#I am trying so hard to catch back up with. everything

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations: Part Two

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's confession leaves you reeling. It changes everything and you don't know how to even begin to navigate the emotions and hardships that come with it.

Warnings: Angst. Language.

You blinked several times and your mouth fell open to speak, but zero words came. Your jaw remained slack while a frown slowly formed as your thoughts ricocheted inside your head. You stared at Jessie, vaguely processing the deep look of concern on her face.

"I-I had no idea," she began to speak with a new urgency spurred on by your silence. She shifted closer to you and held out her hands in her lap in emphasis. "I just," she shook her head as she tried to find her words. “I arrived for a game and she was there. I-"

“Wait. Who,” you finally spoke as your frown deepened while your mind struggled to comprehend what was being said.

“Um, well, Sara,” Jessie said as you saw her trying to compose herself again. “My um, ex? I guess? I don’t know what to call her, really. But, um," she swallowed hard, gaze fixed on the floor as she spoke, "she told me we needed to talk." She glanced at you, eyes pleading. "I-I didn't know what to do with that information. It seemed so weird - I hadn't seen or talked to her in years and all of a sudden she just showed up wanting to talk? And you know how things are at the doors, I just rush through, so I just kinda nodded, but moved past. I didn't even exchange information with her."

She swallowed audibly again and began to wring her hands together. Her voice quivered.

"I didn't think much of it. I thought maybe she wanted to catch up and I dismissed it because, I don't know - she and I were connected so briefly," she said as her voice rose in pitch and she rubbed her face roughly.

Her shoulders visibly rose and fell as she took a second. She looked at you more fully and her eyes glistened with mounting tears.

"She showed up at the next game - same thing. But this time she held out her phone to me." Her pace slowed and her eyes drifted briefly to the floor. "She had a picture up."

Your heart pounded so heavily in your chest that you felt for sure she could hear it. You watched wordlessly, jaw now clenched tightly as she retrieved her phone. She eventually turned it over to you.

Somehow you managed to lift your hand, a tremble in the action, as you took the phone. Your breath held stagnant in your throat as you looked down to see an image of a little girl with dark, wispy curls looking up at the camera with a familiar smile. Her cheeks were tinged pink with freckles adorning them and her nose.

The synapses in your brain fired rapidly as pieces fell into place. You tried to swallow, but nearly choked at the effort. You stared at the photo so long that her screen locked. Your stunned expression reflected in the darkened screen for several seconds before you looked up at her.

Jessie stared at you, eyes wide and searching. She looked terrified.

"What am I looking at?" You eventually asked, voice wavering with how dry and tight your throat was. Jessie inched closer to you, knees now touching yours. She gently retrieved her phone from your limp grasp.

"That's-that's Zoie," she announced softly, her voice nearly a whisper. "My daughter."

It was her second time confessing it, but this time it hit you hard and square in the chest. The feelings that had been simmering and forming just beneath the surface came rushing up. You shook your head several times and let out a weak laugh.

"I-I don't understand. What are you talking about?" You shifted your gaze up to the ceiling and waved your hands about in confusion and desperation. "How do you even know? That could be anyone's kid!"

The weight in your chest undermined your words. The image you just saw on her phone was near impossible to deny despite every fibre of your being wishing for this to be some horrible misunderstanding.

Jessie didn't respond immediately and you snapped your head back down to see her eyeing you remorsefully.

"I know," she said quietly, casting her gaze down as she opened her phone to look at the photo again. "It's a lot to absorb. I-I didn't believe it at first either."

You realized that your jaw was clenched so tightly that your teeth were starting to ache. Your fingers dug painfully into the tops of your thighs. Tears began to burn behind your eyes and you stared hard at Jessie. She didn't cower, but her shoulders were hunched as she stared absently at the photo.

"She's mine, Y/N," she said softly, looking up to you once more. "Sara and I-"

The mention of this other woman brought out a visceral reaction in you.

"Wait - hold up. Who the hell is Sara again?" You interjected. "I don't remember you ever mentioning her." Jessie sighed wearily, picking at the corners of her fingers.

"She," Jessie started, waving her hand around aimlessly, "was, kind of just some girl. She was on the track team and we met during my last couple of months at UCLA. We'd really only been on a few dates before I got signed to Chelsea and left for London. I stopped hearing from her not long after I left. I didn't really know why. And I didn't really question it either - we weren't committed, I was busy - new life, new career. I didn't give it more thought." She exhaled somberly. "Now I know why."

Your pulse was still pounding loudly in your head as her words settled in.

"Just 'some girl'?" You asked as your raised your eyebrows. "Some girl - who happened to have your kid," you said with surprising steadiness as you stared her down.

She winced, recoiling slightly and burying her face in her hands before lowering them.

"I know this is a lot to dump on you. I-I'm so sorry, babe," she said. She huffed irritably. "This is why I didn't say anything for so long. I had to wrap my head around things and I just couldn't even begin to fathom what to say to you."

You sniffled and sat up straighter. "So what. You fuck this girl. She gets knocked up. But...you're in London when she finds out? And what - she just doesn't tell you? She just carries on - lives her life, has your kid. And all of a sudden decides to confront you?" You asked bewildered.

"I know," she said sullenly as she closed her eyes. "She chose not to tell me because I was so far away and I had no intention of coming back to LA. And, I don't know, she said she just didn't see how it would work and didn't want me to abandon this great opportunity." She sighed. "But when I transferred to Portland, she thought it was time. Zoie's starting kindergarten in September - other kids have their parents and, Sara just thought it wasn't fair to Zoie..."

Your throat was dry all over again. As she talked it dawned on you that she'd been having all of these conversations and developments with this woman. Her ex. The mother of her child.

"So all of this hiding around, secret calls and texts, late nights - all of this bullshit - you've been sneaking around talking with her?" Saliva pooled in your mouth as you thought about it.

Jessie fidgeted. "Yes. But - it was all about Zoie. Trying to figure things out. There was absolutely nothing else going on. I swear," she said adamantly as she grasped your hands. You might've pulled away if your limbs didn't feel numb. "She knows I'm in love with you. So in love with you. And that we're engaged."

You stared vacantly at the floor as you gave a slow shake of your head. None of this was making sense. This just couldn't be real.

"I don't - I don't even know what to think," you said. "What does all of this mean? W-what now?" You asked as you tried to keep your voice even and calm.

Jessie held your hand tightly as she retracted the other to rub her mouth in thought. Her voice cracked as she started to speak.

"She's staying with her aunt up here and is looking for a place to live. Zoie's enrolled in a school up here now. And," Jessie released your hand to clasp hers together, shoulders rising with a breath, "I...I'm going to be a part of Zoie's life. She's my daughter. And I'm going to help raise her." She took a deep breath. "And I pray that you want to do that with me."

You opened your mouth to speak, mind still reeling. Your jaw flexed a couple of times as you tried to find your words and Jessie forged on in your silence.

"I love you so much," Jessie said, voice breaking once more. "And I know you didn't sign up for this. I don't want to lose you, but, I can't walk away from this. Now that I know, I can't just pretend or try to make this all go away," she said with increasing breaths. Her eyes filled with tears, "And it's been killing me to lie to you. You're the love of my life, my best friend, and to keep this from you the past few weeks has been torture. You're the one who I talk to when things are hard, when I need advice, and to know that this could hurt you," her voice grew taut as tears began to fall, "and that it would change everything..." She took a shuddering breath. "All I ever wanted was to make you feel loved and safe. And now..."

Her shoulders shook as she began to cry fully. Despite the shock and concoction of still-unnamed emotions coursing through your body, you still found yourself reaching out to comfort her. It was automatic. Natural.

She cried harder as you placed your arm around her and she curled into you, clutching you desperately to her in a way she never had before. You blinked, nonplussed, but embraced her nonetheless.

Your mind flashed back to a moment all those weeks ago. Suddenly, that moment took on a whole new context.

You slowly blinked, waking as you heard rustling at the front door. You yawned and stretched out in bed.

"Jess?" You called, voice slightly hoarse with sleep. You rubbed your face as you reached over to check the time on your phone.

1:45am

"What the fuck," you whispered as you stared at the time with a wince. You sat up and looked out into the darkened apartment.

You'd been at her game that night and was planning to wait for her, but she'd texted you right before warm-ups telling you that coach wanted to speak with her after the game. She told you she loved you and to not to wait up. She'd meet you at home.

"You can turn on a light, Jess - it's fine," you called. She didn't respond, but soon you heard her slowly pad into the room. You frowned as you made out her silhouette. "Are you okay? Why are you home so late?"

"Uh, coach had us do a debrief and study plays. And then Janine and I just stayed after and talked," she said blandly and with a heavy breath. She wordlessly got changed and climbed into bed, curling into herself at the far edge. "I'm sorry to wake you," she said softly into her pillow.

You gave a small chuckle. "It's fine, babe. Just glad everything was okay," you said as you laid down behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She stiffened, but you chose not to chalk it up to anything. "You must be exhausted," you added.

"Yeah," she said quietly. A second passed and she added. "I love you, you know."

You chuckled once more and kissed the back of her shoulder. "I know."

You fell asleep again, but awoke sometime later to hear retching coming from the bathroom. You sat up and tossed the covers off, walking towards the sliver of light coming from underneath the bathroom door in the dark. You pushed open the door to see Jessie bent over the toilet, one hand bracing herself against it and the other holding back her hair as she heaved though nothing came out.

"Oh my gosh," you whispered as you rushed over and dropped down next to her, only now noticing the tears streaming down her face. You held back her hair for her and rubbed her back soothingly. She sobbed and coughed. "Jessie, oh my God. What's going on?"

She swallowed audibly as she tried to compose herself. She wiped hurriedly at her face.

"I'm just not feeling well," she said quickly, giving you a cursory glance as she tried to catch her breath.

"Is that all? You're crying," you said as you kissed the side of her head and handed her some toilet paper. She dabbed at her face as she shook her head.

"I'm fine. It's just from the dry heaving. My stomach's not feeling well," she insisted. She stared blankly forward before looking over at you, staring at you even. "I love you," she said again.

"I know, baby. I love you, too," you said with a soft smile as you kissed her head once more. She was pale and shaking. "I'll go get you some water," you said. You were about to rise when she grabbed your hands urgently, tugging you down.

"No," she said firmly, before clearing her throat and quieting. "I just - I don't want you to go. Can we just stay here for a sec?"

You frowned. She really must not be feeling well. Jessie could be very affectionate, but she wasn't clingy. You nodded readily, scooching closer to her and caressing her cheek.

"Of course, baby."

Your mind continued to reel as Jessie cried in your arms. She was distraught. Nearly hyperventilating. You'd never seen her like this. She was always so calm and even when she was upset, it was a quiet upset and often tightly controlled. Nothing like the woman who was sobbing in your embrace as you blankly stared at the wall.

During that time, something came over you. The initial anger and bewilderment took a backseat as the woman you loved clung to you for comfort.

When she eventually calmed, the weeks of emotional turmoil and lack of sleep caught up to her. When she forced herself to sit up, her eyes were puffy, bloodshot and they were heavy with exhaustion.

You tried to ask her a few questions and she did her best to respond, but she was visibly struggling in the haze of her breakdown. She looked like a shell of herself.

You found yourself speaking.

"We should go to bed."

It took a moment for your statement to register and she gave you the faintest look of question. You cleared your throat but held her gaze.

"You're exhausted. And, I don't even know what I'm thinking or feeling, so...," you trailed off, your gaze following suit. She started to protest, but you cut her off with quiet resolve. "Jess."

She stared at you, eyes darting across your face in apprehension.

"I'm terrified you're going to leave me," she said, her voice thin as her eyes welled up again.

Your heart raced, but you didn't waver. "I'm here," you told her evenly. "We have a lot more to talk about. But, maybe not tonight."

It felt like an out of body experience as you two retreated to the bedroom and got into bed. With the lights off, you lay stiffly on your back staring up at the ceiling. Out of the corner of your eye you could see her on her side watching you but too afraid to close the space between you.

Again, this understanding that she needed you somehow subdued all of your other impulses. You lifted your arm and wordlessly beckoned her. She hesitated for a second before rushing in and wrapping herself around you, her head on your shoulder. You held her in much the way she often held you.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice tight with emotion. "I promise I'll do everything I can to make this work. Whatever time you need - whatever you need - it's yours. I know we'll adjust," she expressed. "And Zoie - she's so sweet. And funny. And bright. You're going to love her, Y/N. And she's going to love you so much. I know it."

A lump immediately formed in your throat and your grip on her tightened. You hoped it just felt like a reassuring squeeze.

"Let's get some sleep," you managed to say.

You stared up at the darkened ceiling still in a state of delayed shock. It was only when Jessie's breathing gradually deepened and slowed as she fell asleep that you allowed silent tears to start flowing.

Your jaw ached as you ground your teeth together and you fretted as your chest hitched with a shaky breath; Jessie didn't stir.

You never would've anticipated this in a hundred years. You always felt Jessie would be a great, dedicated parent. You'd talked about it together at length. You'd imagined it many times.

You just always pictured that it would be your child - the one you and her had together. Not one she had with someone else.

This changed the entire landscape of your relationship. Your future together. Everything you envisioned was now wildly and forever changed.

It was no longer just you two. Jessie had a family now. But not with you.

Right or wrong, you wished she'd been cheating. Then you could've been righteously furious, upset, betrayed. And - in theory - it could be something you two could work to put in the past; to forgive, forget and move on. But this?

There was nothing temporary about this. It was permanent. Painfully permanent. She was a parent and forever would be. And this woman - someone who'd been a blip in a minor, negligible story of Jessie's past - was actually tied to her for the rest of her life and in so much more significant a way than you.

Suddenly, your world went from being focused and centered on you two and the future you'd build together, to now you being a bystander - an extra - in your own life.

Your throat seized up and you choked back a sob.

What was the rule book for this? You felt like your emotions and your wants needed to take a backseat. Much like this evening. Now you, your feelings, your needs, paled in comparison.

Jessie had a new role to step into. Something far more important than your girlfriend or fiancée. And that little girl's well-being and right to have a loving parent in her life trumped your hurt. Who were you to hold Jessie back from being an important and fulsome part of her child's life?

Her child. Her and some other woman's child.

It hurt to even think it.

Your mind spiraled throughout the night and your stomach twisted in knots over and over. While Jessie somehow slept straight through the night - maybe finally at peace to some degree after her confession - you could barely sleep a wink.

You were already awake by the time your morning alarm pierced your ears. Jessie jolted awake, but you remained stoic. The alarm continued to blare and you stared absently at the wall ignoring it. The bed shifted as Jessie reached over you to turn it off.

You laid still and unblinking even as you felt Jessie observing you as she sat back.

"Hi," she greeted softly, tentatively.

The impulse to reply was a mere flicker and the muscles in your throat twitched briefly before giving up.

She laid a hand gently on your arm, but didn't speak, surely uncertain of what to say. You heard her swallow as she absently caressed your arm.

"Are you going to work?" She asked quietly. You gave a feeble shake of your head. "Mm," she voiced and you saw a glimpse of her chin dropping towards her chest. "I understand. I missed practice the next day. And more, really, since I've been all over the place with various meetings, and yeah," she finished even quieter, belatedly realizing she'd said too much.

She never told you she missed practice. As far as you knew, she was at the facility training. As far as you knew, she was always where she said she was. Clearly that wasn't true.

You wordlessly lifted your inert form from the bed and willed your limbs to carry you to the bathroom. She remained still for a moment, but soon heard her rush after you. You shut the door firmly behind you and locked it with a deafening click before she reached it.

"I can stay home with you," she offered through the door. "I want to. I know we have a lot to talk about. And I want to be here for you."

"Go to practice, Jess," you told her dully before a flicker of anger rushed over you. "Or wherever the fuck you want to go."

You leaned against the wall, catching a glimpse of your reflection and immediately looking away, deeply unhappy with what you saw in the mirror.

"Babe, please," she implored. "Can we talk? I don't want to leave you."

Your anger flared once more, but you worked to temper it, your fingers digging painfully into your arms as you hugged yourself tightly. You sniffled.

"Have a good day, Jess. I'll see you later," you said with finality through the door as you opened the shower curtains and turned on the water.

"Babe," you heard her call through the door. Several moments passed before you her muffled voice filtered through one more time. "I'll miss you today. Please text or call me if you need anything. I'll be here in a flash."

You got undressed and stood outside the shower. The seconds passed as you remained there. The tension in your body continued to mount and you had red, angry divots in your skin from where your nails dug in. You waited. You wanted her to leave, just being around her hurt, but her actually leaving felt like some kind of unsettling confirmation.

Your stomach sank as heard nothing further from her and you stepped into the shower and cranked the heat.

It only took seconds for you to double over as tears came once more, except this time the scalding hot water washed them away.

You audibly sobbed, comforted to know that the sound of the shower would muffle your cries in case Jessie was listening in. The water burned, pellets bouncing off of your skin like sharp pinpricks, but it felt satisfying and good. It distracted you from everything going on inside of you right now.

You looked down and realized you still had your engagement ring on. You hadn't taken it off last night. A strangled noise escaped your mouth and you envisioned ripping off the ring, drawing back the curtains and throwing the ring across the room. The fingers of your opposite hand gripped the ring tightly, ready to pull, but eventually fell to your side.

