what revolved around him and was proposed to him before, it had never even crossed her mind. She had chosen a man, a good real man, one who wanted a family, with no fear about serious relationship and without warning now she found out an Onlyfans notification on his phone? At home? While she was there working?!

- I didn't mean to watch, there could be anything in there, whatever, but here Ro? For real? and honestly If you have a reason or not, I thought we were better than this- she said, unable to hold back any longer and immediately saw his expression change, an amused smile replacing his worried expression.

- Babygirl, slow down. We got no problem, there's nothing in there I want, trust me. I don't care about that stuff, its shit, I’d never do it when I’ve you – he winked, trying to pull her into a hug, but more he laughed more she tensed.

- ‘kay then what?!

- You know, John did it, an account… boys at work were joking, saying that I should make one too. Locker room chatter, bullshit, sometimes they still get me involved.

Surprised, she looked at him speechless, turmoil quickly slipping away, while his information created a strangely valid picture in her mind about possibilities.

John was a funny dude, strange at times and that stunt had actually made the news. She had seen some clips online, nothing R-rated as one might imagine, but she hadn't connected the two things. And she had never even thought that someone might have thought of doing it, even though she knew of Roman's fame among the fans, rumors, fantasies and the whole package on the most unlikely platforms. In some way it was her job to know what people thought about wwe’s top guy and she played with it to for promotion.

- A real onlyfans – she repeated flatly, staring at him and he gave her one of his billion dollar smiles.

- I'm quite successful, it might work – he joked and she reflexively batted her eyelashes, unable to control herself because yes, he was damn right.

People went absolutely crazy for a few well planted cameras shots, a couple of hits not so family friendly in his ring promos and that salt and pepper in his beard, a video or an entire onlyfans account would not have been simply successful, would have unleashed the apocalypse into the wrestling community. During the production phase, behind the scenes, she too had relied on certain shots, specific set-ups, because she knew they would work. There were things that she too was obsessed with despite having him as her in real life partner. If Roman would have really decided to do it, something direct, focused, if he didn't hold back…

The thought made her turn around, going back without another word.

-Y/N – Roman called her, trying to hold her, but she didn't let him do it, quickly marching towards the front door closet where she kept her purse always ready.

She knew Roman had followed her, sensing heavy footsteps behind her as she walked through the house, but when she finally started to reach for what she needed, his hand tightened around her wrist, physically stopping her from doing anything. He gave her a deadly serious look, his gaze dark as she broke free.

- Y/N it was a bad joke, ain’t gonna happen, don't take it that far – he reasoned, standing there as if no one could move him, searching her eyes.

Those brown eyes that would have made anyone's knees tremble, that had made her tremble too an infinite number of times and for the most absurd reasons, at the right times and not, everywhere, always, from the first moment, without exceptions and that now she saw slowly widen, confused, as she handed him what she had taken out of her jacquemus.

-Here – she offered, her personal credit card ready.

Roman stared at it stunned and Y/N knew she had caught him off guard, because that card never left her purse if he was around, he didn't like when it happened even though she was proudly independent he liked to play the role of her provider. With a deep breath, seeing him froze, she decided to take out the second one, adding it to the first and moving closer to slip them into his pocket.

- Let’s say you can have both, but the show is exclusive – she specified, as if they were really in a negotiation and at that last hint she felt him suddenly explode into laughter.

He throw his head back, perfect teeth showing, eyes crinkling, making every inch of his chiseled face smile.

- Someone woke up possessive – he pinched her when he was finally able to speak again and Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, letting him have that little win.

He didn’t like if someone was too close to her, if someone stared in a way or another, when they hadn't yet been in an official relationship Y/N had witnessed scenes of pure testosterone that would have made anyone run and even today he showed no signs of loosening his grip. She had found the notification of a site notoriously inclined towards certain ratings, messages with it, she hadn't worked entirely on her imagination, but were clearly details his ego ignored, too happy to have caught her.

-If your intention is to keep laughing, I'll take them back – she stopped him, stretching out her hand again to retrieve them, but as soon as she took them off, Roman grabbed her wrist.

- For you the show is free, just ask ma'am

His voice was velvetly soft, as was the touch of his thumb stroking her caramel skin. With eyes fixed on hers, she couldn't hold back a smile, seeing Roman return it immediately when he pushed her against the door.

- Then show me sir – she whispered and he twisted his head, making her giggle before lifting her up.

With legs wrapped around his hips, he carried her to the couch to place her between cushions like a precious thing, a rebellious lock hanging out of the bun. He stood there waiting, hands placed next to her, but deliberately not where he should, his whole body close, but not close enough and for a moment Y/N did nothing but admire him.

He was a charming man, the kind of man who captured attention even without anything special or fancy, he made her hands itch and her stomach flutter like the first time she had touched him and she had no longer been able to let him go. It wasn't just the appearance, but rather his attitude, his attentions, they were a drug, they were addictive and the idea of having them all to herself, having him when out there people would do anything to have a crumb of what she had, it made her feel special, in charge.

-You're playing a dangerous game – he warned her, eyes hovering over her full lips.

-Im pretty sure I can handle it – she replied, her breathing slowing as she saw him bend more.

-I know exactly what you can handle babygirl – he touched her with his nose, with that lock and Y/N felt the taste of him on her, even if Roman had kept himself at a sufficient distance not to kiss her.

From the couch, Y/N watched as he straightened up and grabbed the hem of his tank to pull it up. Her eyes went hopelessly down his body, looking in religious silence at every inch of his torso, as he undressed with unnatural calm. She watched the abs pop out even without oil to accentuate them, broad pecs, dark tattoo that stood out against tanned skin, those lines that she drew with her fingers whenever she could. And then the arms, bent to pass the shirt beyond his neck to which she used to cling, those arms that she scratched as if her very life depended on them, capable of hurting and carrying her around effortlessly, shaped by years of practice and dedication. Her pulse racing, she saw him turn to put away his shirt, showing her his broad back, his sculpted shoulders as he rolled them back to face her and let his hair down. She watched Roman run his long fingers through the messy locks, trying to fix them during that impromptu striptease in the living room, in broad daylight and anything could have happened, someone even broke into the house and Y/N would not have flinched, focused as she was on him.

He was slow, unnerving. What she would do quickly, throwing everything away, he did in slow motion, to push her desire, make her savor everything, drive her completly crazy. Every gesture seemed to require effort, every action was like a ritual, a video wouldn't have done him justice, he was directing a movie and she was the spectator unable to distract herself while his fingers loosened the knot of his shorts to make them hang on the hips. Enraptured, she followed his usually hidden v, focusing on the portion of skin he was revealing and that left no doubt about what was down there. Concentrated, she clenched her legs without hiding, heartbeat racing as he fill the space between them, a dangerous intense shadow on his eyes that made Y/N hold her breath.

- Why you so silent now sweetheart? – he asked, stopping a step away from her, looking down and Y/N raised her head, body tingling as she felt him tower above her.

-Im ejoying it… no words needed – she breathed innocently, reaching out a hand tentatively and Roman bent over once again following the wandering of fingers playing with his lace, tongue running on his lips.

- Hmm no, I think we need a reaction… feedbacks you know, for that onlyfans stuff

His voice, breathing caused another series of shocks through her, the desire to crash her mouth against him, suffocate in one of their kisses, feel his big hands ravaging her now almost unbearable. Roman locked her wrist once more, his grip hard enough to make Y/N throb where she was probably already a mess, preventing her from exploring more than she should, eyes going back into hers, digging, guiding her where he wanted, only where he let them.

-Its good – she admitted without rebelling, unable to concentrate on anything than those two brown pools that seemed to swallow her.

- Just that? – he asked, pinching her face with his hair and Y/N tilted her head, intercepting the trajectory of his lips with greed.

-More than good – she mewed, leaning forward and feeling him guide her to his erection, never breaking eye contact, avid more than ever on having her undivided attention.

- Not enough for me

Under her fingers, Y/N felt his boner awake, hard and she risked something more, a more intense touch, hoping to convince Roman to let her do something, but it lasted just a moment and he pushed her away, standing up straight again to do it himself. Y/N knew what to expect, she knew what Roman was hiding, and yet when he lowered his pants enough to release his erection and took it into his hand, Y/N couldn't hold back a gasp to the mere sigh of his delicious flesh. She saw him so proud, spit obscenely and his smile quickly turn into an arrogant grin enjoying his attentions in front of her who was now struggling to stay still.

Was the kind of show she was sure many people would sell their souls along with their houses for and that even her, despite knowing Roman's abilities, couldn't say was immune. She wasn't immune at all honestly and when he curled his mouth, carried away by the increasing euphoria, eyes still fixed on her, letting go an excited growl, Y/N jumped on her knees.

-Gawd com’here– she moaned sulkily before crashing her lips on him and Roman laughed at her kissing, his hand finally leaving his now tense erection to keep himself balanced.

-That's a feedback – he approved, watching her quickly undress beneath him.

And Y/N might have replied but her body was begging her to put an end to that game, get some relief and before Roman could decide otherwise just for playing around, she pulled him better on top, wedging his brawny body between her thighs. With one hand on his dark locks and the other feeling his cock, she slowly bit his lip asking with pleading eyes and he pushed himself into her palm, tongue ready to invade her mouth. She moaned against him, letting him move his hips, enveloped in the heat of him, in that tantalizing smell of his skin, lost in the exquisite taste of his mouth, until she heard Roman growl and only then she guided him where wanted. None had touched her, neither him nor herself and yet she felt him slip between her juicy folds with ease, in a feral curse that made her cry and pushed him to bite her neck. Holding her hip he enstablished a pace to fuck her opposite of his striptease, messy, rough, domineering, every thrust crushed her down, nailing her mercilessly and making her sweatin agony.

Sometimes she felt like she was a toy in his hands, but she liked that kind of treatment, more when they had already wasted enough time with other games and the thought of someone else wanting that attention was still in the back of her head. She ran her nails down his forearms, marking him, holding on with ragged breath, gasping with mouth open, as he grunted into the crook of her neck, sinking into her dripping pussy in a concert of obscene sounds. And in the throes of her ecstacy, Y/N made her hands roam over his massive back, over his strong neck, even over his ass contracted in the effort to pound her wildly.

She felt a well known fire building suddenly in the bottom of her belly, uncontrollably, like a wave of pure bliss when Roman pushed himself deeper, lifting without mercy her thigh over his shoulder to get a better angle, his balls slapping against her soft skin and she squirmed crying in pleasure. His grip became more possessive, almost to prevent her from run, even though she was now just a weeping mess, folds pulsing and gripping around his dick, heat growing for what was now a marvelous attack until the delirium reached her head.

- R-Roo… ple-aase…

- Ssh come for me… let it go, you wanted it cmon good girl -

One stroke and another, on that sweet lovely spot, his skin rubbing against her hot clit and Y/N closed her eyes, curling beneath him, her mind white, blank and ì mouth open without a sound to leave her soul. She felt him leave a sweaty kiss on her cheek, continue tenaciously to prolong her sensation and also lift her other leg, aiming it in a shameful, vulgar position to conquer his climax now. Stunned by her orgasm, she watched him with passionate eyes, his expression focused, body tense and furious in the last effort and Y/N placed her forehead against his, holding him in place, tightening with a sob around his cock, folds trembling. With all his weight pinning her down, he willingly went for a couple of thrusts, deep, rough, his breathing more and more heavy until it was enough for him too and Y/N pulled him against her neck, feeling every muscle of his thick body tense and his cock twitching until it fills her up.

As always, he got stuck inside her, refusing to come out until he stopped jerking, hands gripping her soft hips tenaciously to keep her in place and only when nothing was left anymore, he freed her, collapsing though against the couch headboard to pull her against him in a sweaty hug, while they caught both their breath. They probably should have rushed to take a shower, but Y/N wasn't in a hurry and he didn't seem to be either, leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder.

- I was thinking… - she began, sore but with her fingers tracing his arm anyway.

- Gimme ten minutes and we'll do another live

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @joannasteez @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @spritelucozade

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns fanfic #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns oneshot

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cu7ie · 11 months

Text

souya smiles.

⠀⠀⠀ ˊᯅˋ does he know that my destiny lies with him?

cw; large insertions + extra prep, sexual exhaustion, reader w/vag + no pronouns. lovey dovey shit they like eachother what do u want from me.

