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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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itsjusthockey · 7 months

Text

Boo - Jack Hughes

I had no idea where this was going but it worked

Enjoy

Please request bitches, I need inspiration

wc:1.088 (credit to gif maker)

To Jack, there is nothing more sexy than a beautiful woman lying in his bed, completely ignoring him. Or maybe it was just you. To be fair, he can’t help it; Jack finds everything about you quite sexy, even when you haven’t paid a single ounce of attention to him in the past fifteen minutes, no matter what he’s done.

He tries everything. First, he calls your name, which you ignore. Then he starts making noises that you hate, which you ignore, and then he starts to remove his clothes, which causes you to flash him a quick glance, roll your eyes, and return to your computer.

He is about to give up when he decides he has one final trick up his sleeve. Removing himself from the chair, Jack puts himself face down on the floor, letting out a huge sigh.

Still nothing. So he goes again.

Three sighs later, you huff indignantly, shutting your computer.

“Whatever could you possibly be sighing about, Jack?”

Bingo. He turns to look at you, throwing you a sheepish smile.

“I’ve got a lot on my shoulders, babe.” Jack takes another deep breath and sighs dramatically. “Being rich, talented, and handsome is incredibly tiring work.”

You snort. “I bet, baby, it’s so hard being you.”

You give him a fake pout before moving to get off the bed, stepping over him on the way to the bathroom. He watches like a hawk as you grab a few things, pee, and walk back, stepping over him again.

“What do I have to do to get some attention around here?” He finally asks, throwing you a pointed glance as you ponder his question.

“J, I’m sorry, but you know I have to do this. I can give you all the attention in the world once I finish this discussion. Okay?”

He raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You nod, and he places his head back down when an idea pops in his head.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“Ballpark, how long until you're done?”

He hears you sigh, and a part of him feels terrible, but he knows it’s worth it.

“Probably 45 minutes to an hour.”

He lets out an okay and gets up, gently pressing a kiss to your cheek, which you barely register him. He makes his way to the bathroom and hops in for a quick shower, using the new fall-scented soap that you got him that both love.

Minutes later, he takes a quick glance at you as he throws on some gray sweats, and he smirks, knowing he still has time. You’re beyond focused with your headphones on, and Jack genuinely believes he could drop dead, and you wouldn’t know.

He makes his way outside into the living space, seeing Luke sprawled across the couch, watching an Avengers movie on the TV.

“What’s up?” Luke questions, watching as he heads to the closet that holds their hockey gear.

“I got some stuff yesterday for a thing I saw on TikTok, and (Y/N) needs a fun night.”

Jack pulls out the various fall items that he won’t lie; he enjoyed picking out. There are snacks, little games, candles, a stuffed pumpkin, and anything else he thought you would like.

He moves into action, putting together the basket and calling for an Uber Eats order. Luke, realizing what is going on, begins to laugh.

“You got her a boo-basket?”

“Shhhh, she’s right In there.” Jack jerks his head toward his bedroom.

Luke throws up his hand in surrender. “Sorry, I just didn’t think this was your thing. You’re not great at the whole romance thing all the time.”

Jack throws him a stern look and gives the pumping a gentle squeeze. “You tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

Jack finishes putting the basket together and places it on the center island. He then moves to dim the lights and light a candle, nodding at his good work.

“Alright, almost perfect.” He says, eyes landing on Luke. “Just one more thing.”

Luke shoots him a curious look. “What's that?”

“You’re here.” Jack points his finger toward the door. “Out.”

Luke rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, heading toward the door. He doesn’t get far before stealing a couple of Halloween Oreos and throwing Jack a wink on the way out.

As the door slams shut behind Luke, Jack waits for what feels like an eternity for you to exit the bedroom.

He can hardly contain his excitement and nerves as he watches you walk in confused, taking in the cozy setup. You pause, and he smiles, but that’s wiped away when he sees tears welling up in your eyes.

He’s a second away from panicking when you walk over to him, throwing your arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

“You did this for me?”

You pull back from him, and he gently pulls your chin up so your lips meet his.

“Actually, for Nico, but he’s running late, so I’ll guess you’ll work.”

You roll your eyes at him again, pulling him in for another sweet kiss.

“This is so sweet, J.”

Jack watches as you look through all the goodies, getting more excited with each item. When you get to the pumpkin plush, you wheeze it so hard to your chest, and he practically melts.

“I love it, Jack, seriously.”

He pulls you back into his arms, relieved that his surprise has had the desired effect.

“Good, you deserve it," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

The evening continues as you both enjoy your favorite food that's just arrived. You cozy up on the couch, surrounded by the fall-themed goodies and the warm, dimly lit room. The candles flicker, casting a soft, inviting glow, and the two of you dive into the snacks and games Jack picked out, sharing laughter and watching your favorite Halloween shows.

It’s picture-perfect as the first movie starts to come to a close, and Jack can feel you staring at him.

“You know, you’re the most annoying boyfriend ever, but sometimes.” You pause, popping an Oreo in your mouth. “You do have your moments.”

Jack attacks you for your comment, flipping you both over and ticking your sides. You play fight for a minute before he stops, staring deep into your eyes as you smile.

“So, are you ready to fulfill your promise?” He raises his eyebrow, moving his head down to capture your lips.

You roll your eyes, grabbing his head and pulling him down.

“I’m all yours.”

#hockey #hockey boys #imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #luke hughes #nhl fic #nhl #nhl players #nhl blurb #new jersey devils #nj devils

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beskarandblasters · 7 days

Text

Packin’ (In More Ways Than One)

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: This is inspired by this HOT art by @cass-hues 🍑🔥 Unfortunately, I do not know who made this gif so if that’s you or someone you know, don’t hesitate to inform me and I’ll give credit where it’s due! Thank you to @freelancearsonist for beta reading! 🤍🤍

Summary: You see Din’s bare ass for the first time and get the urge to peg him.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), reader is able-bodied and has no physical description/no genitalia mentioned, anal fingering, sex toys, lube, pegging, praising, pet names (cyar’ika), sonic = shower, refresher = bathroom, no use of y/n

“You’re really going to shower with that bucket on your head?”

Din’s leaning against the doorway of the refresher with a towel sitting low on his hips. He just captured a bounty on Coruscant where it’s currently raining, a downpour that chilled Din to his bones. You suggested that a hop in the sonic would warm him up. But you didn’t expect to see him stripped bare of everything besides his helmet.

“Yes,” he says plainly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! …You just look a little funny right now, that’s all.”

“Funny?” he asks, turning and walking to the mirror. But as he walks his towel drops to the floor and you’re met with the sight of his bare ass. And Maker, it is juicy. You had no idea he was hiding that underneath his cape and his flight suit.

“Oh my-”

“Sorry!” he says, hastily grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to… expose myself like that.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“Really?”

“But I am a little mad at you right now.”

“Why??”

“You didn’t tell me you were packin’… in more ways than one,” you say, walking and standing beside him in the mirror.

“Oh… You mean my… behind?”

“Yes, silly,” you chuckle, running your hand over his ass with the towel in between you two. He tenses up at the motion and you’re just now realizing that he’s probably never had his ass appreciated like this before. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets you feel up his ass while the towel hangs dangerously low around his hips.

“Is it weird I want to peg you?”

“No,” he says quickly.

“No as in…?”

“No, it’s not weird.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “Should I… go to the store?”

“Yes,” he says, without hesitation.

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you chuckle, grabbing your bag and lowering the exit ramp of the Crest.

You think of where the nearest sex shop might be and quickly decide that lower levels are your best bet. The rain has thankfully subsided, leaving puddles in the street for neon lights to reflect off of. You cruise the streets, searching for the perfect place until you happen upon a goldmine; Nova’s Novelties.

The door opens and you step inside, immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of sex toys occupying the shelves and walls. There’s a counter in the back where the register is. A woman is there and you can only assume that’s Nova, a beautiful woman with an inviting aura. She makes buying sex toys seem less intimidating.

“Welcome!” she says, motioning for you to come over. “What brings you in tonight?”

“I’m looking for… a strap-on.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” she smiles, stepping out from behind the counter. “Follow me.”

She brings you to a shelf where there’s a strap on of every size and color, all encased in clear packaging. A silver one catches your eye.

That’ll match his armor, you think to yourself, stifling a giggle.

“What do you recommend for a beginner?”

She reaches and grabs a modest looking one, bright pink in color.

“This one is great for beginners. Not too big, not too small. And it comes with an adjustable strap.”

“Thanks!” you say, taking the box from her. “Does it come in any other colors?”

“What were you thinking?”

“…Silver.”

“You have great taste. Let me check the back.”

She heads to the back room while you take time to explore the rest of the selection, opting for a bottle of lube, too. Once she emerges with the silver dildo in hand, you check out, handing her a fistful of credits and heading back to the Crest.

“Have fun!” she says with a suggestive smile just before you step out onto the street.

As you walk back to the docking yard, you think about Din, waiting for you like such a good boy. You think about the trust he places in you, letting you see him without his armor or his fight suit on and the trust he has to let you do something like this… It’s a testament of your love.

When you get back in the Crest you find Din, standing in the doorway of the refresher with droplets of water peppered on his skin with steam wafting into the hull from the sonic. His bulge pitches a tent in his towel. You can’t believe your eyes, gawking at how gorgeous he looks. It’s almost criminal he keeps all of this locked away under his armor and it blows your mind that this is the first time you’re seeing him like this.

“Did you find something?”

“You bet I did,” you smirk. You take off your bag and hang it on a hook, reaching for the strap-on and the lube. You hold it out in front of you and think about his face underneath the helmet, wondering if he clocked how the dildo matches his armor.

“You like?” you ask.

“I do.”

“Good…” you say, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. His skin is warm, still slightly damp from the sonic. “Now be a good boy and get in the bunk for me.”

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he says, dropping his towel and walking across the hull to the bunk.

He gets on all fours on the bed while you shed your clothes and take the strap out of the packaging, setting it on the edge of the bunk because you’re not ready for it just yet.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” you say, kneeling behind him and cupping his ass.

“Y-Yes, I promise.”

“Don’t worry,” you giggle, “I’ll go nice and slow at first.”

You squeeze lube onto your index finger, coating his hole with it and teasing it lightly. He lets out a small whimper in response, already aching for more.

“What was that?”

“I… want it… already.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you say, sliding your finger in.

His breath hitches before he exhales with a moan while you slowly work his hole. You curl your finger while your other hand caresses his ass.

“More,” he softly begs.

“Be patient,” you coo.

He sighs, resting his helmet down on the pillow and sticking his ass up higher. Never in a million years did you think you’d have Din in a face-down ass-up position and yet here you are, enjoying every minute of it.

You pull your hand from his ass and add lube to your middle finger, pushing both back inside simultaneously. A deeper, guttural moan forces its way out of his throat as he melts into the cot faster than a block of ice on Tatooine.

“Good boy,” you praise, pushing your fingers against his prostate. “But I’m far from done with you.”

“I know,” he whimpers.

You feel his hole relax around your fingers and a slew of whispers and Mando’a curse words slip out from under the helmet.

“Cyar’ika, I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh yeah? Let me feel it.”

He cums around your fingers, a different kind of orgasm he’s never experienced before. His thighs shake beneath him as he rides out his high.

“Such a good boy for me,” you praise, slowing the movement of your fingers to a stop. You pull them from his ass and get off the bed, putting on the harness and attaching the strap. “But are you ready for more?”

“Yes,” he sputters, staying in the same face-down ass-up position for you.

You walk to the front end of the bed, crouching down by his helmet and telling him, “You’re doing so well, baby, coming for me like that.”

“I am?”

“Mhm,” you whisper, rubbing his back. He shudders at your touch, eliciting a giggle from you.

“You’re so sensitive right now, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he sighs.

“It’s almost over,” you remind him, taking your rightful position by his ass again.

You spread lube onto the strap and align it with his hole, one hand holding his hip as you thrust into him slowly. He lets out another string of curse words in Mando’a. It’s unintelligible but it’s a sign of how good he feels.

“You like that?” you chuckle.

“Yes. So much, cyar’ika,” he moans, just as you draw your hips back and thrust into him again. You put your other hand on his hip, holding onto him as you thrust in and out, working him up to his impending orgasm. His moans, grunts, and whimpers are melodic, like music to your ears. It fills you with a deep sense of pride that you can reduce your big strong Mandalorian to a whimpering mess with just your fingers and a strap.

“Cyar’ika?” he whines.

“Yes?” you smirk.

“I’m gonna-”

“Gonna cum again?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Do it,” you command, making sure your pace never falters.

Another moan escapes his throat, slipping out from under his helmet in his beautiful, modulated tone. His whole body shakes with pleasure, quivering as you fuck him through his high, being sure to slow down slightly to not overstimulate him.

Once he’s done you pull out of him, letting him collapse onto the bunk. Aftershocks of his orgasm make him quiver here and there, his ass shaking with each involuntary movement. You giggle watching him rest peacefully after you just fucked the living daylights out of him.

You crouch down and whisper, “Looks like you need to hop in the sonic again.”

“I know,” he groans.

“I’ll join you.”

“Let’s go,” he says, shooting up and heading to the refresher. He has that specific walk about him, the kind where you walk side to side after a good dicking down. It looks good on him, you decide.

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #star wars fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters #ppcu fanfiction

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writersblog20 · 2 years

Text

Three makes the dream

Chris Evans x reader x Henry Cavill

Not my gifs, credits to the makers!

Part 1🔥💜🦋

Summary: When Chris talked to Henry about your little fantasy but ignored the both of them with an attitude since you were working, has a lot of consequents

Warnings: curse words, in the beginning Chris bullies you a little, humiliating, sensations of dread, a lot of intimidation, feelings of embarrassment, manhandling, darkchris, dark Henry, mocking, chocking, crying, powerplay, size kink, overpowering you, being under control, a lot of praising, love bombing?, magic wand, overstimulation, throat fucking, throat bulge, jerking himself off in your throat, multiple creampies, breeding kink,, daddy kink, pet names, feeling very little and submissive, dom/sub dynamic, threesome, No condom use ( Zon’t zo it) , bit of spit and probably more things, mentions of collapsing. Crying during sex from too much pain and pleasure.

Words: 6K

A/n it's finally here and i'm not even sorry about this. Have fun and please do read the warnings!

MDNI

Three makes the dream

You were currently working at a festival as a photographer. You also did the designs for the festival and that was kind of how you became their photographer in the first place. There were a lot of famous people attending the festival and a lot of famous musicians would walk up the stage. The VIP section for most actors was above the stage where Chris, your boyfriend was talking to the one and only Henry Cavill as you stood opposite and underneath the VIP section, making photo’s.

You and Chris talked about what had happened that night and your little fantasy of getting fucked by Chris AND Henry. What you didn’t know was that Chris already talked to Henry about it and they currently were whispering their ideas to each other as they were looking at you.

You already noticed and felt like you could die on the spot from embarrassment. Your cheeks heated up as you noticed the dangerous looks of Chris and Henry, given to you. At this point you were just trying to do your job and hoped that they wouldn’t be a further distraction to you.

The end was almost in view as the last band stepped on the podium, the Arctic Monkeys, who you were a fan of. You luckily bumped into Alex Turner earlier and quickly took a picture with the famous singer.

Chris spotted everywhere you stood, keeping an eye out for you. As the band played some songs and you photographed further, you also noticed the smirks on the boys. You felt completely flustered and their looks had you locked in a choke hold. You were so flustered that you lost your talent for photographing and to be honest, it pissed you a little off. It was fun and all but not when you were working and you made sure to tell Chris later.

Their glances burned on your skin as you got more and more irritated. You looked up at Chris, visibly noticeable that you were not happy with it at the moment, glancing irritated at him. He raised his eyebrow in surprise and disagreement, just like Henry, both not liking your attitude right now but you couldn’t care less. You were working for god sakes.

That was the last time you took a look at Chris that night and he knew damn well that you were irritated as they tried to get your attention. But you wouldn’t budge and went to do your work, ignoring them completely. At least visibly because the looks were burned in your mind, sending shivers down your spine and a tingling feeling downwards.

You put all your attention into your work right now and the boss wanted to have a talk with you later but on a positive note, maybe giving you more work opportunities. The band walked off of stage and you agreed earlier with Chris to wait for him but you slipped away backstage quickly, still a little irritated. He knew that you didn’t like distractions on the work floor and definitely not this distraction. Well maybe you did but not underneath work goddamn it!

Chris and Henry walked backstage as well when you were talking with Alex Turner and the boss, making a bit of small talk until your boss would talk to you. Chris stood by your side and squeezed hardly in your ass, making sure that nobody could see it but it pissed you off more at this point and moved away from him as he raised his eyebrow again, letting you know that he didn’t like your attitude right now but then again, you couldn’t care less at this point.

You had a quick talk with the boss of the festival and others from different festival came up to you and offered you to work for every festival, which you definitely did not refuse! This was your dream and took it with both hands, making you happy again. Chris smiled, knowing that this was your dream and you did it all on your own.

You all were all chatting a bit with all the bosses when Chris walked up to you again with Henry this time. You’ve never met Henry in person so you felt intimidated and embarrassed by the thought of what you told Chris and that Henry might know your sinful thoughts.

“Hey sweetheart, I want you to meet someone.” Chris told you with a smirk, telling you everything that you needed to know. But again, you didn’t want to look unprofessional in front of your bosses. You politely gave Henry a hand and he smiled at you, looking directly and deep in your eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up and felt small. Henry was even bigger in real life than on tv. You knew that he knew. His smirk said enough but you ignored it, or at least tried it and acted unbothered, surprising Chris and Henry who both got even more fed up with your attitude even though they could understand.

If this wasn’t your job, you could easily become an actress because you were giving production values at this point with acting unbothered and uninterested even though you were dripping wet and thoughts were swirling through your mind.

When it was time to end it and go back to the hotel, you said your goodbyes to Henry who looked dangerously at you and very lustful, making you slip in complete submission and he could see it in your eyes even though you tried to act like nothing was going on. Well to the outside but to Chris and Henry it got very obvious at this point as you were unable to hide it.

You got into the van as the driver drove you to the hotel, not knowing that Henry was following you since he stayed in the same hotel. It was a bit of a awkward ride to the hotel. You knew Chris wasn’t happy and the other way around. “Chris, you couldn’t do that. I was working. You know how I feel about that babe.” you tried to reason with him in a mature way. “I know. But there was no need for the attitude.” He told you coldly as his hand rested on your thigh and his grip got stronger, telling you that you were in it for tonight, if only you know how much exactly.

“I would’ve been fine with it every other night but you knew how much this assignment means to me. And you really decided to go at it at that point. You had no right for that.” You told him normally, trying to have a normal conversation and setting boundaries. His grip got even tighter, giving you a lump in your throat as he ignored you like you did to him earlier that night.

You knew he was mad but you wanted to keep your ground and let him know that you wouldn’t accept this kind of behavior and definitely didn’t appreciate it. “You were doing just fine, didn’t you?” his voice turned dark and felt yourself grow even smaller. “That’s not the point Christopher and you know it. Just please don’t do it again when I’m working.” You looked at him and you saw he was clenching his jaw at your use of his full name. His nails digging into your leg at this point. His pupils completely blown at this point.