She hadn't betrayed you. She'd given this ring to you, this promise, in good faith. She still loved you. She still wanted you. She didn't know this was coming.

Somehow it still hurt and you cried harder.

When you eventually exited the shower, your skin battered and abused, you got changed and collapsed onto the couch. You spent the better part of the day trying to distract yourself in front of the TV, but even in your catatonic state, you couldn't truly settle.

Jessie texted you a few times throughout the day saying how much she loved you, asking if there was anything she could do, that she missed you.

You never responded.

She came home early that day with your favourite take-out in hand and looking oh so sweet and hopeful as she offered it to you. You mustered up a flat 'thank you', but could manage to only eat a few forkfuls. Suddenly, Jessie's recent lack of appetite all made sense.

You talked further. You learned that her family knew, Sinc and Janine knew as well. It felt humiliating that you were so far down the list, though some deep-seated part of you understood her logic - that there was so much more to lose in telling you.

You learned she was already into conversations with lawyers about custody, child support, the list went on. At some point, her voice just became an echo in your head, your mind far too overwhelmed to properly process everything.

"I should stop talking," she eventually said gently as she watched you while you stared absently at the floor.

You sighed heavily and rubbed your eyes before dropping your hands into your lap. You sat motionless for a second before saying, "I don't even know, Jess. I have no idea what to say or do."

You heard her exhale. "I know, baby. I'm sorry." You didn't respond, but she leaned in and gave you a soft, tentative kiss on your temple. You still didn't react and she withdrew with another soft sigh, her hand lingering on your leg before pulling back altogether.

"I can sleep on the couch tonight," she offered.

This drew you out of your passiveness. You shot her a glare as your body tensed with irritation. Her brow furrowed in confusion and hurt at your visible scolding.

"What?" She asked, her own upset and frustration starting to show. "I-I don't know what you want or need. And I wish I knew. I wish you'd tell me, because all I want to do is to fix things and I don't know how right now," she beseeched.

You turned on her. "It's been one fucking day, Jessie. One day! You've had fucking weeks to process all of this and you got to control how you were going to handle it, when you were going to tell me, how - all of it. I have zero control," you seethed. "Not only do I have to wrap my head around you having a kid and how that changes everything for us, but you've also been lying to me and I still don't know everything. I don't know what to think or feel. So I'm sorry that you feel uncomfortable, but I need more than one fucking day to adjust."

Your outburst silenced her and she fidgeted slightly under your steely gaze.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just...," she reset, looking at you now, "I just want to do whatever I can to make this as painless as possible."

You bit back a bitter laugh. You knew she meant well, but 'painless' was an impossibility.

"I don't know if you want me to go or to stay," she added vulnerably.

You took a shaky breath, feeling sorry for her again. "I know," you said and rubbed your face. You exhaled quietly. "I don't want you to go."

"Then I'm not going anywhere."

A/N: Tag request - @valuyhh

[revelboo]

Would Thundercracker's human friend from Better Open the Door ever be able to convince TC to let them go home? (Their actual home lmao)

Or would he just plain refuse to see reason forever?

Like, he seems reasonable enough, if a bit... Clingy. And lonely. And sad.

I mean, I'd gladly be his friend, and talk about movies with him. But being kept in his room like a glorified pet is a bit much.

He would when the guilt kicks in hard enough, wanting to prove he cares and listens, even if he hates it. That said, he’s absolutely going to spend every free minute he has stalking you from above in his alt mode to keep you safe.

Better Open The Door Pt 15

Thundercracker x Reader

• Drowsing sprawled on him, it’s strange to feel so comfortable. One of his hands on the small of your back and the other on your butt. Resting your chin on him you study that handsome, alien face that’s become so familiar to you. Knowing you’re falling for him despite still being unhappy with him and you’re tempted to ruin it all. Trying to gather up the nerve to ask again, because if he really cares about you, he has to understand he has to let you go eventually.

• Optics brightening when he feels you move on him, he tucks his chin to see you. And you look so lovely sprawled on him, servos flexing on you when you yawn. “Sleep okay?” He asks and you lay your cheek back down against him. This moment. He wants to keep it forever. The way you look waking up in his arms, hair messy and eyes sleepy. “I’m probably not a very comfortable bed, am I?”

• “You’re warm.” Painfully aware of your own nakedness when the servos of one hand slides up your spine and his other hand gently flexes on your butt. And there’s his spike hardening against your hip. “Already? It’s hard to have a conversation when you do that,” you protest. And he smiles crookedly at you, expression almost boyish and not at all ashamed.

• “You have that effect on me,” he admits, cupping your chin and tipping it up. Venting when you lean up on him, mouth brushing his in a much too brief kiss. “Not so fast.” Servos threading through your hair to cup the back of your head, he tugs you back to him, mouth lazily exploring yours.

• Laughing as you break away and his servos lazily comb through your hair, you push up to straddle him and his servos skim up your body and then back down to rest on your hips. Remembering his words from the night before. That he’d said he loved you when he barely knows you. Even if the way he looks up at you is almost worshipful. “Can we talk?” Does he even really understand what love is or is he just fascinated with those love stories he watches?

• Servos wandering to cup soft skin, he rumbles at you. Do you think you really need to ask? That there’s anything he wouldn’t do for you? “Of course.” Servos stroking over you, he wonders if he can bond you. What it would be like to feel you tangled in his spark, touching him intimately. Why are you frowning at him? “Is something wrong?”

• “No, it’s just- It’s nothing,” you say, one of your hands covering his as it wanders and squeezes. And he’s frowning at you now, reaching up to tap a servo against your bottom lip. Waiting expectantly and you cringe. “You know you can’t just keep me here forever. Right? I have family and they must be worried.”

• Expression closing off, he catches your wrist when you start to pull away. Upset with him. Hasn’t he taken care of you? Protected you? “You’re not a prisoner,” he says, voice flat. Empty as his spark constricts. Was it only fragging to you? Nothing more? “I just want you to be happy. Safe.” And if you don’t want him, he’ll let you go. He’ll watch over you even if you don’t want him. Set you free and protect you from a distance as it kills him. You’re everything to him. “Is that what you want? To leave?” If so, he’ll stay as close as he can, let you have your freedom while you can, because as soon as the war starts up again, he’ll bring you back home to him no matter what you want. Can’t lose you.

Previous

Probably a good idea to add a warning to the first chapters of it and TFA Blitzwing’s fic

[janeyseymour]

Overheated

Summary: sometimes you faint. a certain someone is always there to catch you.

WC: ~2.3k

“Melissa, I’m fine,” you grumble as you roll out of bed that day. “Just PMS.”

“And you know how that shit knocks you out,” your wife mutters, although she does allow you to get up. She knows you’ve already used your sick days earlier in the year when you caught the flu.

“Well, it can’t today,” you grunt and groan as you change into your work clothes. “I can’t afford to not get paid, and I don’t want Mr. J as my sub again.”

“I told you, we can survive without one day of your pay if you really feel as shitty as I think you do,” Melissa tells you as she snakes her arms around your waist and presses a kiss to your temple.

You turn slightly in her arms to kiss her softly. “I know, but I really don’t need Mr. J teaching my kids that the moon landing was fake.”

“You know my thoughts on that conspiracy theory,” the redhead chuckles softly as she lets you go. When you grimace in pain, she mumbles to herself, “Can’t forget the heating pad and Midol today.”

“And Excedrin,” you whine.

“Hun, if your head is pounding too,” Melissa looks to you with sympathy.

You stand strong though. “I’m going. I’ll just teach with the lights off and from my desk today.”

“Stubborn as a Schemmenti,” your wife rolls her eyes. “I swear.”

“I am a Schemmenti now,” you quip with a smirk before you feel a shoot pain that causes you to wince.

“And I am so thankful for that,” Melissa promises you as she kisses your head again. With that, the two of you head down the steps for breakfast.

Your breakfast is, while painful, a wonderfully quiet and warm haze. Your wife all but forces you to sit at the table while she prepares the coffee and meal, along with handing you the hot water bottle for you to hold to your abdomen.

As you leave for work, you would venture to say that you feel slightly better than you did when you first woke up. Still, you know you probably shouldn’t push yourself too hard. You vow to yourself (and your fiercely protective spouse) that you’ll do everything you can to teach from your chair today.

For whatever reason, your students are completely out of hand today in every single way. From the second they step into your classroom, you can tell it’s going to be a terrible day- a day where no matter how much you want to resign yourself to sitting in your chair, you simply can’t. You find yourself hovering over your students no matter what their assignment is, pacing the aisles that you’ve created in your classroom. It’s terrible- completely and utterly horrid. You can’t sit with your heating pad, you didn’t even bring a hot water bottle, your head has started to pound again with the class’s volume. It’s absurd.

When lunch time comes around for your students, you practically drag them down- hopeful for a full lunch period of peace and quiet in your classroom; you’ve already decided that you aren’t making it to the staff lounge today. Instead you’ll take your wife’s teasing at the fact that you are so unwell that you couldn’t even fathom coming to have lunch with her.

But of course, because as the universe decides, you don’t get to treat yourself to a quiet lunch. No, instead, you’re running around like an idiot trying to make sure that you’re students all have lunch, and when you think you’ll be able to go for the last ten minutes to eat your lunch in silence, you’re pulled into an issue surrounding your student who hasn’t had lunch money for the past two weeks (a problem unknown to you).

You go in circles with Shanae for a few minutes before you finally roll your eyes and fork over the money in order to get him a lunch and placate the irritable lunch lady.

“Coulda done that in the first place,” she grumbles as she snatches the money from your hand and begins to count it.

At this point, you only have about five minutes left of your lunch time. There’s no use in going to back to your classroom- not when you would just have to turn right back around. So instead, you sit in the hallway for the last few minutes before leading them back down to your classroom.

You think to yourself that you’ll just eat while your kids have their special, only to realize that you indeed do not have a special. You lost the only time to yourself today. You sigh as you instruct your students to get out a book for five minutes while you collect yourself again.

Hastily, you reach for your phone, hoping to convince your wife to bring you your meal from the staffroom. Upon the device lighting up, you see quite a few concerned messages from Melissa.

You coming down for lunch?

Hun?

I’m coming to your room.

Did you leave early?

And then a few minutes later, the last text comes in. Saw you in the cafeteria. Love you.

Sorry, you respond. Had an issue with Taijon’s lunch and left my phone in the classroom. Do you think you have a few minutes to bring me my lunch?

I can’t, your wife texts. I don’t have prep today- with the gym teacher out. I’m sorry hun. Are you okay? I can have Barb head down during her prep?

No, no, don’t bother her. I’ll be fine.

Are you fine?

I will be, you send before setting your phone down and starting class again. 

It turns out, as luck would have it, that you are indeed not fine. Despite the Diet Coke that you put into your purse this morning for an extra jolt of caffeine, your head is still pounding, you’re absolutely exhausted, and your cramps are only getting worse. Whether they’re getting worse because your period is incoming or if it’s because you haven’t eaten anything other than the few bites of breakfast you could manage because of your nausea, who can say. 

Your wife sees how pale and slightly green you look while you’re dismissing your students. She knows that tonight is going to be an early night, one with a heating pad pressed against your abdomen, and in turn, hers because you’ll be laying on top of her.

“How’re you feeling?” she still asks you as she makes her way over.

“Fine,” you grumble. “Just want to get home.”

“As soon as all of the kids are gone, we can sneak out. Yeah?” You can only nod.

It’s a few minutes later that all of your kids have left the school grounds, and you sigh in slight discomfort as you make your way back into the school. You’re starting to feel warmer and warmer, and the redhead has an arm around your waist the entire walk down to your classroom, where she gathers your things for you and slings them over her shoulder. And then the two of you are making your way down to her classroom. And while you really did think you were fine- that you just had to make it home before collapsing onto the couch and staying there until it was time to retire for bed- but it turns out you aren’t. You start to stumble just slightly as a wave of dizziness hits you to accompany the hot flash you seem to be in the middle of. 

“Hun?” Melissa’s eyes quickly dart to you as she feels just the slightest shift in weight.

You’re able to catch yourself on her doorframe. “I’m good. Just a little-”

And then you go down. Melissa’s one arm isn’t strong enough to hold you up as you faint in her arm. To her credit though, your wife does try to grab you with her other hand. Unfortunately, she’s not quick enough, and her engagement ring manages to catch on the skin of your cheek as she flounders to reach for you and cuts you.

“Fuck!” your wife yells out loud enough to attract the attention of the teachers who have also come inside. Barbara is the first one to run to Melissa’s room- only to see you on the floor with a bloody cheek that is now spilling onto the carpet.

“Oh dear God!” the kindergarten teacher sputters as she kneels down beside you and the redhead. “What happened?”

“I- I don’t know,” Melissa mutters as she lays you down on your back. “She hasn’t been feeling well, but I-”

You open your eyes groggily, only to groan at the florescent lights hitting you. You screw them shut again.

“Mi amore,” your wife mumbles as she presses a tissue to your cheek. Then she turns to look at Barbara. “Can you grab me her bottle of water?”

No sooner is your water bottle straw being brought to your lips as Melissa props you up, and you take a sip quickly. And then you’re trying to sit up on your own and pull the tissue catching your blood from your face. Strong hands just keep you on the ground though.

“Lis, I’m perfectly-”

“Did you want to finish that thought?” the redhead interrupts you. “Did you want to finish blaming that you’re perfectly fine? Or are you going to faint again?”

You jut out your bottom lip as you succeed in pulling the tissue away from you cheek. “Be nice to me,” you pout. “I’m injured, and not feeling well.”

Green eyes are rolled with such love. “Oh, so now you admit it? There’s blood on my floor.”

“I’ll clean it up.” You go to move, but once again, you’re glued to the woman holding you in her arms.

“Like hell you will,” Melissa mumbles as she presses a kiss to your unmarked cheek. “What you will be doing is laying on the floor for a few minutes while I clean it up, and then we’re going home.”

“Dear, why did you faint?” Barbara asks as she switches places with the redhead. “Did you eat today?”

You hum softly as you take another sip of water. “I had a few bites of breakfast this morning, but that’s all I could manage.”

“No wonder you passed out. Why didn’t you eat lunch?”

You shrug.

“Or ask one of us to bring it to you?”

Again, you shrug. “Didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Next time,” both older women grumble. “Be a smaller bother than fainting after school.”

“Noted.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you’re feeling well enough to sit up on your own. And when you go to stand, you find that you’re instead being swept off your feet and into the arms of your wife.

“You’re not fainting again,” Melissa tells you sternly. She whisks you out of the classroom and in the direction of your cars, leaving Barbara to follow along with all of your belongings.

“Guys,” you grumble, although you do wrap your arms around Melissa’s neck and lean into her slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Fine my ass,” Melissa huffs as she sets you down in the passenger seat. She turns to the kindergarten teacher and takes both of your belongs before sighing. “Thanks for the help, Barb.”

“Anything for family,” the woman smiles sweetly, although then she turns to you with a stern look. “I do hope that you won’t be making a habit of this though.”

You turn red under Barbara’s steely gaze. “I won’t.” 

Since that first incident, you’ve been a lot better about taking care of yourself- although you do have to admit that sometimes you’re only remembering to take care of yourself because of your wonderful wife (and Barbara, at times). You don’t end up fainting at school again- thank goodness.

Well, that is until you’re attempting to hide the fact that you’re pregnant. You and your wife had only recently discovered that you were with child.

It’s May- an unusually hot month that you’re sitting in a school without air conditioning. You can feel the flush in your cheeks as you’re sitting in the staff room with your coworkers, your wife’s hand resting warmly on your thigh.

“Off,” you mumble as you practically throw her hand off of you and begin to fan yourself with your hand.

The redhead looks at you, clearly confused, but then she sees the red in your cheeks, and she knows you’re going through a hot flash- one of the few symptoms that you’ve had of this pregnancy so far.

“Are you-” and then you go down.

Melissa, who had dealt with this a few times (the first time being when you had passed out and she forced you to take a test), moves in a calm and purposeful manner. She has the lollipop to help with the nausea that is bound to overtake you, your water bottle, and then she’s down by your side quickly.

“She’s eating!” Barbara shouts in disbelief. “How could she faint?!”

When you come to a few seconds later, you let out a heavy sigh. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“If you knew you were getting overheated, you should’ve asked for an ice pack like you do at home,” you wife tuts.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you take a few sips of water.

“This isn’t good for you or the baby,” Melissa sighs, entirely forgetting where she’s at in the moment. The only thing she cares about is you.

“The what?!” Jacob practically shouts, being the first one to hear this news and let it sink in.

“You’re with child?!” Barbara cries not a moment later.

You bite your lip and look to your wife, who is about as red as her hair. “Uhm… surprise?”

Tags

 (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @schmentisgf

[jamiesfootball]

🔪🩳⛓️🛌🏼

Oh man, everyone remember this cool ask game that I did? Of course you do. It definitely wasn’t almost three months ago

Three sentences for each fic, with some extra in interest

Some general content warnings for guns, referenced captivity, referenced murder, and implied future claustrophobia. A lot of things being referenced or implied here, but nothing super graphic

Except the platonic cuddles, of course. Content warning for the homie feeling like home or whatever

🔪 - Jamie Murders Zava

Maybe he should just confess.