The only time Souya can stand to have a smile on his lips is when his hands are on your hips and he's lowering you onto his cock.

And even then, the expression is gradual, as your pussy opens so nicely for him, squeezing down on his sensitive flesh. His hand feels along your stomach for the bump his dick leaves behind as he makes a few tentative thrusts, making you whine atop him. He's not one for teasing, but you're so easy to fluster,

Easy to get a reaction out of.

"Souya - don't go so slow. You're t e a s i n g me." The word lingers on your lips, your lower lip trembling like you're gonna try to convince him with those crocodile tears that you can handle him going any faster than this. You two don't usually have sex for long - you can talk the talk but you can't walk the walk, (Souya fucks you like a man possessed, like he might lose a part of himself if he can't wring an orgasm out of you,) and more often than not, Souya's raring to go long after you've tapped out.

"You say the same thing every time. And then when I really put my all in it, you start whining, —"

"No I do not!"

Souya's voice goes up in pitch, mocking you.

" 'It feels like you're tearing me apart, Souya,' " Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you recall that moment with striking clarity, slapping him sharplu on his chest.

“Hey, fuck you! I only said that one time!” You’re surprised he even remembered at all.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꈍᴗꈍ

You guys saw each other less after he launched his restaurant abroad. You stayed in and out of touch, remained dedicated to your studies while supporting Souya's dream overseas.

One day, he came back to Japan on a surprise visit.

Riding your bike back home from your job, you nearly crash into him with it. You're so excited to see him that you start flapping your hands and stuttering and have a little trouble looking him in the eye still,

But you're just like how he remembers you. Perfect and a little awkward and your hands still shake a little just like they did in mid school,

And the look in your eyes is all consuming, adoring, affectionate. His stomach flutters and the corners of his lips twitch, his face resembling a deer caught in headlights as you toss your bike aside and wriggle your smaller arms under his and hug his torso for all you’re worth. His afro has been pulled back into the cutest little ponytail, but you have to admit there’s something about seeing the stark blue mass of curls that makes you want to twirl your hair and drag your feet. He’s still as handsome as you remembered, though. Still frowning so grumpily.

"Souya! It's .. it's been so long." You're small in his arms, the tender embrace lasting for a bit too long because you’re trying to fit all the love you can muster in it,

And really he’s just tired from the flight, so while you’re verbally fantasizing about all these plans, fun things for you two to get up to while he’s here, he’s remembering how soft your mattress used to be, the smell of you on the pillows…

His mind flashes in and out of the memories of the little things. Your eyes crinkling in the corners when you’re giving him your real deal smiles, how you squeeze his hand in yours just to remember ‘what he feels like’. Feeling a little bad he’s been gone for so long. But you make his heart feel like it never left.

You walk him up to your apartment, chatting calmly and holding his pinky in yours and by the time he’s actually in your house, you’re pulling him to your bedroom and

Help him take his clothes off. Maybe he’s more jetlagged than he thought, because he’s just admiring the peace in your expression as you help him with something he ought to do himself. But you’re so eager to see him in a way that feels wholly unexpected. Then again, it’s you. As long as he can remember, you’ve always been happy to see him. You take off his stuffy button up and toss him a shirt he hasn’t seen in years.

It's a band tee that has a faded graphic of the Deftones on it. Despite it looking well loved, there's lint and some dust he has to shake off of it.

“I.. wore this in back in highschool. ” “M’yeah, you left it here way back. I was.. Holding onto it. For you.” You smile so cutely he doesn’t even care if that's not true. He slips it over his head and falls back onto the pillow, you worm your way into his arms and let him hold you. Feel you for the first time in years.

And he doesn’t like feeling like a pervert, but,

How can you blame him? You look at him so dreamily, on the verge of a good nap, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes so you can commit this image of him to memory (as if he'd risk disappearing on your again).He can feel you staring at him, feels you crawling further along his chest, and his hand naturally falls to your back, slides down along your spine..

And he can feel himself grow hard as he feels your nipples, solid as diamond, poke at him from under your thin lounge shirt.

“.. souya.” He cracks his eyelids open, just enough to see you pressing up against his chest, your skin softer than his; warm and inviting.

“..can I kiss you?” He doesn’t even stop to think about it; not a word is uttered in that moment, he cups his hands and hoists you up so you’re properly laying atop him. He was dreaming of sheep not even a second ago, but now your perky little butt is rubbing against his hard cock, the kisses you pepper onto his face pulling him in deeper, and deeper,

He just wanted to take a nap. You do a good job at convincing him otherwise.

Newfound energy surges into him as you gyrate your hips just so, his clothed cock sliding along the fat plush of your ass, and he knows you know what you’re doing, eyes feigning innocence as your hands rub down his musculature, the contours of his stomach; you’re filled with so much raw affection that you suddenly become wild in your movement, something he hasn’t seen in a while taking you over. Your breathing is hot and heavy; his as well, and as you part yourself from the final kiss, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips with him, you bury your nose into the crook of his neck.

Souya is blazing hot now. You don’t move from that position and he physically can’t handle the way you rile him up, his fingers twitching and his knee jumping and he just has to touch you, hands brazenly gripping the weight of your ass and the curve of your hip; you groan into the flesh on his neck, your hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders with a profound eagerness. You’ve gotten him flustered, and he’s trying to pull your sleep shorts off your butt with this look on his face like he might cry if he can’t get his cookie, his breathing uneven in your ear.

“I missed you so much.” “.. missed you too.” You rescind from his neck and allow the softness of his face to fall into your palms, your heart bumping in your chest loud enough for you to hear. “Mh. I wanna fuck you. So bad,” You grind your hips into his and he groans at you, his skin flushing red as he pokes a finger beneath the elastic of your underwear.

“Then help me get these shorts off. I really don’t want to tear them, they’re cute on you.” You’re smiling because you know Souya isn’t one for jokes, raising your ass with a shake of your hips, leaning forward into a kiss as you slide your shorts down to your knees, wriggling them down your leg and kicking them off to the side.

“How long has it been since you’ve been in Japan, Souya?” You say as you pull away from the kiss; making Souya cock his head and whine a little. He starts making hickies along your collarbone, answering in between sucks and breaths.

“ A year .. n’ maybe four months.” He rumbles low in his throat as his balls seize up, the anticipation of sex making him moody and a little impatient. He grabs your wrists and flips you over on the bed, earning a cute giggle and gasp as he hooks his hands around the back of your knees, hoisting your hips up into the air with newfound vigor and ease,

Slow-cooking in your scent, inundating himself in your heat, your wet cunt is gushing; a sopping spot on your underwear as he tugs it off with his teeth. “Someone’s really eager.” You try not to let your voice waver, but he sees through your facade; nibbles on your thigh just to hear you moan, trying to correct your mistake by clapping your hand over your mouth softly.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard you moan for me.” He pushes your thighs apart until he can see your quivering folds and puffy little clit; burying his head into your muff without waiting for a reply. His tongue is hot and quick and knows you so well. It travels up your labia with long unabashed licks, reaching your clit; then he doubles down, suckling on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your pussy is soaked and it never did take you too long to cum when he goes down on you, your hands gripping the streets for purchase as you groan out his name.

“Sou…ya, Oh fuck - Souya. Souya!”

His name falls from your lips like a chant as he angles your legs higher to get deeper into your snatch, his grip wrought iron and his desire evident. You’ve covered his nose, lips and chin in your wetness, the bashful yet cheeky grin you fix him with making his heart flutter like nothing else. In an instant he’s possessed by this intensity and fervor, forcing your knees further up and to your chest with one hand and trying to fix his dick out of his sweats with the other; but you frantically wave your hands then, dragging him out his pussy drunk stupor.

“Y’gotta.. gotta use your fingers first.” You pant, air having left your lungs. You wipe the sweat from your forehead (sweating already, it really has been a while, huh?) feeling a bit sheepish having to explain. “I won’t be able to take it if you don’t stretch me out first, it’s been .. wayyy too long ..” Souya snorts as you spread your folded legs, plunging in a finger without ceremony and feeling a little surprised when he hears you squeak. You seem embarrassed but amused by yourself, looking directly at the place where his finger dips into your warm core and your toes curling at the sound of the squelch.

“..you’re too cute.” Souya doesn’t have the thickest fingers, so one in and out works well for you. He gets to two and he hears you mewl, your tiny pussy still soaked but taking him in with less ease than before. Your walls clamp down around his digits like you plan to trap him there. You’re breathing hard and your fingers frustratedly grasp air and squeeze wind, this profound heat in your body,

Cooking you slowly from the inside, his fingers move faster and you’re whining and moaning, little “Ah, ah, ah’s!” as Souya pumps in with reckless abandon. You’re trying not to cum again, but you really can’t help it, your moans crescendoing, your chest rising and falling in time with each pump; then he adds another finger. Your back arches and you rise off the bed as you squirt around his fingers, (you got some onto his forearm, makes his eyebrows shoot up.) And you look so peaceful on the pillows, tuckered out already apparently. Souya gripes, and your lidded eyes flutter open. He shakes your knees and your legs fall open without resistance, your hands gripped by the wrists and pinned above your head as his other hand works even faster to whip his dick out; his tip drooling and sticky with precum as the head of his cock kisses the lips of your pussy. His shoulders shudder as his breathing becomes heavy, his hard gaze harrowing in on you as he speaks slowly, pressure building as the tip of him pushes in. “I don’t want to break you.” His lower lip trembles, the gentle sincerity in his voice understudied by a certain kind of grit, rough like sandpaper. His eyes narrow at you, the grip around your wrist tightening. “But I think I will.”

“I’d say I’m sorry,” His hips are moving forward, and the girth of his cock (stretches you out just like how you remembered) making your eyes cross and your lips part in silence. “But I .. really don’t like lying to you.” He pushes in and the stretch stings in a sinfully good way; your pretty little pussy getting split open by thick pipe; Souya’s balls slapping gently against your ass as he eases into you at a regular pace.

“I - I swear, you’re gonna tear me apart with that fuuuh-cking thing.” Your thighs quiver and your voice feels unsure.

"One.. of these days … oooh fuck."

It still feels too fast. You clamp around his dick like you’re the one trying to break him; your arms wriggling as you tug on them, trying to dislodge them from beneath Souya’s hands. He has a look of utter bliss overlaid onto his usually frowny expression. His eyes flutter closed, savoring the feeling of your wet walls slicking up his cock,

while you’re cursing, blood rushing to your cheeks as your leg shake and your skin is alight,

“Holy - fuck! Fuck! F-fuck you, Souya; jesus fucking christ-” Souya looks amused by you, his polite smile looking down right dastardly.

“Don’t look at me like that, asshole!” You whine, but don’t put up a real fight. Your moans escape your body in time with his thrusts and it feels really embarrassing. You feel like you sound like a whore, moaning his name to the sky; forgetting the whole world behind you. You'll be surprised if you go out and the neighbor's aren't looking at you funny. Souya is electric, like a nasty jolt that sends a shock of pleasure and pain so deep into you that it transcends touch and does something to your brain itself.

You’re drooling on your favorite pillow and squealing and whining and (begging for it begging faster faster, when you know you can’t handle it) overwhelming sensations have taken you over completely. Your heels dig into Souya’s back and he feels encouraged to thrust even harder, lean forward and slobber all over the fat of your chest trying to get one of those beady nipples into his mouth.

Souya’s cock is a bully, pounding your sweet cunt into utter submission when your body can do nothing else but twitch and listen to the sound of sloppy sex, hands grabbing at air as he keeps your arms up and out of the way. He looks overcome too, a haze blanketing over him as he fucks you so good the tip of his dick kisses your cervix and all you can see is stars,

And then that coiling spring inside your guts releases all its tension as you utterly cream yourself on his dick. But he’s still going. Still fascinated by how tiny you feel compared to him, this dominance he’s exercising over you, a cock drunk little fairy, taking a primal pleasure in how fucked out your face looks.