You arrived at the hotel and there was paparazzi standing ready. Chris took your hand in his and held you tightly in his grip, giving you a dreadful feeling of what was to come. You stepped into the elevator and it was just the two of you know. Your heart was in your throat as the tension was extremely high at this point, making you a bit scared of what was to come. When the doors of the elevator closed, he waited a few seconds before cornering you. His body pressed against yours while his hand squeezed your cheeks roughly. “Don’t you ever give me that attitude ever again. You. Ungrateful. Bitch.!” He spit out the last sentence.

He never cursed you out and it gave you a dreadful yet excited feeling, making you confused. He let go roughly of your face and got you out of the corner, leaving you in shock. It felt like there was concrete in your shoes when the doors opened towards your hotel room. You could tell by Chris’s walk that there was more to come. You were scared to get into that room but yet excitement made your pussy drip.

Chris opened the door for you to walk in first. You hesitantly walked in and stood in the middle of the room, making you feel extremely intimidated, small and scared. The door closed with a bang, making you jump. You looked scared at Chris as you never saw him with this dark look over his eyes.

You swallowed a little. “Chris…. You’re scaring me…” He chuckled darkly. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t make you feel excited.” He strutted towards you while you backed away. He looked at you as prey. When your back met the wall, you held your hand a little in front of you for defense. His body met yours as you almost touched noses with him. “You really want to stand here, and tell me, that your pussy isn’t dripping wet? Mhm? That this doesn’t excite you a bit? The thoughts of getting absolutely ruined by me?” Your eyes went big. You almost thought that you were talking to Ransom and not Chris, your loving, caring boyfriend. “I…” you couldn’t finish your sentence as he wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you closer to his face so he could whisper in your ear..

“You disappointed me today. Never did I think you could be this bratty. When I almost made your fantasy come true and get ruined by two cocks. But no…. You are an ungrateful bitch. I don’t condone this bratty behavior and you should’ve known better than that.” Goosebumps covered your entire body and you hated that it gave you away this easily. You were frightened yet excited. His hand squeezed your throat a little “What do you have to say about that?” he asked you huskily. “I’m sorry.” Your raspy voice came out soft from the tightening around your throat. “You wanna know what I think?” He mocked you, with a dark grin. Your eyes went big “I think that you need to learn some manners.” He told you and pushed you on the bed.

“From now on, you better listen to my commands otherwise it’s going to be a long painful night for you.” he told you darkly as he ripped your blouse apart, making you jump at the sudden movement. He pulled your pants roughly off. “You looked so good tonight, too bad your bratty and ungrateful behavior had to ruin everything.” He ripped your lingerie off of you and put your underwear in your mouth as you took it submissively in. He got a little towel and wrapped it roughly around your eyes, making it unable to see and you felt that he was tying you to the bed with something. It felt sharp around your wrist but you decided not to say anything.

You heard that Chris was getting undressed, the sound of fabric of the clothes getting off made you so extremely wet to a point, you didn’t even know was possible. All of a sudden you heard nothing but some shuffling and the opening, closing from the door. You tried to hear but it almost felt impossible as the thundering from your heartbeat in your ear was deafening, making you dread every possible moment.

“You know what sweetheart? Today might be your lucky day.” He mockingly said and you felt to the brim of tears but also so excited it was all very confusing. You had your safe word and knew that Chris would immediately stop but you didn’t really want him to. “Look at you…. so beautiful… isn’t she Henry?” he all of a sudden said and you were in complete and utter shock. The feeling of embarrassment getting to you, wanting to get away and cover yourself up but since you were tight up, you had no choice. Only youor legs weren’t tied up and you brought them closer to your body “Mhm…. She sure is…. You got a nice one on your hands Chris. Too bad she’s going to get completely ruined tonight.” You heard the gravel voice of the other man in the room.

You felt your nipples get hard and more goosebumps covering your body. “I think she likes this, what do you think Henry?” You could almost hear the smirk in his voice and you felt a bit humiliated. “Mhm…. I thinks so too. Mind if I have a go?” your breathing got heavier. “Go right ahead. She needs to learn her lesson.” Chris told Henry casual and you felt the lump in your throat as your tears slipped into the towel.

“Look at that…. She is glistening. She is so wet, so pretty.” Henry told Chris darkly. You felt the bed dip a little besides you, your heart racing faster. All of a sudden you felt feathery kisses on your neck, making you gasp. You could tell it was Henry. You knew every part of Chris too well. A slapping sound was heard followed by a loud sting on your thigh and you whimpered at the feeling, more tears slipping out. “You’re getting completely and utterly ruined tonight” you heard Henry whisper in your ear and warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Henry found the sweet spot in your neck within seconds, his rough warm hand palming your breast and squeezed your hard nipple.

Not long after you felt a lick over your slit, making you mewl at the multiple sensations and hands on you. Chris had his hands wrapped around your legs tightly while Henry placed a soft kiss on your lips with your lingerie in your mouth, your cheeks squeezed again. After he took a nipple in his mouth and started sucking on it while Chris was busy eating you out roughly. You tried to whimper and moan, bucking your hips up.

The feeling of Henry’s and Chris’s hands on you made you extremely horny. “Mhm, You should taste her… she’s amazing.” Chris commented and you felt Henry move away, his lips disconnecting your nipple, leaving you wanting more. Henry teased you by moving his fingertips slowly and softly over your legs towards where you were throbbing. The bed dipped down besides your head and you felt Chris softly going over your hair in a comforting manner.

Henry held your legs even tighter than Chris did, his muscles flexing around you while he made a long stroke with his tongue over your slit, goosebumps covering you again in reaction. His tongue made circles around your clit, giving you an unbelievable feeling of pleasure and excitement washing over you. You wanted to move your legs but Henry tightened his grip around you, one of his hands resting on your underbelly, pressing down gently. Bucking your hips was useless right now of the stronghold he had you in, completely in his control.

You heard Henry hum in approval when all of a sudden you felt his finger going over your slit, sending electricity over your body. He put his finger in your pussy and started pumping in and out, making you whimper through the lingerie. You could hear Chris shushing you above you, still stroking your head while his other hand went to your nipple, playing with it. You felt yourself turn into a mess underneath their touches. As Henry kept circling your clit and pumping in and out, you felt the euphoric feeling growing closer. Chris noticed your body language and Henry knew that you were close too. “Cum for us baby. Cum for your daddies.” Henry husked out, making you even closer than before. Chris squeezed into your cheeks again and that was the point you couldn’t hold it any longer and came on Henry’s fingers and mouth.

You could hear him growl and groan and it was next to Chris, the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. “There you go baby. Let go before you get ruined.” Chris told you lovingly in a soft way. You wanted to moan but everything came out muffled. “She is indeed very delicious.” Henry said as he backed away from you. “Get that lingerie out of her mouth. I want to put my cock in that pretty mouth of her.” Henry directed as Chris got the lingerie out of your mouth.

You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry and you were at lost for words. You heard the zipper of Henry’s pants, getting you instantly wet again as you got your legs up again. You felt Chris standing up from the bed and heard him walk towards your pussy. Henry gave you a stroke over your head before his hand grabbed your chin and made you face his way. He pressed his lips against yours, hungrily kissing you as his tongue slipped in, making you moan in the kiss.

You felt Chris eating you out again, as you gasped but Henry held you chin tightly, holding you into place. His whole tongue went in and out of your pussy and your legs already began to shake. Henry got out of the kiss and pushed the tip of his cock into your mouth. He pushed more forward and you instantly noticed how huge his cock was. “Mhm… You like his cock princess? I can feel you clench around me.” Chris remarked as Henry chuckled deeply. You gagged a little “aww sweet baby… try harder. IT’s not even in halfway.” Henry told you and you got a little scared as you knew that it was true.

Henry grabbed the back of your head and pushed it forward, making you gag even more as he growled dangerously above you. “That’s it baby. Take daddy’s cock princess.” He told you while Chris got you closer to the edge. “You’re gonna cum baby? You need to tell me when you’re gonna cum honey…” Henry and Chris chuckled together, knowing you couldn’t talk with Henry’s cock in your mouth. You hummed multiple times, making Henry groan even louder. “I think she’s about to mate.” Henry warned Chris which motivated him to go even faster with his tongue and you were in no time, in an exploding orgasm.

Henry got out of your mouth and grabbed your cheeks, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Good girl.” He told you before moving away just like Chris. Your skin felt on fire waiting for what would happen next. Chris moved your way and pressed the tip of his cock against your lips, making you opening your mouth. “Let’s see what else you can do pretty princess.” Henry told you lovingly as well now, making you feel smaller. He entered you with two fingers and started moving, making you moan loudly and Chris took that opportunity to push his cock in deeper. Your pussy was making wet sounds and there was that familiar feeling washing over you. You wanted to cum so badly. Henry pushed his third finger in you and moved even harder and with every gasp or moan, Chris pushed his cock even further in, making you gag.

“Come on baby, I know you want to. Cum for me, cum for daddy sweetheart.” Henry said and you felt the tears gathering in the towel, making you cry out of pleasure as you came hard. Henry started laughing a little “That’s it princess. Good job. Such a good girl.” Henry told you happily. “You want to stretch her out? She’s very tight.” Chris warned Henry. “With love.” Henry remarked back. You felt the tip of his cock going over your clit and slit before he slowly entered you and you gasped out. “Ohhh you were right, she is very tight indeed.

Chris got his cock out of your mouth and got the towel from your eyes. Henry kept pushing in slowly with low grunts as you kept moaning. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to adjust to the lights. When your vision became more clear you saw Henry above you with a grin and Chris next to you.

“Just for tonight he’ll be your daddy too, princess.” Chris whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as his big hand wrapped around your throat and the other cupped your breast, playing with your nipple. You plopped your head back on the pillow from the amount of pleasure and pain while Henry’s big cock stretched you out. You wanted to touch Chris and Henry but got pulled back by the restraints.

Chris chuckled deeply. “You want to touch your daddies princess?” he cooed you. You nodded but Chris shook his head. His upper body laid half over you and you could see Henry above you. “Use your words pretty girl.” His knuckles softly brushed over your cheek, his finger slowly moving over your pillow lips and he seemed in a trance. “Open your mouth baby.” he told you, completely fixated on your lips. You did as he told you and he put his finger slowly into your mouth, pressing softly down on your tongue before he put another finger in your mouth. Henry and Chris looked at you mesmerized. So much even that Henry stopped and watched as you gently sucked on Chris’s finger, twirling it with your tongue.

Chris groaned a little at the sensitive feeling that you were able to give his fingertips. “Oh baby, I love you so much.” Chris told you completely mesmerized. He got his fingers out of your mouth and looked lovingly into your eyes before kissing you passionately. When you felt Chris’s tongue slip in, Henry slowly started moving again, making you moan. Chris went from your mouth to your neck, softly sucking your sensitive spot. “Please daddy, I want to feel you.” you whimpered out as Henry sped his movement up. Chris looked up at you and untied you.

Your arms were immediately wrapped around Chris while you tucked your fingers in his hair. His hands cupped your breast as he started kissing you again. Henry started pounding you out and you moaned out loudly. Chris softly rubbed your cheek with his thumb for comfort. “You’re doing so well princess. Taking his cock. I’m so proud of you.” he praised you, making you even wetter. Henry’s finger connected to your clit and you arched your back for the euphoric feeling.

Chris still laid half on top of you on his side. “You close baby girl?” you nodded to Chris and he attached his mouth to your nipple for more sensation and you screamed out “I’m gonna cum.” You warned them and Henry sped his movement up, completely ruining you while you clenched around him. He grunted above you loudly. “I’m not going to last long, I’m gonna cum too.” Henry warned. “Cum for me, please daddy.” You begged, making Chris smile proudly. “Fill her up” Chris told Henry while he kept looking at you with a seductive look. You felt his warm cum shooting into you and Henry collapsed on you while moaning loudly and out of breath but still moved slowly in and out of you, his cock covered with your cum and his own.

“Get out of her. It’s my turn.” Chris told Henry but looked at you darkly again and you knew this was far from done. Henry got out of your and changed positions with Chris. Henry stood next to you. “Lick the cum off of my cock princess.” His big hand was on the back of your head and led you to his cock that was covered in cum. Now you could see how big and thick Henry’s cock really was.

Chris pushed into you without warning and immediately picked up pace. “Take it baby. Take my cock and put his in your mouth.” He commanded. You wrapped your small hand around his cock and licked his shaft before teasing the tip. You tried to take him all in again but you weren’t able.

Chris got out of you and placed you horizontal on the bed, with your head off the bed and walked away to get something. “You can fuck her pretty mouth now.” he told Henry and Henry smiled lovingly at you, sending butterflies in your stomach. “I got something for you baby girl, even though you don’t deserve it, I need to feel you clench around my cock.” He told you and you looked up to see a magic wand. “Let’s see how many times you can cum tonight hmh?” he told you belittling.

Chris got into you again, his cock covered with Henry’s cum and yours and god it was hot to see. He pushed the magic wand on and put it on your clit. Your legs immediately started to shake and you moaned loudly. “Put daddy’s cock in your mouth princess.” Henry told you sweetly and you got his cock into your hand, leading it to your mouth. Henry let his head fall backward from pleasure. Your eyes immediately filled up with tears. Henry pushed more into your mouth while you gagged around him.

Henry leaned over you and got the magic wand from Chris and held it against your clit while his other hand squeezed your nipple. You wanted to say that you were cumming but you could only murmur around Henry’s cock. “Your gonna cum aren’t you baby? I can feel you.

Henry got his hand away from your nipple and wrapped it around your throat, jerking himself off as there was a visible throat bulge. Henry grunted above you and he got hard in no time in your throat, making you gag. Every time you gagged, he got a little bit out of you and let you take a breath. Your legs started to shake and Chris held them tightly as you came hard onto his cock, making him groan and moan, trying to fuck you through your orgasm.

“There you go baby, there you go.” Chris panted out. Henry got out of your throat and Chris stopped moving, letting you shake around him before getting out of you. Henry got you up from the bed and you were finally face to face with him as Chris laid down on his back, slowly stroking his cock as he watched the interaction between you and Henry.

He smirked smugly at you and started kissing you deeply while your hands wandered over his broad chest. His hand went over your body while the other was on your cheek. His hand went over your sensitive clit and he pushed a finger in, making you moan out. In no time he put the second finger in and pumped in and out of you. His other hand grabbed you by your throat so he held you up, since you were close to collapsing. “You got another one in you, I know you do. You do, don’t you princess.” He cooed as the tears fell over your cheek and Henry kissed them away.

“Come on sweetheart.” His fingers and hand started to move more and violently. Your pussy made that wet sound again as you clenched around his fingers, making you squirt and kept going, ruining you completely and felt like you had no energy left inside of you. “You’re such a good baby.” Henry praised you and let you fall on the bed. “Look at the mess you made. Such a good girl.”

You were panting and flustered, your whole body felt on fire, everything was so extremely sensitive and you knew they weren’t done with you yet. “Climb on his cock princess.” Henry told you. You tried to get up, looking desperately at Chris with tears still flowing over your cheeks. He gave you a loving and almost sympathetic smile as he wiped them away. “Do as you are told and get on my cock.” He told you.

You tried to get up but collapsed. Henry wrapped his hands around your stomach and pulled you easily up on all fours. He smacked your ass, making you whine loudly. “Hurry up.” he told you, making Chris grin. You slowly climbed on Chris cock and put him slowly in, but everything was overstimulated and you clenched around him, falling on his chest drained.

Chris put his hips up and started fucking you, your tears falling on his chest while he started pounding you out again. Henry spit on your ass and rubbed it over your other entrance with his fingers, slowly putting one finger in. You moaned very loud from the pain and Chris covered your mouth as he pounded you out merciless. Your face buried in the crook of his neck and he pushed you down so your mouth was covered by his neck. You whimpered but you were so drained, you couldn’t even move away.

Chris found your g-spot and started pounding it, making you squirt again. His legs were covered with your juice and so was Henry’s chest. “Awww there you go, our pretty dumb baby.” you were unable to talk at this point. “Were going to fill you up baby.” Chris whispered in your ear, making your pussy clench around him. “Ohhhh she likes that idea Henry. I can feel her squeeze around me. I think it’s time.” He told Henry and you felt the your stomach drop from nervousness. “Let’s put two cocks in her.” Chris said and the dreaded feeling came back but your body gave you away with squeezing around his cock again, making Chris laugh mockingly.

“Yeah she likes that idea. Go ahead.” He told Henry. Luckily for you, Henry took a pity on you and started with adding another finger, pumping in and out of you. Once you were just a little stretched out, he decided it was time. His cock teased your other entrance and Chris stopped all his movement so Henry could join. He slowly pushed forward, making you cry out loud. “Aww baby, the pain is over in no time.” Chris told you, giving you a little comfort, petting your hair and wiping away the tears. “You remember the safe word right baby? You use it when it’s too much.” Chris told you, breaking character. You nodded with tears over your cheeks. “Repeat the safe word to me baby.” Henry stopped moving.

“Strawberry.” Chris nodded and softly rubbed your cheek and nodded with a look of love and care in his eyes. “Do you want to continue?” He genuinely asked you with worry laced his voice. You nodded and Chris looked over your shoulder to Henry and nodded. Henry slowly moved in and out of you, not even halfway in but tried to loosen you up as he groaned above you. Chris started moving as well, making you moan out loud, feeling completely stuffed.

“I’m gonna cum again daddy” you moaned out, never stopped crying. “ Ohh again baby? You can’t stop cumming can you? Do your daddies make you feel this good?” you nodded, moaning out and clenched on both cocks. Henry and Chris moaned out loudly. Henry got the magic wand again and passed it on to Chris.

Chris let it rest next to him for a minute. When you collapsed on Chris’s chest again, Henry sped up his movement and fucked you fast, Chris joining him. Henry got you up from Chris’s chest and held you against his own, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other on your breast keeping you up. Chris’s hands were on your hips, holding you up as well while he pounded you out just like Henry.

You moaned so loud, you don’t think you’ve ever been this vocal. Henry placed feathery kisses on the side of your head. Your ears were buzzing and you saw dots in front of you while both cock were glazed with your cum, moving in and out of you.

Chris got the magic wand again and put it directly onto your clit. The boys had to help you up because you would’ve collapsed again otherwise. Henry bit your earlobe teasingly and you held their cocks into a death grip.

“I can’t hold it longer sweetheart. Hold it so we cum together.” Henry told you. “I’m gonna cum soon too.” Chris panted out, sweat buds collecting on his forehead and his hair damp from sweat. Henry’s sweaty body was pressed to yours as he held you tightly against him.

“We’re gonna stuff you with our cum and make sure, that you’re unable to walk after.” Henry panted in your ear. You cried out as you couldn’t handle it anymore and came hard again, losing count from how many times you had cum that night. You clenched around them and out of reaction they came too, shooting you full with cum.

They let go of you and you fell on top of Chris. Chris’s cum dripped down on his cock and Henry got out of you, making his cum drip down as well. Everyone was exhausted and out of breath. Chris held you tightly while panting in your ear. You could feel the thundering of his heart against your chest.