Problem was that the more he thought about it, the less he remembered about what happened. The bit leading up to it came clear and sharp, and the aftermath — moving the body, stuffing it in between the carjack and the emergency crowbar and an old bag of clothes Jamie didn’t remember putting there — all of that sprinkled in his mind like glass crushed underfoot. Barely noticed until he stepped on a stray bit, and then he was bleeding everywhere, lightheaded and tethered to his body by only the faintest wisp. Hard to remember he was a person when he couldn’t even remember what he’d been doing, what he’d done.

But Jamie had other memories like that. No one had ever noticed or called him out on it. He could probably figure out what he’d done when confronted with the evidence, couldn’t he?

Speaking of the evidence.

He waited for Goodman and O’Brien to pass. Pretended to check his phone. When the coast was clear, he popped the boot open. Closed it.

Dead as yesterday.

He’d call for an Uber.

🩳 - Locked in a Trunk

He waited for the lads in red and white to leave. Then he made his move.

The first trunk he checked was disappointingly full, but the second one he found was only halfway crammed with odds and ends. With one last glance over his shoulder, Jamie tucked himself inside. Taking care to be all quiet-like, he pulled the lid closed and grinned to himself in the resulting darkness.

These equipment trunks didn’t even have locks on them. Honestly, it was like asking for someone to break in.

He settled in, making himself cosy amidst the spare gear, and waited for the others to come and find him.

⛓️ - Muzzled

No.

Someone's standing over him.

Roy snaps his eyes open. A black hooded figure stares back.

A strangled noice curls from his throat. He tries to throw himself back, and hits human hands and human heat and a very human knee that digs into his back and pins him to the fucking bed.

Something cold and metal presses into his hair, flush against his scalp, and clicks.

"Good morning, Mr. Kent,” the hooded figure says in smooth, faintly accented English. “I am going to start by asking for your cooperation."

🛌🏼 - Secret Nap Club

He cracked open his eyes and groaned.

This was much worse.

This time it was Roy who’d crossed the equator line of pillows, crushed right over them so that he could spoon against Jamie’s back. His arms were tucked tight around his middle, crossed possessively over each other like he was afraid of someone stealing his teddy bear.

Meanwhile Jamie slept on, his arms flopped innocently over the edge of the bed, as far away from Roy’s side as he could get without rolling onto the floor. He inhaled in quiet, wheezy little breaths, dead to the world while Roy seethed into the crook of his neck.

Even his snoring was inoffensive. What a fucking prick.

From the looks of it, Jamie had done everything right this time. He’d even worn a T-shirt, a thinning grey scrap that did nothing to spare Roy from his sleep-warmed skin. Or the not completely inoffensive scent of body wash, which was a sort of mix between woodsy and citrusy. For some reason, it brought to mind his host family’s kitchen, and the box fern that used to hang in the window, catching the morning light while the kettle steamed under it.

God, this was the worst fucking start to his day.

He was so busy composing an argument in his head for why this was still Jamie’s fault that he lost track of time, his eyes slid shut, and he fell back asleep.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

literally figured sorcerer!kristen's freshman year design out the moment I sat down and attempted to brainstorm (rubs hands together fly style) we eatin good today boys

[fagnumopus]

🍂

[ame-to-ame]

:|

[fluoneia]

sypnosis. continuation of pitfighter!vi. vi’s drink at the rink is spiked with something she’d never experienced before. she goes back to the brothel in the hopes of finding you. part 3

warnings. smut (17+), aphrodisiacs, switch (mostly sub)!vi, kind of period sex? idk. no major part of it, lowkey angsty at the end

a/n. oh my gahhh guys u don’t understand how happy i am to get requests you guys r so sweet please leave more !! and GUYSSS i LIVE for sub!vi i’m so happy for this request

arcane masterlist ✯

vi never thought she’d get herself so deep into this. into you. she went to babette’s in the first place for a quick release, yet, she found herself enveloped in you. obsessed with you. every thought was about you, about how you made her feel.

but tonight, she had the overwhelming urge to see you. to devour you..

or maybe, for you to devour her?

vi didn’t care. so long as she could return to the feeling you gave her a week ago.

“babette.” vi would husk as she falls into the brothel, catching herself on the desk. “where is she?”

“who, darling?” babette’s eyebrows furrow.

“her. dammit.” vi pushed off the desk, stalking down the hallway. she ripped each and every curtain open, looking for your face, for you. she didn’t care seeing the other girls breasts, she didn’t care seeing the cocks and the horrified faces as she glanced in every room looking for you.

she didn’t understand why. she’d never felt this much desire for a person, but yet, here she was. she wanted you, wanted that feeling she had.

her mind fogs as it fills with images from the week before. she remembered your sweet whispers, the feeling of your hands on her body, violating her, pleasuring her in a way she had never been pleasured before.

vi would never consider herself a bottom. but right now, she didn’t care for titles. she just wanted you.

but, when she doesn’t find you in any of the rooms, her heart yearns. she storms back to the front-desk.

“where the fuck is she?!” vi nearly damn whines. she didn’t understand why she was so desperate.

“violet. who are you talking about?”

“the girl! last week, i was here, and there was a new girl here. where is she?”

“oh, you mean.. y/n?” babette chuckles. “oh, you’re not the first one back for seconds, honey. it seems she made an impression on you.”

vi feels a rush of anger. she knew this is what you did for work, yet, she couldn’t help the raw anger in her heart as she thought of someone else with you, taking those sweet gasps, your moans and words that haunted her thoughts.

vi wanted to be the only one doing that to you. making you writhe, cry. she wanted you to be the only one that did that to her.

“she went home. you can always come back next week.”

“next week?” vi’s breath hitches in her throat.

“she took the week off. you know how this job is, it can be draining.”

and it feels like vi’s breath can’t keep up with herself. she glanced back down the hallway, before snapping her head back to babette.

“where does she live?”

“i’m afraid i can’t give you that information.”

“dammit, babette!” vi slams her fist against the desk. why was she trying so hard? why was she so desperate?

she stills as she hears footsteps behind her. delicate, soft.

“it’s you.” you whisper behind her, and oh, your sweet, sweet voice nearly makes her legs give out.

it’s like everything clicks back together in her head. every nerve comes alive, sending cold shivers down her body, when she hears your voice.

“y/n, honey, what are you doing back?” babette asks you.

“oh, i just came to drop a few things off.” you shrug. your heart beats faster as you feel vi’s eyes on you. you were used to clients coming back, but she was different. she wasn’t like the other clients, vi was.. something else.

you spare a glance at her, and you gasp at her dishevelled state. vi suddenly remembered she never even asked for your name. now, she knew it.

“so, i’d.. id better get going.” you clear your throat, turning on your heel.

“wait—“ vi grabs your wrist, but you pull away. she walked behind you. “wait, wait, just—“

“i’m afraid i can’t be of service to you.” you shake your head, finally stopping. “one of the other girls can take you.”

“i don’t want the other girls.” vi exasperates, “shit— i want you.”

you feel your breath hitch in your throat.

truth is, you couldn’t be of service to her. you were on your period, which is why you were given the week off.

you turn to look at her. she’s heaving, moving closer to you. you see her lips are chapped from the air, and this time her face was clean from the face paint she had on last time.

“violet, i..”

as soon as you said her name, it’s like anything vi had left of any sort of will is gone. she grabs onto you, pressing you back, your back hitting the wall with a thud.

she’s panting. her hot breath hits your lips.

“you need to help me.” vi whispers as she cranes her neck, pressing her face against your neck, breathing in your scent like it was all the oxygen she needed.

“what’s up with you?” your brows furrowed, hands releasing to grab her face and pull her back. now closer, you can see her pupils are blown out.

and suddenly, you remembered rumours of a new drug going out, mostly for couples. because it was an aphrodisiac, and a strong one at that.

“you.. you take drugs?” you narrow your eyes, avoiding her gaze. you never pegged her as the type, but remembering she was a pitfighter, it wasn’t exactly frowned upon in that business.

“what?” vi’s eyes flicker. “no, fuck no, i don’t. i just drink.”

then, you think for a second. you gasp when you realize.

“you got laced.” you peer back up at her. “there’s a new drug— blossom. it’s an aphrodisiac, vi. but.. it’s not specific to make you want certain people, just.. sex. you didn’t have to come all the way here.”

“i don’t care for other people.” she huffs. “fuck, i— i just want you.”

you frown. “that’s just the drugs talking.”

“it’s not the drug.” you feel her nose press again your neck, her breath, her scent. and your mind is brought back to one week ago, when you had the night of your fucking life. you’ve never had better sex.

you suddenly remember her pretty little moans, her body, rough and scarred, but still so beautiful. you never expected for her to be submissive, but that night proved everything you thought to be wrong.

and it turned you on even more that you could have the best of both worlds with vi.

you could have a dominant, rough, teasing girl to give you pleasure. but, she could also submit to you on the snap of your finger, especially now.

all your needs are met with vi. so, why do you want to push her away so badly? fear? fear that this could just as easily turn into something more, and jeopardize your job?

fuck it. what’s one night?

“wha— what is that?” vi says so sweetly, so innocently. you brought her back to your house, and now, she was under your will just as easily as you could get a glass of water.

you eyes scan over her body. bloody, bruised, scarred. her budding breasts, the trail of hair just above where you’ve been purposefully avoiding.

you hum as you run your fingers over the marks on her neck, her breasts. her hands have been glued to you all night, trying to pry every last bit of clothing on your body, to consume you whole, to have nothing but your skin against hers, like how it should be. how it should always be.

“what, you’ve never seen one before?” you glance toward her as you raise the silicone cock toward her.

“i— i’ve.. heard of them.” vi swallows as her eyes follow it.

“think you can handle it?” you jest, leaning back so you could loom over her. you hold the straps over you torso, tightening it around your hips.

her eyes are trained on the harness. it stirs a weird feeling inside of her— she’d never been attracted to men, nor wanted anything to do with their dumb cocks. yet, when she sees you, with that pink dildo that reminds her of her old hair, she wants nothing but for it to be inside of her, deflowering her, taking every last bit of dignity she thought she had.

with you, it all goes away. she didn’t care anymore. she just wanted you.

vi’s hands find your bare back, pulling you against her, lips only inches away from yours. her hands roam your soft skin, clutching onto your stomach, wanting to fuse her body with yours.

“i don’t care if i can handle it.” she muttered, pupils nearly taking over her whole eyes. “give it to me. give it all to me.”

you hum as you press your lips against the corner of her mouth. she gasps, before letting a loud whine from her throat.

“kiss me.” she grasps your face, “dammit, kiss me.”

“isn’t that too.. intimate?”

vi groans in annoyance as she tightens her grip on your face, lips crashing against yours in a fiery, passionate movement.

and you realize, vi didn’t want just regular old sex. she didn’t want to be treated like a whore, like a client. she wanted passion; she wanted you to make love to her.

and you shake the thoughts way with the thought— it’s just the aphrodisiac.

slowly, you let yourself melt against her, melt against her lips. her tongue grazes your lip, just barely, and you take that as permission to let your tongue slip against hers, dancing in a passionate movement for dominance. vi’s hands tighten on your body, grasp at the plush of your thighs, so soft, so delicate.

and she thinks, just maybe, she’s slowly starting to get a grasp on herself again. she remembered— she should be the one in control.

but, then.. the thoughts fade away as soon as they come.

she gasped as you take hold of the silicone dildo, moving to press it against her slick, coating the tip of it in the warmth.

you hum as her will instantly diminishes, vi’s chest heaving at the reminder that right now, she was under your will. under your control.

you pull away from her lips to mutter, “sure you can handle this?”

“i’m fucking sure.” vi grunts, hands gripping your cheeks harder, pulling your lips against hers again. and she thinks, your lips were so soft. scarily soft. dangerously soft in a way that she was scared she’d never be able to leave you— the feeling of your lips, your hands, ever again.

and when your hands press against her stomach, softly grazing against the bruise beneath her rib, she grimaces in pain. but.. she found it even more dangerous that she didn’t want to shy away from the pain, from your hands. instead, she relished in it, and it only aroused her more.

vi’s mind goes into an instant fog as you slowly press the silicone inside her, entering her with a soft pop!

and she cries out in both pain and immeasurable pleasure. her hands roam into your hair, tightening against it as she tries to alleviate the raw pain of the stretch.

you frown as you realize you probably should have chosen a smaller one, considering it was her first time.

but, you grin again as you see vi’s spine arching up, toward you, pushing the dildo in more.

and vi swore she saw white.

“shh, shh..” you whisper, breath trickling down her neck. “you can take it.”

“oh, fuck!” vi’s eyes close as her face tightens fully.

“relax.” you hum against the shell of her ear, hand grazing over her stomach, up, and up and up, rubbing against her breasts. “can’t do anything when you’re so damn tight, vi.” you giggle into her ear. “eyes on me. come on.”

you tap just underneath her eye, against the tattoo on her cheek you could now see without the face paint. it was of her name. a little egotistical, much?

she opens her eyes with a damn whimper, and you swore it was the most sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“that’s it.” you glance at her. the way you were looking at her, so primal, so full of lust, vi swore she could melt into a puddle in her spot. she was so far gone now, she knew that there was no going back.

her eyes train on you, not daring to look away. she finds herself lost in your eyes, and you in hers, so blue, so soft. she was submitting to you with her very own eyes, and you knew that, even without looking at her body yearning for you.

you take the chance at her body relaxing to push your hips forward, relaxing yourself into her until your hips touched hers, your bodies fusing together.

her mouth gapes, her eyes rolling back. oh, she was so far into this hole now.

your hands grab her calves, pressing her back, nearly pushing her down so far her knees could touch her ears with one movement.

and oh, the stretch, so painful, filling her, pressing so deep inside of her unlike anything she’s ever felt.

vi’s hands race to cover her face, a whine escaping her throat as she panted, feeling so, so full.

“what’s wrong, hm? feel too good?” you jest as you lean closer.

vi says nothing. you test the waters by using the new position to press deeper, angling your hips to hit the spot you knew always worked.

in both men and women, there’s always a soft spot that will make them bleed in submission, that will let you fully take control of their head. that’s what you did best.

vi cried out. she knew that damn spot, of course she did, but she never imagined it would be used against her, that someone would hit that spot, and hit it so fucking good.

“thi—! this position..” she mewled, “ts’ too embarrassing.”

and you fucking laugh. “you’ll learn soon that nothing is embarrassing when you’re with me.

“you’ll learn to forget yourself in these moments.” you tease your tongue against her jaw, hands moving to her thighs, pushing her down deeper. “embarrassment doesn’t exist with me. you’ll see.”

as if to solidify your words, you gently pull your hips back, till the dildo was about halfway out, then you slam your hips back against hers. vi cried out, voice cracking at the sudden movement.

“this okay?” you’d whisper against her skin.

vi’s heart nearly melts. even in this moment, so crude to put her in such a lude position, you’re still so damn sweet to her, just like last week.

but, vi can’t respond. she can’t form words. she didn’t remember how, or when she forgot how to speak until the words catch into her throat.

slowly, her eyes open and she nods her head. it was more then okay, it was the best damn thing she’d felt in her entire life.

“i need words, vi.”

“y.. ye—s! it’s okay.” vi sputters, face rushing full of blood, blushing so cutely. you chuckle.

“good.” you smile against her pulse, pressing a soft kiss there. then, you rock your hips back, just barely, before thrusting your hips back in.

you continue at the slow, teasing, torturing and mean pace. you feel vi’s legs shiver against you, her head pushing back into the pillow.

you feel a sound in her throat, against your lips, and she pushes her body closer to yours.

her entire body shakes with each thrust, each push back inside of her, so deep, pressing just barely over that spot each time.

and she realized, she wanted you to be rougher. she wanted you to act like how she treats other girls she sleeps with, how she treated you that one night. maybe that was all she wanted all along— projecting the way she treated the girls because she wanted someone to do that to her.

she didn’t know that until you, you, you, came into her life.

every thought was you. every, single, thought. mind a total haze, she forgets herself. she doesn’t care to be quiet anymore, she doesn’t care to try and stay reserved. she wanted you to do whatever you wanted to her.

and she’d probably let you.. if you weren’t treating her like a damned delicate doll.

“g..” she starts, a wonton moan escaping her lips. “faster.”

“oh?” you grin. “you ready now, huh? all stretched out?”

“ye— ugh! yes, i’m—‘i’m ready.” she grasps onto the sheet beneath her.

“hm, you sure?”

“yes, i’m fucking sure!”

“you’d better watch your mouth, vi. or this is just gonna go slower.” you move to meet her gaze, nose pressing against hers. “got that?”

vi looks like a puppy who’s being teased a treat, being made to do tricks. soft little gasps, soft sounds leave her as she clutched the sheet harder. she swallows, before slowly nodding.