(He can even see the little bump on your tummy where his cock is. Rubbing his hand over it makes you whimper, but maybe you’re just feeling a little sensitive,) though you’re still soaking wet, it’s clear you’re on your last leg. You're crying from ecstasy, your cunt unwilling to be stretched so far; you’re much tighter than you were before on account of your exhaustion alone. “Souya-” You attempt a whine before you’re silenced with a kiss. You can feel him smiling against your bottom lip, giving another - harder - thrust-

Then,

His hips stutter. He feels his balls tighten and it’s only then his hands drop to your hips to pull you as far onto his cock as he can. It’s like you’re boneless in his arms, your skin all tingly and raw and,

He’s fucking his load into you. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders to prevent your skull from slamming against the headboard, feeling him feel you up, up, and up.

"love you.. really love you.."

There’s so much that it spills onto your sheets.

You feel so full that you can’t stop babbling, gasping and your thighs are shaking, stilled only when Souya gently pulls your legs apart and slides his cock out of you, leaving you full of cum; yet devastatingly empty.

When Souya sighs, you can feel the stress leave him, the frenzied ogre is no more, and he collapses beside you; just as sweet as he came. He seems a little apologetic, a little bashful as he tucks his arms around your waist and tugs you toward him.

“I really did miss you.” Your head is still floaty, but you’ve your wits about you enough to mutter,

“I noticed.”

#souya x reader #souya kawata smut #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #souya kawata #tokyorev #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf

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emilio-the-dumb-wrestler · 4 months

Text

Chase took a picture of himself in the dirty gym mirror. Damn he looked good he thought to himself. Years of dedication and dieting has left him with a body that made men and women swoon for his attention. The bad thing about this though was Chase knew he was good looking. He treated everyone poorly and it wasn’t long before he had enough enemies that they decided they needed to do something about it. I watched him take a picture of himself smirking as he was loving the reflection he had and as soon as he took the picture I slipped right on in. Taking full control. Chase was fully aware of everything happening. I made sure of that. But for now it was me in full control. And he was helpless to anything I did. “Well chase it looks like you have quite the number of enemies. You pride yourself so much how you look that it’s time to make some lasting changes!” I said out loud in his deep voice. Chase was screaming inside my head. Trying to take control but able to do a thing about it.

Rubbing Chase’s hairy stomach I knew that the first thing I was going to do was give Chase a gut. Something he prided himself on never having. Well times change and it was time for him to gain some serious weight. Chase screamed inside his own head and I just laughed.

Going home I thought about more ways to really punish Chase and I got even better ideas. Like normal I got tired of Chase screaming non stop so I put him to sleep. Leaving me to figure out all the wicked things I was going to do. At his apartment I looked at myself in the mirror. Chase really was a good looking man. Fit and muscular. Size 14 feet. He really was something to see. Looking down I rubbed his stomach. Using my magic I mumbled the spell to activate all changes I willed on him. His stomach began to bulge. And I laughed the whole time. “No that’s not big enough. Chase shouldn’t be able to see his feet !” And as if on command his stomach surged forward. Blocking his view of the ground. “Perfect !” He rubbed a ringer down the middle of his stomach and said “he’ll never be able to suck this in even if we tried !” And just liked his stomach flexed and churned. Bloating out more. Chase’s abs disappeared completely and his muscle would never respond to him trying to flex them again. His stomach would be permanently bloated outward. Always hanging in front of him no matter what he did. “This is more like it. This way this weight will stick and never go away!” And just like that Chase would never be able to lose another pound.

I decided the hair for his body needed to be thicker. Like a sweater he could never remove and just like that his body began to grow very thick hair. A dark beard sticking out of my chin and touched the top part of his chest that was quickly becoming coated. Arms and shoulders now thickly matted in hair.

I made his body begin to smell like he hadn’t showered in days. Making this is new permanent smell while sweat began to bead on his forehead and drip down his hairier body. His shoes had gotten tighter as I made his feet thicker and hairier to match the rest of his modified body. But that wasn’t all I was going to do. “This body will need to smoke everyday. A have a beer everyday or else Chase will get sick!” Definitely going to love having those addictions now.

I spent a week in his beefier hairy body. Getting chase used to his new life. The smell. The sweating. The smoking and the beer. I quit his job for him in accounting because it was going to be too much for him after my next change. Walking down the street I let Chase wake up. Letting him feel his body jiggly as it walked. Letting his feel that wind blowing through all the hair ! Chase was screaming instantly. Crying in his own head. I opened the door to the clinic and Chase demanded to know what was going on. I just laughed and ignored him. When the doctor came in I quickly signed the papers. Not even giving Chase enough time to read them. I wanted this to be a surprise for him. He demanded to know what was going on. The doctor came in with the syringe and prepped the needle. Chase demanded to know what was happening. “You sure you want this ?” Said the dr and I shook chase’s head for him. It was then I decided to tell Chase. In his head like a thought I told him how accounting was a thing of the past. I told him how my final change for him was to make another change. One that I couldn’t use magic for. Chase screamed and cried. He begged me not to do this. I held out his arm. Still under my control. Chase screamed. The needle was inserted in his arm by the doctor. And the doctor gave me one last chance to back out. I took the needle from his hands and plunged the fluid directly into Chase’s thicker hairier arm. And left his body completely.

I watched as Chase’s jaw went slack. Drool began to pool into his beard. For all the doctor knew. Chase just offered himself up for a liquid lobotomy. And injected himself too. Instantly dropping his iq from 140 to 60. Chase would never be an accountant again. He would be a big dumb lumbering brute for the rest of his life now.

#bodywrecker

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 days

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WIBTA if I asked my girlfriend to get me a replacement mask?

So I and my girlfriend (both adults) are in a long-distance relationship and live on different continents but visit each other for periods of weeks to months at a time. As background context, my girlfriend is notoriously bad with money - she's owed me over $1500 for half a year now after I covered some big expenses for her when she was unable to save in time, though I've told her there's no particular deadline for giving it back and to just do it when she's able, but she's also borrowed money from her parents, she's paying off a credit card debt, and despite having a full-time job she seems completely unable to save anything substantial and is constantly buying things.

We both like a certain musician, and this shared interest in the musician is actually how we met in the first place and bonded. They've dropped some merch in the past, and it always sold out within 5-10 minutes, and they're borderline impossible to get now unless you a) are lucky enough to find another fan who's giving theirs away, which is super rare because of how hard they are to replace, or b) are willing to fork out thousands of dollars for a resold one on some dodgy site somewhere. One of the merch items I got from one of those drops was a facemask, and my girlfriend has a matching one - I can't remember if it was something I bought for her, since I did that with some merch if I got there in time, or one she bought herself. It became a huge comfort item for me - I'm both autistic and have avoidant personality disorder, so I'm almost always in some kind of mask to hide my face, and this one being connected to a special interest as well as comfortable and a perfect size (and goes with all my clothes!) made me super happy. Last time she visited, we joked around about having identical masks but that it was easy to tell which one was hers because it had makeup stains all over the inside.

As she packed to leave, I mentioned that I couldn't find my mask anywhere and asked if she'd picked mine up as well as hers by accident, so she dug through her bags and said she didn't have it, only hers. I was kinda disappointed but I figured it'd turn up sooner or later so I accepted it, and she flew back home.

A few days later, she let me know she'd unpacked and discovered she actually did have both our masks. I asked her to send it back to me, and she said she would.

Fast forward a few months, I'd asked a few more times, and she always said she would soon. Eventually, when I asked one time, she told me she'd lost it. Her mother had tidied her entire room and she no longer had any idea where either of our masks were. I was kind of frustrated so I asked why she couldn't have just sent it over when I initially asked, and she snapped back that she couldn't afford it, which doesn't make much sense to me because she definitely does have enough to send over a flat envelope, which a fabric face mask would easily fit in just like a letter.

It's been a few months since then and I've been looking and looking for any kind of replacement, but all I can find are knock-off versions that are made from different materials or don't look the same. I did see one resold for like $20 ages ago, so it definitely happens, but it's so rare.

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend I'm expecting her to replace the one she lost even if it's putting more financial pressure on her? I feel really dumb for getting so upset about a mask, but it was one of my favourite belongings and it's genuinely upsetting that it was taken and lost.

To get out ahead of any comment saying it, I have full 100% faith that she did not do it intentionally and she didn't sell it or anything like that. She wouldn't have even thought about the possibility of doing that and I absolutely believe it was an accident and she just grabbed both masks or had been holding onto mine for me and forgotten it was in a bag etc.

#aita #am i the asshole

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deadricslover · 9 months

Text

second time's a charm

here's my masterlist!

a/n: ^^^that's a gif btw idk why it's not playing for me. can u see it?

summary: your younger sister called recently to tell you she had found a boyfriend and she wanted you all as a family to meet him.

warnings: again, like the last post. the focus isn't on Bruce being your partner in this one...

pairings: fem!reader x bale!Bruce Wayne

-------------------------------------------------

Two weeks ago your younger sister, Anna called you up and told you that she got a boyfriend and wanted you to meet him. Of course you said yes, as big sister duty and to see who has your baby sister's heart. She knew when she asked that you would want to meet him, but why she really wanted you two to meet was because she needed your opinion and approval. As silly as it sounded, she wouldn't want to be with him if you didn't like him or thought she could do better as she valued your opinion ever so much, like any little sister would-- even though she's not so young anymore. You needed to be there though for different reasons, yes, you wanted to support Anna, but you also wanted to make sure things ran as smoothly as possible and not like when Bruce met your family. To be fair, then, it was uncharted waters and you didn't know what to expect. You want to prevent the invasive mother questions and protective dad mode from arising. Sure, a couple embarrassing stories would be fun, but as long as things didn't go overboard, you were good. You hadn't heard much about this boy only the things that Anna was willing to share when she called you late at night rambling about how their first date went and you could practically see her twirling her hair as if she was in a film.

"Is there a dress code for this sort of thing? Meeting your fiance's sister's boyfriend" Bruce asks from your shared bed while you root through the closet like a racoon in a bin trying to find the perfect fit for Bruce to wear. You felt like a mom picking out clothes for her child. You eventually find what you're looking for and throw it at him while replying

"Yes, not pyjamas. Now get changed"

"Yes, Mom" he says smiling looking for a reaction out of you

"Would you rather pick out an outfit for yourself?" you question, spinning back around to see him now standing up taking off his shirt

"no, you just always do such a good job"

"do you want me to change you too?" you ask, now bickering like an old couple

"you know, I wouldn't mind-" he starts

"tough, you're a grown man that should be able to change AND pick out his own clothes" you say cracking a little smile, despite your efforts to not let it show. You close the door before he had a chance to say something else and also so he didn't she the grin creeping up on your face. You go straight to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water because who knew finding clothes for Bruce to wear would be so hard. Not like you hadn't done it hundred times.

Time passes and you two leave to go to your childhood home. It was safe to say you were probably in for a stressful night, constantly listening to make sure your parents don't drift in to a conversation tat would make Anna or her boyfriend uncomfortable. You and Bruce both knew that. The drive to the house was normal, but Bruce could sense that you were slightly worried at the possibilities.

"there's no need to worry, my love. Anna and the new boy should be the nervous ones" He comforts rubbing your hand as much as he could while driving while driving.

"if I don't like him, it will really effect how Anna sees this guy. I just want it to go well. Of course I want to like him and even if I don't, I'm not sure whether to mention it to Anna or to keep it a secret, if I keep it to myself then I feel like she might ignore all the red flags and I don't want her to get hurt but if I do tell her then I will feel like the bad person and that she can't make her own decisions an-" Bruce cuts you off

"you're rambling. I understand you're worried but everything will be fine, I promise" he reassures you sweetly, glancing over to you sitting in the passenger seat. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to his mouth to place it a little kiss into the back of it.

You step out of the car grabbing the last minute things that your dad asked you to pick up on the way here. Bruce meets you at your side and you walk to the door together, entering the house after a quick knock. You are met by your younger brother running up to the door grabbing onto you squeezing the life out his older sister.

You squat down to give him a proper embrace. "hi, big boy! you've grown so much"

"everyone's so excited to see you and mom is shouting at dad a lot" he innocently tells you. bless him for not knowing better.

"and we're here to fix that" you reply to your younger brother, max while getting up to say hi to everyone else. as you're walking away max runs up to Bruce and Bruce picks him up and they exchange greetings. Max looks up to Bruce so much, it's honestly so adorable.

someone that you do not yet recognise catches your attention and you soon realise that it must be the boy of the night, Anna's boyfriend who you still do not know the name of.