He collected himself and cupped your cheeks, looking a little worried at you. He’d never been this rough with you before. “Are you okay baby?” looking intently into your eyes. you nodded. “Exhausted” was the only thing you could say. Chris nodded but the worry never leaving his face. He got out of you, making you cry out again and he felt remorse “I’m so sorry baby.” he told you and placed you next to Henry.

Henry pulled you up, letting you rest on his chest while he softly went with his hand over your hair and kissed your head. “You’re okay baby. We’ll take care of you.” he told you softly, worried as well. Chris came back with a washcloth, knowing you weren’t able to get up right now and cleaned you up as far as he could. Henry comforted you and both the boys saw that they needed to be extremely soft with you as you sniffled. They exchanged looks with each other from worry. “Are you really okay sweetheart?” Henry asked you feeling extremely guilty. Chris laid next to you, holding you as well. “No I’m okay. Just really drained. But I liked it.” you told them when you were able to, the last part a little embarrassed.

“In that case, I’m open to doing it again, only a bit softer.” Chris told you chuckling and you smiled tiredly. “Me too, I really liked it.” Henry told you. “I’d like that.” You told them and closed your eyes. “Get some sleep baby. You deserve it. We’ll take care of you now.” Chris told you, placing a piece of hair behind your ear and softly planting a kiss on your shoulder. He let Henry hold you for now, knowing you couldn’t even move at this point. “We’ll be here when you wake up.” Henry kissed your forehead and you softly dozed off in a much needed sleep.

taglist: @patzammit @rogersdrysdalebarber @bookwormchick91 @justile@babyevansblog @hazelqueenland

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astral--horrorshow · 7 months

Text

Red Snow - Platonic Yandere Mud Dogs x GN Reader

A/N: Happy spooky month, everyone!! This is the first of two stories I'm going to release for October. They're based off of horror/thriller media, and credit to @yandere-toons for the inspiration of merging a horror movie with a yandere scenario with their Invader Zim story!

This story is based off of the film "No Exit", and even though the protag in the film and this share the same name, they aren't the same, that's a just a coincidence.

Try to guess what the second story is based off of! Here's a hint: It most likely served as inspiration for a nordic horror game that's getting a third installment in 2024!!

If anyone wants to draw fanart based off of this story or take any sort of inspiration based off of it, please feel free!! I'd be happy to see anything you make!

Her: You better not be writing a 6000+ fanfic for characters who only had 5 minutes of screentime when I get there!

Me:

Warning: This story is meant for entertainment purposes only and not meant to romanticize or encourage any of the behaviors found in it.

TW: a gun, blood, kidnapping, restraints, semi infantilizism, being struck, hinted fear mongering, slight gore, death, this is strictly platonic

Word Count: 6246

Summary: Darby is stranded at a rest stop in a snowstorm with 5 complete strangers when they unveil a chilling discovery.

Darby wrapped their hands around the mug of coffee, warming their hands up through their fur. They sighed in relief as they began to feel their fingers again, the snow melting.

A snowstorm raged outside, beating against the windows of the rest stop and coating them with layer after layer of dull frost. Looking around, Darby swallowed hard as they took a nervous glance at the people they would be sharing the rest stop with for the foreseeable future. Three other yōkai shared the table in the center of the room with them, with a fourth napping in the corner of the room, and another making himself a cup of coffee. Their hand instinctively drifted to the pocket on their jeans, attempting to soothe their nerves by rubbing the denim-covered contents. The air was thick and hard to breathe in, not with Darby’s nerves.

“What’s your name, kid?”

The cat yōkai jolted, yanking their hand away from their pocket and staring at the bat yōkai from across the table. “Sorry?” They breathed out, trying to regain the air in their lungs.

“I said, what’s your name?”

“Oh! Oh. Darby, sorry…”

“Nothing to apologize for,” the bat said, reaching up and scratching his big ear, “But you’ll want to get used to me. We’ll be here for a while.

Darby swallowed again, and nodded. The bat gave a half-smile to them, and spoke again.

“I’m Rafferty, and this is my wife-”

“Juane,” the borzoi yōkai next to him butted in.

“Right, Juane,” Rafferty turned to the eel on Darby’s right and opened his mouth, but the eel beat him to it.

“I’m Mickey!” He said, cheerfully.

“Well, hello, Mickey.” Juane said, staring at him with a turned head. Mickey grinned at her, which unsettled Darby. In fact, all of the yōkai in that room freaked them out. They didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way Juane’s eyes seemed to stare at them from behind her long snout, maybe it was Rafferty’s intimidating aura or Mickey’s freaky grin.

Everyone sat in near-silence again, the sound of the coffee maker and the snowstorm being the only companion to the yōkai’s ears. Mickey looked like he wanted to say something, but he took a glance at the rat making the coffee, and kept his mouth shut. Darby took notice of this, and an uneasy feeling burrowed into their stomach. Maybe they were overthinking it, but maybe not. Why would Mickey stop himself from talking after looking at a stranger?

Darby clutched their knees. They needed to be away from people, to clear their head. They stood up from the table, the grating sound of the chair scooting back on the hardwood making them internally wince. They half-stumbled to the bathroom, unaware of the burning stare boring into their back.

Inside the bathroom, Darby pulled out their phone to find it had no service. Even though they were expecting it, being in a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with a snowstorm raging outside, they still groaned. The thought of being completely stranded with the unsettling strangers that they had just met made them feel sick. They buried their head in their hands, taking a deep breath. Maybe they could get some service outside. They needed to get away from all of that thick air, anyways.

Darby trekked out of the bathroom, not sparing even a passing glance at the other yōkai while they walked towards the doors. They pushed the doors open, the frigid air drawing all heat from their body and bits of ice pelting their coat and nose. They didn’t mind. It was freeing. Refreshing, even. Their boots crunched against the snow as they took their phone out of the pocket of their olive green jacket, holding up like a flare in hopes of getting at least a single bar. They tramped around in the thick snow, trying not to let go of their phone by gripping as tight as they could with their quickly numbing fingers.

A metallic-sounding thud barley pierced Darby’s ears through the vociferous whistling of the storm, but they heard it, nonetheless. There was another thud, and Darby snapped their head towards the vehicle it came from, a large, dark van.

Darby lowered their phone and stumbled towards the van, glancing back at the rest stop windows. Nobody had moved or was looking at them. They jumped behind the van, standing at its back doors. One of the windows had been covered up with something, but the other one had only snow as its curtain. They wiped away the snow with their hand, and immediately jumped back.

There was a human in the van.

Your arms and shins were tightly bound together with rope, and a gag covered your mouth. You banged on the window with your arms and Darby could hear you whimper as they stumbled back in shock. Shaking off their surprise, they turned back to the window again to make sure that nobody was looking, and threw themselves to the door window.

“Hey, hey, I’m gonna get you out of here, alright? I’m gonna help you, you’re gonna be okay.”

You continued to whimper, attempting to open the van doors with your bound and mittened hands to no avail. Darby tried the doors, too. Locked.

Darby panted in fear, eyes widening when they glanced back at the window and saw a figure standing tall with their back turned. Darby practically leaped to the other side of the van, pressing their back to it and holding their hand up to their chest, feeling their heart beating fast. They didn’t want to believe that they were in this situation, that they were dreaming, or hallucinating.

Taking a deep breath, they attempted to calm their nerves. They only had to play it cool until they could get help. But who knows how long that would be? And they didn’t even know who the van even belonged to! Everyone in there was an equal suspect, and Darby didn’t even know the other two’s names! They groaned and tugged on their ears. The cat yōkai couldn’t just pull you out, but there had to be a way to help, there had to!

Darby smoothed some of the frazzled fur on their head and took another breath. It was going to be hard, but playing cool was their only option until they could deduce who the owner of the van was, or at least get one bar of service. They walked back to the rest stop, holding their phone above their head again.

They tucked it back into their pocket when they opened the doors, swallowing the lump in their throat when they saw the two other yōkai, now sitting at the table. The rat decked out in purple smiled at Darby as they walked inside with what might’ve been a warm smile if he didn’t have such an air of coldness to him. Darby tried their best to smile at him back, though it probably looked more like a grimace. They didn’t smile much, anyways.

They sat back down in their chair, taking in the sight of playing cards on the table and the scent of cheap instant coffee wafting in the air. “Well, hello,” the rat said in a friendly tone, “It looks like we have everyone here! My name’s Danny.”

He reached a hand out to Darby, and they gingerly shook it. “Darby…”

Though the ogre yōkai to the right of Danny was sitting at the table with everyone else, he didn’t make any move to speak, focusing more on the deck of cards in his hands, which he was shuffling with his thick fingers. Darby eyed him nervously. Silent and sullen-seeming, he might’ve been the type to hide a human in his van, but Darby stopped themself from making any assumptions. If there was one thing their mother taught them, it’s that one can’t judge from feeling alone. Darby knew plenty of quiet and sullen people, including themself. That didn’t mean that they had a human in their car. The snake in the grass could be any one of the people they shared the table with.

“So, where are you all headed?”

Rafferty struck up conversation again, glancing around at everyone. “I’m headed to Shimmering Isle with Juane.”

“I’m going to the Enclave. Don’t you just need a change of scenery every once in a while?” Danny said, raising his coffee cup up to his mouth.

“That’s neat, son. And where are you headed, Darby?”

Darby’s throat went dry as they opened their mouth to speak, eyes darting around the room as they tried to think up a place for them to say. They just wanted to get away from the Hidden City, they didn’t realize they would have to lie to a stranger about it.

Luckily for them, Danny spilled his coffee on Mickey, and luckily for Mickey, it was only lukewarm at that point. Still, he groaned when the dark liquid stained his bright orange t-shirt and ran down his tail. Danny apologized profusely, but it didn’t seem genuine to Darby. Maybe not to Mickey, either, as he was glaring at Danny like he had just defaced a priceless family heirloom.

Darby took advantage of the commotion and slipped inside the bathroom again, looking around for a window or a back door until they saw a big hole covered up with a piece of flimsy plywood. They grabbed a crowbar near the hole, and pried it open with some effort. They rushed back to the van and slipped the edge of the crowbar between the cracks of the passenger seat door, prying it open, too.

The cat yōkai crawled inside the car and closed the door behind them, practically diving to you. They lifted up your head gently, awkwardly petting it with their other hand in an attempt to soothe your cries and whimpers from behind your gag. “Hey, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine,” they repeated like a mantra, trying to convince themselves more than you. “My name is Darby, and I’m gonna get us out of here, okay? We’re gonna get out here.”

Darby grabbed the side of your gag, attempting to pull it off when they heard the driver’s side handle jiggling, whoever was attempting to open it was having a hard time. Darby’s eyes widened, and their eyes darted around to find a hiding place. Spotting a pile of blankets in the corner right behind the driver’s seat, they slipped under it, tucking the crowbar in, pulling their legs in and internally praying that their ears didn’t stick out.

The door opened, and someone slid into the front seat. Yanking the door shut, Mickey’s voice muttered angrily.

“You could’ve just tapped me, you could’ve done ANYTHING but spill coffee on me! Man, this is totally gonna stain!”

Tears ran down your face as you craned your neck to gaze up at Mickey, curling into yourself on the floor. He heard your sniffles and looked down at you, his face now set in gentle confusion and concern instead of the death glare he sported merely a moment ago. “Oh, sorry, little pike. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, “It’s just- Danny can be such an a-” Mickey cut himself off, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Danny can be very mean… sometimes.”

He said this through gritted teeth, as though it was physically painful for him to talk in the way one would to a kindergartener. He ran his arm over the fin on the top of his head, closing his eyes. “Oh, yeah!” He exclaimed, opening his eyes again, “I’m supposed to be checking on you. Are you okay?” He took notice of your puffy eyes and shaky breaths, “You don’t look so good-”

MIckey halted his sentence, his eyes widening as he looked at the uncovered back window and the piece of cardboard near your feet, “What the hell?! Did you do that?!” He pulled himself into the back, scrambling towards the door. He snatched the cardboard up from the floor and put it back on the window before turning back around to you. “We told you not to touch the windows!”

You started to sob again, eyes shutting tightly as you curled up into yourself. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t cry. You’re gonna be okay.” Mickey switched back to his gentle tone, petting your head with his arm, “Trust me, things’ll get a lot better when we get to Jadetown.” He said this while using his other arm to reach into one of the many boxes in the van, pulling out a shirt exactly like the one he was wearing, except that it didn’t have a coffee stain on it. He pulled off his black coat, inspecting the stormy fur that lined the hood to see if there was any trace of coffee on it, and set it aside to change his shirt.

After Mickey pulled his coat back on, he grinned at you and petted your head again. “I have to go back inside now, people’ll think I’ve died, haha!” He clambered back into the driver's seat and got out of the van. He slithered towards the rest stop again, pulling his jacket closer around him. Mickey wasn’t paying attention to the world in front of him, as always, so it was a surprise when he bumped into the chest of Leonard, with Danny behind him. If looks could kill, the ogre yōkai would have a bigger body count than he already had, but it wasn’t directed at Mickey, no, he was glaring at their van. The eel looked back at him and the van, confused.

“What is it, Len?” Mickey asked, “Is there a scratch on the paint, or-”

“No, there isn’t a scratch!” Leonard snarled, “Where’s the cat?”

Mickey looked back to the van, eyes shooting towards the bootprints leading towards its back door.

Once they were sure that Mickey was back inside, Darby slipped out of it again, and rushed over to you again. This time, they were able to take off your gag, and you coughed and cried and took shaky, deep breaths as though your head had just been let up out of a bucket of water. Darby lifted your head up, wrapping an arm around your back in support.

“What did he mean by ‘we’? Are there other people with him?”

You let out another sob, “Yes, yes, yes- Please, please help me…” You spoke incoherently after you has answered Darby’s question, but their blood ran cold as they looked up and saw three figures standing outside of the rest stop door, their stares rapt on the van. Darby’s fur stood up on end, and after they stumbled back, tipping a few boxes over mistakenly, they pulled open the back door and fell into the snow. They scrambled into the surrounding forest, hoping to loop back while your kidnappers were distracted.

You felt the hope that you would be saved disappear with Darby into the trees, tears flowing from your eyes and down your face in grief for your potential freedom. The harsh wind from the open door felt bitterly cold. The sliding door on the side of the van was yanked open by Leonard, who looked at the open back door and the objects littered around the van from Darby’s getaway. He seethed in anger, clenching his fist. “Mickey, come with me. Danny, stay here.” As he and Mickey ran off after the cat yōkai who could ruin everything for them, Danny got into the back of the van and closed all the doors. After he re-fastened the gag around your mouth, he pet your cheek and smiled.

Darby stumbled through the trees, pushing branches out of their way and trying not to trip over roots and rocks hidden under the heavy snow. They heard shouting behind them, along with the faint sound of a pair of footsteps that weren’t their own and what sounded like something being dragged across the snow.

The farther they ran, the harder it was for them to keep their balance. They nearly slipped with every step, but they refused to let themself give up. If those criminals caught them, they would be as good as dead. Darby started to practically climb up the hill, seeing the distant light from the rest stop glowing above their head. The running and shouting was getting closer, “Get back here! You’ll ruin everything!”

They ignored every word the ogre and the eel shouted at them, only focused on their goal; get back to the stop and tell Rafferty and Juane what was going on. That was the only way they would have even a sliver of a chance saving you. The light grew brighter, they were almost there! But anything that seems too good to be true usually is, for the moment they caught a glimpse of the roof, Danny jumped in front of them from seemingly nowhere, making them stumble back.

The back of their boot snagged on a root hidden deep beneath the glimmering snow, but instead of falling back on the hill and landing upside-down, they started to roll down the hill, getting face-full after face-full of dirt, leaves, and snow. Leonard reached out to grab them, but they knocked him over so that he started to roll, too.

Darby and Leonard hit a tree, hard. It knocked the wind out of Darby’s lungs, but Leonard was able to recover faster. Darby opened their swirling eyes and saw a gun slipping out of the inside pocket of Leonard’s jacket as he was reaching out for them. Just as it fell out, they shot their hand out and gripped it like their life depended on it, which it did.

Quickly regaining their senses, Darby pushed themself back with their feet, taking advantage of Leonard’s shock to stand up and point the gun in front of them, shifting its aim between Danny, Mickey, and Leonard, who had stood up and was closing in on them with the other two.

“Come on, kid,” Danny said, “We don’t want trouble. Hand over the gun and keep your mouth shut, and nothing bad will happen to you.”

“I’m not an idiot, don’t lie to me!” Darby said, voice raised, “Stay away, or I’ll shoot you. I’ll do it!”

Danny honed in on the way they were holding the gun, and scoffed internally. They didn’t know how to use that thing. If he were to run out and grab it, he would’ve been able to push them into the stream aways down before they figured out where the trigger was.

“No, you won’t. Come on, we want to get out of here just as much as you do.”

“I bet you do. Why do you have a human?”

“It’s impolite to ask about other people’s business, dear,” he condescended, taking tiny steps forwards.

“It’s everyone’s business if you have it tied up!”

“You don’t know anything!” Leonard yelled, making Darby jump.

The moment the cat's eyes flitted away from him, Danny lunged at them. The two struggled with the gun for a few seconds before it fired into the snow, startling everyone. Darby pushed the rat off of them and made a mad dash towards the top, going as twice as fast as they had before. Crashing footsteps sounded through the forest, but this time, only in the forest. There was no fourth accomplice waiting to grab them at the stop, so they made it safely into the rest stop again, slamming the glass doors behind them. Rafferty and Juane stared at them, apt confusion on both of their faces.

“What’s wrong, Darby? What’s going on?”

The cat was out of breath, holding their hand up to their chest and wheezing. “Dan, Mick, Leonard-”

“What about them-” Rafferty began to inquire, but cut himself off at the sight of the aforementioned yōkai nearing the door, each with a menacing look and a weapon in their hand. Darby turned to face them and wondered, did they get the other two from the truck? They probably did, Darby thought, but shook their head. It wasn’t important where they got the weapons when they were closing in like a kettle of vultures to roadkill.

“What are they doing, Darby?” Juane asked, holding on to her husband's arm as they backed up out of their seats.

“They have a human tied up in their van, and they know I know it.”

The two elder yōkai gasped, holding on to each other tighter. “What are we going to do?” Juane asked, “I haven’t fought since-”

“No, no. Go hide.” Darby interrupted, “I started this. I’ll finish it.”

Rafferty and Juane looked at each other for a moment, then nodded. Darby continued to stare down the approaching criminals as the sound of swift footsteps faded behind them. Each of them had a murderous look on their face.

As they got closer and closer, Darby realized something. They had no weapon of their own. They left the crowbar in the van, and even if they did have it, they were facing three yōkai that had probably killed before. Darby never once won a schoolyard fight, what made them think they could take on three criminals? They backed up as they thought of the foolishness of their plan, mentally berating themself for their impulsiveness.

This was all their fault. They were going to be murdered, then Rafferty and Juane would probably be found and face the same fate. Then you would get carted off to who-knows-where and be subjected to who-knows-what. For the first time in months, tears welled up in Darby’s eyes as they stumbled backwards and hit the wall.