“good.” you say as you nip at her nose, before adjusting your hold on her thighs, propping yourself up.

you tilt back to spit on her already sopping folds, and she bites her lip at the lude gesture.

you slowly, oh so slowly, pull your hips back till just the tip is left inside of her.

then, you ram your hips back against her, so roughly it makes the bed shake.

a loud noise leaves vi. she grips so hard on the sheets she pulled the fitted sheet off the bed, but not paying it no mind. all she cared about right now was getting more of this feeling, more of you.

“fuck!” vi cried out.

you chuckle. then, you begin at a steady, harder, faster pace. your hand lets go of her thigh, letting it drop down on the side of the bed, hand moving to graze over her face.

your hands push her hair back out of her face, clutching it so tightly. vi heaved at the feeling, mouth agape as you press your hips faster, harder, so harsh against that spot she felt like she was going insane.

then, you let go of her hair. and you brush your fingers over her lips, prying them open, pressing your fingers against her tongue.

“wouldn’t want the neighbours to hear, would you?” you had no neighbours. but, vi didn’t know that. “wouldn’t want them to know i’m fucking you so good like this, hm?”

vi doesn’t respond. her eyes are fully gone, concentrated on you, and you feel a soft gag against your finger.

she doesn’t think as she lets her teeth clamp against your fingers, biting so hard because she can’t handle the pleasure, so hard it drew blood.

and the taste of your blood enough was to send her over the edge.

you feel the vibration of her voice against your fingers, her entire body erupting into a shaking mess.

“oh!” your eyes gleam as you glance down, slowing your thrusts, relishing in the glance of the pink dildo slowly staining white.

and your heart leaps as you see her hips pulling away. oh, how hilarious.

“you had me in the same position before.” you husk, “and you didn’t give me mercy. so greedy, aren’t you, vi?”

you let your fingers slip out of her mouth so she can speak.

“god, oh my god!” she gasped, entire body collapsing against your bed. “i-i fuck, god..” her hips drag away from you, stomach jolting from your touch against her stomach.

“so.. wouldn’t it only be fair to give you the same treatment? punish you?”

vi shakes her head violently.

“no, no!”

you still as you see the tear on her cheek.

“no more. no more.” she pants, eyes slowly opening to glance up to you.

you let your eyes close with a sigh.

“oh well. another night.” you snort as you slowly pull the dildo out of her, letting it hang, and resting it on her thigh. “let me clean you up. that sound good, hm?”

vi stares at the ceiling with no response. you snort, before pulling yourself away, hucking the strap off to some random place. vi suddenly looks to you, before roughly grabbing your wrist.

“don’t go. please.” she whispers.

you stiffen at her words. slowly, you relax. and you obey her wishes.

“alright. i won’t.”

vi’s hands travel down your body, hooking around your waist and pulling you against her chest.

even after what you thought was probably the orgasm of vi’s life, she was still a fighter after all, and she was strong.

you let yourself melt against her. her hands graze over your back, body still shaking as she reminisced in the feeling of her high.

“that.. that was a one time thing.” vi suddenly says. she swallowed. “it was just an aphrodisiac. i am not a bottom.”

you pick your head up off her chest, narrowing your eyes at her. she quickly adverts her gaze, biting her tongue, a harsh blushing finding her cheeks. you snort.

“keep telling yourself that, vi. that’s what every stubborn top says after they’ve seen me.”

she makes a tch sound. “whatever. bunch of wimps.”

you giggle.

it was probably around two hours later, and you hadn’t moved from where you two both were. your hands played with her hair.

and you realize, this was the first time you ever stayed with a client after their appointment. and it continued to dawn on you that this probably wasn’t what a client and a businesswoman’s relationship should be like.

“hey, y/n?” vi rasps, her voice laced with tiredness and sleep. “i.. i have to talk to you about something.”

you still. was she.. going to say something bad? good? proclaim love? you’d been in that rodeo before— let’s say, it was the main reason you had left your old brothel in piltover.

you glance toward her.

“yeah?”

“i won’t be coming back.” she stares at the wall as she says this.

you snort. “that’s what they all say—“

“no, i mean.. i mean, there’s someone.” she sighs. you still your hands.

she props herself up. you pull away from her chest to sit up straight.

“someone as in.. someone you love?”

vi glances toward you.

“no. i.. i don’t know.” she shakes her head, avoiding her gaze. “not exactly.”

you say nothing.

“do you want to know the reason i got into pit fighting?” vi stares down at her hands, “well.. a lot of shit has happened in my life. it feels like.. like i’ve never got a chance to take a breath of air before another thing was thrown at me.”

she inhaled. “i.. i was in stillwater prison for four years. got thrown in when i was probably.. sixteen?” she shakes her head.

“so.. you escaped? or something?”

“no. no, uh..” she grimaces, like it pains her to talk about it. “the girl. the.. someone, i guess. she got me released to help her with this stupid investigation. an enforcer.” she chuckled. “stupid girl.”

“we.. she was my first kiss. my first, i guess.. crush, if that isn’t too kiddish. i thought everything would go great after that. then.. shit happened. and, she left.”

your brows furrow. she left? just like that, and she deserves to hold vi’s heart?

“but.. i guess i came to the realization that i couldn’t stay away from her.”

vi’s face tightened as she thought. caitlyn should have been the one she was thinking of while under the effects of that blossom drug. but, she wasn’t. it was you. and that weirded her out. confused her.

“can’t just let all that go to waste, you know?” vi ignored her thoughts. “so, i’m gonna find her. even if.. even if she’s gotten over me. there’s always friends, right?”

you purse your lips. then, you stand. you grab a robe from a hanger and tie it around your body.

“you shouldn’t let your first love plague yourself forever, vi.” you say tightly. “you may never be able to let it go. trying to fix something that’s already broken won’t go as you expect.”

vi says nothing.

“take it from me. i thought i’d loved someone before. but.. it was bad for me. it tried to salvage any relationship i got into because i didn’t want to accept change, that people i thought i’d loved wouldn’t change, would remain in the same spot forever. but, that’s life. people change, for the worst, for the better.. it’s human nature.”

then, i chuckle. “i’m not about to give you a lecture. i’m not your mother. but, just.. think about that before you drop everything for a girl who may have already moved on from you.��

“don’t revolve your life depending on other people’s love. especially if they abandoned you after taking your first kiss.”

“no, caitlyn, she’s.. she’s different. she was grieving. it was my fault—“

“no need to start placing blame on yourself. you can’t control a feeling like love.”

you step toward her.

“cherish that. cherish the way you love. i may not know you, but.. i can tell you have a good heart. if this caitlyn girl is truly who you love, then let it happen.”

“your mind is still young. emotions is all you have.”

you tap her forehead.

“so go.”

vi’s forehead creases as she thinks.

“but.. vi?” you slant your head. you lean back toward her, pressing yourself closer so your noses touched. you brush a hand over her face.

“i know you won’t be able to resist me for long. you’ll be back.”

vi’s eyes are trained on you. her breath picks up, before she suddenly stands, scrambling away from you.

“uh! i, um, i have to go now.” vi swallows, rapidly picking up her clothes and putting them on.

you giggle as you let yourself fall into your pillows.

“see you, then, violet. i hope our time was good for you.”

she spares you one last look, and you swore you’d never forget the gleam in her eyes, the red on her neck and on her cheeks. so adorable.

she stalks toward the door, moving for the handle. then, she stills. she takes a deep breath.

“y/n?” she says softly. “if i.. if i ever do come back. just know, it’s my turn to use that thing on you.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat at that damn smirk.

without another word, she opens the door and slams it closed behind her.

you blink.

“damn, that girl gives me whiplash.”

a/n. said i wasn’t going to continue it, but here we are. um, expect a part three. probably. maybe. 🤗 idk still deciding

for @nobodyknowsimalesbian777 , hope my sub version of vi was to ur liking 😭 sorry it went a little off track of the request i got lost in it

find more about my taglist here.

[nappingpaperclip]

does anyone else feel like they’ve never been not stressed out??

like idk…I’ve been chronically stressed since I became conscious. I grew up in an incredibly stressful environment. ever since I moved out I’ve been stressed about school or work or housing or just finding food . There is always something. I’ve never had a break from stress that lasted longer than a day or two. does anyone else relate? what am I supposed to do about this

[dilf-docs]

Call It What You Want

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: you and pedro are married, but you've kept it a secret up to the point you sometimes forget there's supposed to be a golden band on your finger. but then you both get cast in your first movie together. the chemistry is off the charts, and it starts to catch upon you: will the lines between shipping and reality finally blur?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (ñom), smut, dry humping, oral (m. receiving) while pedro wears the skirt™️ (welcome to another episode of the writer's barely disguised fetish), p. in v., teeny bit of angst because i malfunction if i don't bring sad vibes to the function, the worst ever attempt of comedy witnessed by human kind, they're so down bad it hurts, jealous!reader, possesive!pedro, reader speaks spanish and may or may not have direct/indirect latino blood somewhere, use of spanglish but no translations ☹️ (boo go do your homework, citizens. that's what u get for making my dieter bravo fic flop BYE), i transcripted two real interviews for this so keep those likes, reblogs and comments up in the air where i can see 'em 🪓🪓

word count: 11,706 words

side note: hello! this is me, sliding my cv to become president of the pedro pascal fics. i'm kidding, just on duty to fulfill another request 🫡 believe it or not, i envisioned something like this but for myself IJBOL we have to keep the delusional levels UP!! i hope this meets ur expectations, it was fun to write :)

"Please welcome, the internet's newest darling, Y/n L/n!"

You walk into the set, cameras flashing bright and the band playing on the back. You hug Jimmy Fallon, and when he notices your body trembling he tells you everything will be alright. So did your manager before you stepped inside, but you can't help the nerves. You've never been this big before, and now it's all coming down together without letting you breath.

You take your seat and so does Jimmy.

"Hello, Y/n. This is your first time here, right?"

"Am I being too obvious?" you snort. The crowd laughs with you.

"Don't worry. It happens, especially when you're so young"

"Oh, please" you blush. "I can promise you there are kid actors who could handle this better than I am right now"

"Kid stars?" he lets out one of his famous cackles. "No need to be humble. You are great! Let's just talk about the year you've had: big breakout roles, ascend to fame, you're rocking it!" the crowd cheers, and you again turn into a flustered mess.

"Yeah, I suppose. It's hard to dimension when you've started as an extra for popular shows, to now being, you know, the main face of projects. But I could get used to it" you smile, "it's been a dream. I still can't believe it sometimes, look- I'm shaking"

The camera pans closer to the hand you're showing to Jimmy.

"Oh my God, even big stars like you get nervous"

"Big star? I wish I could feel like a constellation. I'm feeling more like a red dwarf star, baby"

The whole place bubbles in laughter. You feel better, your manager even giving you a thumbs up from behind the cameras.

"So, Y/n" Jimmy says once the laughter dies. "You just got casted in the upcoming Gladiator II movie, directed by Ridley Scott. How does it feel to be on your first big movie, alongside names like Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington and Pedro Pascal?"

You try to steady your heartbeat. "First of all, I have to say, it's such an honor to work with Scott. I grew up watching his movies. Like, Thelma and Louis is definitely my go-to movie. So, like, getting paired with such a talented cast is as awesome as terrifying" you answer with a laugh.

"Talking about that, you see" he leans closer, like he'll tell a secret. "I've heard things about you and a certain future co-star of yours"

You shift your position on the couch, your ring(less) finger itching. You have to avoid breathing in relief when Jimmy pulls out a picture.

"Oh. My. God"

He stiffles a laugh. No way. Has the room's temperature suddenly gotten hotter? Why is your face burning?

"Will you tell us the story behind this?" he asks, the camera focusing on the picture in question. The audience laughs, and you pray to God this is a nightmare, because it's too much embarrasment for a human to bear.

"Okay" you clear your throat, coughing awkwardly. "For my 25th birthday, I uploaded a bunch of pictures on Instagram, including ones where I was a teenager" you begin to giggle, "So. Um, there was this one, you see, that's, me, in my childhood home's bedroom, and my fans were quick to notice the poster above my bed"

"You mean, this one?" and Jimmy points it out. You cover your face with your palms. "It's a... Narcos poster" the audience laughs as you get redder. "A Pedro Pascal's Narcos poster"

"I know" you groan. "Picture this: me 18, and while my friends had posters of their favorite bands and artists, I was so different because I had a whole ass poster of a crime drama show about the world's most famous drug dealer on my bedroom" you recall with a laugh. "It was hard to explain to my mom. I believe she thought I wanted to sign for the DEA or something. When I told her I was going to be an actress, she was so relieved! She said: Oh, well. You'll die, but of hunger! Not a bullet in your head, at least"

"Oh. I'm so sorry. You proved her wrong though!"

"I did! Don't worry, Jimmy. She's my biggest fan now" you look at a specific camera before saying, "Te amo mami!"

"I see you speak spanish. I sometimes forget" he comments. "You've got one thing in common with Pedro, it seems. Think that'll make working with him less awkward?"

"I just hope he forgives me or I'm capable of moving out of the country and changing names" you giggle. "Pedro, lo siento!"

"Well, that's Y/n L/n, everyone! Pedro Pascal's number one fan" you burst out laughing in shame. "More on her lastest movie after the break"

mandoshoney: tell me i'm not the only one who started shipping pedro pascal and y/n l/n PLEASE can't wait to get content of them interacting ㅤㅤann-gell: mandoshoney y/n's pedro pascal's controversially young gf era starts now! i wonder how the press tour for #gladiatorII will go 🤔 unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they are dating ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess ptwt can never tweet like normal ppl…wdym you're betting your grandma?!!!?

You were never a fan of secrets.

But then Pedro waltzed into your life with his charming smile and iconic mustache, and before you knew it, you had married him off in some church in California one random sunday morning ("I love you so much, can't wait to marry you, cariño" "If you can't wait any longer, why not now?")

Flash forward, four years later, and you'd think such event would be plastered all over the internet. But there is a reason why only you, family, a selected number of friends and your agents knew: you kept it a secret.

To the world, he was Chile's most elegible bachelor and you were a young rising star. The public loved both of you for the same reasons: charming persona and acting skills. Yet inside the privacy of your home, he was Pedro and you were y/n, wife and husband; he was yours as you were his.

And of course, no marriage is perfect, and your first real challenge is rather funny: you both get casted in your first movie together.

It shouldn't be hard, but it is. Being inside the Gladiator II set during seven months, so far away yet so close at the same time, was torture. You were Rome's empress and he's Marcus Acacius, yet behind the scenes, the actual married couple were you both.

It was hard to pretend you didn't know what he looked like without clothes when he wore his bathing suit, or that you didn't know his favorite food when Paul asked, or acting like you weren't interested in dating when a local in Malta during your trip at the beach asked you out (he didn't know who you were. You were flattered when he called you pretty in such a hot European accent, but then Pedro appeared from seemingly "nowhere" and you remembered what your real favorite accent was. He immediately called you bonita after that)

It was so hard to keep hands to yourself when he walked by you, covered in fake blood. To not think about licking it all over and under his armour. So was to pretend the thought of dry humping him with his Roman skirt on wasn't tempting. Or that the urge to kiss him got harder and harder to fight each passing day, even getting to a point where you would envy Connie for being able to kiss your husband in the open more, a privilege you didn't have.

You were loosing your mental health here. But Pedro was no better.

It was so hard to see you, the Moroccan sun shining over your features like you were an angel. Otherworldly. That he'd see red when you'd finish filming a scene with Joseph, forcing himself to interrupt the small chat you'd engage in after. He too couldn't keep pretending he didn't want to tear off those silk dresses out of your body, and kiss you out in the open like Joseph did.

He almost failed once, cornering you in the hallway of the hotel you were staying. His hot breath lingered on your neck. I miss you, he had said. You felt his hard brush the inner of your thigh. We can't, you whispered in a dragged out voice.

It was hard.

So you gave him your used panties, and you swear you could hear him jacking off in the bathroom of his room, next to yours. He'd screamed your name, and your hand had found it's way to your dripping cunt, doing what he was supposed to do; touching you the way he did. And you came, drowned out moans against your pillow. But it wasn't like when he did it.

But God has heard your prayers.

For the first time in weeks, you're lucky. You find Pedro sitting alone in the cafeteria, his phone in hand. He's still wearing his armour and skirt, not bothering to change for the break. You aren't God's strongest soldier, but you're trying not to go down on him so badly right here and now.

"Hey" he raises his head when he hears your voice, smile adoringly. It only grows wider when he notices you alone. "Thought you'd never get rid of Paul. He's like, stitched to you"

"Same can be said about you and Joseph" you sit across him, and despite most of his tone being playful, there are still hints of jealousy behind. It arouses you deeply, and with this hot summer day above you, your skin isn't the only thing that's getting sticky.

"In case you haven't read the script, I'm his wife" you wink. "Sorry this is how you find out"

He laughs loudly, and God, how have you missed that laugh. Sure, it's been there when you've been out with the cast together, but it doesn't tingle your chest as when you're the cause of it; it feels like it's for you only, and that's what makes it special.

"I miss you so much" he whispers, his hand sliding across the table, finding yours. His thumb carresses your soft palm, and you melt under Pedro's tender touch.

"I do too" you sigh, but it's instantly replaced by what could only be described as a smug face. You lean closer, whispering on his ear, the warm meeting cold. He shivers. "Wanna know something?"