"hi, I'm Anna's older sister" you say to him offering your name also. He sticks out his hand for you to shake which catches you off guard but you accept the gesture no less.

"I'm Claude. I am with your sister" he says, a slight French accent flowing it's way to your ears.

"ooh where's that accent from" you inquire not 100% sure if that's an ok question to ask, but you did it anyways.

"my parents are french, my older siblings and I were all born in France and lived there until about eight years ago." he responds with a smile sending proud of his roots

"me and my fiance-- who is somewhere-- were hoping to go next year. any recommendations as to where is nice?" you ask trying to make conversation

he gives you multiple lovely places, explaining each is heaps of detail. you take each into account and make a mental note to check them out later on.

you spot your parents in the kitchen but more specifically, your mother hanging over your father's shoulder bickering with him, telling him that he is cutting the food wrong.

"mom, I don't think you can cut potatoes wrong." you call out catching her attention. she spins around and notices you and visibly sighs in relief.

"thank God you're here" she wraps you in an embrace while telling you how happy she is that you're here.

"everything will be fine. don't worry" you reassure her even though you aren't thinking the same thing at all.

"Anna is upstairs. she wanted me to send you up when you arrived. Where's Bruce?" she inquires looking around.

"with his shadow. I'll go up to her now" you say leaving. passing Bruce and Max on the way, telling him where you're going. You knock on her door and walk in when she says it's good for you to enter. she is sitting at her desk with a mirror propped against the wall touching up her hair. She glances at you in the mirror, puts down the tool and jumps up to run to you.

"I missed you." she tells you into your neck

"I missed you more. sorry I couldn't see you sooner." you answer, pulling back and sitting on her bed.

she sits down next to you and you start to ask her about the boy and teasing her about it and she gets all red and shy but it's so sweet. you've never been in this position before as you only have two younger siblings and Anna is the older of the pair. you remember when she was obsessing over the peeta from the hunger games when she was younger and now look at her. she is graduating soon and you are simply not ready for that. yes, you're not her mother but still, it's strange seeing her like this. You two talk for a little while more before you decide to finish off her hair for her while listening to some nostalgic music from your childhood together.

"he's downstairs. I feel bad leaving him but I need to look good and I'm kinda nervous" she says fiddling with her eyelashes.

"you do look good. And he is definitely not just dating you for your amazing looks, there's no need to worry" you inform her telling the utter truth

There is a knock on the door interrupting you two.

"sorry to interrupt, your mom sent me up. Claude and your family are waiting downstairs because dinner is ready" Bruce says popping in the door.

"oh sorry, we're on our way. just need to make sure Anna is feeling her best" you reply smiling at her in the mirror.

"he seems great, I was talking to him downstairs when max went away to get his new firetruck, that's the only time I got a word in with someone else" Bruce says showing how obsessed your brother is with your boyfriend.

"yeah I think so too. unless he comes out with some major criminal record" you tell her honestly but also glancing to Bruce to see his reaction, as batman doesn't have the best reputation with the cops.

"trust me, he doesn't. he's a good guy" Anna replies giggling a little bit.

"when I introduced myself first, he seemed so starstruck and he was stuttering and getting shy, it was really funny. but to be fair, if I saw George Clooney I would too" Bruce follows up with which makes you laugh and so does anna.

"yeah except, you're not George Clooney" you reply smiling a little bit.

"just hope we turn out like you two. I really like him" she follows up with.

"you want to get engaged or you really like him? they are two different things"

"you can't have both" Bruce replies with still standing in the doorframe.

a look of horror paints it's way onto her face and you quickly have to reassure her you were kidding. you turn off the curler wand start walking down the stairs, encouraging Anna to go first but she didn't want to.

you felt a little bad for Claude waiting by himself downstairs, especially because he doesn't know anyone. Bruce is different, he knows your family and max would keep him occupied anyways. Bruce sits down pulling out a chair for you next to him as he does so. Anna sits down next to Claude also and you all begin eating as everyone is super hungry. During the dinner you kept glancing to Claude to find him glancing at Bruce still starstruck and also did exactly as you said you would, you kept Anna from getting too embarrassed to the point where she wanted to leave and was actually annoyed with your parents. Although, a couple funny childhood stories would be ok but you wanted to stand up for your baby sister when things might get a bit too much.

"so" your father starts talking

"Claude, how do you plan to treat my daughter?" he continues with

"Dad" you warn looking at him trying to prevent exactly what you were afraid of

"I'm kidding. It was a joke. Calm down, care bear. If your mom's dad asked me that at seventeen I would have started sweating and crying in front of him" he admits and the table starts laughing. max too just because everyone else is-- in particular, Bruce. maybe if you weren't so tense you would have noticed it was a joke. God, you needed wine

"wine anyone?" you ask the table getting up and grabbing the bottle of wine you brought. your mom accepts and Bruce denies as he is driving and your dad jut doesn't drink. Hopefully this will help you calm down

questions are thrown at Claude to try and get to know him and he kindly answers. You soon come to the conclusion that you were worrying for no reason at all and didn't need to be so uptight. When you thought you were out of the spotlight your mom brings up an old embarrassing story of you that she promised to never tell anyone. Bruce didn't even know this.

"she went out drinking with some of her friends one time and I knew that they were drinking but she legally was allowed to so I couldn't stop her. But I think we both wish she did listen to me. I waited up for her to make sure she was ok when she came home but nobody walked through the front door, so I went to bed. Maybe she was staying at a friends house and forgot to text or she could sill be out. I don't know. I get waken up by my phone ringing at five am and guess who it is" she says pointing to you at the last part as if the whole table didn't know.

"she was whispering 'mom, can you open the front door please.' thought nothing of it besides the fact it was five am. I opened the door and she wasn't there, so I called her back and asked where she was. she told me she was waiting outside. long story short, she wasn't at our house but a completely different neighbourhood knocking on some innocent families door with some strange woman that I didn't recognise when i picked her up. she told me 'mom, this is angelina' she comes over to me and whispers 'it's angelina jolie. be nice' she thought this random woman was angelina jolie and this poor woman was just following her around because they had been talking all night."

you drop your head in shame as she finishes off the story and embarrassment, Bruce glancing over to you multiple times because he could never imagine you getting that drunk.

"to be fair, I was new to drinking, didn't know my limits and wanted to have fun. Anna, do not ever do anything like that, it was the worst i has ever been it's not worth it"

"Wait, we were together then? You were at least twenty one then" Bruce comments

"yeah, I didn't call you back for like three days." you reply

" I called your parents to make sure you were ok. do you even remember this?" he asks

"no. so this could be completely made up" you admit knowing damn well it was real because of the terrible hangover you had

"oh it was real alright" your dad pipes in

"ok, can we drop it this is embarrassing." you ask ashamed

because of this simple ask, your parents do not in fact drop it and the night ends up being all about you instead of Claude and Anna which was a bit unfair but I guess it was better than embarrassing Anna.

The night ends when Claude's parents ask him to come home. You and Bruce set off then too saying goodbye to Anna, Max and your parents sarcastically thanking them for everything they said.

As you and Bruce drive home and get ready for bed, he won't drop the subject of you getting obliterated drunk.

"I can't wait until I see Alfred next. I'm going to ask him about all the times that you got drunk beyond your limits"

and with that he was quiet and dropped the topic.

"honestly, I think Claude had the hots for you more than Anna. he was staring at you the whole dinner" you say to him

"stop, he just met THE Bruce Wayne. of course he's gonna be starstruck" he replies

"you're so full of it"

and that's how the night you were scared about ended. you were slightly embarrassed to be honest because as you knew deep down in your brain, there was nothing to worry about.

#dc #deadricslover #batman #bruce wayne #christian bale x reader #batman begins #bruce wayne x reader #christian bale #the dark knight #the batman

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heartsmadeofbooks · 1 month

Text

[Preview - New fic]: Undiscovered.

Happy Klaine day everybody!

Of course I had to do something special today, for our boys, so here’s the preview of my upcoming fic Undiscovered, which will begin on Wednesday, April 3rd. This fic will only be available on AO3, so if you read my fics on FF.net, keep in mind that I won’t be updating there anymore.

Undiscovered is both a guilty pleasure and a self-indulgence. It was born out of an idea that @blog-carmex gave me what feels like a million years ago, and it kind of exploded from there. For a while it was nothing but PWP in my head, until the perfect plot came along. So, needless to say, this might be my spiciest fic to date.

It wouldn’t exist at all, though, without @blog-carmex, who planted the seed in my head; or without @nerdishedits, who not only made the beautiful teaser cover (and is working on the actual cover) but watered that damn seed until it grew into a monstrous plant that took over half my life; or without the always amazing @christinejaneanderson, who trims the leaves and tends to its wellbeing until it looks like the perfect little plant we all knew it could be. So thanks to you, ladies, for everything.

Without further ado, here’s the preview of the first chapter, and I hope I’ll see you all for a new adventure on April 3rd!

The only sound echoing in the dining room was the cutlery gently hitting the porcelain plates. The attempts to play music in the background had been rejected, like Christmas music might ruin… what? The holiday spirit? The meal? The absolute discomfort they were now forced to sit in?

Blaine Anderson loved Christmas – he just didn’t particularly enjoy spending the holidays with his parents.

He glanced up – hazel eyes quickly roaming around the table, as if trying to find an opening, something to fill this unbearable silence. He found his brother staring back at him, eyebrows a little raised, mouth tilted in one of the corners in what could only be a sarcastic little grin. Cooper didn’t seem as uncomfortable as he was, but then again, Cooper was great at pretending nothing was wrong.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as Blaine thought it was. He was just a little less used to being home (was it even home, still? It hadn’t felt like home when he lived here, most times) since he had gone away to college. New York had embraced him like he had always belonged there, like his heart had been made to absorb the sounds of the city and turn them into heartbeats.

Blaine had never quite fit in anywhere like he belonged in New York. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t sit for dinner with his parents without feeling like he was slightly suffocating.

Cooper, completely unconcerned, pushed his plate away and sat back more comfortably. “Delicious, mom. Loved the duck. It wasn’t dry at all.”

Pam Anderson glanced up at him and smiled gently. “Thanks, dear. Glad you enjoyed it. There’s more if you want…”

“Oh, no, no, I’m stuffed,” Cooper said, patting his belly. “I got to watch my weight or they’re going to hate me at work.”

“Oh yes,” Pam said. “How’s the play going? I’m so sorry we haven’t had a chance to go see it yet. Life can be so busy, you know…”

Blaine noticed that the smile on Cooper’s face got a little more forced than usual. There was always an excuse with their parents. They were always busy. There was always something that was slightly more important than being there for their children.

They weren’t children anymore, though. They had both accepted things as they were: Pam and John Anderson would never be picture-perfect parents, not only because that was impossible, but also because they weren’t interested in it. They had scraped by doing the bare minimum to be considered good parents and called it a job well done.

Cooper had always been a bit better at accepting that, Blaine guessed. He wasn’t sure if it was because Cooper had gotten to experience them when they were younger, more open, more patient, or if he just didn’t care anymore.

Blaine would always wonder and never dare to actually ask if they had gotten bored of trying when he was born. He was a lot younger than Cooper. Maybe he had been an accident. Maybe they hadn’t exactly been planning to have another kid…

Cooper was twelve years older than Blaine. For a very, very long time, they hadn’t exactly understood each other. But at some point it was like it finally clicked for them that, if they wanted to have a family, they had to be there for each other, because their parents weren’t going to change, weren’t going to become warmer, wouldn’t be what they had always expected parents to be…

When Blaine moved to New York after high school, Cooper had surprised him by following him there. He used the excuse that he wanted to try his luck at auditioning for plays instead of staying in Los Angeles and focusing only on films and TV shows, but Blaine had seen right through his lie: he wanted to be closer to his little brother. Still, he appreciated it. They had learned to be in each other’s corners, and Blaine was grateful that Cooper had been there as he started to navigate the new city and the new stage of his life.