You squirmed across the floor towards the pile of blankets in the corner that Darby had taken refuge under. None of your captors has time to search the van. You shoved your bound arms under the blanket, feeling up and down until your hands hit the cold piece of metal. You grabbed it, and tried to tug on the knot of your ropes with the end of it as hard you could.

Minutes passed with barely any results, and you were about to give up when you felt the grip the ropes had on your arms loosen. Your soul rose and flew, and you continued to tug until they had slipped off. You pushed yourself up and started to practically throw every restraint off, cradling yourself once you threw the ropes and the gag far away from you.

The only thing you wanted to do was curl up and cry, but you had already done enough of that the past few days. You had to get out of here, maybe Darby was still alive. Maybe they were still around. Probably not, you thought to yourself. If they were fast, the Mud Dogs were faster. The last time you had tried to run, they had caught you in under a minute. But maybe there were still other people who could help you. You had been drilled countless times about how no other yōkai would like humans as much, but this could be your last chance. If they had made it to Jadetown, who knows when you would be allowed outside again? They did say they had to lay low for a while, you heard them arguing about it.

Shaking off your fears, you crawled into the driver's seat and opened the door, falling face-first into the snow. You stood on your wobbly legs and stumbled to the hood of the truck, where you saw the wide-open doors of the building your captors were in, and a bullet going into your would-be savior's head. Blood and flesh splattered all over the dark wood of the walls, and you suppressed a scream.

You fell backwards into the snow, putting a hand over your mouth and scooting away. You couldn’t find the strength to stand up. You took a glance around the parking lot. There were definitely more than two cars, but who did they belong to? You couldn’t see or hear anyone else in the building. You didn’t think they were dead. You would’ve heard screaming or a gunshot or-

You broke yourself out of your thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that. You needed to get away. If one of them turned around, your freedom would come to an end. No, you had to get into the woods. At least you could be a little concealed there. Then you could figure out what to do.

With newfound confidence and adrenaline, you made yourself stand up again. You glanced around, and saw the entrance to a hiking trail 30 yards away from you. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you stumbled to the trail, heading into more darkness.

The Mud Dogs walked out of the bathroom, having killed the other two yōkai that were in there and washing the blood off of their faces and hands. Leonard smoothed his hair, closing his eyes and taking a breath. It had been a long night. First, the storm. Then Darby came along. He growled at the thought of them, trying to hold himself back from kicking their body. This was all their fault. They had to lay low, and the cat almost ruined everything. He sighed. There was no use hanging up on it.

“Why is the van door open?”

Leonard and Danny snapped up at Mickey’s question, honing in on the parking lot. He was right, it was open. Tiny footsteps led to the side, going off into the forest. Leonard froze. You didn’t.

You did.

When the Mud Dogs ran out and opened the van, you were nowhere to be found. Your restraints were on the floor with a crowbar. Leonard barely bit back his scream of anger. All of the trouble they went through tonight, and now you had run off into the snowy woods without proper clothes and you were going to freeze to death if they didn’t find you on time. Just wonderful.

The three ran after your footsteps into the woods, Leonard ordering Mickey to go right after it had gotten too dark to see the forest floor. Leonard and Danny tramped forwards, pushing branches aside and keeping their ears open for any noises over the snowstorm. Danny groaned internally. Out of all the things to forget back in the Hidden City, why did it have to be the flashlight?

“Dollface! Come back!” Danny shouted, his voice echoing off the trees.

“There’s no use in yelling, Danny. They’re not going to come to us no matter how cold they are.”

“Well, at least I’m trying.” Danny mumbled, feeling his feet numb through his boots, “Maybe Mickey found them…”

“He would’ve yelled for us. Go left, I’ll keep going on ahead. They couldn't have gone far.”

You dragged your numb feet through the deep snow, trying to stay awake. The snow had soaked through your socks, which were worse-for-wear. You tried to keep yourself optimistic in spite of your numb hands and feet and exhausted mind and body. All you needed to do was make it to a road, or a house, or someone who wasn’t a criminal. That was all you…

You fell to your knees, throwing your hands in front of you to stop your nose from hitting the ground. You could barely hold yourself up, your arms shaking from weakness and the cold. Snow and ice whipped at your face, making you somehow sting and feel numb at the same time. Your attempts to push yourself up were in vain, as you fell into the snow the moment you lifted your arms. You could only turn your head to the side to avoid suffocating in the snow, and nothing else. Your thoughts felt foggy and the snow twisted to swirls in your vision. You were so cold. So tired. You just wanted to go home.

Danny called out your name, his ears twitching for any sort of answer or noise. Along with his insane worry, he also held anger at you. How could you do this to them? Why didn’t you just stay put?

“Hey, I found them!”

Mickey’s shout rang throughout the woods, and Danny ran towards the sound of his voice. Leonard was already there, kneeling towards your unconscious body and hoisting you off of the ground, feeling your pulse.

“Are they alive?” Danny asked, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.

“Yeah, they are, but they’re freezing. Let’s get them by that heater.”

They sped off towards the rest stop, Leonard carrying you in his arms. They reached the indoors, Mickey closing the doors behind them after he had retrieved a few lengths of rope from the van. Leonard pulled a chair in front of the heater on the left side of the room, setting you down in it. Mickey tied your arms and legs to the chair’s own limbs, making sure to tighten them to the point where you were sure to have bruises on your skin if you struggled.

Leonard cast off his jacket and threw it over you, making sure that your practically frozen fingers and feet still faced the heater. As mad as he was at you, he wouldn’t go so far as to cause body parts to fall off. He sank into a chair, leaning back and closing his eyes. It had been a long night. They just needed to sit for a while.

Danny clenched his hands around his chair, his sharp nails digging into the wood. They needed to keep you on a tighter leash. Look what you did the moment they took their eyes off of you. It was all the cat's fault. You had already gotten worked up, all antsy inside the van. Their little intervention didn’t do you any favors. Danny steeled himself. They learned something from this. You were going to learn something from this. It had been about a month since they had taken you in, and you still didn’t realize how much they cared for you. He gripped the seat in anger again. Ungrateful brat.

Mickey was grabbing random objects on the other side of the room to electrocute until they were either crispy or ash, the smell of burning filling the room. He threw his debris to the side before continuing on something else. Leonard turned his head towards his teal cohort. “Mickey! Stop that!”

Mickey gave him a death stare, but ceased his violence towards inanimate objects. He slithered over to a chair and crossed his arms, like a kid who was forced to go to their siblings piano recital.

Leonard rubbed his face with his hands. They still needed to take care of you, even if you had run off. What was the point in saving you if they didn’t take care of you afterwards? And besides, the last thing they needed was for you to get sick. Danny was the only one who really knew how to care of a sick person, and he would be fuming at you for a few days, at the very least.

He walked to the counter, taking a TV dinner and shoving it into the microwave. Once it was done, he took it out and walked over to you, pulling up a chair and sitting across from you. He grabbed your shoulder and shook you until your bleary eyes opened to a sliver.

The light was blinding after being stuck in a dark van for so long. You closed them again, but Leonard shook you again.

“Wake up,” He said.

Your entire body felt hot and cold at the same time, truly punctuating your discomfort. You were shivering and your head hurt something awful. Leonard poked a spoon against your lips. “Eat.”

You had refused to eat early in your captivity. It didn’t go well. The thought of having food shoved down your throat made you want to gag, so you opened your mouth and ate the food you were offered. You had to admit, it made you hurt a little less, having something in your stomach. Even if it was a crappy frozen dinner.

Leonard tossed out the plastic container, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door. You could vaguely hear the sound of a sink inside.

Just as you were about to try to sleep off the pain, Danny stood up. You watched him jerk his head towards the bathroom at Mickey, and the eel got up and went in. Danny walked towards you with a purpose in his steps and eyes, and he didn’t stop until he was right in front of you.

“How could you?” He almost whispered, the rage in his eyes apparent. “After everything we’ve done for you, how well we treat you, you still run from us?” He said, his voice raising, “What, do you think we’re not good enough, huh?”

Danny clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at you. “You selfish, ungrateful brat. We take such good care of you, and you just spit that goodwill back in our face.” He leaned forwards and grabbed your face, his nails digging into your cheeks. “Never do this again. Even think about it, and I’ll show you just how bad I can be.”

You started to sniffle, which turned into full-on sobbing in a matter of moments. Your cries filled Danny with even more rage. How could you be the one crying? He hadn’t even done anything that was worth spilling tears over. He gritted his teeth as his mind went blind with rage. He’d give you something to cry about.

He raised his hand, and brought it down upon your cheek.

Danny took a step back from you as your sobbing stopped for a second, and came back in full force, a bright handprint now on your cheek. A wave of guilt flashed over him, but he turned away from you so he didn’t have to look at your trembling. You deserved it, he told himself over and over.

Leonard and Mickey walk back into the room a moment later, talking in hushed voices. When he hears your crying, Leonard halts and stares at you and the blooming bruise on your cheek. His eyes widen, and Mickey looks back and forth between everyone before grinning.

“Looks like Dan got to them first,” He said, and strolled back to his seat. Leonard turned his gaze on Danny’s back with clenched fists and a twitching eye. “What were you thinking?!” He snaps, “They’re already all cold and roughed up, what if you broke them?!”

Danny scoffs, his gaze focused on the wall and all the guilt seeming to wash away from him. “Oh, please. They’re not made of glass. They deserved it.”

Leonard took a deep breath. “We’ve all had a long night. Don’t make it even longer.”

Danny didn’t respond. Leonard resisted the urge to yell at him. As much as he wanted to, he had to make sure that Danny didn’t do lasting damage. He grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and approached you, pulling up a chair.

He held your chin up with one hand and held the ice pack up to your bruising cheek with the other. By then, your sobbing had turned to quiet hiccups and sniffles, and you were merely shivering instead of shaking like a leaf. Leonard didn’t show it, but concern rose in his chest. You ran, and that deserved consequences, but you were only a human. A tiny human, at that, weak and fragile. He had heard the stories. Humans could die if they went to bed wrong. Unfortunately, his cohorts didn’t know that, if he wasn’t there to stop them, they would’ve already broken you, and then what?

He sighed and looked at you. You diverted your gaze away from him as much as you could with his grip on your face. “Hey,” He almost whispered, “I’ll tell Danny to leave you alone, but if you run again, I might not be able to stop him.”

You finally faced him as he let go of your chin, and nodded. Your cheek flared in pain as it rubbed against the ice pack.

The Mud Dogs loaded into their van again, the approaching dawn apparent. Fresh ropes bound your arms and legs, although the gag wasn’t as tight as to not hurt your cheek. Mickey sat next to you, leaning against the wall. When you looked into the gloomy skies of the yōkai world through your glimpses of the windshield, you imagined the sun shining on your face

Taglist: @yanteetle @oleander-nin

#platonic yandere #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere mud dogs #mud dogs #mud dogs rottmnt #yandere mud dogs rottmnt #yandere mud dogs x reader #platonic yandere mud dogs x reader #mud dogs x reader #platonic mud dogs x reader

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

Much Ado About Books

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (Bookshop AU)

Word Count: 3,811

Summary: You get caught in the rain and seek shelter in a cozy bookshop nearby, finding it’s the best place for books, sweets and romance.

Author’s Note: I’ve been sitting on his AU with Eddie for a bit and I’m so glad I finally got it out! He’s so soft and sweet and yummy and there is nothing I love more than books and boys haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Bat divider by the lovely @wannabehamlet and book divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you loves both bunches! 🥰

Warnings: Books, sweets, fluffs and fun

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @lesbianrobin thanks a bunch sweets 🥰

Eddie Munson Masterlist

The gray skies and light wind were no indication of the sudden deluge of rain that fell from above and promptly started to soak through your clothes. Your eyes search for the closest available shelter, seeing a small awning below a large sign that read “Books.”

You dash for the shop, your feet already squishing in your shoes and your head down to avoid the cold drops of rain. That’s why you were completely taken by surprise when you ran into something hard and then in almost the same second you’re wrapped in strong arms.

When you lift your head you’re met with the softest brown eyes, the color of perfected chocolate and it steals your breath.

Once you’re able to drag your gaze away from his you start to apologize, realizing your fingers are fisted into his wet flannel and you’re still in his arms, and despite the cold, you feel your body flush with the heat of awareness and you step out of his hold.

“I’m sorry,” you say, grinning apologetically. “I was not expecting that rain.”

He gives you a nod, his long and curly hair sticking to the sides of his face as the corner of his mouth pulls up into a sideways smile. Without saying a word he reaches for the door to the shop and pushes it open.

“You can come in if you want,” he says, holding the door.

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking back out at the rain.

“Of course,” he answers. “We’re open. And even if we weren’t I wouldn’t leave you out in the rain.”

“Ok. Thanks.” You walk in, brushing past him and reigniting the momentary flare of heat from his body, the action causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Can I get you something? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate?”

He asks this as walks toward the counter of the bookshop, his heavy boots squeaking along the wooden floors. When he rounds the counter he grabs two cups and a towel. He sets the cups down before bringing you the towel.

“Thank you,” you whisper, pressing it to your face before drying your clothes as best as you can. “And tea would be great.”

“You got it,” he says before heading for the coffee machine. “I’ve got green, chamomile, earl gray, and English breakfast.”

“Green please,” you start. “Can I help with anything?”

He shakes his head no and turns on the coffee maker then grabs himself a towel and starts to wring out his hair. His curls are extra wild once he’s done and your fingers itch to run through them.

When the tea is ready he strides over and motions to one of the small tables at the front of the shop by the large window. You slide into the seat across from him and take the mug between your fingers, relishing in it’s warmth.

Your eyes settle on him as he sips the tea and relaxes into the chair. Your gaze drops to his hands and the rings that adorn his long fingers, each one sparking your interest.

Deciding to ask him more about them later you tell him, “I’ve never been here before.”

He smiles over his mug. “Welcome to Bard and Books. I’m Eddie.”

You return his smile and introduce yourself before you look around the shop. The dark walnut floor is worn by foot traffic but it still retains it’s natural beauty and several brass sconces line the walls, breaking up the darkness, while tall bookshelves fill the space beyond the counter.

The front area has several small tables with chairs as well as a love seat and a large couch. Wall-mounted Tiffany lamps hang above the area and give it a cozy, almost romantic vibe. The smell of old leather, dust worn pages and something sweet lingers in the air.

“Do I smell cookies?” you ask, your eyes sparkling.

He grins and gets up, jogging to a small display case by the cash register and pulling something from it. He promptly returns with two large chocolate chip cookies.

“My friend Steve makes them. He owns the bakery down the street. They’re amazing. We also have brownies and muffins, but the cookies are my favorite.”

You break off a piece of yours and pop it into your mouth, savoring the sweet bite with a low moan, your eyes closing.

“Wow, you were right!” you say excitedly as you open your eyes.

You find him staring at your mouth and there is a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. He clears his throat when his eyes lift to yours and stuffs a chunk of cookie between his lips.

You dip your head and fiddle with your hands in your lap, only lifting your eyes to check out the rows and stacks of books.

“Mind if I have a look around?” you ask.

“Go right ahead,” he motions, finishing off his cookie.

You wander up and down the aisles, your fingers reverently brushing along the spines of the books and kicking up that familiar and comforting smell of leather and print. You stop at the “Fantasy” section and browse the titles, reaching up on your toes to grab one book in particular.

You can’t quite reach it and you settle back on your feet and search for a stool, spotting one at the end of the aisle. Once you drag it over you step up and close your fingers around the binding. Without getting down you start to thumb through the pages, smiling and reminiscing over one of your favorite stories.

“Do you always read while standing on stools?”

The sound of his voice startles you, having been so caught up in the story, and you teeter on the edge of the stool. With a yelp you start to careen backward, gravity taking over and dragging you toward the floor.

But before you hit it, strong arms once again wrap around your waist and you land hard against Eddie’s chest, his hair brushing your cheeks as you let out a shaky exhale and cling to him for dear life. The smell of his shampoo surrounds you, mixing with the rain and something distinctly him, warm and spicy.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, hiding your face. “I’m so sor…”

“You shouldn’t be apologizing,” he starts, giving your waist a soft squeeze. “I kinda snuck up on you.”

You let out a small huff of laughter and bring your eyes up, noting the slight gleam of amusement dancing in his.

“So then it’s your fault,” you state playfully.

“Yep, sorry about that sweetheart, but I wish you could have seen yourself up there.”

“Oh so now you’re making fun of me?” you ask, feigning shock. “We just met!”

You both try to glare at each other but it quickly fades and turns into big smiles and laughter.

When you press your hand over your mouth to contain your giggle you tilt your head forward slightly and bump Eddie’s in the process.

His resounding “ow!” makes you laugh harder and you curl into him, trying to regain some composure. It isn’t until you let out a steadying exhale that you realize your face is buried in his hair and you’re still clutching him.

“Oh,” you start, slowly pulling away. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” he says softly, “it’s ok, really.”

His fingers grasp your chin, forcing your head up and your gaze to his. He dips his head and you hold your breath, dropping your eyes to his lips.

The distant ring of a phone sounds but you barely notice it, your hands tightening in his shirt.

“I have to get that,” he breathes out, disappointment in his eyes.

“What?” you ask, blinking.

“The phone…I should get it.”

“OH! Of course,” you say quickly and step out of his hold.

You watch him walk away and disappear around the corner, your body deflating and sagging against the shelf.

You clutch the book to your chest and continue looking around, noting all the small details about the shop. Each section is labeled by genre and the signs are clearly hand drawn in a bold but elegant print that elicits a magical feel.

Small and fantastical designs frame each title and just as you’re wondering who designed them, Eddie slides up behind you.

“You like them?” he asks.

“I love them,” you tell him, “did you create them?”

“I did!” he smiles. “I like to make things.”

“You’re very good at it,” you state.

When you’re back by the counter you place your book down.

“Oh man, I love this series!!!” he says excitedly.

“Me too! My first copy is so worn at this point I’m getting myself a new one,” you explain as you pull out your wallet.

“You know the third book,” he starts to tell you, his eyes bright, “’The Woman Who Rides Like A Man’ comes out at the end of this month!”

Your squeal of excitement precedes your enthusiastic, “I KNOW!” and you find yourself smiling at him for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“It’s on me,” he says, shooing away your money.

“No Eddie, I want to support the store!”

“You will when you come in and get the new book from me,” he says with a wink.

“Are you sure?” you ask, frowning for the first time since you’ve been in his presence.

“Definitely. And take a cookie.”

He grabs another of Steve’s cookies and wraps it up, placing both the book and cookie in a small bag. He holds it up but doesn’t place it in your outstretched hand.

“What?” you question, narrowing your eyes with a smirk.

“Promise you’ll come back soon?”

“I have to get the third book,” you say.

“Yea but before that. Come back before that.”

His expression softens and you watch his eyes wander over your face, his gaze stopping on your mouth and lingering before he meets your stare again.

“I promise,” you assure him. “The cookies are way too good!”

He huffs out a laugh and hands you the bag, jogging around the counter to walk you out.

“At least the rain stopped,” he muses as he looks out the large front window.