"I'm all ears"

"I just came back from walking. Guess what?No one is 'round here" you lean back against your chair, shit-eating grin on your face as all his body tenses up. "Made sure of it. The trailer zone is empty too"

Pedro gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as his eyes look at you.

"Y/n" calling your name as a warning.

"What? Can't a girl find ways to have her husband all for herself?" you snort. "Please say yes" you let go of his hand, but the free fingers now travel across his broad chest, taunting him. "C'mon, we both deserve a break"

He can't say deny you anything, can he? You know it, he knows it.

Before you register, his big hand engulfs yours as you run across the set. You giggle at his rushed steps, even more when you stand before his trailer and he's fumbling his slippery hands with the doorknob, sloppy movements erratic.

"But you told me to stop" you tease, and he doesn't even let you add more because he's pushing you inside, forcing you with rough calloused hands to a chair and then you to sit over his lap.

"Fuck, babygirl. I've spoiled you way too much" he groans against your lips. "Lo sabes, ¿verdad? Just can't say no to you"

Your eyes darken dangerously, the hunger on them mirroring his own.

"How could you ever say no to this?"

You press your chest against his broad one as your lip bites into his lower one, teasing. Pedro feels his underwear getting tighter when your tongue finds its way inside his mouth, even getting a glimpse of the taste of the strawberries you had earlier before.

He deepens the kiss, and when you pull away to catch your breath, he doesn't waste his lonely mouth and busies himself with the task of kissing your sun-kissed neck, licking and pressing his lips under your jaw. Pedro goes even lower, down until he's reached your collarbone, making you groan a bit under his wet sloppy needy mouth. He's enjoying how putty you are under his intense kissing, fingers in his curls, that have begun to damp under the ablaze of the small space and pleasure that fills the air.

"Kiss me again in my lips" you whine after a while of him teasing you with kisses that get only rougher. "Pretty please, papi"

You cup his face in your hands, and Pedro's back to kissing you in the mouth, tasting all of your insides as he hasn't had in what feels like a lifetime.

"Of course, baby. Missed this pretty mouth" he mumbles in between hot kisses, his now growing boner pressing into you.

"Baby" you giggle. The skirt he's got on may hide it, but your fingers refused to wait, pulling it up. His bulge presses against the shorts he's got under the skirt, and you can feel your pussy and mouth drool. "We have to do something about this big boy" your hands pull down the short, leaving just his underwear on. He's about to remove the skirt, but your demanding hands stops him. "This stays"

His brown concerned eyes make you laugh, but you don't give him time to think about it, rather grinding against his erection. Pedro's breath hitches when he feels your daring movements, bucking his hips against yours.

The friction is addicting, and he captures your lips once again to make you feel what he can't with words: how fucking good this feels.

You keep moving over his aching dick. Your husband throws his head back, groaning in pleasure at the way your hips move against him, knowingly. His hands find their way to your ass under the flowy almost translucent skirt you chose to change in, gripping the rosy skin tightly, hands almost covering all of it.

"You wore this for me, right, cariño? Knew I couldn't say no" he groans, firm hands on your cheeks, the grinding meeting his hips now harsher. "Less with you walking around with this slutty skirt of yours"

You make little sounds he's obssesed with, dripping out of your filthy mouth.

"Fuck" Pedro groans after a while, "I need to have you, mami. Missed you so much" eager fingers make it to your top. He growls, deep within him―guttural, ready to pull it off as he mumbles naughty wife when he realizes you got no bra on, chastising you for a "rushed" plan that seemed planned all along, when a sound cuts through the air.

You both stop.

The sound gets clearer.

It's a knock. A knock at his door.

A knock in Pedro's trailer.

And you are inside. Both.

While you're grinding him.

With his skirt on.

(It's time to build a bomb and kill yourselves off and whoever is stading behind that door)

"Pedro!" a familiar accent calls. Peudrou. It's Paul. "Hey, man. Just wondering if you are here"

He's debating on speaking up when he sees your red face and rising-falling chest before him.

"Answer" you whisper breathlessly. He tries not to groan when he fills you slip out of the spot in his middle while also trying not to think about murdering Paul as soon as he gets out.

Aside from the order, you're unexpectedly quiet, and Pedro quirks an eyebrow at you. He knows you better―you're his wife after all, and if there's something he's aware of, is your inability to loose.

"I'm here" tone clipped and annoyed. But no footsteps backtracking are heard: the Irish man is still there.

You bite your lip, watching the skirt with his legs spread, a sight too tempting. Also, he was still hard, as hard as the task to not go and keep doing your job.

Oh, fuck this shit.

Your devilish hand equals the grin in your face, fingers making their way toward his unattended bulge.

"What are you doing here?" Paul asks, but Pedro's attention has completely deviated, now focused on how they land right over his clothed dick, skirt pulled up by your other hand. "I thought you were at the cafeteria"

"Yeah?" but it comes out strained, yet the younger man doesn't notice or comment.

His hips raise when your fingers press his member, massaging it.

"Yeah" he uses a tone that equals a duh. "You texted me yourself"

Pedro rolls his eyes, wishing desperately he would go away, annoying him just as much as a fly hovering above fresh food. Talking about food, fuck, weren't you hungry? He tried to warn you, holding your wrist, but all resolve was lost the moment you looked in his eyes: he immediately pulled down his briefs, dick sprouting hard.

"Well, changed my mind" his tone falters in between words, member now free from the confines of his tight underwear.

"Are you tired, man? You sound tired" Paul comments on his tone. "Came to rest?"

You spit on your hand, and he gulps.

"Somethin' like that"

You start to jerk him off, leaving little wet kisses and licks just above his dick. Pedro's eyes are hypnotized, glued to every lick of yours across his girth, the spit making your movements smoother. Sexier. Fuck.

"Well, sorry to break it to you but rest time is over. They want us back on set now"

Your tight needy lips are wrapped around his his length and it's so hard to keep the talk normal when he justs wants to yell at Paul to fuck off. Your hand is there too; you are as of help as much as you aren't.

"I'll be there, Paul, just―Fuck!"

But his attempt to cover a moan doesn't go unnoticed.

"Are you alright in there?" he tries to enter, but Pedro locked the door. He's yelling he's fine, but Mescal doesn't sound convinced. "I can't go inside; it's locked. Are you sure you are okay, mate?"

"Didn't want you to take a picture of me drooling on my sleep" he manages to get out in a monotone voice. A real win if you take into account you've gotten to a point where you squeeze under his cock, massaging his balls.

"Smart move!" he chuckles from outside. "I guess I'll see you there"

Pedro covers a moan with his palm as he's throwing his head back in pleasure. He can feel his orgams looming over, minstrations growing sloppier around his pulsating cock, the need to fill your greedy evil mouth with his seed making him sick. He's a simple man: he just wants his pretty wife to fuck his cock silly and come in her mouth in peace. Is that so hard to get this days?

Paul seems to be finally gone as Pedro can't keep containing his grunts anymore, steps moving: until said steps sound closer again.

"Oh, I almost forgot, have you seen Y/n? I can't find her anywhere" it's coming. His orgasm is coming in the absolute worst moment. He can feel you gagging at his hard rock cock, hitting the back of your throat now. Still, your hands don't loose their grip on his cock and skirt, determination filling that sexy little body of yours. It was rather admirable the effort you were putting in this. "Think she went to the beach? She said she loved it. God, that little rebel. Anyway, if you see her, tell her-"

He leans his head back once again, seeing stars. No one knows him like his wife, truly.

The sight of you drooling from your chin, the wet sounds of him fucking himself onto your mouth as your spit-coated fingers pump his girth, you gulping down the precum from his tip, his fingers holding your face roughly by the cheeks...

"Yes, Paul, yes!" Pedro barks, barely hiding the moan that erupts from his ribcage, thick shots of his hot cum hitting your tongue and deep of the throath. "Fuck off and let me get ready"

"Jesus, mate, chill. I'm sorry. See you there"

And Paul Mescal's hovering fly ass is finally gone.

"Poor Paul" you say as soon as you pull off his length, voice raspy as you huff for air. Pedro lovingly cleans rests of your saliva and his cum from your chin as he chuckles at how much audacity, courage and horniness could fit in such a small young body. "You've ruined the friendship"

"You think?" he licks off some as you sit on his lap again, tongue directly on your face. You feel aroused again, but time's up. "It's your fault. That and this"

He points down.

"Just as you used that pretty head of yours to think of the trouble you just made, think of an excuse for Mr. Ridley about the skirt"

at0michips: wait wdym paul is sick??? ㅤㅤl-u-n-a-m: at0michips he's died vnightx: i'm wondering who'll do now the do you even know me interview with pedro now :( i was so excited!!! hope they don't cancel it :( ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: vnightx i bet my grandma it's y/n ㅤㅤat0michips: unhing3dprincess why do u keep betting ur grandma omg 😭😭😭

"You know what I think would be fun?" Pedro comments while you wait for the interview's set to be prepared.

Tour press has finally begun. That meant you could go home for a while after the filming wrapped, just to be back for the promotion of the film. You were excited of course, the experience new and thrilling. After much needed battery recharging and husband/wife time, you were ready to take over the world.

But then Paul got sick.

Today's interview was scheduled to be him and Pedro, but since he was unavailable, they paired him with you, since you both spoke Spanish (which felt slightly racist in your opinion), and because Fred and Joseph were already paired up for the other.

You leave your coffee, knowing he's about to say something stupid or endearing, perhaps both, brown liquid probably spilling out of your mouth. Or worst, nostrils.

"Tell me"

"What if we left little hints that we're together?" his smile is one of mischief. "Like you could wear my cap, or I could wear a chain with your initial around my neck, like Ryan Gosling did at the Barbie premiere"

"Or as Taylor Swift sang" you counter. "But Pedro, dear, you're underestimating our fans. You don't think they'll match it sooner than we think?"

"Maybe" he agrees. That's just what I want. "What's funny is we're about to do a type of interview where we could blow our cover"

"Maybe" you repeat, "or maybe you don't know all about me as much as you think, Mr. Pascal"

He fake gasps, feigning hurt. "Is this a dare, Mrs. Pascal?"

"No" you try to be mature for once, cutting the banter as much as you'd like to go on and kiss him right there. "Also, remember to answer incorrectly sometimes, you know..."

"There's no way I'm letting you win though"

"Pedro, no seas necio!"

The producers arrive just in time to let you know it's ready.

"After M'lady" he's back to being charming as he is, not as husband charming but just Pedro Pascal charming. The nerve of this guy to do it in front of the LADbible crew.

"Whatever" you grumble, the nerves getting the best of you as you realize this interview may or may not give away more than you've been allowed before.

"Hello, I am Y/n L/n" you present yourself. Wow, the camera is really close. This isn't going to end well.

"And I'm Pedro Pascal"

Hearing his voice soothes you. It's okay, y/n, you got this. "And this is Do You Really Know Me- No wait, it's do you even know me. Okay, let's start again: Hello, I'm Y/n and this is-"

"I don't even know anymore" Pedro jokes, making you laugh. "Do you even know me?" he asks while looking forward, now making the crew laugh.

"This is Pedro Pascal, that'll do" you sigh.

"This is gonna be sad, she's not going to know any of these" he says, but in reality, he's mocking you, the mischief in his eyes glowing as he only looks at you tauntingly.

"Same can be said about you" you tease, "we're like a million years away"

"That's not true!" he gasps, "I watch your every move" punctuating each word. God, you try not to make a face. "I have Google alerts on you"

If he was gonna play, so were you.

"Glad to know I have you alerted" with the sweetest voice ever, seeing how his friendly façade falters for a bit at the tone you've used. You laugh, and Pedro takes the chance to laugh it off too.

After the introduction, they ask one of you to keep score, and you offer yourself because, well, you don't trust Pedro.

"I'll go first" you say. "Which was my first ever role in the industry? As an extra during an episode of Stranger Things, as a voice actor in A dog's purpose" you can't help but laugh, "or as a back-up dancer in Hustlers?"

"In Hustlers?" Pedro inquires in disbelief. "You're telling me you were in Hustlers?! I didn't even know you could dance!"

Lies. You and Pedro sometimes put some bachata and dance in the kitchen. God bless Juan Luis Guerra.

"Jennifer Lopez and I are practically besties" you answer nonchalant.

You know the answer. He does too. But he chooses the last one for comedic purposes.

"I'll go with Hustlers. Now that I'm looking at you, you do have a... dancer face"

"It's okay, you can say the forbidden word. I'll take it as a compliment" you laugh, "you're wrong, though. The answer is Stranger Things"

"No way!" and it sounds as if he genuinely didn't know. Good lying son of a bitch; Jim Carrey on Liar, Liar would've been proud.

"Yes. If you look in the background of season two, on this one episode where Nancy and Steve appear to have broken up during a halloween party, you can see me drinking from a cup on a corner"

"That's so crazy"

"Yeah, I was twenty already, yet playing a highschooler" you giggle. "Wow, time flies by. Anyway, we're both at zero. Your turn"

"What film did my dad not let me see at the cinema when I was, uh, ten years old?" Pedro reads from his card. "Rambo: first blood, The Breakfast Club, Day of The Dead"

"I'm going to base this in the year you were born. Okay, so 1975. Let's see" one of the things Pedro loves about you is that you're like a film encyclopedia, but right now, that'll cost him a point. "They all came out the same year, and they were also R rated. Hmmh, I'll choose The Breakfast Club"

Your analysis was just mindless bragging really. You knew the answer the moment he started reading the question, because the anecdote came during a time he heard you listening to the movie's soundtrack ("Did you know that my dad...")

"You complain about Paul all the time, but you're just the same" he comments. "She's a real competitor, people!"

You flush in embarrasment. "Okay, that's one for me. Next question" you read the card in your hands. "What pet do I own? An orange cat named Louis after my favorite singer, a fish, or a Shih Tzu named after my brother"

The orange cat lives with you both. You're curious as to how he'll answer.

"You aren't naming a Shih Tzu frickin' Fernando" he laughs, so loud, it ends up catching up to you and the crew. "I'll go with the cat"

"That's correct" you lament. "How would you know?"

As if the damn cat doesn't love him more than he loves you.

"I follow you on Instagram" he defends himself. Clever. "We are, um, what do you call it-"

"Oomfs"

"I'm not gonna try to pronounce your made up language. Okay, my turn. Which of these characters I've played in Saturday Night Live? Naughty daddy, protective mom, or weird uncle who has a creepy sneeze" he reads out loud in a confused tone.

This is easy. It was all over your timeline.

"Protective mom" you answer on a beat.

"This isn't fair, that was really popular!" he complains.

"It's still two for me and one for you" you mock. "Now, what is the nickname the internet has given me? I won't give you clues because it's an easy one"

"Easy? You said we were million of years apart and now I'm supposed to know?"

"Well, you seem to manage Instagram so I think you'll be just fine" you tease, and Pedro just wants to rip that smirk off of you. So he caves in first.

"It's people's princess"

"What?!" your eyes grow comically large, shimmering with betrayal as you shout with an incredulous tone. "I can't believe you know" more like can't believe you said it.

"You're royalty! How am I supposed to not know that, internet darling? Besides, told you: I keep my eye on you" and he winks.

This motherfucker. Oh, he's totally sleeping on the couch tonight.

"Talk about internet darlings" your snarky tone comes out, and Pedro knows he's pissed his competitive wife off. "I guess we have a tie. Your turn"

"What are the initials of my full name?" his brows furrow. "I forget. JBPP, JPBP, JBPP"

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite. "B, of course"

"But that's too easy, everyone with Google knows it!" but then he's leaning into your ear, whispering in a very low voice to make sure only you hear. "I'll let it pass, though. Love hearing you pronounce my name, mami"

Your face grows obscenely red. "I'm back ahead. Let's see if you can keep up. Okay, here it goes" you read the card, "what is the director I've stated I want to work with? Greta Gerwig, Pedro Almodóvar, or Quentin Tarantino"

"Pedro Almodóvar, no? You said you were jealous I had already worked with him" he playfully nudges you. Too much contact, face hot again. Maybe in group interviews you'll do better, because right now, you're doing a rather poor job at controlling yourself, even as an actor; you can already picture your agent pulling her hair behind the cameras.

"It's Greta Gerwig, actually"

"What?! No way, you told me this!" he grumbles. "This game is rigged"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still jealous. I just think working with Greta Gerwig is peak womanhood, and I gotta live that. So, Greta, if for some reason this silly video gets to you, call me. I promise I'm not that childish"

"She is" Pedro slips in, "don't call her. So unprofessional" in a mocking exaggerated tone.

"Whatever, you sore looser. Me three, you two. Next!"

"Fine. Which of these songs would I have played at my funeral? My Heart Will Go On, Purple Rain, Nothing Compares To You"

He looks at you, silently pleading you to not answer correctly. Your competitive side screams in agony.

"I have no idea. Why do I feel you've already said it somewhere, though? I'll go with Nothing Compares To You, because the first its too corny for you and the second too epic"

He scoffs, amused at the fact that you did obey, but at what cost? Pedro's well aware his princess can get as competitive, if not worse, than Paul.