“The play’s wonderful,” Cooper said. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to go soon. It’ll be running for a while, I think.” He looked at Blaine, and Blaine dreaded whatever was about to come out of his brother’s mouth next. He had the habit of getting him into trouble and was absolutely no help getting him out of it afterwards. “Blaine’s been to see it a couple of times, despite how busy he’s been with his classes and everything…”

Blaine widened his eyes slightly, a silent warning that his brother completely ignored.

“Ah, yes,” their father said, finally putting down his fork, like they were finally talking about something that interested him. “Your classes, Blaine. How are they going? I expect you’ve passed every single one of them?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Blaine muttered awkwardly. He glared at Cooper once more, as his brother did encouraging gestures that were not subtle at all. He sighed. “Well, actually… I’ve made a decision regarding my major, so…”

John sat back, eyebrow arched – those thick, dark eyebrows that looked so much like Blaine’s – and fixed Blaine with a serious look. “What do you mean you’ve made a decision regarding your major? I though we’ve settled on medicine…”

We’ve settled on medicine. Like Blaine had been given a choice at all. Like it hadn’t been entirely up to John to decide what Blaine was going to do with his life.

“I’ve decided to change my major to music,” Blaine blurted out, before he could lose his nerve. “Medicine is definitely a great career, but I don’t want to be a doctor…”

“Music?” John repeated, like he didn’t understand the meaning of that word. “So another one of my children has decided to be a starving artist?”

“Hey! I’m not starving,” Cooper protested, but no one was paying attention to him for once.

“And what exactly do you plan on doing with a music education, huh?” John asked, blue eyes so much like Cooper’s fixed on Blaine like he was the only person still sitting at the table. “Play guitar in a subway station for spare change? Wait tables during the day and play at some second rate bar at night?”

Blaine moved uncomfortably on his seat. “There’s nothing wrong with any of those things, but… I actually want to compose music. Maybe for musicals, maybe for movies, maybe just… play music.”

“Just play music,” John said and scoffed. “A very solid plan, son.”

“I just don’t want to live a life I’m not satisfied with,” Blaine said a little desperately. “And I know you guys really wanted me to be some sort of successful professional, but I have to do what’s best for me, right? I have to be happy with myself when I get out of bed in the morning…”

Pam seemed to notice the tension was growing, because she tried to smooth things over: “Of course, Blaine. We understand. Your father is just concerned that…”

But John shook his head, stopping her. “That is an incredibly childish outlook on life, Blaine. Happiness is ephemeral. You need a steady income and a respectable career…”

“Who says I can’t get that?” Blaine asked him. Part of him was starting to get angry, but the rest of him, the larger part that was usually too careful, too prone to put his head down whenever his father barked an order at him wouldn’t let the anger truly rise. “Why can’t you just… believe in me?”

John groaned, like he didn’t have the time for his children’s dreamy dispositions. “I don’t know where we went wrong with you two. I thought we raised you to have a good head on your shoulders.”

Blaine glanced at Cooper, who looked like he had just been slapped. He felt a bit like that, too. He had expected some resistance to his new career path, but their father was being overly harsh. He didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry if you don’t agree with me,” he said quietly. “But it’s my life. I want to do what I think is right.”

Slowly, John nodded, like he was considering Blaine’s words. Then he stood up, leaving the napkin carefully on the table. “Very well. Do whatever you want. But I won’t be paying for it.”

“John…” Pam started. “Let’s not be hasty…”

“I’m not going to put him through college just so he can throw his life away, Pam!” John exclaimed.

“We can talk about this some other day,” Pam insisted. “It’s Christmas, John.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” John replied. “He’s free to do whatever he wants, of course. He can spend the rest of his days scraping by and counting dimes so he can make rent. I’m not going to help him in any way. Pay your way through college, Blaine. And if you ever come to your senses and realize you’ve made a mistake, I’ll be more than happy to help you get a real degree.”

He walked out of the dining room, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence.

Cooper cleared his throat. “Well,” he muttered after a couple of minutes. “What’s for desert, then?”

Blaine pushed his plate away. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

#Fic: Undiscovered #Klaine #Klaine fic #Klaine fanfic

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mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS * collection #7

if you want to stop by and finish this conversation, you're welcome anytime.

you really believe your little story's gonna make a difference when there's a gun to our heads?

it was dreadful of me to even suggest it.

one day you'll meet someone and it'll literally take your breath away.

i thought somebody stole it.

so it's always just about sex, then?

welcome to new york!

you really are something.

i'm ready to be done with this.

oh, i'd like that.

and i thought i performed the perfect murder.

we're not together.

we made history today.

how does a man get shot from the front and have the body land here?

we've been over this before.

the whole country is watching you. they just don't know it.

be careful with that thing.

there are only bad options. it's about finding the best one.

i'm starving.

here. buy yourself a personality.

i'm gonna leave this coat in the car.

i took this meeting out of respect, because i wanted to say no to your face.

what is it about me that you find so irresistable?

it's gonna haunt you for the rest of your days.

you won't be alone.

i've been in love. i went down the rabbit hole.

i really have to stop buying into this bullshit hollywood cliche of true love.

remind me never to play poker in this town.

no one will think less of you.

you know what i discovered?

you can walk away.

my ears pop in an elevator.

let me clear your head up for you. i had absolutely nothing to do with the crime.

in your condition, i should call the police.

i knew you could do it!

why do i get the feeling this is the first real commitment you've ever made?

you have a boat?

if we wanted applause, we would have joined the circus.

maybe i'll give it to you.

this is what i do. i get people out. and i've never left anyone behind.

you know i love you, don't you?

you got a gun on you?

i'm trying to explain something that is not explainable.

you've been checking up on me.

i really don't have any choice.

i would like you to bullshit me.

could you do me a favor?

you are trespassing. get down from the sign.

this is the best bad idea we have.

what, you guys going out now?

sometimes a man has to be big enough to see how small he is.

whatever i hear, i won't believe.

would you order me something while you're there?

why in the shit would we do that?

i saved myself.

i wouldn't qualify for that.

i don't remember having a good time.

don't fucking shoot anybody.

i'm just doing my job.

this is your last warning.

are you trying to make me mad?

why are you telling me this?

then why the hell did you agree to do it?

do you want to live here?

you've got a good ear for music.

what an unpleasant surprise.

i hope you were watching carefully.

no, we're just friends. we're messing around a little bit.

brace yourself. it's like talking to those two old fucks on the muppets.

i've been poor my whole life.

how's someone supposed to make a living here?

how the fuck have you managed to stay out of prison for a year?

how are you doing today?

i'm not here to pry into your personal life.

how keen of you to notice.

who's the target audience?

i'm tired of the way they look at me.

now if we get separated, i'll know where to meet up.

i like this side of you.

you say one more word, and i'll cut you down right here.

i'm not gonna kill you. not like this.

we did suicide missions in the army that had better odds than this.

you want me to be honest with you?

i didn't know, but i'm always glad to hear that.

you'll fit right in.

give me your pants!

i forgot to add the iced tea.

why don't they ever make a movie about what happens after they kiss?

where did you find that? i've been looking all over for it.

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security-chief-odo · 6 months

Text

The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 2

Eliot Spencer (Leverage) x Reader

Read chapter 1 here

Word Count: ~1.6k

Summary: The rehearsal and rehearsal dinner kick off the wedding weekend. Will your family believe your lie, will you be able to keep your feelings a secret from Eliot?

• • •

In the weeks before Eliot and you had already laid out an iron-clad backstory and decided that some PDA would be necessary when your family is around. Even with your plan falling into place, getting in the car to go has you beyond nervous. Though you can’t say your family is what has you so nervous about this trip anymore.

The wedding venue is a two hour drive from the loft and Elliot insists on driving, an offer you gladly accept so you could get a nap in before dealing with the chaos this weekend has in store.

Both you and Eliot are nicely dressed already as you were heading straight to the rehearsal dinner. Eliot is donning a light gray suit that fits him a little too well. You’re wearing a cocktail dress, which leaves you shivering as the evening chill rolls in with the sunset as you near the venue.

You stir from your slumber to the sound of Eliot whispering your name. At some point during the drive he must have taken his jacket off because you now found it wrapped around you like a blanket.

There is no way you’ll survive this weekend if just the smell of his cologne on his jacket has you ready to confess your feelings, but it’s too late to back out now.

Finally looking out the window, you see you’re at the wedding venue, so you sit up as Eliot gets out of the car. You stretch lightly as he opens your car door. He takes the jacket and folds it on his arm, offering you his other hand to help you out of the car.

“How do I look?” you look down at your outfit before looking up at him for an answer.

“Almost perfect, may I?” he asks. You nod and he begins adjusting your necklace that had gone askew as you rested, then he fixes the few strands of hair that no longer laid as neatly as before. “Now you look perfect.”

Your face flushed as you looked into his eyes, “Thank you again for doing this whole thing for me. You’re really saving my ass here.”

“Happy to help darlin’” He offers you his arm to hold as he gestures towards the doors.

The rehearsal goes off without a hitch, and you now find yourself seated at the restaurant, with Eliot’s arm resting on the back of your chair.

He is sitting next to your mom who just can’t seem to get enough of him. As she regales him with stories about your family drama, he moves his hand to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. Your breath hitches as he absentmindedly traces his thumb across your leg.

Neither you nor Eliot have been drinking much, but the flush on your cheeks could have the whole room fooled.

Your mom, on the other hand, is just past tipsy when Eliot excuses himself to go to the bathroom. As he gets up he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’ll be right back sweetheart.”

You not-so-subtly check out his ass as he exits the room and you take a sip of the glass of wine you've been nursing all night. Your mom leans in and tells you “That man is a keeper.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Do you not see him y/n?” your mom is looking at you incredulously, “He’s gorgeous, a perfect gentleman, and don’t even get me started on the way he looks at you.”

So maybe it wouldn’t be too hard to convince your family of your relationship after all. Eliot has clearly already sold your mother on it, perhaps a little too well. “I don’t know, mom. I’m not sure he’s as into me as I am into him. It’s only been a couple months anyways”

You figure sprinkling in the truth will make it more believable when your eventual “break up” happens, and at least they'll feel bad enough to comfort you once you're through breaking your own heart. You put yourself in this situation, so you swallow your disappointment down with another sip of wine.

“Honey, Eliot looks at you like you hung the moon and stars,” she pauses, seemingly lost in thought, “ I think you’re wrong about him.” She shrugs and walks away to go talk to your sister.

You can practically feel your blood run cold as James, your ex-boyfriend, approaches you for the first – and hopefully last – time this weekend. “You should listen to your mother. You’re definitely wrong about your new boy toy.”

He clearly has only caught the last bit of your mom’s statement. A fact that becomes more evident as he continues on with his drunken rambling. “He probably only came here with you because you’re dressed like a fucking whore. He just thinks he can get some, but that’s not gonna happen. We both know you’re still not over me.”

“Fuck off, James.” you spit out quietly, hoping not to make a scene.

“Why? Can’t handle the truth sweetheart?” That word had felt so right when Eliot had said it, but it now felt like poison on your ears.

“Don’t call me that.” you move to walk away but he blocks your path.

“Oh,” he laughs with a venom to his voice that is all too familiar to you. “Now I get it, maybe pretty boy is right. You did move on – by moving under every guy in town. Maybe this one’s just bored enough to keep a slut like you around, at least until the next girl with daddy issues and–.”

Before you could get another word in, Eliot comes to your rescue. He isn’t exactly sure what is happening but his heart breaks a little when he sees the relief cross your face at his arrival. He wraps a protective arm around you “Hey beautiful,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. This left James to walk away in a huff.

Eliot pulled you into a hug, kicking himself for ever leaving you alone. He excused himself to the bathroom just to collect himself. Every time he holds you, every time you brush his hair back, every time your eyes meet, he feels terrified you’ll figure out just how in love he really is. He has been in love with you from the moment you joined the team.

He is supposed to be here to make your weekend easier, but let you down because he can’t control his emotions. He whispers in your ear, “You ok?” and his body relaxes when you nod against his chest.

Pulling away, you rest a hand on his chest while his hands settle on your waist. “He’s just drunk and thinks he can still get under my skin. It’s no big deal, really.”

“Well why don’t we head back to the hotel anyways? Tomorrow will be a long day” Your heart sinks a little, knowing that behind closed doors, you’ll just go back to being friends. No arm around you, no hand resting right above your knee, and no more kissing.