He shoves his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and shifts on his feet.

“Bye Eddie,” you whisper. “And thanks. For everything.”

“Anytime,” he says before he drops his head and hides in his hair.

You take a step closer to him and his head whips up, big brown eyes wide. With a quickness mostly born out of nervousness you lean in and place a soft kiss on his cheek.

You hear his breath catch and when you move back his eyelashes are fluttering closed.

“I’ll see you soon,” you say and reach for the door.

He shakes himself free of the moment and grabs the handle before you do, holding it open so you can step out.

“Can’t wait,” he says with a shy smile.

“So she liked my cookies huh?” Steve asks with a smug expression.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “She loved ‘em.”

“Of course she did,” Steve answers, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the bakery counter. “When is she coming in to see me?”

“I’ll invite her soon,” Eddie says as he grabs a brownie.

He shoves half in his mouth before adding, “I gave her a free copy of ‘Alanna’. She said her original is all worn.”

“I never get free books from you and I give you free cookies!” Steve teases.

“Yea well as pretty as you are you’re not that pretty,” Eddie pokes right back with a smile.

Steve let’s out a disgruntled huff and musses with his hair. “Whatever Munson. Just wait until I meet her.”

You find yourself standing in front of Bard and Books only three days later, this time under the warm and shining sun. A younger woman and a small child approach, saying “excuse me” before they open the door and enter.

Without letting it close you follow behind, noting how they seem to know exactly where to go. You can hear Eddie’s voice from the back of the shop and you follow the woman and child in that direction.

The little girl releases her mother’s hand and rushes around a large bookshelf. You move slowly and quietly not wanting to interrupt whatever might be going on but when you peek around the books you’re taken by complete surprise.

Eddie is seated on a low stool, a bandana wrapped around his head and a large children’s book in his hands. He greets all the children seated in a circle on the floor in front of him, asking if they’re ready for story time.

A loud and squeaky cheer erupts from the floor and Eddie smiles wide. He hasn’t noticed you yet and starts to introduce the book to the kids. Every word he reads he exudes energy and enthusiasm, doing different voices for different characters and moving his body to make things more dramatic.

The kids eat it up and their sole focus in on his every word and move. You’re in the exact same state they are, unable to pull your eyes away from him and finding yourself completely engrossed in the children’s story.

When he’s finished the kids start yelling for more but their parents gently coax them away to search the children’s section so Eddie can have a break before he reads again.

You step out from behind the shelves and catch his eye. He immediately lights up when he sees you and in a few long strides he’s standing in your space.

“You came back,” he says on an exhale.

“And you were amazing! The kids absolutely loved it!”

“And how about you?” he asks, as he nervously grabs a piece of his hair and folds it between his fingers.

“’Where the Wild Things Are’” is one of my favorite books and I’ve never loved it more.”

You can see his cheeks begin to brighten as he mutters a soft “thank you.”

“What are you going to read them next?” you ask.

“Sylvester and the Magic Pebble,” Eddie grins.

You clap your hands together with a hop. “Can I stay and listen too?”

He throws his head back with a laugh and when his eyes settle on yours they are still crinkled at the sides.

“Yea, definitely! Get comfortable.”

You skip over to one of the empty chairs that are set up for the parents and sit, drinking in every moment of his performance just as much as the kids.

After story time is over and the kids have all left, books in tow, Eddie ushers you to the front and offers you another cookie.

“Steve was happy you liked them so much,” he tells you.

“You mentioned me to Steve?” you ask, you tone playful.

“Well…you know, he likes to hear when his cookies get rave reviews soooooo…”

That familiar blush colors his cheeks and you giggle as he shoves some cookie into his mouth.

“You should come to the bakery some time. Steve has coffee and tea and all that stuff,” Eddie motions.

“I like all that stuff,” you say with a grin.

“How about tonight?” he asks.

“Sounds great.”

“Wow Steve,” you mumble. “Oh my gosh. This brownie is so good.”

Steve smiles wide and he seems to grow an inch taller when he straightens up and puffs out his chest.

“Thanks. I’m glad you like it. I’m trying to perfect my recipe,” Steve explains.

You finish off your last bite and give him two thumbs up as you chew. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on you and you turn toward him.

“So good,” you state one more time. “I’m definitely going to be a regular here.”

Eddie can’t take his eyes off you and when you swallow and lick your lips his gaze follows the motion, heat building in it.

“What?” you ask, wiping at your lips.

Steve looks between the two of you and asks, “do you guys want to try my sugar cookies? Just baked them this morning.”

“You have a little something,” Eddie murmurs as he steps into your space.

“They even have my special icing on them,” Steve continues.

Eddie lifts his thumb to the corner of your mouth and gently swipes it across your skin. You lean into his touch with a whispered, “thanks.”

“Hello?!” Steve huffs loudly, waving his hand in your faces.

“Huh?” Eddie grunts, finally acknowledging Steve’s presence.

“Do. You. Want. To. Try. My. Sugar. Cookies?” Steve asks again, this time punctuating each word.

“Yea totally, “Eddie answers. “No need to be a butthead about it.”

“Me? A…I’m the…” Steve stammers, his eyebrows drawn in.

Steve throws his hands up and marches off, mumbling, “I’ll be right back.”

“Sometimes he’s a little grumpy,” Eddie states as he drops his hand.

You giggle and lean into him. “It’s ok. The sweets are worth it.”

When you show up at the book shop the next weekend, Eddie is just walking out of the back room with a group of kids but this time you can tell they are all older teenagers. He spots you lingering by the door and jogs over.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

It catches you off guard and your breath hitches and when he pulls away you’re staring at his mouth.

Too deep in the tension between you and Eddie the approach of the teenagers goes unnoticed and when one speaks and asks, “is this her?” you jerk your head in his direction.

Eddie smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head.

“Uh yeah,” Eddie says and introduces you to each of them.

After they all say hello and pepper you with random questions Eddie kicks them out.

“That’s my Dungeons and Dragons group,” he explains, leading you toward the back. “We play every week.”

You walk into a large back room, furnished with a long folding table and lined with walls of shelves covered in books and figurines. There are several posters along the one wall free of shelves and the table is littered with dice.

“This is an awesome space,” you say excitedly as you peruse the room.

“Thanks. We have fun. Do you play?”

“I haven’t but it looks fun!”

You toy with the figures and flip through some books as Eddie follows you around and gives you the shortened explanation of everything.

“Come play with us next time,” he say as you make your way back to the books.

“Really?” you ask, genuinely excited.

“Totally.”

The next few weeks pass in a blur of books, cookies and Eddie. Your visits to the shop become more and more frequent and the obvious tension between the two of you grows.

When you show up on the release date of the third book in ‘The Song of the Lioness’ series, you’re not surprised to see the store filled with more book lovers than usual.

You meander through the crowd and head to a quieter spot in the back, not wanting to disturb Eddie as he deals with all the customers.

You’re just pulling out one of the Dragonlace Chronicle books when you hear his voice. It washes over you in a heated awareness that sets your skin tingling.

“Those are great,” he offers as he walks toward you.

“You’ve read them?” you ask.

“I read everything,” he replies, drawing closer until he’s standing directly in front of you.

His eyes drift to your mouth before he plucks the book from your hands and drags his eyes back up to yours.

“I was going to buy that,” you say softly.

He only nods, stepping so close that his chest brushes yours with his inhale.

“I also need my copy of the third Alanna book,” you whisper, your lips parted with your small breaths as his nearness overwhelms you in the best way possible.

“Don’t worry. I saved one for you behind the counter.”

He places two hands on the books above your head, trapping you against the shelf. He leans in, his warm breath whispering across your lips.

Just before his lips press to yours you hear a loud and boisterous voice calling his name. He let’s out a frustrated grunt and squeezes his eyes shut.

“That would be Dustin and the other rugrats here for their copies too,” he grits out but not without a smile.

You exhale and chew on your bottom lip with a nod.

He makes to push away but not before dipping his mouth to your ear and lightly brushing his lips across the shell when he whispers, “this isn’t over sweetheart.”

With an abrupt motion he jerks away and goes striding off around the shelves. You hear the boys erupt into cheers and you press your fingers to your tingling lips, unable to stop your smile.

You spend the next hour curled up on one of the chairs in the back and reading the first book in the Dragonlance Chronicles but your stomach grumbles and you realize you’ve skipped lunch.

“Cookies are lunch right?” you think out loud to yourself.

You lift yourself from the chair and stretch, setting the book down before wandering toward the front of the store in search of Eddie.

You’re just rounding the corner when he finds you, sweeping you under his arm and ushering you back the way you came.

“Hey!” you protest. “I was just coming to get some cookies!”

“Later,” he says as he pulls you into the game room and shuts the door.

You step back until your butt hits the gaming table, Eddie staring at you with that familiar heat in his eyes.

He moves closer, pressing you into the table, and goose bumps rise up all over your arms as his fingertips trail across your bare skin.

Your hands lift to his face and you comb your fingers through his hair before curling them around the back of his neck. His lips part on an exhale and he suddenly grips the backs of your thighs and sits you atop the table, settling between them.

“Eddie,” you murmur, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I had a dream about you last night,” he admits, his eyes dark.

You are about to ask what kind but the explicit hunger in his expression tells you everything.

He bends his head to gently brush his lips to yours, pressing himself harder between your legs. You tighten your fingers in his hair to draw him nearer and he circles his hands around your waist, sliding one up your back.

His rings dig into your skin and you feel dazed from the intensity of the rush of desire from his touch.

“You up for making my dream come true?” he murmurs against your mouth.

@dreamlessinparis @hiddles-rose @ysmmsy @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @nordlysinthewoods @goldylions

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bookshop!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #joseph quinn x reader #bookshop au

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aliorsboxostuff · 10 months

Note

Idk if u will do this request but! Miguel’s time is like futuristic set right? ( trans people would just transition and be more accepted in this timeline sí right? 😭) so Miguel He went to college at a high prestige science university and so did reader for he is too an smart as him with his own creations in robotics and chemistry. Miguel had tried to get alone room accommodation but failed and got partnered up with transftm!reader and they became roommates. Reader fell in love with Miguel but he didn’t notice cuz he was too focused on his work and whatever. Years go by aka spider verse but suddenly miguel needs help from his old college roommate. Angst fluff maybe…smut??? Sorry English isn’t my first language 😭😭

Hey anon! I appreciate the idea and i love how much you fleshed it out! Dont worry, i completely understand your vision, and i get it english is hard for me too lol i hope i got your ideas right tho, sorry this turned into angst more than what i was aiming lmao enjoy all!

History

Tags: Miguel O’hara x FTM!Reader, Villain!Reader, Lyla, Past Relationship, Angst, Falling Out, Fighting, Arguments, Dirty Thoughts, Meet-Cute, Pining, Secret Crushes, Miguel is as dense as ever, poor reader on this one HAHA

They had a history. Of living together, spending time with each other, but despite all of that it all went downhill. Who knew your ex-roommate turns out to be Doc Oct

(Takes place before Post Credit Scene in into the Spiderverse)

—

"Miguel, I hate to tell you this but we can't-"

"There has to be another way, you designed this Lyla!"

"Hey! Don't blame the AI, blame the maker! I only followed what you said!"

Lyla huffs and glitches to another part of the console. Miguel is currently hunched over a table in the corner of his lair, the only light illuminating his project is the light rod over his workbench and the monitors around him.

The girl busies herself with schematics, working out equations and trying to find where they went wrong.

Miguel's latest work on the multiverse brace is to eliminate the glitches that it makes whenever someone uses it. It could potentially lead to wounds from the cells traveling to a different world, and even the healing factor won't fix it. Worst-case scenario, it would lead to a fatal wound, possibly death, and Miguel can't risk that if he's gonna start interdimensional travel.

His eyes scan over the chip connected to his computer, adding and removing codings that might've gone wrong. He's wearing the headband Lyla gifted him, or mailed to him when it was his birthday months ago, to be exact.

"I swear the shell is all good, Miguel. It should all contain the molecules needed for the portal bracelet,"

"Can you please stop calling it that?"

"What? 'Portal'?"

"Yes. It's not a portal, we already have that," Miguel rolls his eyes, gluing them back to the screen.

"Then what are we calling it?" Lyla pouts, adjusting her heart glasses.

"Transdimensional Pathfinding Wristlet."

Lyla pauses her work, and turns to Miguel, her brows raised, the blinks once, twice. "Wh- seriously?"

"Y'know what, I'm not even gonna try," He shakes her head before glitching to another monitor. "Leave it to the crazy scientist to name his things,"

Miguel ignores what his AI had said, instead focusing back on the chip. If this succeeds, it’ll be the first dimensional trip the prototype could make, and he’d prefer not to be a piece of burnt toast once he comes out of it. He coded another line, before he ran a diagnostic. The screen glares red, the annoyingly big letters of ‘ERROR’ pops up.

Miguel blinks, before he feels his claws coming out, promptly making him stand and throw his chair across the room. It shatters, the metal pieces clinking to the concrete floor. He heaves, sharp fangs bared, barely causing anger at his fingertips.

Lyla fixes him with a look. “That your fifth chair Miguel,”

The man takes a steady breath, wiping his hand across his face, working at his jaw. He tilts his head sharply and something pops. He faintly hears Lyla clicking her tongue.

"There's a guy I know,"

—

"What do you mean there isn't any- I booked a single room last week,"

"I'm sorry but there must've been a mishap in the system. I'm going to have to put you with an available roommate,"

"I don't want-" Miguel sighs, tapping his foot insistently. "Look, is there any way I can register for another single room?"

"You can wait a couple of weeks for a vacant room, but you'd need to consult with the head of the faculty." She nodded to him, a regretful look behind those blonde bangs. Miguel huffs, hands on his hips, thinking out a decision.

"Fine," He groans. "Who's still available for a roommate then?"

The girl's brows raise before she quickly types something into the computer, reading out what looks like a list with numbers and names. "Oh!" She smiles. "Room 304, on the third floor is still awaiting a roommate,"

"Great, thank you," Miguel grumbles, already picking up his boxes where he left them on the floor.

"If you'd like-" The girl calls for him again. "I can talk to the faculty member, see if I can help you with the room situation,"

"Sure, I'd appreciate it," Miguel's back is already turned to her as he makes his way to the building's elevator. With his gym bag slung over his shoulder, and the boxes of his unfinished work, traversing the hallway takes a bit of an effort. Students were not mingling around because most of them were already in their rooms, with the time turning just after 5 PM.

Finally, he reaches the elevator doors. Miguel shuffles the boxes into one hand, struggling to press the button before he is beaten to it by another hand reaching for the ascend button too.

"Here man, let me help you," The person says, already picking up the two boxes that cover Miguel's vision even before he said anything.

"Hey don't-" He begins, before he finally gets a good look at the person that dared to touch his scraps. The man in front of him, standing just inches taller than him, hair with an unintelligible style, captivating eyes and the faintest smirk on his lips.

Miguel's brain stutters a bit. "I'm- nevermind, thanks,"

"Of course dude," And Miguel's interest plummets. "What floor?"

"Third please," He nods, pressing the button once he and Miguel get in. The door closes and leaves the two in silence, only the faint whirr of the elevator's machine.

"So, late to dorm assignments?"

"Nah, they messed up my request,"

"Shit, really?" He turns to Miguel, his brows furrowed.

"Yeah, now I'm stuck with a damn roomie,"

"Oh yeah? What room?"

"304, apparently," Miguel huffs, looking down into the box he's carrying, the tape on it peeling slightly. The guy halts, now his brows are raised.

Miguel's turn to look confused, before the guy chuckles lightly. "Funny you say that 'cuz,"

"I'm room 304," He smirks, readjusting the boxes.

There's a pause, before he feels the red of embarrassment gathers on his cheeks. "You're-"

"That damn roomie? Yeah,"

"Fuck, sorry I didn't-"

"No no, it's fine! Really," The guy laughs, shaking his head while Miguel tries to formulate a coherent sentence. "I don't mind man, I get wanting your own space though,"

"Hey, I hope I'll be a good roomie," He bumps Miguel's shoulder lightly, his smile not fading. Miguel finds himself mimicking it slightly. After that, he introduced himself to Miguel, his major and such.

The elevator opens just after that, the two make their way down the hallway. He asks about Miguel's major too, just as they reach the door.

"I seriously didn't think I'd get a roomie," He chuckles, turning the key with a million other key chains. It jingles, before he pushes the door open and into the room. "I'll go check with the front desk-"

"Oh!" He turns after putting down the two boxes he was carrying. "Just got the text, said they'll give you the key tomorrow,"

"Great," Miguel rolls his eyes, putting down his box on the vacant desk and his duffle on the chair. He turns, inspecting the room that he's been sent to stay in. One side is already cluttered with his roommate's stuff, plants and books and papers strewn about. He tilts his head when he spots a flag on his desk.

"You're trans?" Miguel asks, turning to him where he was still standing with his phone out. He hums and lifts his head, meeting Miguel's browns.

"Oh that old thing? Yeah," He scratches the back of his neck. "I know, I get it. No one really cares nowadays, the worlds moved on, whatever,"

He glances at the little flag, pink and white and blue adding color to the messy desk. He smiles. "It's a reminder, I guess,"

Miguel stares at the flag, just once, before he nods and shrugs, turning to open his boxes. "Sure, that's cool,"

He can practically feel the sunshine radiating from his roommate behind him. He crosses his arms, turning again to face him, and he's right because his roommate has a really bright smile. "I hope we'll be good friends, Miguel,"

—

"Miguel there's so many people in Nueva York how am I supposed to-'' Lyla stops, before she grins. "Nevermind, found him!"

Miguel finishes his spider shot, cracking his neck again as he sets the syringe down. He turns towards Lyla, the AI already projecting the location. "Looks like our guy lives in… the slums? I thought you said he was a prodigy,"

"Yeah well not everyone gets a decent job even if they are a genius," Miguel huffs, running his hand through his hair as he looks at the mirror.

"Who's you said the guy was again?" Lyla begins to scroll through the data.

Miguel sighs. "Old roommate, back in college,"

"Ooh, interesting," She giggles.

"Lyla don't-"

"I'm not looking through his history! Just a peek, though,"

Miguel lets out another sigh, walking towards the large opened window. "Uh, hey Miguel, are you sure about this?"

"Why what's wrong?"

Lyla displays her screen as it glitches in front of Miguel. According to her research, the old roomie has been caught by the police stealing items from hardware stores and electronic stores, a handful of accounts of disruption of peace according to the other tenants in his old apartment. And he's currently deemed missing.

"Where did you say his location was?" Miguel reads through the file, his brows knitted.

"Just here, some abandoned warehouse in the slums,"

—

“Miguel, man, you’ve got to eat,” A tray for warm food was suddenly placed between Miguel's paperwork. He huffs, pushing the plate away and to the edge of his already small table. He hears a sigh, before the plate is moved out of his peripherals, and Miguel is back into his work.

“Dude, you only ate like, one energy bar after going to the gym,”

“I’m fine,”

Another exasperated sigh, before his roommate goes back to whatever robotics he was working on. Miguel has been perfecting his latest assignment the whole week, going back and forth on his computer, writing down research papers and consulting with his professors. Meanwhile, the man that he shares his room with is tinkering with a recent robotic piece he’s been pouring his heart into.