"You're saying I'm not epic enough for Purple Rain? Too bad, because that's the answer" you grunt, crossing your arms. "That's right, I am cool enough to have it played. I guess we're tied again!"

"No, you don't loose a point. It's still three to two. This just gives you the opportunity to tie"

"W-wait a minute"

"Settle down" you pat his thigh, "you can still try, handsome"

He gulps when your hand meets his skin, despite the layer of clothes. It's still something that gets him on edge, no matter the years you've known each other. And handsome? You came here for blood.

"Okay, here's your chance: what image of me became trending topic on twitter? An image of me eating a typical dish from my country, an image of me watching Deadpool and Wolverine with glasses while Hugh Jackman's shirtless scene reflects on them or C, me meeting Taylor Swift at the backstage of the Eras Tour"

"The typical dish is tempting" he muses out loud, "but I'll go with the Taylor Swift one because that sounds like something that'd trend"

"You're right" you throw your card. "I'm not complaining though. Best day of my life"

"Does this mean I'm winning?" he beams excitedly. "Oh, in your face Paul! I will finally win something!"

"Slow down, cowboy. There's still some left"

He purses his lips. "Let me have this one thing, would you? Guess not. Here it comes" he starts to read his card, "At school I competed in state competitions, in which sport? Soccer, lacrosse, swimming"

"Swimming" you answer hastily, trying not to think on Pedro wearing tight little swimsuits, as you've only seen him wearing swim trunks.

"Okay, that's dissapointing. Please continue"

"I participated in which play while I was in highschool? Hamlet, The Iliad or Much Ado About Nothing"

You doubt he remembers. The only time it ever came up, was when you visited your parent's house and a photography of you during said play was showed to him by your dad.

"The Iliad, right?" you laugh. The answer is wrong: It's Hamlet. "What? I swear it was that one! It's just you have very..." beautiful is at the tip of his tongue but he refrains himself, "...very greek features"

You can't help but laugh.

"Why of course! This is a face people go to war for"

"I agree" your heart skips a beat, "but I don't think I'll make it that far, if we talk about a war"

"You big fat liar!" you slap his arm playfully. "You've played all sort of characters, from soldiers of all nationalities and places, and like, superheroes, f*****g Joel Miller, even a DEA agent. You at least learned something!"

"Wow, slow down, this isn't a filmography recount" he jokes. Liar, you mouth to the cameras. "Okay, last one: I became a viral sensation for eating what type of sandwhich in LADbible's snack wars: BLT, PB&J, grilled cheese"

You remember the video fondly. Even your brother had sent it to you, along a text that said: Isn´t this your husband?

"PB&J, I win!" you cheer, instantly getting off the chair to do a celebratory dance. Pedro doesn't say anything, just throwing the cards away while the fondness of his eyes betrays him.

pyramiidsf: i want someone to look at me the way pedro looks at y/n mybritishstyle: guys they're just friends 😭 he's like that with all his female co-stars ㅤㅤann-gell: mybritishstyle me when i'm delusional af mandoshoney: where's that girl that's always betting her grandma??? SHE WAS RIGHTFLKRGJ

"Hello, I'm Paul Mescal. I'm here with my friends from the cast of Gladiator II" Connie and you both raise your palms to greet the camera, laughing when you realized you'd done it at the same time, "and we are going to play a game about how well we know each other for Vanity Fair" the irish man introduces the interview you're filming today.

"Did they prompt you?" Pedro speaks up, "or did you just make that up on the fly?"

You laugh a bit too loud, hoping they cut it off in the editing process.

Paul goes first, taking up a card with the first question written on it.

"Okay. Question: What's my least favorite day of the week?"

"Tuesday" answers Joseph once Paul is done reading. "Oh, you're writing it down?"

"Yeah" he answers.

"You just wrote Tuesday" Connie points out, Paul's card on his legs. You laugh along the rest.

"Yeah" he repeats laughing. "I actually, when you said Tuesday" Yeah, he said Tuesday Pedro adds on the background of laughter. "I was like...I'm gonna give everybody a point for that"

"I think I deserve a point for being observant" Connie complains.

Everyone gets a point and Paul moves towards the next question.

"What was the name of my character in Normal People?"

"Connell" both you and Joseph answer, looking at each other before squinting your eyes playfully.

"Callum" Pedro answers out loud at the same time, and you laugh. He clearly had slept when you played it for a re-watch last summer.

"No, you're out" Paul pokes Pedro next to him.

"Connel" Joseph repeats, and Fred agrees to the same answer.

Paul then asks Connie what's hers after he confirms you three.

"Connor?" she asks, confused.

"Incorrect. Three points" while pointing you three.

"You got wrong" he tells Pedro, "Callum's a different character"

"See? You just don't pay attention when you watch things" you blurt out, stopping yourself before adding the with me. It would be harder to come back from that, but so is this as everyone looks at you, even your husband, subtle panic in his eyes. Where the cameras this close? How long had you been silent?

"It's just, quick funny story" you improvise. "Pedro didn't know much about Paul's career, and as I am a fan, I took the time to show him and recommend him your stuff" Paul smiles. "Clearly, my fanatism didn't rub on Pedro but a girl can try"

He laughs, before saying "So the answer is Connell" and you try so hard to remain normal like the energy hasn't shifted.

"He only plays characters with the letter C in the name" Pedro jokes, chewing on a toothstick he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. More laughs follow, and you are so grateful for how he's handling your little metida de patada.

"What's number one on my bucket list?" he asks next, "and don't look at my answer"

The marker is the only sound to be heard, and then Pedro jokingly tries to take a peek.

"No peeking" Connie berates as Pedro laughs.

"You're not gonna be able to see that" Paul replies in an anyways tone.

You repeat the same joke, before Fred blocks you. "Not you too!"

Paul finishes after a while, Connie commenting it was long. Joseph raises his hand.

"Yes, Joseph"

"Is it to see the Great Wall of China?" he asks.

"No, but it's in that-"

"It's close, isn't it?" you interrupt.

"...family of thought" he finishes.

"It's to go and see something" Pedro points out.

"Okay. Rajasthan" tries Connie. "Go to Rajasthan, for a tour"

"Travel to South America" Paul interrupts with the correct answer, "I've never been to South America"

"I'm from South America" Pedro comments, never missing a chance to shout out his dear Chile.

Paul jokes about him getting three points while the rest of you laugh.

"I was born in South America. 17 points for Pedro"

"I want points too" you jump on the joke. "I know Spanish, so I can take you there and avoid you getting lost, mi querido amigo"

"But who was born there?" Pedro counters, "you get no points"

"I think Joseph is the only person who gets a point there" Paul adds, "because everybody just jumped on the bandwagon"

"He said to visit the Great Wall of China" Pedro protests, "which is nowhere near South America"

"It really is not" Connie agrees.

"Qué gente tan tramposa" you complain. "That's unfair. I remove my offer"

"Think about bucket list, and he came up with travel to bit" he tries to reason Joseph's point.

"And by the way, where in South America?" Pedro questions.

"Don't fight, don't fight" pleads Joseph, the calm one. Fred just sits there, enjoying the chaos.

"I want, any, I want to do a big tour of everywhere" Mescal defends himself.

Pedro doesn't back down. "'Cause it's very different"

Paul starts to get angry too. Jesus, men. Competitive men of it all.

"I know it's very different" making an annoyed face.

"Well, different is nice" you intervene, a hand placing in Pedro's left shoulder. "If you stop giving points for free, I'll come with you to the big everywhere tour"

"Alright" Paul agrees. "When's my birthday?" is the next question.

"February" all of you say.

Joseph struggles with the date first, saying seventh, then fourth. Fred tries with ninth, Pedro with eight, and then Joseph starts counting from one to two. Fred counts from eleven to twelve.

"Second" Mescal reveals. "Point to Joseph"

"Oh my God, you guys are good" Connie mentions.

"That's all my questions" and it's time to move on the next one: which happens to be your dear husband, Pedro.

"Paul is like" he brings up while the toothpick dances on his teeth, "Paul is motivated to catch up on points. He's coming for you" to pick on his competitive side as Mescal looks deep in thought.

"He's coming. He's coming" Joseph repeats as Fred laughs.

"What is my full name?"

"Oh! Pedro-" Paul tries in a blink. "Something, J? Jose? Juan?"

"Pedro Pascal, something, something" says Joseph.

"Nope"

"No?"

"Pedro Maria, Jose Maria Pascal" Paul struggles.

Pedro is about to answer when your voice cuts through the air.

"It's José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite.

"It indeed is!" he says, smiling a bit too much. "She gets a point"

"Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" your husband repeats in a more english-friendly pronunciation, looking at the camera while toying with his toothpick.

"I said Jose, I said Jose" Paul protests.

Pedro shakes his head. "You said Jose, but then you put it-"

Connie takes Paul's side. "You did say Jose"

"But then you put it behind Pedro which eliminate- which disqualified you" he replies.

Paul gets angry. That sore looser.

"That's absolute bullshit"

"Don't worry mate, the game has just begun" you joke, making the man more irritated. "Think you can get ahead of me?"

"Joseph is still ahead, y/n" Paul counters, still irritated. "Besides, wouldn't it be cheating? You can speak Spanish!"

"So? Not like speaking a language allows you to know every person's name Paul" you mock. He just snorts, despite still being half angry. Pedro is allowed to continue, trying not to make a face at yours and Paul's banter.

"The question is, who is my favorite actor?" he reads. As the cast members laugh, he uncaps the marker with his mouth, and now you have to try not to make a face, thinking about those teeth sinking into your flesh.

Quinn raises his hand. "It's me"

"That you're my favorite actor?"

"Yeah. You said that to me once" the bald man sounds sure of it.

Paul tries to think in the background. So do you. How can you not know this? he must've brought it up at least once.

"Do you remember?" Joseph insists.

Pedro finally remembers. "I said you were- I said I thought you were special"

"Oh" he sounds rather dissapointed.

"And special can mean a lot of things" he jokes, laughing by himself. Fred laughs with you as Joseph makes a face, your laughter turning even louder when you notice Paul all moody, trying to get this point.

"Who's your favorite actor?" Paul asks, "I think we just have to shoot from the hip here guys"

"Marlon Brando?" Connie guesses.

"Is it Harrison Ford?" Fred guesses.

"Let's go with Harrison Ford just because he's my favorite actor..."

You can't believe you didn't know this. You've re-watched and watched so many Star Wars content together. He gives you a brief look, knowing you're embarrased at your lack of answer.

"As a kid?"

"He's most influent, yeah" Pedro agrees.

"What job did I have before I became a full-time actor?" is next.

"Dancer. You were a great dancer" Paul aswers. Both Fred and Joseph repeat it, adding he was specifically a go-go dancer.

"Oh, he is" you add. "Videos of you dancing are lovely. Ever thought of getting back in the bussiness?"

He laughs, what appears to be a light blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Sure, darling. When you ask me to dance, I'll be there"

Nobody comments on this, too busy waiting for Pedro to say yes or no to the answer they believe to be right. But he isn't saying it is. Now you remember why.

"Come on, come on, come on" Paul begs.

"Can any of you guys remember?" Pedro pleads.

They insist that he danced in Spain, then New York, then settle with Spain again, even Pedro confirming so. But it still isn't the answer written on the card, no matter how much the boys insist.

"Connie?" he tries. She just looks confused.

"The answer in the card is-"

"Waiter" you answer. "You were a waiter"

Now you have three points under your belt.

"Why do you always say the answer at last?!" Paul grumbles. "You are cheating!"

"I'm not" you laugh the accusation off. "You just can't accept I'm better"

"Si que lo eres" Pedro agrees. "Es divertido hacer que se enoje Paul"

"What did you say about me? It's not fair, you're probably sharing the answers!" he's still adamant on insisting with the supposed cheating issue, making you laugh.

Now it's Connie's turn, who starts with: "How many languages do I speak?"

You put a puzzled look.

"You speak seven, eight maybe" Joseph guesses. Pauls says she speaks french, "but most likely seven"

Pedro points his finger at him. "Once he gets going, he's on a roll"

"Joe's got it" Connie agrees.

"Paul, end this reign" Pedro jokes. He looks rather frustrated.

"And the bonus points" Connie offers. "Okay, bonus, what are they?"

"This is an emperor's reign" your husband adds.

Joseph answers: Italian. Danish. English. Swedish. French. Spanish. Norwegian.

Connie agrees she speaks Spanish, making you jump in excitement.

"Oh, I didn't know that!" you beam. "Wait, does that mean you did get what Pedro and I gossiped about you?"

"What?" Joseph asks.

"Nada" you quickly correct yourself. "Yo no dije nada"

"Not that much. I just speak a bit of Spanish. I mostly dominate my own language, German and English"

"You blew our cover!" Pedro nags, hitting your bare leg, yet its devoid of anger.

"He needs a bonus" comments Connie, surprised at Joseph.

"This is horrifying" Pedro says when Joseph gets another point and a fricking bonus on top of that. "This is a slaughter"

"Oh, for which film did I have a gym built in my garage?"

Both Joseph and Paul answer the question correctly, saying Wonder Woman. The latter is quick to state they both get that point.

"That's one for me" Paul says, then looks at you. "And none for you"

You stick out your tongue at him as Connie reads the next card.

"If I were to take this cast on a vacation where would I take you?"

"Ibiza" answers Joseph. Connie agrees in Spanish, with a cute and excited correcto.

Your husband feels the need to crack a joke at Quinn's expense.

"Somebody was paying attention to Connie Nielsen very closely during the shooting of this movie"

"Okay. What is my favorite curse word in Danish?"

"Fuck" Pedro tries.

"No"

"Nobody is going to get that, Connie" Paul bickers.

"Oh, I don't know any Danish" you lament.

"At least now you know how it feels" Mescal drops, making you snort. You playfully kick him on the ribs with your shoe.

"It's very simple" Connie gives as a clue. "It's the same word in every language"

"Shit" Paul tries.

"Satan" she reveals.

Everybody is laughing in confusion at that, saying there's no way you could use that.

"Vos Satan!" Connie curses.

Now it's Fred's turn.

"What is my weirdest on-set habit?"

"I haven't noticed you do anything weird on set" Paul tells.

"I have" Pedro interrupts.

They all get on a small briefing about what could it possibly be, that it was weird, and wasn't part of his character, as you ponder. It was funny before, but now Paul is behind you by a point. So think fast.

"Yeah. I would say being yourself" Pedro jokes, but surprisingly, it works.

"Me! Five points for Pedro" he celebrates as you all laugh. "Love Fred. Oh, Fred"

"Oh, oh, okay" he moves to the next question. "What is my favorite reality TV show?"

Joseph tries with Survivor and Paul with Alone. Truth is, you don't watch any show of said kind, only vagely hearing about Love Island.

"You and I have talked about reality TV" Pedro reveals, "It's just that we never identified one"

They keep guessing shows that sound like a foreign language to you.

"You know what's offensive? That I'm the second youngest of this cast and I have no idea what are you all talking about"

"She's not to be trusted" Pascal quips, "can't trust someone who doesn't appreciate the art of reality TV"

You huff, annoyed.

"Is it A&E stuff?" Pedro asks.

"Yeah, it's the competitive cheapskates" Fred answers. "It's people that really save money on everything"

Pedro gets the point because he mentioned the A&E bit.

"There's like this amazing guy that made a stew out of fish bones, and I just thought it was incredible" he shares. Then, moves to the next question. "What is my go-to crafty snack?"

Nobody remembers eating snacks on set, and Fred gives the clue that it's a drink. Joseph says it's a smoothie, and he does remember it but it isn't the answser.

"I'm thinking of something specific. That Emerge-C that you put in the water"

"Oh, that's very good" you agree, so does the rest, even discussing the best colors

"Who in the cast would I ask to bail me out of jail?"

Everyone even Pedro agree its him. Everyone gets a point, yet Joseph remains ahead.

It's Joseph's turn. "What is my favorite sport?"

"Skateboarding" Paul is so quick to answer, earning him two points for both being correct and time.

"What celebrity do I get mistaken for?"

"Daisy Edgar-Jones sometimes" says Mescal. Of course he had to bring her up.

"No, she gets mistaken for me" Joseph jokes. "Yeah, poor Daisy. But I'm writing it down"

"That was the two letters?" Pedro notices. Still, no one gets it.

It's fucking Justin Timberlake. You'd never guess that.

"What is my favorite film franchise?"

You've probaly named all the existing franchises to no avail. You think fo your dad, a huge geek, trying to remember if there is one missing.

"Oh- Lord of the Rings!" you both answer with Paul at the same time.

"C'mon!" his celebration is short lived when he realizes you tied to him.

"What is my favorite British slang word?"

Pedro says it can't be said, but Quinn insists they can, even adding it's his favorite one too.

"We can say bad words? We can say-?" but the camera beeps over it.

The answer is Bellend. What even is that? Joseph feigns sadness and Pedro keeps apologizing, even as you sit on the chair.

"Okay. I'm last"you wiggle your eyebrows with interest. "Let's see. Okay, first question: what did I take from the Gladiator II set?"

"You took something?" Joseph asks on disbelief.

"Why wouldn't I take something?"

"Is it like an item or memorabilia?" asks Connie.