***

You get your key card from the front desk and grab your bags from the car. Opening up the door to the room, you stop dead in your tracks. Your sister had booked you a single bed. Of course she had. You were staying with your “boyfriend”, so what else would she have done?

Eliot enters behind you and notices your predicament. The way you’ve frozen confirms all of his fears about how you feel about him. “It’s ok, I’ll just call down for some extra bedding and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, I’ll do that. You’re doing me a favor. The least I can do is let you have the bed.”

He moves closer, some of the nervous tension having dissipated, “Darlin’ you’ll be up and on your feet all day tomorrow, in heels no less. You need it more than I do.”

“Well I’m not going to sleep unless you take the bed.”

“Well I won’t either until you do. Two can play at this game sweetheart.”

You’d be lying if you said the pet names didn’t make you feel something, and maybe that’s why you say “Well then I guess we’ll have to share.”

The challenging look in your eyes as you stare Eliot down fills his body with a familiar warmth, and maybe that’s why he replies, “I guess so.”

With that resolved you grab your pajamas and take a quick shower before heading to bed. When you exit the bathroom in your short shorts and tank top, Eliot is lying shirtless on his side of the bed with a movie playing on the TV.

An almost silent tension fills the room as you both struggle between checking the other out, and desperately avoiding checking the other out for fear of being caught.

You climb into bed and settle in, watching the movie Eliot had turned on. He had been watching 10 Things I Hate About You, so you turn to him with a questioning look and wordlessly point to the TV.

Immediately defensive, “What? This is a goddamn cinematic masterpiece.”

“Fair enough. Just didn’t peg you for a rom-com kinda guy.”

“Well there’s plenty you don’t know about me y/n”

With your amusement evident in your voice, you reply “Goodnight, Eliot”

“Goodnight, doll.”

You both drift off to sleep, only dreaming of each other’s touch.

• • •

Taglist: @mini-kunoichi @javicstories @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @being-worthy @xkell-bellx @imaginecrushes

Let me know what you think or if you want to be added to the series taglist!

Read chapter 3 here!

#reader insert #eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer/reader #leverage fanfic #there was only one bed #one bed trope #leverage fic #wedding #the fake dating job #fake dating #eliot spencer #eliot spencer fanfic

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doberbutts · 3 months

Note

Hi, I recently came across a post of yours that said

"The only thing men have to lose from supporting feminism is misogyny. Feminism is not about tearing men down. It is about lifting women up."

I disagree with this assertion. Well, the first one at least, I absolutely agree with the second one.

I think men, materially speaking, do have things to lose from supporting feminism, aside from just misogyny.

Men would lose the ability to take advantage of women's labor. Either for free in the form of labor around the house, or for cheap by paying them less compared to men (this usually being achieved by relegating the majority of women in the workforce to positions that have been devalued as a result of being associated with womanhood, like teachers or nannies or housekeepers and so on).

I don't believe it's dangerous to acknowledge that oppressors dont have material reasons to cease their oppression, because after all if they they would've stopped a long time ago. Misogyny is pervasive not because of some pure ideological effort, but rather because it's a convenient excuse for the people in power to take advantage of a quite large subset of the world population (and as consequence spread as an ideology).

Of course I do think that quite a lot of men, once they understand this reality, would choose to reject the privilege being offered to them as they recognize accepting it would mean taking part in and upholding the system, but in doing so they're clearly not only giving up misogyny, but a tangible advantage in life that would make their lives easier (not to mention that, even if they did want to do this, the system is nonetheless pervasive and inescapable in its current form, so they would still benefit regardless of their intention. That's male privilege, after all)

I also do believe that men of all sorts suffer from living under the system. I reject the idea that all men equally benefit from it and that none ever feel its aftereffects. That being said, I do still think it's relevant to acknowledge that even men whose manhood is questioned by the system (either rejected or seen as a threat or any other way in which it doesn't fit the perfect idea of a wealthy abled cishet white man) and suffer as a result are rewarded for being men in the first place, even if they can't take full advantage of the benefits reserved for the ideal male archetype.

(I'm largely leaving my thoughts on how trans men fit in all this because I believe that to be a fairly complicated discussion)

I hope I don't come across as picking a fight or arguing in bad faith, and I'm open to hearing counterpoints if you feel differently from me (of course, if you even care to engage at all. Feel free to ignore this if that's not the case)

I mean I don't think you're picking a fight I just think you're dramatically misunderstanding what I'm saying, partially to the point where you're saying you disagree while repeating my logic back at me.

Men have nothing to lose from supporting feminism except misogyny. Taking advantage of women's labor is, in fact, misogyny.

Feminism is not about tearing men down but about lifting women up. Yes, by losing male privilege, one could I suppose argue that there are a lot of losses that come with that. To me, that is not a material loss, because the only thing we'd be removing is the entitlement to that privilege.

When I say feminism is not about tearing men down but about lifting women up, what I mean is this:

There is a fairly well documented pay gap, with men of most demographics being paid higher (even if marginally so) than women of equal demographic. Fixing the pay gap isn't lowering men's salaries. It's raising women's. What they have stays the same. What they lose is the ability to pay women less- the misogyny.

There is a fairly well documented disparity regarding women in the workplace vs men, especially in physical labor and in STEM. Fixing this issue does not remove jobs for men- it judges job candidates on their actual ability instead of sex or gender.

This is also what I mean when I say this contributes to a net positive for both sides: don't hire a shitty welder just because he's the only man applying. Hire any number of the experienced and proven welders that are women who also applied. Return to teaching welding in schools, get any kid interested in the trade the knowledge they need to start. This will not only improve the quality of the trade skills your specific employer has to offer, but it will also improve the quality of trade skills for the future generation that will replace you when you retire or die. Literally the only thing men have to lose in this situation is misogyny- the misogyny of keeping women out of the workforce, and the misogyny of keeping women from learning the trade in the first place. They get more qualified people working and all for the low low cost of not being a jerk to women.

Misogyny, like most oppression, is about control. It is not about making things better for just one demographic, because often time that very same demographic does suffer under that oppressive system while simultaneously benefitting from it. As said in my previous example, continuing to hire shitty welders just because they're dudes while deliberately passing up good welders just because they're women just makes things worse for everyone.

Not accepting college applicants just because they're women while taking substandard men who can't get in without daddy's money just makes things worse for everyone.

Continuously questioning the credentials of accomplished and professional women traching a class while nodding along in agreement to some jerk-off man's half-assed non-researched opinion on twitter just makes things worse for everyone.

Voting for Old White Man #736194 because his opponents with politics that align more closely with what the country wants- and needs- are women just makes things worse for everyone.

Ditch the misogyny. That's all. Level the playing field by actually bringing women up to the standard we've set for men. Feminism is about lifting women up.

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fushigurro · 6 months

Text

𝑪𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑻𝒀.

pairing. — dental hygienist!eren jaeger x gn!reader

word count. — 1.3k

content. — suggestive content (no actual smut but still, mdni), mentions of candy/eating, dentist office setting, mentions of reader having dental anxiety and possible oral fixation, mentions of some questionable dental practice (but nothing bad happens to reader), no actual procedures are done but reader is told they have cavities, i think that's it sorry i'm trying to be thorough because until recently this shit seriously bothered me lmao so i don't want to upset anybody!

notes. — it is upon us!! i know it's like a couple of hours until halloween (at least where i'm at) but i wanted to post this while i was riding the high of finishing this up. this is my entry for @bastardblvd 's house of slimy horrors collab! my prompt was "candy" and i took this as an opportunity to thirst over dental hygienist!eren and lowkey further heal from my dentophobia lol. but i hope you enjoy! (divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

The distinct stench of the dentist’s office seems to fill your nostrils with increasing potency the longer you sit in the waiting room, anticipating the moment when your name will be called and you will be one step closer to being able to just leave. Your nerves are wracked despite the simple reason for your visit (a routine exam and cleaning) because this place never fails to nearly make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It seems fitting that Halloween is only a couple of days away, and you wish you could pop a piece of candy directly into your mouth to give yourself something pleasant to focus on.

Whether it be because of the rather off-putting and…eccentric cohort of licensed(?) dentists or the generally apathetic hygienist that is always hovering over you, your appointments consistently end on a note of complete and utter desperation to just get the hell out of there. You’re already bouncing your knee and anxiously counting down the seconds until it happens. The Halloween decorations, though relatively jovial in nature, don’t particularly make you feel any more at ease. You almost envy the fake skeleton in the corner for its perfect set of teeth.

You’re jostled out of your bored but nervous daze by a rather low utterance of your name coming from the doorway to the back. You stand from your seat and look over to see a familiar face: a young man with dark hair tied back to keep it out of his brilliant green eyes and expressionless—but handsome—features. You recognize him as the same hygienist to have taken care of you last time (was his name Adrian? Aaron?), and although his rather unenthusiastic presence leaves something to be desired, you can’t help but take the slightest bit of comfort in it. If nothing else, you at least remember him being thorough and competent enough for you to not be so on edge.

“Sorry for the wait,” he says as he walks you down the hall and to a room on the left where an empty chair is there waiting for you, and beside it a small table adorned with the various cleaning instruments all laid out in a neat line. You quickly take a seat and let him prepare the x-ray machine and place the heavy protective sheet over you shortly after.

“I’m gonna grab a few x-rays first, alright?” he explains, voice tinted with the slightest bit of friendliness. You get the sense that he’s not the most talkative of beings and that bedside manner isn’t exactly his favorite part of the job, but you at least appreciate the hint of effort you can detect. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s rather enjoyable to look at, either; not to mention the smooth sound of his voice and the way his eyes seem to linger on you for a few seconds too long.

“Bite down on this for me,” he instructs, placing an odd contraption in front of your mouth and waiting for you to open so that he can get on with the x-rays. He’s almost a little intimidating, looming over you and giving quiet orders in your direction, but you can’t deny that there’s something appealing about opening your mouth for him, even if it’s so he can place uncomfortable equipment in it. Maybe it’s the escapist part of your brain trying to forget about the stress of the appointment, but it can’t hurt to have a few indulgent thoughts during the process, can it? Whatever works to get you out of here with your sanity, right? You don’t reckon most people are lucky enough to have such an attractive hygienist, so you might as well appreciate it while you can.

You repeat this process a few more times—opening, closing, opening, closing—until he’s finally done and removing the lead sheet from your torso. Twiddling your thumbs restlessly, you watch as he examines the images on his screen, giving you a few moments to really look him over. You’re less concerned with the results of the x-rays than you are with observing his body—it looks rather toned even beneath the scrubs he’s wearing, and you wonder what sort of things he does in his free time. Going to the gym seems highly likely, but perhaps he’s outdoorsy? Is he a weightlifter, or does he go on hikes? Play sports? Is he good at other physical things—?

Your thoughts are cut short by his voice breaking the silence. “Looks like there’s some decay on a couple of your bottom molars,” he states, walking back over to you and placing a gloved thumb on your chin. “Open for me?”

You obey and lower your jaw, giving him space to lean in and take a peek at your back teeth. He’s much closer now, brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to focus in with his eyes, and there’s a faint but pleasant masculine scent capturing your attention. Maybe it’s a spritz of cologne or his body wash taking over your senses, but whatever it is, it’s certainly more alluring than you’d like for it to be, especially with the way you can practically feel his breath fanning over your skin. It only lasts for a second before he’s pulling away, and you’re warmer than usual.

“Yeah,” he says conclusively, taking a seat on the stool next to you and bringing the mask up over his mouth and nose, which… he probably should’ve done before getting in your face a few moments ago, but you honestly aren’t complaining. He looks and smells clean, and you’re already mourning the loss of the sight of his lips. “I’ll let the doc take a look, but you’ll probably need a little work done.”

“Is it bad?” you ask a bit too quickly from the jitters, his words not exactly what you were hoping to hear today.

Eren shakes his head in response. “No, nothing serious. Just looks like maybe you’ve been laying it a little heavy on the sugar lately.”