It’s correct that they share most of their schedule together. Miguel would wake up before dawn, and so would he. They’d run a couple of laps around campus before hitting the gym just before it gets too crowded. He’d spot for Miguel while Miguel would comment on his form if it needs any improvement. Sometimes they’d share breakfast together, before they head for their different classes, though ever since Miguel has been engrossed in his recent paperwork, their time spent together has been blessed. It'd be a lie to say Miguel doesn't miss their shared time, but he supposes seeing him back in their room after a long day is enough. Though, it doesn't seem enough for his friend.

Unbeknownst to Miguel, his roommates have been supporting a devastating crush on him. Stolen glances, longing eyes whenever Miguel's back is turned towards him. Times when he’d stare a bit too long whenever Miguel was doing his bench presses, times when he’d stand close just to feel the comforting warmth beside him. He’d fuss over Miguel, bringing food or drinks, bringing things Miguel might've forgotten with his busy schedule. Sometimes, when Miguel worked too late and too much, he’d fall asleep on his desk, at which he’d bring his blanket to cover Miguel’s back. In the morning, he rolls his eyes and says something about Miguel getting a bad back, which Miguel would promptly ignore.

It’s currently Friday night. The man that's sitting on the opposite side of the room has seemingly lost interest in his robotics and decided to peer out of their bedroom window. Suddenly, Miguel is bombarded by a loud shout coming from outside of their room, and snaps quickly to the source. He sees his roommate has opened the bedroom window and is looking out into the campus’ courtyard.

“Yeah, I'll join you! Be right down!” He hollers, before he shuts and locks the window. Miguel turns, blinking away the slight dizziness he got.

“Who was that?”

“A friend, they're having a party at one of the frat houses, you wanna join?” He grins, pulling on his leather jacket and pocketing his belongings. Miguel has never been to a party and he's not about to start going, especially when he has a deadline to push. He shakes his head, always swiveling back his chair.

“No thanks,”

He hears his friend scoff. “Come on Miguel! You’ve been working on that thing for ages now, you deserve a break, and the deadline isn't for another month!”

“I’m not interested,” Miguel bites back, barely glancing at his pleas.

“Just this once, I promise it’ll be fun! I’ll be there and I can take care of-”

“I said I'm not interested.” He spits out, already hunching into the part he’s soldiering. He doesn't hear anything, not an answer or another push for him to join. The air has changed, something heavy hangs between them. The tension is palpable, but despite it all Miguel only hears the shuffling of his friend's boots.

“Sure, whatever,” His roommate fixes a stare at the back of Miguel's head, before he unlocks their door. “Y’know, one of these days that work of yours is going to destroy you if you're not careful,”

And with that, he leaves Miguel alone for the night.

—

“What the fuck!” Miguel jumps and manages to hold on to the side of the building. “Lyla searches for his weakness points!”

“Hah! You think this has a weakness, Miguel?!” The man shouts, a wide grin on his lips. “I’ve perfected these arms, they are practically indestructible!”

“SO this is how you greet your old roommate?”

“I’d prefer for us to meet for coffee, but after how you treated me, I think this…” He brings a menacing robotic arm towards him, as if to inspect it. “Is way better,”

The arm suddenly lunges towards Miguel which he narrowly avoids. He jumps and entwines two of the appendages together as he lands behind the man, at which he growls and breaks free of Miguel’s red webs. “I never treated you badly!”

“No, not really huh,” He smirks. “But you never noticed the shit I did for you anyways!”

He spears those sharp arms towards Miguel which he does a couple of doges before jumping down the rooftop they were currently fighting on.

“All of those morning coffees, late dinners, all for nothing! None! All because you were so fucking focused-” He sharply turns, grabbing Miguel’s wrist and stopping him from dropping a punch. He suddenly pulls Miguel towards him, burning anger behind those eyes. “On combining a damn spider's DNA with yourself!”

He throws the Spiderman across the street, breaking several walls until the momentum finally stops. Miguel groans, cracking his neck when Lyla suddenly pops up. “Boss, the control panel for those arms is on his back, if you could pull it apart from him, it’ll stop him from controlling it,”

“On it.” Miguel swiftly stands, running through the many rooms he passed before leaping into the air, catching the man off guard. He throws a punch that lands on his face, throwing him off balance and into the concrete street below. He grows, and fixes his jaw, before launching back to full force against Miguel.

“It was all fine until you went out with that fucking brunette!” He shouts, throwing debris towards Miguel which he weaves and dodges. “Did I ever mean anything to you?!”

He’s got Miguel pinned to the ground, and pushes all of the arms to stab at him, but instead misses and gets buried in the ground instead when Miguel swiftly pulls away with his web. He struggles to get the appendages out of the strong concrete, suddenly finding them stuck, an opportunity for Miguel to rip the control panel off. He swings above the man, landing directly behind him where he quickly digs his nails into the seams of the panel.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel manages before he pulls. An ear-splitting scream, before deathly silence. Miguel could only hear his heavy breath, before sparks of green ran through the man's body, and it jolted him. He shouts, before falling into the pavement. Miguel takes a beat to examine the control panel, before throwing it somewhere on the ground. He spots the bareback of his once roommate, a horrid sight of root-like marks growing around the man's back. Miguel furrows his brows, before he hears the faint police sirens, no doubt coming over to clean up the commotion.

Just as Miguel was about to make his leave, he heard the man cough, a horrid groan behind him. Miguel glances slightly, as he hears him begin to speak.

“I was right… Your work did destroy you.”

Requests are opened! Remember to reblog!

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x m!reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x ftm!reader #miguel o'hara x trans!reader

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magpie-to-the-morning · 1 year

Text

Corner Booth

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLIY)

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Tags: Sex worker/stripper/exotic dancer reader, inexperienced Din comes with his own warning, lap dance, flirting

Summary: Din gets more than he bargained for going to a strip joint for intel.

Author’s Note: I’ve been in a writing rut for awhile now and when I asked the lovely @acrossthesestars for a starter prompt for some context-less smut, she suggested “lap dance” and “immobilization”. That screamed Din to me so I happily settled in to write some filth.

…. And, naturally, turned it to tooth-rotting fluff almost immediately. Enjoy. 😘

“Normally this is where I’d ask if you come here often but, uh, I think I’d remember if you had.”

You offer him your brightest, most professional smile but the black void of his visor gives away nothing. It devours instead, pulling your gaze down into its depths even as the shining Beskar surrounding it reflects the candy-colored neon lights of the club.

“Not much of a talker are you, handsome?” You roll your hips again, savoring the blissful contradiction of cold steel beneath your bare thighs and the warm rasp of duraweave against your flimsy “uniform.”

This may be a job, but that doesn’t stop you enjoying it.

Your only answer is a grunt. Well, that, and a stirring heat between your bodies. Interesting. Twining your arms around the back of his helmet, and noting the way the Mandalorian’s body tenses for a moment when you do, you can’t help wondering what else this nearly silent customer enjoys.

“Not that I mind,” you purr, leaning in closer, your barely-covered breasts pressed against his armor. Your nipples pebble instantly at the chill sensation.Eager for warmth, you slip your arms beneath the edge of bounty hunter‘s cowl. The man radiates heat, making you relax against him further.

“Most people who come in here are *all* talk,” you continue, your hips moving in sinuous rhythms in time with the music. “Those are the ones who never seem to listen, too.” You jerk your chin towards the grabby Trandoshan who’d cornered you before the broad-shouldered bounty Mandalorian strode into the club, all cold steel and heavy tread. The other pleasure-seekers had taken one look at him and decided their drinks and their dates were far, far more interesting than the bounty hunter suddenly in their midst.

The man in question follows your gaze now, his own hands tightening almost possessively at your hips when he locks eyes with the Trandoshan across the bar, before releasing you with a quiet “Sorry.”

Intrigued, you replace his hands, running your own playfully over the well-worn leather. Even these are warm beneath your hand. It’s enough to make you wish you could sneak a peek beneath that visor, to see if he’s as overheated as he feels. It’s almost… sweet.

“You’re fine,” you assure him, trying once again to find his eyes beneath that flat black. “I chatter enough for two anyway, or so I’ve been told.”

You’re rewarded with a low, amused huff.

“I like it,” he admits, almost shyly.

A genuine smile tugs at your lips this time. Maker, who is this guy, and what is he doing in this dive?

The music changes, turns faster, more insistent, driving such ridiculous questions out of your mind. No good can come of them anyway, you remind yourself. You’ve sworn off dating clients completely. Too… messy. Too complicated. Better to do the job, get paid, and continue on your way.

Shaking out your hair, you resume the lap dance he’d paid for, trying not to think of the uncertain way he’d handed you the credits, or the way his fingers tightened around yours when you’d held out your hand to lead him to your favorite booth. It’s tucked away in the darkest corner of a club full of dark corners, the only one with anything close to privacy.

The only one with a window to the stars beyond.

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilts to the side when the silence stretches between you, though you can tell from the restless movement of his hips and the ragged cast to his voice that he’s appreciating your efforts.

“D-don’t stop,” he says, the words so strained you nearly lose them between the driving pulse of the music. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was right on the edge. But he’s no boyish virgin - there’s no way he’d be this desperate for you.

“Oh, don’t worry baby, you gave me enough for a long dance.”

“Not that,” he groans. “Don’t stop… talking.”

You’re so taken aback that you stop grinding against the growing bulge beneath you. You blink, eyebrows raised, caught between surprise and delight.

The Mandalorian stills beneath you, only the rapid rise and fall of his chest belying the sense of patient focus. You get the sense that he could sit this way for hours, waiting for his quarry. It must make him a fearsome hunter. And maybe, just maybe, the kind of man worth breaking a rule for.

“Mando,” you smile down at him. “If you really want to hear me talk, you should come back at closing time.”

#Din Djarin #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin x Fem!Reader #Din Djarin x F!Reader #Fic #My fic

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coffeeshades · 7 months

Text

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IV

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst (heavy on this i'm sorry in advance) cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hi everyone! yes yes i know i disappeared for like 5 months but let's pretend i didn't. i've seen all of your messages and comments and i'm overwhelmed with all the love you've shown to the previous parts. thank you so much to everyone who likes, reblogs and leaves a kind message, i see you and love u. here's a new lil chapter, i hope you enjoy it. happy reading!!

February 28th, 2019

Cort Theater, NY

The day was here. The day he had been eagerly waiting on for months. The anticipation had been building up, and now he was finally going to perform in front of a live audience for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The months of rehearsals and hard work had all led up to this moment, and he was ready to give it his all.

He was starring in the new Broadway production of “King Lear" as Edmond, one of the play's most complex and intriguing characters. The role had challenged him in ways he had never experienced before, pushing him to delve deep into the character's motivations and emotions. As he stepped onto the stage, the bright lights shining down on him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and a sense of purpose.

And just like that, three hours and twenty-five minutes later, the final curtain fell on the play. The audience erupted into thunderous applause, their standing ovation a testament to their incredible performance. Exhausted but exhilarated, he knew he had given everything he had to the role and left it all on the stage.

His mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The rush of adrenaline slowly subsided, and as much as he wanted to hear what everyone thought of his performance, there was only one person whose opinion mattered to him right now: yours.

The last time he saw you was on your last day in Chile, almost two months ago. He vividly remembered the bittersweet farewell outside his family's house—you getting into the car and him closing the door. A door that seemed to separate their worlds. Since then, they had kept in touch through messages and occasional video calls, but it wasn't the same. Of course it wasn't. It will never be.

The distance between them had only fueled his longing, making him yearn for your presence even more. Constantly trying to derail his one-track mind.

He knows you're here. He had invited his siblings and closest friends. However, he was unsure of your attendance until an hour before the show, when he received a text from Oscar:

"She's coming with me. Stop pacing and good luck."

He hadn't really discussed what happened back in Chile with Oscar or anyone, for that matter, but he could tell everyone knew something was off about how the two of you interacted. So when he got the message from Oscar, instead of freaking out about him potentially finding out about you two, he felt relieved.

It gave him comfort to know that Oscar knew him so well that he was aware of the fact that you were the cause of his two-hour pacing in his dressing room. It was also fucking stupid and laughable.

The energy backstage was electric as he walked through the bustling crowd of crew members and performers. He entered his dressing room, grabbing his phone and immediately seeing all the texts from friends and his siblings. He opened one from Javiera: "Felicidades, hermanito! Killed it. See you at The Terrace."

They had planned on getting together afterwards to celebrate. He replied with a grateful smile, saying he'd be there in a few and to get there without him. He quickly changed into a more casual outfit: dark jeans and a comfortable white t-shirt. Wanting to unwind after the intense performance, he made his way to the restaurant. It was only a few blocks away from the theater, so he decided to enjoy the pleasant evening weather and take a leisurely stroll.

Once he got there and stepped out of the elevator, Pedro watched you from across the room. A delicate hand rested on Oscar's shoulder as you chatted and laughed together. He felt a bubble of pride in himself swell; it warmed him to know that you were enjoying yourself and having a good time.

He felt like an intruder in your intimate moment, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. At least I don't have to miss her anymore because she's right there, he thought.

Pedro made his way across the room, trying to appear nonchalant as he approached the table.

"There he is! the man of the hour," Oscar said, a wide smile spreading across his face.

You turned. Eyes meeting, and it was like a car crash. A collision of emotions and memories flooding back all at once. The air between you crackled with unresolved tension, and Pedro's heart raced as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"You came," he said, his voice stern. Not reflecting at all the turmoil inside him. "Thank you."

"Well, you called," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as well. Deep down, though, your heart was pounding just as fast as Pedro's.

Everyone seemed to ignore the palpable tension in the room and how he was losing his mind over these unclear conversations between your glances, carrying on with their congratulatory words to Pedro as if nothing had happened. But for Pedro and you, time stood still.

People settled into an easy conversation, enjoying each other's company as the night went on. As the night went on, Pedro and you exchanged occasional glances, silently acknowledging the shared secret that lingered. He wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs: We slept together! We slept together, and I loved it! He wanted every single person in New York to hear it. To feel the exhilaration and passion that consumed him.

However, to say it was to make it real, and Pedro wasn't quite ready to face the consequences of that reality just yet. He knew his place in her life. He knew it was better this way. However, the ever-present question of 'Is it better to have something and lose it than never have it at all?' haunted his mind.

The laughter and chatter around you provided a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within both of you. After a couple drinks, the atmosphere became more relaxed, and Pedro found himself engaging in lighthearted conversations with the people around him.

"Ah, man. I need a cigarrette," he said to Oscar, reaching into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.

"Go, go. I'll keep everyone entertained," Oscar replied with a smile, gesturing towards the lively crowd. Pedro nodded gratefully and stepped outside, the cool night air providing a brief respite from the chaos of his thoughts. As he lit his cigarette and took a long drag, he couldn't help but wonder if the temporary escape it offered was worth the potential consequences.

"I thought you quit," you remarked, slowly making your way to him, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. Pedro turned and exhaled a cloud of smoke, a wistful expression crossing his face. "I did, but you know me. I have a hard time letting go of old habits," he admitted, flicking the ash off his cigarette.

"Care to share?" you asked, gesturing towards the pack of cigarettes in his hand. Pedro hesitated for a moment.

"No."

"No?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't want to be the reason you get lung cancer."

You chuckled. "Ok, so you can do it, but I can't. Got it."

"I'm old; there's no use," he said with a shrug. "However, you have a whole life ahead of you."

"You make it sound like you're on a deathbed," you teased, taking a playful jab at Pedro's dramatic statement. He smirked and took a long drag from his cigarette before responding. "Maybe I am, in a way. But hey, we all gotta go someday, right?"

"That's...dark," you sighed. "mind if we changed the subject?"

"Sure, what do you want to talk about?" Pedro asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "Anything to distract me from my impending doom," he added with a smirk.

A laugh escaped your lips as you thought of a lighter topic. "How about we discuss your play?" Pedro's eyes lit up at the suggestion, momentarily forgetting about his earlier morbid thoughts.

"How are you feeling about your performance?"

Pedro looked at you for a little too long before finally responding, "It's funny I'm thinking about death because I've never felt more alive than on that stage."

"I could tell. I thought you were great, P."

He shook his head modestly. "Thanks, but I still feel like there's room for improvement. I want to push myself even further in the next shows."

"I get that."

Pedro watched you stare at the ground. His thoughts began to conspire against him, and as he was about to speak, you also looked up and opened your mouth at the same time. Words rushed out in unison.

You both paused, realizing you had interrupted each other. Pedro chuckled tentatively and motioned for you to go ahead. "Sorry, you first," he said with a polite smile.

You bit your lip, seemingly trying to gather your thoughts. "It's nothing. I just wanted to tell you I'll be in Europe for awhile. I got the Nolan movie."

"Woah, another one?"

"Yup. The role isn't as big as in interstellar, but I love working with him so much I couldn't pass up the opportunity." Pedro nodded, a mix of excitement and disappointment flickering across his face. "That's amazing; congratulations. I'm sure you'll do great, as always," he said sincerely. "I'll definitely miss having you around, though."

"Well, it's not like it'll be much different than now," you replied. "I haven't seen you since...since you know," your expression turned somber, cheeks flushed.

You were right. He was so busy with the play and his new role in the second installment of Wonder Woman that he barely had any time. He even had to cut back on his time on set for The Mandalorian reshoots this month and a few scenes for a second season that haven't even been announced.

"Yeah, I know."

"Should we talk about it?"

"I mean, there's nothing to talk about, really," Pedro said with a shrug, not daring to look you in the eye. "We slept together, and we both agreed that was it. No need to complicate things further." he tried to maintain a casual tone, but his voice wavered slightly.

Pedro wanted to scream. The nicotine clouding his lungs was the only thing keeping him from losing control. It seemed like all he was left with was a painful reminder of what could have been. He looked at you as he took another puff of smoke. Your eyes clearly searching for a trace of emotion in his face, but finding none.

A droplet of rain landed on Pedro's cheek as he inhaled deeply, feeling the coolness against his skin. It was as if the universe was reflecting his inner turmoil, adding to the weight of his unspoken words. He watched as you looked up at the darkening sky, the raindrops falling steadily on your hair.

The sound of thunder echoed in the distance, mirroring the storm brewing within him. He dropped the cigarrette from his hand, its ember extinguished by the rain.

"Isn't that the point of love, though?" you finally responded, your voice raspy and drunk with bitterness and resignation. "To complicate things, to make us question everything, to drive us to the brink of madness. Maybe it's not meant to be simple, Pedro."

His body tensed up, and your words clearly struck a nerve. The weight of your statement hung heavy in the air, leaving an uncomfortable silence between you both. It was no secret that his perspective on love had been tainted by past experiences, leaving him guarded and unwilling to let go of his pain.

"You're right. Which is why I would rather stay away from it. I've seen firsthand the havoc it can wreak on people's lives," Pedro admitted, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. He knows he's hurting you; he can see it by the way your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"So that's it, then?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Is this how it is always going to be?"

But he can't risk it. "I thought we were on the same page with this."