"It's an item" you uncap the marker, scribbling down the answer.

"It's a short word" Fred points out, but still can't provide a guess.

"You took the rings home" Pedro answers. You snap your had on his way, probably obvious. "What? You told me" he says.

Of course Paul complains. "Hey, that isn't fair! He knew the answer before!"

"Well, if you payed more attention to me, you'd know it"

Lies. Pedro knows because it's sitting in the jewelry box inside your house.

"See? I do pay attention" Pedro playfully hits Mescal.

"I could pay you more attention" he looks at you.

"Alright, then do. Ready? Next question: what is my go-to movie? Oh, this is a good one. I'm always changing it, but most of the time I end up choosing the same one"

They all give you a puzzled look as you scribble.

"C'mon, guys! I've said it on interviews before too. Paul?" the man shrugs. "Thought you said you'd pay me more attention. Heads up, you're doing a terrible job so far!"

"Hey!" he protests. "It's not fair if the answer's changing. Give us a clue"

"You didn't give any clues to yours!" you giggle. "Besides, I don't want you to win"

"Hey, that's against the rules!"

"I'd say it depends on the season" Pedro speaks up. You quirk an eyebrow. "Like, if it's changing, I don't think your Christmas go-to movie is the same as your summer one"

"Actually" you smile fondly, "that is true. On summer, it's Mamma Mia. So I suppose, if you can't guess the one, that'll do"

"No" he smiles, cheeky. "I know it too"

"Yeah?" you challenge, "what is it, then?"

"It's Thelma and Louise" he answers, and your heart beats fast.

"How do you know?" Paul inquires. "Somebody was paying attention to Y/n L/n very closely during the shooting of this movie"

Ah, his joke from earlier. Joseph giggles behind him. Karma, he supposes.

"She said it on an interview, guys. C'mon, learn your sources!"

"Okay" you clear your throat. "What movie got me into acting?"

"Thelma and Louise" Joseph tries.

"No" you laugh, "you're just recycling the answer"

"Is it an old or modern movie?" Connie asks.

"Hmh, old" you pause, "just not... I don't know if you'll ever guess it"

"Is it a Pedro Almodóvar film?" you shake your head. "What? You're always mentioning him!"

Pedro looks into your eyes amid the others' discussion, and you can tell he remembers the conversation.

"There isn't one"

You smile, chest pounding at his soft tone.

"That's correct"

"A trick question?!" Paul yells. "I quit"

"When there's just one left?" you tease.

"Yes, because you've been hiding it all the time but no more" he counters, pointing both you and Pedro. You feel the space getting smaller, breaths going from even to noticeable. "You are sharing answers"

You try to make your breath of relief pass as a chuckle.

"I'm not even gonna win, relax. And drop the charges, please. Loose like a man"

"You didn't explain it though" Connie speaks. "What did Pedro mean?"

"While I have many movies that are inspiration to me, they aren't the reason I chose this path. I did it because I saw an Oscar's ceremony when I was 11" you explain fondly, feeling warm at the memories. "I still remember when they handed the award to Diablo Cody for best original screenplay. I don't know, man, it moved me. What it meant for young artists who came from nothing. I guess I wanted, one day, to be the one standing there, for other dreamers to see it's possible"

"Wow, that's beautiful" Connie says.

"Thank you" you get flustered. "Suppose it was worth it, you know, to do interviews about not really knowing my cast mates" and laugh.

"How does Pedro know, though?" Joseph asks.

"We talk a lot" you clear your throat. "Last one: what indie horror movie did I make a small appearence in? I'm feeling generous because it's the last so I'll give you a clue. It's a Stephen King adaptation"

Paul is the first to speak. "You where in a-"

"Yeah but it wasn't such a huge role. Don't make yourself any ideas"

"I have no idea" Connie surrenders. "Other clue, as in how many words?"

"It doesn't even have any words" you laugh. "You give up? It's 1922. Was an extra as well. Made me think Netflix had my name highlighted in the extra call sheet, because I did so many minor and background roles during that year. Grateful, though, because now I get to be Rome's empress and not fortune teller or highschool #6"

The interview ends, and the camera may or may have not captured the last seconds, Pedro's gaze fixated with you the entire time.

elysyannemimi: we all saw that right? GET PEDRO AND Y/N IN A ROMCOM ❗THEIR CHEMISTRY IS INSANE❗ at0michips: love paul and y/n so much 😭😭 gimme enemies to lovers RN ㅤㅤbobgirllll: at0michips wait what if paul and y/n are secretly dating 😳 ㅤㅤann-gell: bobgirllll quick question are u dumb unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they're married. it has to be. trust me ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess BESTIE U ARE BACK

You arrived in London today. The premiere will be in a few days, and things have been, well, hectic.

Lux couldn't stop talking all the plane ride, but your mind kept going back at the email your manager had sent you before you had boarded the plane.

It's catching upon you, read the haunting message. Attached below, a TMZ article that claimed a regular church attendee had seen you both getting married. It also used a lot of the noise fans had been making on social media, connecting dots or just hyping up the undeniable chemistry. It ended with a little paragraph saying it was obvios, and they're just hoping you'd confirmed it.

You came to realize you didn't care about it anymore. Sure, the pushing around annoyed you, but the thought of still keeping your marriage under wraps feels pointless now. Why wouldn't you shout to the world how in love with your husband you are?

Yet, when you arrive at the hotel, you keep the same protocol of arriving after Pedro, who has already checked in with two keys, claiming its for him and his sister, while you ask for the key to Lux's actual room. After you swipe cards with her, you head over the room you'd be sharing with your husband.

His face appears in your frame, everything happening quickly.

"Get inside. Now"

Your body is dragged inside the hotel room, not even giving you time to swipe the key for yourself.

"Pedro!" you exclaim, between surprised and confused. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Did you read it?"

"What? The article?" your tone is filled with annoyance. "Yes, I did. Why?"

"What do you mean why?" he snaps, voice raising higher. "Don't play dumb with me. You know fans have fuelled the rumors, and tabloids have started digging every corner in fucking California"

"So, what? You're acting as if people finding out is the worst thing in the world" you roll your eyes.

"It is, yes!" Pedro bursts out, caving in to the stress.

It feels like you've been hit across your face.

"Excuse me?" you seethe, hurt etched all across your features. "Would it be the worst thing in the world to admit you're married to the person you supposedly love the most?"

"I love you, y/n. It's just-"

His voice softens, trying to reach for you, yet you pull back, his hand falling to his side in an akward manner. He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"I love you" he repeats, sounding much more sure this time.

Your frame seems smaller as your voice comes out hoarse, filled with emotion, appearing to be in the brink of tears:

"Then why do you act like you're embarrassed of me?"

He hates himself for making you feel this way, making you think things that aren't true.

"I don't. Never" he emphasizes. Then, tries to reach once again when you move a little bit closer to him, recognizing that's your way of letting him know you're ready. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me, don't ever think the opposite" then he sighs, heavy. "I'm just scared"

You silently ask him to explain, rubbing his thumb soothingly across his tattoo.

"You're so young, and I'm, well- I know we're aware of it, but people are cruel and the press is ruthless. I don't want to see your name dragged across the mud because you decided to marry me. Your career is starting, and I'd never forgive myself is something happened to you because of me. Not trying to make this about me, yeah? But this industry is fucked up. You've work hard to get to where you are, and it'll be unfair if you'd loose it. I'm scared because us..." he wavers, words trailing off. "I want us to be. I wouldn't want to live in a world without you, i-it would kill me not to have you be my wife"

You desperately want to kiss off the worry on his face, but let him finish.

"N-not saying our love is weak, or anything! That a couple of opinions or tabloids will- you know? Just, I-I don't want them to break us apart. Mi vida, you're the light of my life. Please, forgive me, I-"

He feels his throat closing up, words failing to come out. You sense the grip on your hand to be stronger, immediately letting loose of it.

"Hey. C'mere" your voice is tender, allowing him to bury his face in your stomach as you comb his messy curls with your fingers. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere"

He lets himself melt under your touch, his mind loosing itself in the soft of your digits and your perfume up his nostrils. He's again breathing normaly, hands now hugging your waist.

"There you go. Better?" Pedro nods, still not being able to talk. "That's okay, take all the time you need. We have all day"

"Do we?" he raises his view, his eyes soft yet there is something else to the brown shade.

You hum as to nod. "We agreed to join Lux for dinner. It's barely 1pm"

"Tell me you're thinking it too" his voice cuts throughout the air, boucing off the tapestry on the walls.

You laugh, nervously. "I don't think I do"

"Hmmh, I see" he stands up, towering over you. "You sure you don't?"

"You sure you want this?"

Before you know it, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, cutting off all words to be said. What a waste of air, anyway. You are quick to reciprocate, whimpering against his lips.

Pedro picks you up like you're as light as a feather, his arms flexing as he carries you and places you on the bed, frame hovering over yours. He breaks the kiss to breath, but you're pulling him back in, his hold on your hips tighter and the wet spot in your panties wetter.

"Look at you, pretty baby. So needy" he whispers against your face, hot breath lingering above your lips. "And mine. Mía. Only mine"

"I am, yes. Yours only. Need you so bad right now, papi" you answer in a rush. "Now shut up and fuck me"

"Con gusto" he chuckles darkly, "gotta keep the wife happy"

"Happy wife, happy life" you recite, stripping him off of his plain shirt, revealing his toned torso, bulging biceps defined by the movements. You gulp. "Fuck, papi. Gotta thank Marvel for this. I love all of your versions, but I can work with this too" you dreamily stare at him, your hands cupping his face.

He strips the rest of his clothing, but a cute blush adorns his cheeks.

"Yeah, well, it's Scott's fault too"

Your impatient fingers reach the middle of your panties to rub your clothed pussy, letting out a sound that darkens his hazel orbs.

"Fuck that guy" you mutter. Pedro laughs.

"Thought you said you loved the guy"

"Until I learned what he said about your body" you groan, still rubbing. "Connie told me"

His hands now travel to remove your clothes, almost ripping them off.

"Who cares? I just want to fuck you now" he breathes out, practically drooling at the sight of your damp panties. "Lemme take this off too"

He unhooks your bra, seeing the hard nipples. The urge to lick them is so bad, but his desire to fill you silly to the brim is stronger.

You see his hesitation, which is why you grab him by the neck to pull him in for a kiss. He kisses back fiercely, labored breaths as he struggles to focus on your lips, his wet mouth darting to your jaw, neck and collarbones. His hands roam all over your body, needy.

"Gotta be inside of you, mami. Can't wait any longer"

"Then stop waiting" you plead, tugging at his boxers with urgency.

Seeing you so cockhungry, lips parted and pupils blown wide makes his hard dick twitch with anticipation.

He mutters a labored fuck, aligning himself to enter your sticky folds. Pedro enters your tight pussy with a low groan, burying himself deep inside of you, used to his length by now. You're basically begging for it, nails digging and eyes supplicating.

He can't deny you anything, can he?

A messy whine leaves your widened mouth as you adjust, pleasure mixed with pain.

"Mhmm" you moan.

"Mhmm what?" he mocks. "You asked for it. Now take it, cariño"

He thrusts deeper into you, watching in awe how his dick enters your pussy; it was always perfectly, your pussy made for him.

"You're drippin' baby" his rough voice caresses your cheek. He kisses the are, giving a lick to the sweat starting to form. "S'fucking tight too"

You move your hips towards him, trying to augment the friction. The overstimulation starts to cloud your sense, reducing you to a whiny mess as you grip his steady arms.

"I can't think of anything but you, baby" he confesses between grunts, "filling up your pussy to the brim, you dripping with my seed for days"

You moan at the filthy words.

"Love how you take my dick, amor" stretching you as Pedro moves in and out. "S'made for me"

"Yes" you moan, skin slapping sounds bouncing off the walls. "Fuck, I love your dick..."

His pace picks up, and it comes to a point where he's just fucking you silly, his grip on your hips surely to leave a bruise as you keep spilling obscene sounds of pleasure from your lips.

"Your pussy's mine, yeah? No one else gets to have you like this"

"N-no, just you, Pedro. My h-husband" you manage to squeeze, more moans vocalizing the pleasure you felt with each thrust, his big dick inside of you moving in a a steady rhythm, making your eyes roll back further and orgasm closer.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, and he finds impossible to resist the urge anymore, licking the sensible skin and hard nipples, your hands moving to his back, scratching him harshly, both chasing your release.

"Please!" you whine out loud, not caring how desperate you sound.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

But your husband knows you, so he indeed starts to fuck you harder, heavy breaths and slippy kiss noises hanging in the spaces between each thrusts. He pants with every motion of his dick, a knot forming on his belly.

"Shit, baby. I think I'm gonna cum. Gonna come so hard"

"Do it. I'm on birth control, remember?" you groan, feeling your high approach as well. "Fill me up, please. Give me all your cum"

Your bodies move as one, precise thrusts hitting exactly that sweet spot of yours repeatedly, chasing your orgasm. For a brief moment, your eyes lock with his and then he's saying:

"I love you, y/n. So much"

Your heart skips a bit, his dick twitching inside as his gaze glimmers with adoration and possesiveness, teeth grazing your skin with marks for him to call you his.

"I love you too, Pedro. More than you know"

A final thrust is delivered. Fuck, feels so good you think you hear him say. Just like promised, he fills you with his release, shots of his thick, warm cum inside your sticky walls. You follow soon, back arching, toes curling, and both head and eyes rolling back. Pedro falls on top of you, his broad body collapsing over yours, as you both pant hard, trying to steady your pulse and breath. He then removes himself and positions you to be the one on top now, lazily throwing the covers over your bare bodies. We need to shower, you said, but he argued you'd do it later before going out.

"I needed that" and you happily hum in agreement at your husband's dragged out words.

Your head falls and rises, with the movement of his chest, silence settling on the previously filled with sex noises room. That until he speaks up:

"One day, I'm gonna fill you up so good until you have my babies, mami" he murmurs, just then realizing what he said. But you snuggle closer, hand and legs drapped over his bare body. You look at him closely, seeing nothing but certainty on his eyes.

I choose you. I'll always choose you.

"Whatever it is with you" your nose brushes his, a small sweet kiss on his lips, "I want"

His eyes shine, probably with tears or the glow of affection.

"Let's do it"

"What?" you look into his eyes for any sign of doubt, bull all you see is love. "Pedro, are you serious?"

He nods. "Wouldn't you want that?"

You feel the corner of your lips pull up.

"Never have I wanted anything more"

poppysplayground: Y/N AND PEDRO RED CARPET DEBUT AT THE LONDON PREMIER OF GLADIATOR II WTF I JUST WOKE UP ptwt is in SHAMBLES mostannoyingbillioner: UM HELLO pedro showing up with two hot women on his arms LUX GIMME A CHANCE pompeiianbollockr: WAIT WDYM THEY ARE MARRIED?!??! ALL THIS TIME?@?#? HOW???! NEED BIGGER CAPS TO SCREAM I'M GOING INSANE at0michips: that article better come out now or i'll burn the TMZ building ann-gell: not me thirsting for a married man 😭😭😭 how they kept this a secret for so long?? we should've noticed ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: ann-gell i did. knew betting my grandma was the way all along ㅤㅤpyramiidsf: i'm gonna start betting my grandma too

[cathnospam]

Canon!Katsuki Bakugo does NOT get drunk.

“You’re drunk.”

“‘M not!”

A trip to a bar to catch up with Sero, Denki, Kiri and Deku left you both in an uber and Bakugo’s face red, rowdy, and —-

“I’M NOT FUCKING DRUNK I HAD 3 SHOTS AND I AM NOT A LIGHTWEIGHT!”

You nod reluctantly, he’s as stubborn as a mule and even in his intoxicated state he will not back down from arguing.

Oddly though he never stumbles, his words aren’t slurred, and he is coherent enough to point out his apartment.

“Put me down?!”

And strong enough to carry you around the car.

You lightly tap his broad shoulders that you were now thrown over, you hiss as the painful sting of his warmed up hand swats the lower part of your ass. “Keep squirming. I like it.”

That voice was all too familiar. That raspy voice, deeper than usual.

It was so familiar that you knew he would throw you onto his soft huge bed, licking and nipping your breast all while creeping his hands up your dress his 2 finger tips lightly clawing at your clothed clit, until he draws tight fast circles on it.

“Kat—-wait. I can’t…we can’t have sex if you’re drunk.”

His eye twitches as he scoffs by your neck, “If you aren’t in the mood then just say that, but don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not lying??!! You aren’t sober!”

“I’m consenting to letting me fuck you.” His breath brushes against your lips, he steals a kiss before sitting back on his knees to watch your next move.

You squint you eyes, lips pressed together to prevent biting them after he said that in a way that made you nearly clench, “You know we both don’t have sex if the other won’t remember—“

“Believe me your pussy isn’t forgettable—“

“Can you PLEASE—“ You sigh, “ I just…don’t want to do it if—“

Bakugo kisses you again, but slower, sliding his hot tongue in your mouth before holding the back of your head. He stared into your eyes with a relaxed face, but furrowed brows as if he was focused on something.

You’re actually too good to him. Any other woman wouldn’t have cared and just let him, but you. You didn’t want to.