You don’t like the sudden feeling of being accused or interrogated, but you suppose that’s simply part of his job. With an ashamed look on your face, you cast your glance to the side. “Yeah. Maybe.” You don’t like to admit it at the dentist’s office, but in recent months you’d developed somewhat of a bad habit of sucking on candies and lollipops on the regular. Your sugar consumption had only increased since the beginning of October, which certainly couldn’t be helping the problem. “I guess I’ve gotten a little too used to munching on all the extra candy lately.” You chuckle to try and lighten the mood. “Maybe I have an oral fixation or something.”

It’s hard to fully read his face beneath the mask, but you see him quirk a brow as he starts to lean your chair back for your cleaning. “Yeah?” he asks, somewhat intrigued.

You’re staring up at him now, watching as those beautiful eyes fixate on your body and then your lips. Sure, it’s his job to make keen observations about your mouth, and maybe it’s just wishful thinking on your behalf, but you can swear the way he stares at you is less than medical in nature. It’s not easy for you to keep from squirming and hide that very same look in your own eyes.

“Mhm,” you reply simply, gaze glued to his face.

Slowly, Eren pulls the mask back down below his chin and leans in closer than necessary, letting you see the way his lips part and how his eyes go half-lidded. He brings his thumb back up to your mouth but slips it inside this time, fascinated with the way you instantly close down around it. “I think we should find another way to keep you occupied,” he says, voice even lower than usual in a way that makes your heart gallop. “Don’t wanna let candy be what ruins your pretty mouth, do you?”

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #my writing.#re: eren jaeger

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lurkingshan · 7 months

Note

Hi Shan!

I hope you're doing well and thank you for all your metas and recs. They are always such a great read!

I have realised that I am quite anxious about currently airing shows not sticking the landing (IFYLITA mostly, I only seem to care about this one recently). You may have previously written about it(?), but which dramas (BL or otherwise), do you think have the most satisfying endings?

Oh, and bonus question, do you have an ending that you approve of, was really good and all, but you would never ever rewatch it because of *too many feels*?

Hey Kat! Thanks for the ask. I totally get the fear of a bad ending, it has soured many a drama experience, and sometimes it really does take you off guard. I feel like when most dramas end I'm just happy if the ending doesn't retroactively ruin anything, let alone it actually being meaningfully good. I had to think about this for a minute, but I do think there are some dramas where the ending is so good it actually enhances the overall story and watch experience.

First, a few that I would classify as having really lovely happy endings that feel very well-earned after lots of pain and strife

My Lovely Sam Soon

This drama is a classic from 2005, and it caught me off guard with how invested I got. It's a pretty standard romcom about a quirky "fat" (*stares into the camera*) woman who gets hired by a chaebol restaurant owner. They start out adversarial before eventually falling in love, with the hero working through his surprising feelings for this woman who does not fit his image of his ideal partner and the heroine overcoming her own body image and self-esteem issues. Sounds basic, right? But something about it just works. At the end, the heroine sings a love song to her beau with her terrible singing voice while he looks on adoringly, and something about it was just so touching that I actually burst into tears.

My Mister

One of my favorite endings of any drama ever. Our heroine Ji An has been through it, and via a platonic relationship with her older boss, she gets the support she needs to turn her life around. I spent half of this drama white knuckling in fear that they would try to turn the relationship romantic, but they stayed true to the purpose of this narrative. Instead of a romance, we end with the two of them running into each other on the street after a time skip. They meet eyes, he sees that she is happy and well and they just smile gently at each other. Perfection.

The Untamed

Possibly a controversial pick, given that this is significantly altered from the novel, which has a much better resolution to the romance. But given the constraints this adaptation was under and the need to keep the relationship ambiguous for censorship reasons, I think this show did a remarkable job of getting the romance across. This ending where they meet again on a hillside, Lan Wangji calls his name, Wei Wuxian turns and we see a smile slowly light his face up is absolutely beautiful and a very romantic note to leave us on.

This second group of endings are more bittersweet resolutions, but ones I thought really added to the poignancy of the stories and made the relationships feel all the more epic

Bad Buddy

Something that always surprises me about the way people talk about BBS is they often seem to...forget that the ending is actually really fucking sad? I guess because the couple is together and still happy with each other, folks overlook the deep melancholy of the circumstances under which they are able to maintain their relationship. So let me remind you! Pat and Pran are in a long distance relationship, they are still not out to anyone but their closest friends, and they are forced to put on a charade in front of their families so everyone can carry on pretending. They are still hiding, their family relationships are irreparably altered, and we know it's a constant strain on them. It's a perfect bittersweet note to drive home the serious sacrifices they are making in the name of filial piety even as they refuse to give each other up.

Crash Landing on You

Switzerland, the true MVP of this story. Se Ri and Jung Hyeok do not have the option of simply choosing one of their home countries to live in together, and both have obligations they cannot abandon at home. And so in the end they settle for being mostly apart, taking time together in neutral territory as often as they can manage. Is it enough? No, but it's better than moving on from each other.

Goblin

This story is a tragedy and it stuck to its guns on that while also finding a way to give the characters (and the viewers) some kind of happiness to hang onto. Shin is doomed to live forever and watch Eun Tak die over and over again, but at least he also gets to meet and be with her before each death. Him meeting her again in her second life, with the looming knowledge that he will outlive her again and be left alone, is a perfect combination of joyful and mournful, very appropriate for this story.

I Promised You the Moon

One of my favorite romance endings ever, because it does what the genre rarely allows in acknowledging that the couple may not, in fact, stay together forever, and that's okay. Oh-Aew decides to take Teh back because he wants to be with him and he hopes they may be better equipped to deal with their issues in the future, not because he feels confident things will not go wrong again. In fact, he directly acknowledges that they probably will. It's a very mature resolution and a fitting end to a coming of age story.

Someday or One Day

This time travel story ends with the leads deciding to break the loop they have been living in, sacrificing their romantic relationship in the process. It's a brave and selfless choice made to protect others, and the narrative rewards them by giving them some hope of another path to each other in the future. We leave them meeting again at a different time with a significant age gap and no memory of each other, and a hope that they will find a way to each other in this new reality.

These next two kind of stand on their own as unique, as I have not seen other dramas that pull off what their endings do

The Glory

The best thing about this drama is that it's a revenge story where the revenge is fully carried out, no one is given unearned redemption, and every character gets exactly what they deserve. That probably shouldn't be revelatory, but in my experience, it is! Asian dramas love to hand out unearned redemption to villainous characters, but this drama was simply Not. Having. It. It was such a satisfying watch.

Utsukushii Kare

The ending of this one pulled off the neat trick of reframing everything that came before it, flipping the perspective so that nothing about previous events actually changed, but our understanding of what it all meant was turned on its head. This is a difficult writing trick that requires deep understanding of your characters' psychology and full command of every detail of your story, and it was incredibly impressive. It instantly turned it into one of my all-time favorites.

Bonus question: Dramas with endings that were fantastic, but that made me never want to watch again because of the feels

I had to think on this one a bit because I actually really enjoy getting into my feelings over dramas and regularly torture myself by rewatching sad shit. But I did come up with two dramas that I probably won't ever watch again for different reasons: The Red Sleeve and Secret Love Affair. With TRS, it's rooted in a specific kind of pain that I found quite brutal as a viewer: the total denial of any moment of happy catharsis, which was an intentional and appropriate choice to underline its message. This is a love story that the heroine did not want or choose, and so she never gives in and embraces it, and neither can we. The show refuses to romanticize the concubine life and I respect it, but boy was it hard to watch.

With SLA, it's more a matter of the anxiety it provokes. That drama was, hands down, the most stressful watch experience of my life, even more than thrillers that are intentionally trying to stress me out! The romance is actually super compelling but you can't relax for a moment because everything is on a knife's edge. And the ending was not at all happy, but somehow still managed to feel like a breath of fresh air for both the heroine and us, because we finally escaped that confining dynamic she was trapped in. A perfect ending to a brilliant drama and also a watch experience I am not looking to repeat.

#bad buddy #crash landing on you #the untamed #goblin #the glory #utsukushii kare #i promised you the moon #someday or one day #drama recs #drama endings #thanks again for the ask!#i do love an excuse to ramble about my favorite dramas #shan answers #shan recommends

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thesamoanqueen · 1 year

Text

The naughty list

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: Smut; The Tribal Chief vs Santa.

A/N: I gave into Christmas atmosphere... more or less. Requested by @nayys-world

He loved his job, he really did, even though it hadn't been his first choice as a kid. He had dedicated himself to it with every fiber of his body and didnt regret any of the decisions he had made, cause they had really led him to be at the top of his mountain, to get results. But sometimes he really wanted to turn off the phone and get out of sight for a few hours, because unlike what people out there believed, that job didn't let you stop, and if you were on top of that mountain, like him, the phone calls, appointments and commitments came all the time even when you were at home trying to enjoy two days of peace. Like that afternoon.

He closed the front door with a heavy breath, Hayes' voice and his proposals for the next feud still in his ears, as he recrossed the living room and returned to the home theater, being hit by another kind of noise. On the screen was passing the umpteenth suggestion of a Christmas movie to watch, but Roman paid little attention to it, suddenly too busy watching Y/N swing her hips next to the counter of the small kitchen inside the room.

- I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes… Christmas is all around us and so the feelings grows – she was singing lost in her own world together with the screen and Roman sat down on one of the dark armchairs, barely holding back from laughing.

She was so damn off-key and every time Roman heard her sing he wanted to hide her in his arms and make her disappear. It was strange, unthinkable, because in his eyes there was nothing in which Y/N wasn't perfect, but singing wasn't her thing, even when it was for herself as in this case or it was a matter of a few banal verses, she wasn't quite capable and he found her adorable. If she didn't care or didn't realize it, it wasn't clear, but she definitely should have stopped for the greater good and yet all the times he'd been around, he hadn't been able to stop her. And he wouldn't have done it that time either, because despite everything, seeing her wriggling around in that sweater that definitely didn't fit for Florida, between bowls of Christmas snacks that would make them sweat in the gym for hours, was worth the pain in his ears.

- You gave your presents to me and I gave mine to you… I need Santa beside me in everything I do!

God, was it worth it. It was definitely better than any movie she or his cousins would have chosen in the end, hands down and after another ending gone bad, Roman fidgeted in the armchair, struggling without being able to hold back the laughter that was folding him in two.

- Ro – Y/N called him, setting down the bottle of beer she was holding in her hand, discovering him again there with her, while he was still gasping – Weren't the twins at the door? Why are you laughing? - she asked and Roman tried as best he could to compose himself, reaching out an arm to bring her closer.

- Lemme understand hm, you… felt it in your toes. - he investigated forcing a serious expression that didn't succeed at all and Y/N threw a salted caramel popcorn at him.

She and the twins were due to leave before him the next morning to record a couple of promos and view some new merch to go on sale, but since they were all in the area – not her, but Roman had made everything to make it happen – they had decided to spend the day together. The twins had actually bonded as soon as they figured out Y/N was there, he'd had other things planned, but even a night of bad Christmas movies would have been fine. He liked having her in his own home, just having her away from their rhythms, with him.

- You Florida men have no sense of Christmas. No cookie frosting for you later.

Amused and quick, Roman grabbed her hips covered by the sweater, stopping her between one armchair and another while she tried not to drop popcorn everywhere, remaining precariously balanced.

- Lemme go. Lemme go! You're definitely on Santa's naughty list!— she kicked as Roman lifted her by her hips, downing the popcorn she'd tossed at him as he pulled her into the seat with him.

- Who cares?! Why sit on Santa's lap, when you can sit on the Tribal Chief's lap? – he joke with one of his smiles and from his lap, Y/N's eyes widened between incredulous and amused.

- That's the most evil thing I've ever heard.

- And I've a beard too - he insisted confident, taking the bowl from her hand to place it on an seat next to them and Y/N nodded suddenly serious.

- I like your beard – she admitted shamelessly, stroking his jaw and Roman instantly bent over her, to inspire some of her scent.

- I know... - he muttered, his hands working their way up her back and between her legs, feeling the soft texture of her thighs.

He kissed her cheek, drawing a childish laugh and an endless string down her neck, blowing his breath on her and unhurriedly enjoying the moment. He pulled her against him, reaching down to the neckline of his sweater to suck on the flesh of her protruding collarbone and Y/N rested her chin against his temple, giggling in amusement once more.

Having her this way… away from everything, with no one suspecting anything or investigating why they were both gone. Without limits, without haste. Her.