He sees how your jaw tightens at his statement. He knows he's hurting you. He's twisting the knife even deeper. He can't seem to stop just because he believes it's for the better.

Please know it's for the better.

"Yeah, I guess it's better this way," you spat back, your voice filled with anger. Of course, you could tell exactly how he was feeling.

"Guys! What the fuck are you doing outside? It's fucking pouring!" A friend shouts from the doorway. "Get inside!"

You both stood there staring at each other, momentarily forgetting the rain pouring down around you.

“Yeah. What the fuck are we doing?" you say, not even trying to mask the anger in your voice.

He wants to reach out and kiss you. Kiss you so hard that his lips would bruise. Kiss you so hard that your pain will fade away. But that action would go against everything he had just said.

So he just watches you turn around and leave.

What the fuck is he doing?

3 months later

After weeks of shooting in the United Kingdom and the Amalfi Coast, you and the crew finally had a couple of days off. Aaron, John, and Rob had the brilliant idea to take a quick trip to Monaco.

“It’s a Grand Prix weekend,” Aaron said excitedly. “Maybe if we make a few calls, we could still snag some passes.”

“Doesn’t that start this week?” Rob inquired, taking a sip of his drink. Ever since your arrival in Italy, the four of you finally got the chance to eat dinner together at a nice restaurant.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron waved his hands in the air, “but if we leave tomorrow, there’s plenty of time to get there and enjoy ourselves.”

You were so focused on your meal that you missed the sound of your name coming from Aaron’s mouth. “Hellooo?” he continued, and you looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you friends with Lewis Hamilton?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, we see each other sometimes at events and stuff. He’s really nice,” you tell him, still feeling a bit distracted.

“Could you maybe give him a call and get us those passes?” he asks, pouting like a puppy. John laughs at him, hitting him lightly on the arm.

“Sure, I can try,” you reply, feeling a bit hesitant. You rarely ask for special favors and don't want to come across as entitled, even more so when you haven't spoken to Lewis in so long.

“Yes!” Aaron celebrates by raising his fists. "Um, one more thing,"

“Mate, you’re pushing it now,” Rob remarks with a playful tone. You can tell he's enjoying the banter between you and Aaron.

“Go on,” you gesture at him to continue, a smile on your face.

“Could we also use your PP?”

“Use her what now?” John exclaims. Laughter erupts from Rob's mouth, making you and John join in.

“Her private plane, mate!” Aaron says, embarrassed.

“Yes, Aaron,” you get out, still laughing. “I’ll let you use my PP.”

"Thank you!"

•••

The flight to Monaco was smooth and quick. You spent most of it trying to focus on a script for a project after this one while the boys all slept. After your dinner last night, you made two calls: one to Lewis to ask about the passes and one to your publicist to let her know about your last-minute adventure.

Lewis was very nice as usual and said that, of course, he can get you the passes, while your agent said attending an F1 weekend would be good publicity and good fun. A win-win situation, she called it. She also said that since you were going to attend the race, you might as well attend all the events that come with it, which meant she had to fly in to assist you.

By the time the plane finally landed and you made it to the hotel, you were worn out. You spent the rest of the afternoon and night sleeping, without a care in the world. The next day, soft knocks on the door woke you up.

"It's me," Taylor's voice called out.

You groggily got out of bed and opened the door to find her standing there with her laptop, a cup of coffee, and a huge smile on her face. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

Although you hadn't passed a mirror on your way to answer the door, you had the feeling that you didn't look visually appealing at the moment. Your body ached, like you wrestled with a wild animal all night and lost.

"Did you just get here?" you ask her, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. She smiles and shakes her head. "I got here late last night, but you weren't answering the phone, so I called Renata instead, and she said you were sleeping. And like the great person I am, I let you rest." Renata is your PA/publicist, a great friend, and one of the two constants in your life, along with Taylor.

"Wow, so kind of you," you say sarcastically, but can't help the small smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. "Come in."

As Taylor enters, you shut the door behind her. She scans the space in fascination. There are floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall that run the length of the room and the wall to your left, which is behind the dining room table. A broad view of the harbor can be seen between the sheer, white, fluttering lengths of the floating curtains.

"Gorgeous suite," she says, sitting on the plush sofa across the room.

"Ren always chooses the best rooms, so yes," you tell her, sinking once again into your warm bed.

"You're still tired? You've slept for like 16 hours already," she chuckles, pouring herself a glass of water from the crystal pitcher on the side table. "I know, but I guess the jetlag is hitting me harder than I thought," you reply with a yawn, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath of the fragrant flowers on the nightstand.

"You didn't come to Monaco to sleep, did you?" Taylor chuckles, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Yes?"

"No! We have a full itinerary planned for today, starting with breakfast at Café de Paris across the street with the boys. And then we're off to the Hotel de Paris for a F1 brunch event. There will be lots of food, drinks, and hot guys. Specifically, hot F1 drivers," you groan-laugh inwardly at the thought of dragging yourself out of bed so early for the sake of hot guys. "You know that's the last thing on my mind, right?"

"Well, not on mine!" she replies with a wink. "But seriously, it's not just about the eye candy. The event is also for a good cause, raising funds for a local charity. And it's also a great place to network and meet new people—you know the drill." You nod in agreement, feeling more motivated to attend, knowing that it's for a meaningful purpose.

With a determined sigh, you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. "Okay, I'll shower."

"Let me call Renata and tell her to prep the car and get the glam team in here."

"Thank you," you tell her, disappearing into the bathroom.

•••

Two hours later, you find yourself entering the venue of a charity event with your very impatient and rather enthusiastic co-star and best friend, Aaron. The venue is buzzing with excitement as you take in the elegant decorations and the well-dressed attendees. Since it's Monaco in May, you're sporting a light blue strapless top and white linen pants that complement the warm weather and the sophisticated atmosphere of the event.

"I can't believe Rob and John sat this one out because they were 'too tired', Aaron remarks, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well, they don't have the energy of a 5-year-old, unlike you," you tease, playfully nudging him. "But hey, more champagne for us," you add with a mischievous grin as you grab two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. "Cheers."

The bubbles tickle your nose as you take a sip, savoring the crisp and refreshing taste.

Camera flashes illuminate the room as people mingle and engage in lively conversations. You're stopped every 5 minutes by someone wanting to take a picture with you. You oblige every time with a smile, posing for each photo and exchanging pleasantries. After all, that's why you're here for.

Everything was going smoothly until someone bumped into you, causing you to spill champagne all over your clothes. The cold liquid seeps mostly through the fabric of your top, leaving a sticky sensation against your skin.

"Oh, my bad," you hear a thick Australian accent apologize. You turn to see a rather tall, tan-skinned, handsome man with a sheepish grin on his face. Did you say how handsome he was? And what the fuck was he smiling for?

Once he realizes who you are, his eyes widen in surprise and anguish. People start noticing the commotion and turn their attention towards the two of you. The man quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the crowd, his grip firm but gentle.

"Hey! Where are you taking me!" you protest, trying to free your arm from his grasp. His grip tightens slightly, but he maintains a calm demeanor as he leads you towards a quieter corner. As you reach a bathroom, he finally releases his hold on you and takes a step back, his expression filled with concern.

"Relax, I'm not kidnapping you."

The chaos around you fades into the background as he shuts the door and starts grabbing paper towels. "Shit, here," he says, handing you one. "Sorry for ruining your clothes."

You start wiping the spilled drink off your clothes, a little annoyed at the inconvenience. You can feel his gaze burning into you without looking.

"Do ya want me to give you mine?" he offers, gesturing towards his own shirt. "It might be a bit big on you, but at least it's dry." he pauses, waiting for your response.

You stare at him. "And what? you're going to walk around shirtless?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. He chuckles. "Yeah, I have a banging body, so I'll just be doing everybody here a favor here, really," he replies with a smirk.

You roll your eyes at his cocky remark. "I think I'll manage without your shirt, thanks," you say sarcastically. "But I appreciate the offer."

He laughs as he observes you. "Okay, then let me find another way to make it up to you."

"There's no need."

"Do you have plans tonight?"

"I'm fine."

"Does 7 p.m. sound good to you?"

"Listen—"

"Where are you staying?"

"I don't even know you."

"It's Daniel."

"Okay, Daniel. I don't know you, so no."

"But you could," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. "And who knows, it could be the start of something new."

"Are you quoting High School Musical to me?"

"Hey, it's a classic. And it was right there."

You chuckle, unable to resist his charm. Something lights up in his eyes.

"Listen, I won't push you anymore. It's up to you. Can't blame me for trying, though." you raise an eyebrow, considering his words.

"I'm going to go now," you tell him, pointing at the door.

He nods understandingly. "See ya later."

•••

After about 30 more minutes of indulging everyone in conversation and enjoying the party, Lewis Hamilton finds you. "Hi sweetie, there you are," he greets you, ever so polite. "I heard chatter that you were here. I thought I wouldn't see you until tomorrow's practice sessions."

"Oh yeah, but you know duty calls," you say with a smile as you lean in to hug him. "It's so nice to see you. Thanks again for the passes."

"Oh, it's nothing. You would've gotten them without me, but I'm glad you called me instead. How have you been enjoying Monaco so far?"

"Good, good—" you begin, but before you can finish your sentence, a burst of laughter you recognize from earlier erupts from across the room. "Actually, do you happen to know him?" you ask Lewis, gesturing with your head towards the source of laughter. Daniel is joyfully engaged in conversation with a group of people. Lewis follows your gaze and chuckles, "Ah, that's Daniel Ricciardo. He's a fellow Formula 1 driver and quite the character, to be honest. He's a cool dude."

"Huh," is all you manage to say as you watch Daniel animatedly tell a story, his infectious laughter filling the room.

"What are we looking at?" Renata and Aaron find you and join the conversation; their curiosity is piqued.

"Nothing," you quickly respond. Renata immediately caught on to your evasive response and followed your gaze. "Oh, Daniel?" she exclaims, voice hushed and her eyes glinting with excitement.

"Wait, you know who he is?"

"I did my homework on the plane. He drives for Renault, and he looks great doing it."

Lewis and Aaron chuckle at Renata's enthusiasm, sharing in her excitement. "I think Renata will be watching a few races from now on," Lewis remarks, causing everyone to laugh. Renata shrugs, a proud smile on her face. "Trust me, I will, but not for him. Have you heard of Charles Leclerc?"

You're still staring at Daniel, dumbfounded. Wheels are turning in your mind.

Aaron's voice interrupts your thoughts. "So...why are we still staring at him?"

"I'm going on a date with him tonight."

Your own declaration surprises you.

"Wait, you are?" both of your friends say in unison, their eyes widening with curiosity.

"Yes," you say, setting down your drink. "You guys ready to go now?"

They nodded, not wanting to press further but clearly intrigued by this, and you said your goodbyes to Lewis, promising to see him on Friday at the track. As you made your way to the exit, you grabbed Daniel by the arm and pulled him aside.

"Hotel Hermitage, 7 p.m., Room 303. Don't be late," you whispered, voice calm and steady. Daniel's mouth curled into a smile, but he maintained his composure and nodded, a feeling of excitement in his gaze. With a final pat on his shoulder, you rejoined your friends and headed out of the venue, eager for the evening ahead.

•••

You don't know what the hell you were thinking when you said yes. You could feel your anxiety building as the time approached—face flushed, stomach twisting in knots. James and Liz, your hair and makeup team, paused, laying out brushes and curling wands. "Everything okay, love?" James asked. "You want us out?"

"No, keep going. You're almost done, anyway. I'm just internally freaking out a little."

"You're great and look beautiful," Liz replied. "There's nothing to worry about."

You give her a tight smile and try to believe her words, but the nagging doubts continue to linger in the back of your mind. As the final touches are applied, you take a deep breath and say your goodbyes to them.

"Good luck and have fun!" James says as Liz winks at you and closes the door. You chuckle at their enthusiasm. You walk back into the bedroom and pick up the black cocktail dress hanging on the closet door. The soft fabric feels comforting against your fingertips as you slip it on. The dress hugs your curves perfectly, accentuating your best features. You grab your clutch and check yourself in the mirror one last time.

A knock on the door startles you. "Coming!"

Breathe, you remind yourself.

"Wow," Daniel says with a warm smile. "You look absolutely stunning. Are you ready to go?"

You're sure your face must look like a tomato as you thank Daniel for the compliment.

"Yes, let's."

As you reach the entrance of the hotel, Daniel hands the valet a ticket, and he opens the door of his car for you. "My lady," he says with a playful bow. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you step into the very flashy luxury car. For an F1 driver, you didn't expect anything less. The soft leather seats hug your body as you settle in, and the sleek interior design adds to the overall opulence of the vehicle. Daniel starts the engine, and the car glides smoothly onto the road.

"Where are you taking me?"

He looks at you with a mischevious grin plastered on his face. "My friend Max is throwing a yatch party tonight, and I thought it would be the perfect way to spend the night," he says, revving the engine slightly. "But I intend to dine and wine you before we head there."

"Oh," you reply nonchalantly, "Nice."

"Still playing hard to get?"

You shrug and give him a grin.

"That's alright. I enjoy a good challenge," he replies, his eyes sparkling. "But I have a feeling that by the end of the week, you won't be able to resist my charm." He winks at you.

"You're quite confident, aren't you?" you say, raising an eyebrow. "But don't underestimate my ability to resist." You smirk back at him, ready to prove him wrong.

The car pulls up to the entrance of the restaurant, and you both step out onto the bustling street. You make your way inside. "Oh, I've been here before," you say lowly, feeling a little satisfied that it is something you've experienced already, so it's harder for him to impress you.

You couldn't have been more wrong, though.

The hostess greets you with a warm smile and leads you to the main dining area. As you follow her, you can't help but notice it's....empty. Not a single table is occupied. The dimly lit room feels intimate and cozy, with soft music playing in the background and red roses adorning each table.

The hostess gestures towards a table in the middle of the room. "The waiter will be with you shortly," she says before leaving you alone.

You turn around, facing Daniel. "Did you rent out the entire restaurant for us?" you ask, slightly surprised. Daniel chuckles and shakes his head. "No, I just made a reservation for a quiet evening," he replies.

"You're an awful liar."

"I just saw how hectic everything was for you this morning, with all the pictures and people clamoring for your attention. I wanted to give you a break from that and create a peaceful vibe for us to enjoy tonight," Daniel explains, his eyes filled with sincerity.

You smile. "That's very thoughtful. Thank you."

"I have my moments."

The night continues with the two of you enjoying the delicious food and engaging in fun and light conversation. The peaceful atmosphere allows you both to relax and truly connect with each other.

Just what you needed but didn't realize until now.

"You're literally always smiling," you tell him. In the very short time you've known Daniel, there's something constant about him: his distinctive smile. Daniel chuckles and replies, "It's amazing what surgery can do. Formula 1 pays really well, and I was able to put a lot of that money into permanent smile surgery."

You burst out laughing. "Well, they did a great job," you say, still chuckling.

•••

You glided arm in arm onto the yatch, dry martinis in hand and a revolving stream of waitstaff to refill your drinks as soon as they emptied. You feel more relaxed and comfortable now. Maybe it was the three glasses of wine you had at dinner and the drink that's currently in your hand, or maybe it was the contagious laughter and carefree attitude of your date.

Cote d'Azur was a smooth wash of precious stones at this time of year. The ocean's deep, smoky blue stretched out like a shiny carpet. Loud music blasted from the speakers, and the upper deck was transformed into a vibrant dance floor with people spinning and swaying to the beat.

You wished you could rest your head on Daniel's shoulder without looking like you were already drunk.

He excitedly introduced you to his friends, who instantly made you feel like part of their tight-knit circle. As the night progressed, you found yourself effortlessly blending in.

"So how did this insufferable clown manage to take you out on a date?" Max asked, his voice loud over the booming music.

You shared a brief glance with Daniel. "He spilled champagne all over me."

"And then she couldn't help but fall for my charming personality and good looks," Daniel interjected with a playful grin.

"Yes, that's exactly what happened."

Daniel puts a hand on your lower back, and you mindlessly lean into his touch. "You wanna go outside for a bit?"

The need for some fresh air and a break from the crowded room causes you to hum in agreement. You leaned over and observed the white waves as they cut through the water as you came across a section of railing near the stern of the yatch.

The sound of the waves crashing against the yacht provided a soothing soundtrack to your conversation. As you leaned against the railing, Daniel's playful banter continued.

"Are you having fun?"

"Very much so," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"So I'm winning sooner than I thought I would."

"Winning what exactly, Daniel?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. "The game of enjoying this beautiful yacht ride? Then yes, I suppose you are."

He laughed, but it wasn't his usual boisterous laugh. It was a softer, more genuine sound that made your heart flutter.

He came closer. "Would you like me to whisper it in your ear?"

As he leaned in, you could feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you. His eyes were locked with yours.

"You're falling for me," he whispered, his voice husky. The words sent a shiver down your spine, confirming what you had been trying to deny for the past hour or so. Not because you didn't find him charming or attractive, but because you felt like you were betraying the person who broke your heart months ago.

How can someone break your heart if it wasn't theirs to begin with?

You push back those thoughts.

The playful banter that played out all night faded into the background as a new energy filled the air, sparking a connection between the two of you that was impossible to ignore.

You give in.

"You think?"

He nods, his eyes dark. Your hands were encircling his neck, one at the nape of his neck and the other against the side, where you could feel his heart pounding beneath the pads of your fingers. Your fingers scraped at bristled hairs as you held onto his curls, and you enjoyed the feel of them rubbing against the pads of your fingers. You were tightly gripping him in your hands, not allowing even a millimeter to pass.

Daniel couldn’t decide where to touch you. You huffed a breath against his mouth as the lightest of touches - the barest featherweight of fingertips, like your skin was made of silk, traced along the curve of your jawline. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, making you crave more of his touch. His fingers continued their exploration, trailing down the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake.

He had pressed you against the railing at your back with no warning, and you felt the firm pressure of it. And now you arose from it, attempting to cling to every bone-hard surface of Daniel's body. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within you that consumed all rational thought.

"People are watching," you whispered breathlessly, breaking the kiss reluctantly. Daniel's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of desire and mischief. He smirked, his hand sliding down your waist possessively.

"Let them."

You were so fucked.

•••

You’d barely been able to breathe these past couple of days with events and rendezvous with Daniel consuming your every waking moments. It was fast paced and you found yourself completely swept up in the whirlwind of emotions. He was showing you his world and you were willingly diving headfirst into it.

It was Saturday morning, which meant is qualifying day and despite all of the media commitments and preparation that Daniel had to do, he’d promised breakfast as a way to make up for it. So here you were at a cafe only a short walk from the circuit, chewing your way through a delicious stack of pancakes while Daniel sipped on his coffee.

It felt oddly comforting to be sitting there with him. He was a stranger to you just a few days ago, but now he feels like a familiar presence. The conversations flowed effortlessly between you; he was funny, attentive, and attentive, but most importantly, he wasn't afraid of showing you off and telling you how much he liked you.

From the moment you crossed paths, he showed interest in you and made an effort. You haven't questioned whether he genuinely liked you or not. It was nice to be with someone who didn't play games or hide their feelings.

Your mind has also found a new way to torture you: whenever you felt happy with Daniel, a nagging voice in the back of your head would remind you of him.

Him. Him. Him.

You couldn't even say or think of his name. It was too much.

And yes, you were content, but you couldn't help but think about it.

The first time you tasted Daniel's lips, you were let down it wasn't the same. That feeling of disappointment lingered, but as days passed, it dissipated more and more. Maybe one day it'll be gone completely, you thought.

"So let me get this straight," you say, putting your fork and knife down on the plate. "You were on your way to winning in 2016, but a pit stop error cost you the race?"

Daniel nods. "It haunted me for so long. I couldn't shake off the frustration."

You grab your coffee and lean back on the chair, listening intently. "It was very dark. I should've been happy because I was on the podium in Monaco, and that's huge, but I was miserable. The whole time, all I wanted to do was smash everything to pieces and scream, which is something you do not want to do in front of Monaco royalty, by the way."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by Daniel's emotional upheaval. This was clearly a pivotal moment for him. "So, what finally helped you move past that?" you ask, curious to hear his response.

"Well," Daniel begins, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I won last year."

"Yeah, that'll do it."

You both laugh, and he places a hand on your knee beneath the table. "But honestly," he continues, his voice softening. "It wasn't just about winning. It was about proving to myself that I could overcome my own limitations and achieve greatness."

"So...winning basically," you respond, teasingly.

"See, I wanted to be humble about it, but let's be real, winning felt pretty damn good," Daniel admits with a sheepish grin. "I love winning."

You snort in amusement, "Well, I guess a little bit of bragging rights never hurt anyone."

You two carry on with your meals. His left hand still on your knee, and the air filled with contentment.

•••

While Daniel returned from the qualifying weigh-in, you waited at the back of the garage. You had gradually gotten to know the Renault team over the previous two days. Everyone, from the mechanics to the media team, has been friendly and welcoming to you. You're still trying to decide whether it's because of Daniel, your status, or that they were just nice. Pretty sure it was all three.

You were aware that it would be best for you to stay out of the way as the team worked and the broadcasting teams were filming in and around the pit lane, but you were unable to hide in Daniel's prep room. At the back of the garage, you found a calm area where you could watch the busy activity without being a nuisance.

You were aware that, although you might have been in the VIP sections, you couldn't be that far away from him. You were able to feel more connected to Daniel and the team's spirit by spending time in the garage.

The phone had been ringing nonstop all day in the back pocket of your pants; the screen frequently flashed with new notifications from your social media accounts or texts or calls from friends and family. You were aware that the countless pictures of Daniel and you parading through Monaco were the root of the problem.

It was truly a sight to behold to be watching him race around the track and walk around the paddock.

He was in his element.

"You look cute, baby," he says, referring to the oversized headseat on your head. His face flushed from the heat, and yours from the compliment. His hair was messy and a little damp from sweat, evidence of the intense racing. He looked perfect.

Fuck.

He leaned in for a kiss, his lips brushing against yours, electricity rushing through you.

Fuck.

"I think you're winning," you say, your eyes fixed on him.

"Aw, that's sweet of you, baby, but I didn't qualify that great," he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"That's not what I meant."

His face is puzzled for a moment before realization dawns on him. He smirks, his signature smile spreading across his face. "Oh," he says, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

"Yeah," you say, barely above a whisper, your eyes never leaving his.

"I told you so," he replies, his voice filled with confidence and pride.

"Shut up," you say playfully before kissing him again.

Fuck.

You were falling for him.

a/n: oh oh pedro...someone's stealing your girl. are you guys team pedro or team daniel?

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it! thank you for reading :)

#happy october 1st 🎃#pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff

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itsjusthockey · 1 year

Text

When The Party’s Over - Jack Hughes

I have a problem with writing angst and this is much longer than expected. I'm not sorry.

Big announcement coming soon. Get excited.

I'm needy, so the more love I receive, the more I write. So please follow, comment, repost, and talk to me. I really do cherish this blog and want to be more active

Anyway so yeah, come talk to me. Please, I want to know what you guys think.

Should there be a part two? I don't know

wc: 3,423 (credit to gif maker)(don’t steal my work)

Content warning: Swearing and light NSFW? I don’t know it’s not super explicit but it’s all my first time writing it and I’m not sure

Part 2

Don't you know I'm no good for you?

I've learned to lose you, can't afford to

Jack may not be much of a coffee guy, but he is nothing but a weak man when it comes to his favorite bagel place. It’s a regular part of his routine, a constant thing. He goes before practice, grabs his usual order, and then he’s gone.

Usually, he keeps his head down, Jersey isn’t the biggest place, and he likes to avoid attention on his mornings off. Yet, he lifts his head when his name is called and moves to thank the lady handing him his food and walk out when he quickly scans the room, his eyes stopping when he lands on a familiar face.

You’re sitting at a small table close to the edge of the room, surrounded by notebooks, highlighters, and staring hard at your computer. He takes a mental note of your concentrated state, knowing you’re probably in the zone, but he elects to ignore that fact as he makes his way toward your table.

You jump slightly when he takes a seat across from you, only to relax, just barely, when you see it’s him.

“Jesus, Jack,” You breathe out, “Scared the hell out of me.”

Jack can’t help but let a smirk take over his features, and his heart twinges a bit when you let a breathtaking smile take over your own face.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He teases. “What’re you doing here?”

You look at him briefly, then gesture vaguely to your coffee and your wide range of studying supplies. “Homework, or at least trying to.”

“Ah, I see.” He smiles again, relishing in the company of your presence; it’s been over a week since he last saw you.

“Anyway,” you scoot your chair closer to the table, “Come here often? Their bagels are great.”

Jack lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, almost every morning. It’s pretty close to my place and the rink.”

Once he finishes, a look of recognition crosses your features. “I knew this area seemed decently familiar.”

Jack nods, and he watches as you scan over the coffee shop, then finally rest your eyes back on him. The eye contact doesn’t last long, though, when your phone begins to buzz on the table, and you sneak a quick glance down. Jack can’t help but notice the slight smile after you read the message, and his heart falls ever so slightly.

You snap your eyes to meet his and place your phone face down on the table, leaning back in your chair. “Not that I don’t love this reunion in the daylight, but don’t you have somewhere to be?”

The question is fair, he does, in fact, have someplace to be, but if he’s honest with himself, the last thing he wants to do is remove himself from this chair across from you.

“Yeah, but being a little late never hurt anyone.”

You snort at his statement, rolling your eyes at him.

“Go to practice, Jack.”

He knows you’re right, he doesn’t want to leave, but with playoffs around the corner, he shouldn’t be here, no matter how much he wants to stay.

“You’re right,” As he gets up, he notices your almost empty coffee cup. “Can I at least get you a refill before I leave?”

You glance at your coffee, contemplate his offer, and shake your head. “I’m okay, Jack. Thanks anyway.”

He nods, grabs his bagel, and turns to leave, but not before he pauses and turns around again. “You busy tonight?”

Your eyes dart back up again, but before you answer, your phone buzzes again, and you glance down. You take a few seconds to read the message before you answer him.

“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know.”

You give him a warm smile, but there is also a hint of awkwardness behind it. He chooses to ignore the possibility of rejection and nods your way one last time, and makes his way out of the shop.

As he exits, he glances back to your table one last time, already seeing you consumed back into your schoolwork, forgetting he was ever there.

Jack knows he’s not the smartest guy in the world, but he’s smart enough to know when he’s fucked. The idea was not to fall in love, which is easier said than done. He couldn’t help it; it came out of nowhere. You’ve been sleeping together for a while, longer than both of you could care to admit. He knows that the arrangement is simple, and it works. You’re not his, he’s not yours.

But fuck, does he want you to be.

Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin’

But nothin' ever stops you leavin'

Jack gently traces his fingers along your skin, relishing in the feel of your curves beneath his touch. He watches in awe of how your body responds to every move he makes, and he can tell you’re close. Your fingers dig hard into his back, your head falls back ever so slightly, and he slows down his movements to the pace he knows drives you crazy.

To get you there, he concentrates. He knows your body like the back of his hand, but he still tries to watch your face for cues, even though you're not meeting his stare. He didn’t notice it right away when you started sleeping together, but now it’s hard to ignore. No matter what he’s doing, you always look away.

He desperately wants to see you, stare deep into your eyes, and show you, somehow, that when you’re beneath him, it's the closest thing to heaven on earth.

Tonight is different for him, and he needs you to look at him, to see him.

He pulls your face gently to look at him, and reaches down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He makes sure he’s got your attention. Your pupils are blown with bliss, and the soft look goes give him makes him feel like he’s the only person in the world. Before he can stop himself, he presses his forehead to yours and lets himself fall deep into the endless pools of your eyes.

It’s intimate, you both know that, but for a moment, just that moment, you allow yourself to get lost in each other as you meet your highs.

Jack rides it out as long as possible, loving you in every way he knows how and making sure you feel just as good as him. When you both finally come down, your heavy mixed breathing filling the room, reality sinks in.

You’re the first to break, as always, gently pushing him off you. Jack watches silently as you get off the bed, grabbing various scattered clothing items and pulling them on. He watches with a mixture of longing and disdain. He knows you’re going to leave, you always do, but he can’t help but hope this time you’ll stay.

“Stop being a creep.” A playful grin plays on your face as you catch him staring, finishing pulling on your shirt.

He ignores your joke, “Where are you going?”

You shrug your shoulders way too casually.

“Not sure, maybe out?”

His heart sinks, and he doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that you’re killing him.

“You could stay? It’s pretty late.” He glances at the clock next to his bed.

The dry laugh you bark out makes him cringe.

“And risk running into the next girl? I’m okay, Jack; I’ll see you later.”

With that and a quick check of yourself, you leave. He’s left with his lingering thoughts and regrets. He knows you’re bad for each other, and he knows that this arrangement will eventually kill him, but he can’t seem to get away.

Jack hears the outside door slam, and he’s truly alone. He decides that his best option is to sleep you off, try to forget the way you felt in his arms and the way you make his heart feel like it’s about to burst. He falls back into his bed, staring at the ceiling. The sheets around him smell like the familiar scent of you, and he hates how it’s comforting. He feels himself falling deeper and deeper into himself, and you didn’t even know he was drowning.

He knows it’s best if he just tries to sleep, flush out any thoughts of you. He doesn’t need to think about where you are or who you’re with because you aren’t his, even though he’d do anything to make you love him as much as he loves you.

He thinks about the last comment you made. About another girl. He knows his reputation and the fact that many people think he’s a player. He’s not, though, and he wishes you knew there wasn’t another girl; it’s only you.

Don't you know too much already?

I'll only hurt you if you let me

Jack's eyes are fixed hard on your back, watching almost every move you make across the dimly lit bar. He can tell you’re relaxed, and your head is thrown back, laughing along with your friends. Though he isn’t close enough to hear the laugh that makes him happy and destroys him, his heart clenches anyway. You look like you’re having the best time in the world, and he can’t help but wonder if he’s crossed your mind, even once.

He is nursing a drink that is too watered down for his taste, and his focus is pulled back to you every time he manages to integrate himself back into his teammate's conversation. While he catches a few snippets here and there, he has no idea what the hell they’ve been talking about for the last twenty minutes, and he hopes they don’t notice that his attention has been elsewhere.

He isn’t that lucky, though, because Nico elbows him slightly in the ribs, leaning toward him.

“You okay, Jacky?”

He nods, feeling horrible. “Yeah, sorry.”

He knows he needs to focus, pay attention to the guys, and have a few drinks after a good week. So he tries, his absolute hardest, to keep his eyes off of you.

He lasts about five seconds, and when he looks back toward your table, you’re gone.

He quickly searches the room and sees you making your way toward the bar. It’s honestly embarrassing how fast he moves, and before he can stop himself, he removes himself from his table and makes a beeline toward you.

He reaches you just as you put in your order, throwing the bartender a thousand-watt smile and leaning ever so slightly over the counter. When you finally notice someone beside you and turn to face him, It’s the brief look of unrecognition that practically kills him.

“Jack?” You recover quickly, slipping on a bright smile. “What’re you doing here?”

He stares hard for a second, unsure if you’re messing with him. He knows he’s told you this is his team's favorite bar, but when you’re still waiting for his answer, he clears his throat.

“Uh, it’s the bar closest to the rink,” He hates the sound of his voice. “I’m here with the guys.”

Your eyes flash behind him to his teammates, and a sly smirk takes over your features.

“Well, don’t they look like fun?”

He lets out a light laugh, “They are.”

The bartender interrupts the conversation, setting down your various drinks. You go to hand him your card, but Jack beats you to it.

“It’s on me.” He hands over his Amex before you can protest, and you shoot him a look he can’t decipher.

“You don’t have to buy my drinks, Jack.”

He shrugs his shoulders as if it’s nothing.

You thank him and the bartender as you pick up the drinks.

“Need help?” Jack asks, watching you struggle to get the last glass.

You finally grasp the cup and flash him another smile. “I got it. Thanks again, Jack.”

As quickly as you came, you were gone, heading back to your table where your friend celebrate your arrival as if you’ve been away for years. Jack watches as you all cheers your drinks, and his heart warms a bit when you catch his eye one more time, winking and raising your glass to him ever so slightly.

He nods and heads back to his own table, determined that at the end of the night, he will get to you somehow. He only wants to have you within reach, talking with his teammates or dragging him out to the dance floor. Above all else, he wants you in his arm. So, he texts you, hoping you’ll invite him over and the night will officially begin, and he can be happy. He waits and continues to glance your way.

You never respond.

Call me friend but keep me closer

And I'll call you when the party's over

When Jack's phone buzzes loudly on his nightstand the first time, he ignores it. It’s late, and he has a big game tomorrow. When it buzzes again and continues, signaling an incoming call, he finally shifts his weight and grabs it.

It’s been a week since he saw you at the bar and even longer since you’d texted. You’ve also never called, which causes his heart to beat a little faster than it should. He presses answer.

“Hello?” He asks, hearing some brief static on the other end.

“Jack?”

Your voice sounds small, and he immediately sits up straighter in bed, suddenly wide awake.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

He hears your sigh softly on the other end.

“Honestly,” You hiccup, “No. I’m wasted, and my best friend has my apartment keys, and they all don’t want to leave, but I feel sick, and my phone is almost dead, and I didn’t know who else to call in Jersey, and I-“

You continue rambling, and Jack can hear you softly sniffling in between words, and It takes him less than ten seconds to throw on a shirt, pants, and make a beeline toward his Range Rover keys.

“(Y/N)” He finally interrupts you, “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

He doesn’t hear you for a moment, and he thinks for a second that you hung up.

“No.” You suddenly say sternly, as if you just realized you called him. “Fuck, I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have called you.”

As you finish, Jack can sense the panic starting to rise in your voice, and he knows that you’re falling deeper into your own head, and he has to pull you out before you disappear.

“Hey, don’t say that. But please, send me your location.”

“No.” You repeat, “You have a game tomorrow. You should be asleep.”

Jack's heart skips a beat when you mention his game. He didn’t know you followed his schedule. His mind begins to run a million places, different places, until he grounds himself and remembers the problem at hand.

“(Y/N),” He says it as hard as he can to force you into telling him where you are. “I’m not gonna be able to sleep until I know you’re home safe. Send me your location.”

It’s silent on the other end of the line, and after a moment, his phone lights up with your pinned location.

“Do not move. I’m about fifteen minutes away. Okay?”

“Okay.” You whisper back to him.

What should have been fifteen minutes turns into less than ten as Jack ignores every driver's safety training he’s ever had. He would do anything to be able to teleport to you, but instead, he goes as fast as he can.

When he pulls up to the crowded bar and doesn’t see you outside, he’s instantly filled with worry. His pulse continues to build until he sees you a small distance away from the entrance, sitting on the curb with your head in your hands.

As soon as he parks, rather badly, he bolts out of the car toward you. When he gets within a few feet of your form, your head snaps up. He watches as a mix of emotions crosses your face, and his heart finally does crumple when he sees a tear slide down your cheeks. It takes everything in him not to wipe it away as he kneels in front of you.

“Can you stand?” He asks softly.

You slowly nod, and he takes both your hands, helping you get to your feet. He watches as you wobble a bit too far to the left, and he catches you in his arms.

The second you’re in his hold, you melt into his touch, and he hates the way that he his entire body finally relaxes, knowing you are safe and in his arms.

Jack continues to steady you, feeling the weight of your body against his. He can smell the alcohol on your breath, and you’re way too cold for his liking after sitting outside. He grabs your shoes and phone and begins walking you toward his car. Once you’re there, he gets you into the vehicle, buckles you in, and hands you a bottle of water he’d thankfully grabbed from the fridge.

“There we go,” he says, making sure you’re set.

Your eyes follow him as he climbs into the driver's seat, and once he turns the car on, you break the silence.

“Thank you, Jack.” You whisper, your head falling a bit toward the window.

Jack focuses on the road as he makes his way back toward his apartment. He knows you’re in no state to be brought home alone, and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to you.

“Jack?” You speak again, and he hums. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He means it. “I’ll always be here when you need me.”

He turns to face you briefly, and he has never seen you look so sad, and it crushes him all over again. He wants to talk to you, figure out what’s going wrong in that beautiful mind of yours, and do anything to fix it. But he knows that this conversation can be had at a later date. Instead, he turns on a radio, and when he steals another glance at your figure, you are asleep.

Jack drives slowly and carefully to his apartment, knowing he has the most precious cargo to him sitting in the passenger seat. When he finally pulls into the parking ramp and turns off the car, you are still dead to the world.

He quickly unbuckles and moves to get you, gently trying to shake you awake.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he whispers, “we’re here.”

You let out a soft groan and rub your eyes. “Can’t I just stay here? It’s so comfy.”

You snuggle deeper into the seat, and Jack thinks he will die. You look so goddamn adorable, and it’s driving him insane that he can’t kiss you.

“Sorry baby,” the nickname slips before he can stop it. “I gotta get you inside.”

He smiles at your pouty face, and he unbuckles your seatbelt. He lifts you out of the car and sets you down for a second, grabbing your things and handing you his keys before scooping you back into his arms.

You softly hum in contentment as your head lolls against his chest. Jack thinks you’ve dozed off again until you open your eyes slightly.

“You're pretty strong," you slur. “Clearly, hockey is good for a person.”

Jack lets out a deep chuckle as you snuggle deeper into his hold, and after a few minutes of struggle to get through doorways without hitting you on something and teamwork to open his door, you’re safe in his apartment.

Twenty minutes later, he’s helped you take off your makeup because he knows your skin care is essential, he’s gotten you water and Advil, and you're wrapped in his clothes and lying beneath his duvet.

As he watches you breathe, gathering a few things to sleep on the couch, he can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him. He wants nothing more than to climb next to you, but he’ll resist.

He stares a bit longer when suddenly your eyes peel open.

“You have a staring problem, Jack.”

Your tone is teasing, but his entire body grows hot, and all he wants is to get the hell out of his bedroom. He tries to make his escape, but not before you speak again, and it stops him dead in his tracks.

“You know, I broke my own heart loving you first.”

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