- You give presents too? – Y/N inquired curiously, her nails already scratching his neck and nape, while she rocked a little on his thighs – ‘Cause, Im not sure about me... Im very selective with who I want to be good or bad with. Is it okay for the Tribal Chief?

And she really was, Roman knew that. Y/N was the perfect kind of trouble, the good girl that knew when to be mean and as much as he tried to be a gentleman, well, between them always ended up that way. And if she kept grinding like that, would end up even worse…

- We'll see babygirl. – he said in a rough voice, rubbing a fingertip on her thigh, while he pulled her against his chest – And its 'my Tribal Chief'.

He saw her looking down at him from the narrow space between them, her eyes gleaming with that sparkle he'd learned to love and he smashed his lips against hers, ripping away the smile she had. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet but not cloying, her lips were soft and ready to welcome him in all his forms. She almost always left him in control, whether he demanded it or not, but she never missed an opportunity to set him straight and when her teeth caught his bottom lip it was reminded once again. He slipped his big arm around her hips, helping her to get comfortable on top of him and forcefully insinuated his tongue into her mouth, immediately feeling her soften with a moan of agreement. Her hips rocked without holding back, seeking more intimate contact and Roman tightened his grip, almost crushing her against him at her instinctive request. He held her by her thighs as her fingers slid over his face, through his beard and down to his tattooed pectoral, holding him against her lips even though he had no intention of catching his breath. Eyes closed, he enjoyed the comforting warmth of her body and dug his fingers into her curves, her laughter muffled in his ears along with the muffled, distant noise of the screen.

He would have gladly stood there and kissed her for the rest of the day and he really meant to, but she didn't seem to feel the same way and Roman growled softly, not taking his mouth off hers, to keep her still when her hips grinded one too many times on his boner now awake. Y/N sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling away enough for them both to catch their breaths and Roman watched, her expression not sorry as her hands slipped under his sweatshirt to touch his abs. He plunged his face into her neck, abandoning her red lips for a few moments and devoted himself to the portion of her skin where she was most sensitive, on the curve between her neck and shoulder, making her tremble with a sigh all around him. Her body seemed to almost curl up, her nails hooking her to him and encouraging him to continue, her hips pressing restlessly.

- You can be louder than that here – he reminded her, torturing her neck up to her ear.

- S-so make me - she pushed him tenaciously, despite already having accelerated breathing and Roman didn't have her to repeat it twice.

His mouth was hungry against her again, one hand pressing into her curls to keep her with him and the other squeezing her round buttock. Y/N meowed for his attentions, but he had other things on his mind and lifted her skirt up to her hips to reach the lace underwear she had been wearing. He ran her fingers along the material, following the curve of her ass and indulged in a low growl as he slid further down, his fingertips immediately feeling moist from her hot humor.

Her useless lace lingerie getting soaked in that shameful way were a constant attack on the good intentions he didn't have.

He rubbed his fingertip, pressing just enough to distract her and he immediately felt her lean into him, her ass lifting to give him more access and he slid his free hand elsewhere, finding the hook of her bra without even having to look for it. He quickly released her, pulling down the side of her sweater as well and buried his face in the hollow of her breasts to kiss her soft, full skin. Y/N vibrated all around him, her legs pressing into his thighs and her ragged breath slamming against his temple as he caught one of her hard nipples to suck on.

- G-God more… more - she moaned, her tone more and more needy.

Roman ran his tongue around the sensitive flesh, her heart pounding under his fingers and got lost in her curves, touching and tasting everywhere, greedy. Her breaths became heavy and the rocking of her hips against his hand increasingly insistent, he felt her wriggling and writhing on top of him, slowly losing control of her body and he ran his fingers past the wet fabric of her panties to immerse himself inside her folds. The intrusion made her moan like a cry and Roman waited no more, starting to pump her soft and warm cunt with his fingers, without taking his mouth off her breasts. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him against her body as if he were her lifeline and he let her, because with her, being close was never close enough.

- F-fuck Ro! – she gasped, deeply as he twisted his fingers to touch her sweet spot.

- It feels good? - he grinned pleased, widening and slowing down to make it a nice torture - my fingers making you feel good? - his thumb circling her nipple.

Y/N nodded with a sigh, her hips sweeping his now sodden hand from the juices and Roman soon felt her folds contract against him, holding back the two fingers he had slipped inside her as if they wanted to suck it up. They weren't enough to get the screams from her that he wanted, but her climax was slowly building and Roman clearly felt his erection throbbing for treatment, seeing her so focused. From that position he couldn't reach her button, but he didn't care that much, he didn't want to rush things. He insisted on fucking her with his big fingers, rubbing slowly on her spongy folds, exploring her inner center as far as he could and then coming back with a slimy noise which Y/N promptly followed with a stifled moan. Kissing the curve of her boobs, he positioned her better on himself and with his thumb put pressure elsewhere, on her second entry and Y/N suddenly broke free, almost running away with a more acute choked cry than necessary.

- What pretty noises… now just a little bit louder babygirl. - he chuckled amused, seeing her eyes close for a second, her lip between her teeth.

But Roman didn't want her to catch her breath, didn't want her to control herself and firm continued to tease her, her walls now pulsing fast and needy. He slid another finger inside and her back bent until her breasts literally slammed against his face, he bit her collarbone again and her hands slipped through the dark strands to hold on something.

Singing wasn't for her at all, but her moans were something he would never tire of and hearing her moaning made him want more and more and more.

- R-Ro ahn!

- Louder - he demanded, his erection throbbing against his leg.

- F-fuck Ro! - he heard her call him almost desperately and slowed his pace as her hips began to squirm.

- Mmh you're so tight babygirl - he growled eager, his fingers suffocated by her walls and his face sinking into her neck, between her breasts, kissing her everywhere mercilessly.

They had a whole house at their disposal, he could have taken her upstairs to his own bed and made things right, but with Y/N he wasn't able to slow down once he started. There was something magnetic about her that still drew him, something he couldn't get enough of and he found himself tightening his grip again, possessive, hungry for her hands on him, for her warmth.

Jesus, what he wouldn't have done to see her like this always, thanks to him and no one else.

He watched her throw her head back, as she reached her climax with a strangled moan, filling the room with her voice once more and kissed her throat, accompanying her in her movements until the wave began to descend and only then, when Y/N leaned against him to catch her breath, pulled his hand away. He shed his pants hastily, pulling them down as far as he could with her still sitting on him and smeared his aching boner with her juices, reveling in the sudden pleasure as he lashed out at him with an animal growl. Precum was already oozing from the tip and inhaling deeply, Roman mixed it with the mess between his fingers, dragging his thumb rough across his head.

- You're so hot…so hard… - he heard Y/N murmur against his ear and his cock throbbed between his fingers as she reached down to kiss his neck and jawline.

She flattened against his firm chest, fingers wandering under his sweatshirt, never where he would have wanted them, touching abs, moving up the fabric again to his large shoulders and back on his neck. She swayed on her legs, mimicking the movement of his hand along the shaft, biting into his skin then placing her mouth on his, breaths mingling.

- I've been good, now can I've my present? - she whispered, her eyes moving from his lips to his eyes and Roman released his erection with a growl, quickly sweeping his clean hand around her face.

He squeezed softly, rubbing a finger across her cheek and down her throat and then up her hips, her thighs pressed around his legs and the edge of her sweater pinching his hard-on.

- You're in trouble now, y'know? - he warned her seriously, but Y/N let a smile slip away, nose suddenly wrinkling and Roman snapped even before realizing it.

He lifted her up, her laughter in his ears, as Y/N leaned on his shoulder to let him do it and took off her underwear, placing her back on himself to slip inside her without waiting any longer. He closed his eyes, his breath caught in his throat and his stomach contracted from the sudden sensation of warmth in his lower body. It was a mess down there, hot and welcoming and Roman licked slow his lips, Y/N gripping his neck as she gasped trying to get used to more than his fingers. He ran a hand over her hair, making her tilt her head to give her a kiss on the temple and he sank in for the first time, her cunt suffocating him in a soft, wet grip. He began to give long thrusts, one after the other, in a slow but unstoppable rhythm, his tip working the way into her core with increasing force. Y/N didn't take long to find the right position and Roman soon felt her hips move to the rhythm of his thrusts, meeting her lunges with needy moans that encouraged him to pick up the pace.

- Rom-ahn-!

He liked seeing her riding him, it was a sight that always caught his total attention. Her hair rebelling strand after strand, the expression on her face every time his fat cock touched her sweet spot. It was something he wouldn't let anyone else see now that he had it in his hands, but as much as he loved prolonging their encounters, he needed a release too. And so Roman shifted his grip on her ass, driving her buttocks over him and down his boner, pounding her hard, her juices making a sticky sound with each movement.

- Your cunt… is suckin m-me – he growled husky, short of breath – mmh, yeah… ah, take it

- P-please… please, p-please ha-harder

Lost in the rhythm of their bodies, he continued to push inside her, deeper and deeper, slamming against that point that he had learned to find by memory every time. She throbbed around him, needing just as much as his throbbing cock with her, veins bulging and nuts stiffening every second as blood pumped and his heart rate quickened. Y/N hid her face against his shoulder, her forehead pressed against the back of the seat, her legs giving way slowly and Roman contracted his arms, taking on her weight to keep pushing with an almost furious grimace. He felt her moaning, shivering on top of him, on the verge of another climax and he forced himself to hold on, his taut hard-on pounding between her soft wet folds. He managed to prolong it for a little more, but his movements were sloppy and with the umpteenth squeeze of her center, Roman gave in, releasing one gush after another inside her, deeply and with a rough cry. Roman bit his mouth, head leaning against the seat back and Y/N shifted, riding him for the last stretch, while he still throbbed inside her. She needed just the right turn of hips and she too let go, a satisfied and tired smile on her face as she dropped her head back beside his.

Still inside her, Roman stared absently at the huge screen, hand wandering through her messy hair and up her ass, caressing her with open palm. At some unknow moment a short film had started instead of the trailers and the choices bar was still scrolling underneath, motionless where Y/N had stopped looking after he had returned. Suddenly back to her senses, she noticed it too, and Roman saw her straighten up with a deep breath, her fingers already trying to pick up where he'd been. He tried to keep her sitting up, forcing his grip with a grin, but she pushed his hands away with another smile and when she finally managed to pull away from him, Roman's mouth grimaced, his cock still dirty for both of them, suddenly in the cold.

He didn't like it. No way. She had to sit down again, a few minutes and he would be ready for the second round.

But he didnt have time to complain, his cousins' muffled voices coming from inside the house, while Y/N was already in control of the situation, the half-empty bowl of popcorn in her hands. Some had ended up on the floor who knows when and while he was adjusting his trousers, Roman looked at them with the same expression he reserved shortly after to the twins when they finally made their entrance through the door, Jimmy waving his hand before sticking his head inside.

- Yo, Uce!

- Uce! - loud as always – Hey! Y/N! - they greeted when they saw them both, putting on one of their shows when she waited for them with open arms and already laughing.

He saw them hugging her and turning her around in the chaos only they were capable of, clapping hands and vague noises, while Y/N patted and pinched their cheeks like two overgrown children, leaving him to fetch a beer from the small kitchen.

- Look at you! You brave!

- Girl, that sweater here? Really?!

- Hu-hu and your coat makes you look like a penguin – she replied seriously to Jimmy, before giving him one of her smiles - I like it. – she made him laugh as they both made their way down the few steps to the hall to retrieve the screen controller.

- You choose the movie?

- Not yet.

- Big Uce - he heard Jey greet him - Y'good? - he asked, giving him one of his squeezes and Roman silently followed the direction of his gaze, bringing his attention back to Y/N.

It would have been better if they hadn't been in the way and both he and his brother knew it, so Roman gave him a light smack on the back of the head, tightening his grip before pushing him away.

- Move, choose that movie – he got rid of him, however seeing him giggle before running down.

- Hey hey! No greetings at the airport. I didn't come here to see dudes greeting each other at the airport! I already see too much of them during the week! - he listened to them making a racket and uncorked the beer he was holding, taking a sip.

He didn't have peace even in his house, but he would convince her to stay for the night. They would have skipped the airport greetings too.

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