It’s one of the many reasons why he married you and trusts you with his life the same way you do with yours.

“Fine.” He grumbles, getting off the bed and stripping down to his underwear, “If you think I’m anything less than sober then we’ll sleep.”

You nod, despite him mumbling and grumbling he was far from angry, he held you close, trying a few more times before dosing off the HARD problem he had in his boxers against your ass, but he wasn’t upset.

…

“Mmm…” You moan yourself awake, feeling a tight knot in your lower belly, a familiar sensation all too well but it was just too much. Your breaths were ragged and since you just woke up you were 2 times more sensitive than you usually were and he knew that.

“Told you…” All you can see is his unkept dirty blonde hair shaking side to side in between your thighs, and panties bunched in his closed fist, “I wasn’t fucking drunk I wanted you.”

You couldn’t even argue back his wet lips wrapped around your clit for a harsh suckle, crying out your hands immediately thrown over his hair, “Ka—-“

You changed his name repeatedly as if that were the only word in your vocabulary, the feel of his mouth not missing an inch of your pussy, he began to tongue fuck you while rubbing your clit. He wanted to feel you cum this time while you were awake.

Bakugo groaned inside you, feeling your slit grind slowly against his mouth while you ride out your orgasm, he reached his free hand with yours to hold it and watch you cum undone.

“You’re so pretty.”

“You…”

“I told you.” He mumbles against your lips, making you taste yourself, his kisses distract you as he pulls his own dick out from his sweats and slowly squeeze himself inside you, making you break the kiss with a broken moan.

“I don’t get drunk, and everything I said last night I said it completely sober.”

[precure1ove]

crush panic

summary : how they act when they have a crush

characters : all dorms (-grim &ortho)

warnings : some may be ooc, crack?, fluff, not edited, completely self indulgent everything is intended as romantic

a/n : new theme how we feeling!! my favourite is loser as its the most fun to write. im thinking of making a second part on how they confess if this does well

an absolute loser in love

he has absolutely fallen head over heels for you and now has no idea how to act normal around you anymore. the slightest bit of physical contact or praise will send him into shock, and later cause no sleep at night because he over thinks that one moment again and again. “does that mean they like me too? Or are they just being friendly?” 

yeah there's no hope for him. he acts super awkward around you, stuttering, laughing randomly, no he isn't blushing it's just suddenly hot all of the sudden-in the middle of the coldest season-he always agonizes over why he can't just act cool in front of you. during classes, if you're in his you bet he’ll just stare at you from afar, and if you're in his well he discreetly glances at you every now and then not knowing that you can clearly see him looking at you-though you don't seem to mind finding it cute.

and if you tell him that he’ll go bright red and avert his gaze “haha.. uh thanks.. I think?” cue screaming into a pillow later at night.

deuce, idia, azul, riddle, sebek + ur fav

stage five complete and utter denial

he's in complete denial. there's no way that he likes you, he must be getting sick that's why his heart beats fast when you're near with his cheeks burning a bright red. he makes it his entire goal to try and lose feelings for you, so he creates a list of all your good and bad attributions-unsurprisingly all the negative ones turn out not so bad when he puts thought into it it ...what the hell is he thinking? 

it may take a while for him to accept his feelings, so you're gonna have to endure glares when passing or in class and possible snarky comments thrown at you. However, if he hears someone is mean to you, crush be damned he can only do that to you. He tries to act completely uninterested in you, a way to fool himself that he does not like you, but the second he hears any bit of gossip he's suddenly interested. 

he looks at you weirdly, flustered at your question “uh... why am i suddenly interested in who you were with.. no reason.”

leona, ace, vil, ruggie + ur fav

doesn't realise he has a crush

oh spare this oblivious boy, he hasn't ever really liked someone before so he doesn’t know that wanting to spend more time with you, fussing over your well-being, thinking of you and how much better it would be if you were here is not what platonic friends should be thinking-especially if those thoughts lead to how would your lips feel.

someone would have to straight up tell him that he has a crush on you or he would never figure it out for himself and go on with his life never confessing. when someone finally does tell him, he’ll notice how different he really acts, catching himself waiting for your messages and dropping everything once you text back. you also get the added bonus of finally seeing him flustered! since he's in the stage of actually being involved in having a crush, every touch, smile, or praise is enough to make his face and ears turn red.

“wait so you mean wanting to kiss them is not normal?” he pauses and rethinks everything he thought about you.

silver, kalim, malleus, jack + ur fav

quick to show off to impress you

he doesn't believe he can win your heart with his personality so he works extra hard on stuff he knows he can do well-better than the average person-he believes if he impresses you by this he has a chance. surprisingly he acts rather normal with you, excluding the way he's more relaxed with your presence and the constant flush on his face.

he's rather quick to recognise his crush on you and he's even more quick to decide he needs to make himself an available suitor in your eyes. you’ve gotten used to your name being called out across the halls from him, strutting over to you to show you what he made or did last night-he'll become flustered if you praise him shrugging it off with flimsy excuses until he gets back into what he originally wanted to share albeit with a slight red face. what's even better is if he invites you out to come try it with him, enjoying the chance to spend time with you and show off in real time what he can do.

“what do you think of this, isn't it impressive? you really think so.. haha..”

trey, cater, jamil, epel + ur fav

he goes straight to courting you

he's the first to notice his change in feelings for you from platonic to romantic instantly and wastes no time to try and court you. he starts greeting you daily, offering you gifts, takes you out with the excuse of needing help and you find yourself out at a restaurant eating expensive food and wonder how the hell did you end up here when he needed a book? 

you will never catch this boy being flustered instead you'll find yourself stuttering while turning a bright red. if you enact physical contact or compliment him he flashes you a mischievous smile and teases you for ‘finally falling for him’.. no, that was not a joke. despite all the teasing he does genuinely care about you and goes out of his way to buy or make stuff he'll think you'll like, your reaction to his displays of courting amuses him especially when you make such cute faces at him. courting is just a way for him to make his feelings known, after all you were his the moment he caught feelings.

“hm.. how did we end up at a restaurant.. does it matter? now what did you choose for the meal?”

jade, rook, lilia

there's no crush. you're dating

floyd has never experienced the crush stage and he doesn't want to after all that's boring. why wait thinking about coincidental glances, and accidental contact when he knows he likes you and you like him! he's fast to let you know his feelings and won't take no for an answer why would you reject him if you like him. 

now that you think about it, you're not even sure floyd even asked you out. he just sort of grabbed your hand, said 'you're mine' and you both went to get food. so well done you're in a not relationship-relationship with a giant eel! floyd feels like he can never get bored being with you and is always by your side, or on since he's a fan of physical touch and will have some part of him touching you-an arm on your waist, legs over his, head tucked into your neck-the only time he's away from you is if jade or azul need him for the lounge and that's only for a few moments until you're also called by them to keep floyd in the lounge.

“huh, do i like you?” floyd glances at you briefly before grumbling, “we literally made out this morning and you're asking if i like you shrimpy.”

floyd

likes & reblogs appreciated

masterlist⠀ — ⠀ request here

[sluttywonwoo]

fuck the neighbors

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader

summary: curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back- at least, that's what they say.

warnings: swearing, blood, asshole!wonwoo, mingyu is canonically a whore, light blasphemy, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: hard dom!wonwoo, allusions to voyeurism, degradation, oral (f receiving), blood play?!?!? (just a little bit!!!), wap!reader, massive cock!wonwoo, choking, protected sex

word count: 3.3k

reader notes: reader is significantly shorter than ww + described to have long-ish hair

You’ve never felt as small as you do right now. Wonwoo looms over you, smirking. He isn’t even that much taller than you, you just seem to shrink into yourself when you’re around him, which seems to be happening more and more often lately. 

“Found you,” he whispers. 

“I... wasn’t hiding,” you say, your voice coming out in a squeak. 

“You know it isn’t nice to lie,” he chides, taking a step closer to you. You take a step backward in kind, only to be met with the cool concrete wall against your back. “It also isn’t nice to eavesdrop.”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to,” you insist. 

Wonwoo tsks. “I don’t believe you. What did I just say about lying?”

“Well, it isn’t nice to be super loud all the time either!” you scoff. “You have neighbors, you know.”

The overhead light flickers. You and Wonwoo both stare at it, the inconsistent hum of electricity filling the silence before the light eventually decides to stay lit. You breathe a sigh of relief. You really needed to stop overlooking sketchy apartments for the sake of the rent, especially if you were going to have to deal with people like... him. 

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Listen, I don’t care who you fuck but if you could be just a little quieter-”

Wonwoo cuts you off with a laugh. “That’s what this is about? That’s why you were snooping outside my apartment? What, were you hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving or something?”

So you had been right... you’re not sure whether or not you’re happy about that. What you are sure of, though, is that you’re offended that you’re being accused of snooping. You open your mouth to defend yourself but stop short. 

“You’re bleeding,” is what you say instead. 

Wonwoo touches his lip, thumb brushing across the cut he must not have noticed until you mentioned it. He looks down at his fingers briefly then back up at you. 

“Come with me.”

“Wha- huh?”

“You want to know what’s so loud, right? So come on.”

You follow him blindly back down the hall to his apartment, the one right next to yours. You’re doing everything a final girl in a horror movie shouldn’t do, but you’re dying to know what’s been keeping you up at night. 

Wonwoo unlocks the door and stands aside to let you in first. With a gulp, you cross the threshold and slip off your shoes.  He does the same. 

The apartment is quiet, for once. It looks a lot like yours but mirrored. The kitchen is off to the right instead of the left. The half bathroom is on the wall opposite to yours, likely connected via plumbing.

The place is a lot cleaner than you expected too. It’s sparse, typical for a single guy, but still relatively well decorated. 

Wonwoo heads straight to the kitchen and turns on the sink. He wets a paper towel and dabs at his bottom lip, wincing as he cleans the wound.

“Why am I here?” you ask when he doesn’t offer an explanation. 

He doesn’t answer right away. Granted, the man was still bleeding but he’d dragged you here for a reason and now you were just standing in his kitchen. 

Eventually, he disposes of the paper towel, washes his hands, and walks across the living room without saying a word. You know he expects you to follow him but you almost don’t want to. You do follow him, you want to leave as fast as possible, but you consider it. 

He opens the door to what you know is a bedroom and points inside. You stare at him blankly. 

“What am I looking at?” 

“This isn’t my room,” he says. 

“What?”

“It’s my roommate’s.”

“You have a roommate?”

“I do. I have a roommate. He’s the one you share a wall with. He’s the one banging a different girl every night. Your issues are with him, not me.”

Now that you were thinking about it, you have seen a slightly taller, beefier man around the building. That must be who Wonwoo’s roommate is. He definitely had the face to pull all the girls Wonwoo was referring to. Not that Wonwoo didn’t-

“So take it up with him.”

You shake your head and purse your lips. “No, that doesn’t explain everything. I’ve heard your voice too. Unless you’re the one he’s banging...” you trail off, letting the implication hang in the air. 

“He’s not my type,” Wonwoo says flatly. 

“Okay, then what is it?”

“C’mere,” he says, moving along the wall to what you use as a breakfast nook in your apartment. 

In his, the space is empty save for a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. 

“You box?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Is that why you were bleeding?”

“Yeah, I just got back from the gym.”

“And that’s what I’ve been hearing?”

“That’s what you’ve been hearing.”

You nod but don’t say anything else, half waiting for an apology that he doesn’t offer. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Well, do you think you could practice your hobby before midnight? Or at least try to keep it down when you do?” you huff in annoyance.

He sighs like what you’re asking is the biggest inconvenience he’s ever been posed with but concedes.

 “I guess.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll have to talk to Mingyu about his... hobby, though. Or get noise canceling headphones. That’s what I did.”

“Oh, okay.”

Silence stretches between you again, heightening the tension in the room. You don’t know what to do. Were you supposed to show yourself out now that you had your answers? Wonwoo isn’t giving you any indication that he wants you to leave but he isn't giving any indication that he wants you to stay either. 

You don’t have the time or energy to deal with this. You can’t read the man’s mind. No matter how hard he stares at you from across a room. With a definitive breath, you turn on your heel to head for the door just to be stopped by Wonwoo’s voice echoing behind you. 

“Are you disappointed?” 

You stop but don’t turn around. “What?”

“Are you disappointed that it isn’t me you’ve been hearing?” he clarifies. 

Heat rises to your cheeks. “Wh-what do you mean? Why would I be?”

You feel him approach from behind, his shadow closing in on you before he does. 

“Because it isn’t my voice you’ve been touching yourself to.”

“What?!” You do turn around this time, whipping around so fast your ponytail almost whacks Wonwoo in the face. 

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me when I pass you in the hallway?”

You scoff, breathing a subtle sigh of relief. All he had to go off of was a look but if he had heard you through the wall, if he had that irrefutable evidence, it would definitely be over for you. “If that’s what you think lust looks like, I feel bad for all the girls you have slept with.”

“Resentment and lust have a very long history together,” he whispers. 

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

You feign ignorance. “About what?”

“About you.” He measures you up with his gaze, something triumphant flashing behind his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he presses. “Tell me you’ve never gotten off to the thought of me and I’ll drop it.”

You weigh your options. You could lie. You could save yourself the embarrassment and lie right to his face, although given your track record thus far he’d see right through it. Or, you could tell him the truth. You could admit to wishing you were the one in what you thought had been his bed all this time. 

You settle on silence and let him draw his own conclusion. A smirk tugs at one side of Wonwoo’s mouth. So he did think highly of himself. 

“I fucking knew it,” he murmurs. 

Before you can deny it, he straightens back up and starts walking toward the back of the apartment. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces. 

You don’t move from where you’re standing, unsure of what he wants you to do. Was he hinting at you to leave? Was it an invitation? 

Wonwoo looks back over his shoulder at you. “Are you coming?” 

“Hopefully,” you mutter.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

-

The water is already running by the time you slip into the bathroom after Wonwoo. You watch quietly as he undresses, letting the door click shut gently behind you. It occurs to you that you should be taking your clothes off too but you can’t look away. 

Wonwoo’s kind enough to snap you out of it. “I didn’t ask you in here just to watch me.”

“You didn’t ask me in here at all,” you point out, “you just expected me to follow you.”

“And you did.”

Damn, he had you there. 

With a noise of indignation, you pop the button on your jeans and start to wiggle out of them, unable to bring yourself to look at him again now that you’re also exposed. You can feel his eyes on you, though. It has the same effect his presence always has on you, and you attempt to cover yourself with your hands.

“Shy?” he muses. “Cute.”

“Shut up,” you sputter.

You don’t think you’ve felt this self conscious since college and then he laughs at your response which does nothing to help.

“I can’t call you cute?”

“Not if you’re patronizing me.”

“How do you want me to say it, then?” he asks, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. You stare at him in disbelief. “You want me to say it like this? Want me to tell you how cute, how pretty, I think you are, from down here? How pretty I think this pussy is?” Wonwoo leans forward as he talks, further and further until his hair is tickling your tummy and his lips are moving against your skin. “Spread your legs for me, baby,” he murmurs. 

You do, taking hold of the countertop so that you won’t fall as Wonwoo slots himself between your thighs. You take a deep breath to brace yourself for the feeling of his mouth but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the way he presses a gentle kiss to your pussy before diving in. The softness of the action compared to everything that led up to this moment, compared to the way he was now drowning himself in you, is enough to make your knees threaten to give. Your grip on the counter tightens and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, though you’re sure he already knows he’s got you right where he wants you.  

Wonwoo hitches one of your knees over his shoulder so that he can get even deeper inside of you with his tongue. He drinks you in, breathes you in, douses himself in you like he’s trying to baptize himself in order to atone for his sins.  

If this was his apology for all the noise, he’s forgiven ten times over. 

You can feel callouses on the palms of his hands as he traces them up your legs and over your ass, pulling you even further into him. The force of his grip causes you to stumble but he catches you before you can fall and helps you to regain your balance. 

“I’ve got you,” he assures you, backing you up into the sink. “Here, hop up on the counter.”

“What about the shower?” you ask, suddenly remembering that the water had been running this whole time. 

“Oh shit-”

Wonwoo turns around and reaches to turn it off, drying both his hand and his face with a towel that had been hanging on the wall. 

“Now, hop up on the counter.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, glancing at all of the skin and hair care products scattered across it. 

Wonwoo pushes them out of the way then nods. 

“I’m sure. Mingyu won’t care, trust me. He’d be a hypocrite to.” 

You sigh but hoist yourself onto the counter anyway, too horny to worry about it any longer. Wonwoo steps in between your legs and lets you wrap them around his waist. He leans down, you think he’s going to kiss you, but he goes for your neck and kisses you there instead. 

“Why are you pouting?” he asks, voice muffled and vibrating against your throat. 

“Want you to fuck me,” you lie. 

It’s not a complete lie, you do want him to fuck you, but it certainly isn’t the full truth either. You’re afraid that if you’re honest with Wonwoo about wanting him to kiss you it’ll turn him off. He’s not about to make love to you, that much is clear, so was kissing off the table? Was that too intimate for a hookup like this? Would he think you wanted something more if you asked?

“I was getting to that,” he insists lowly. “So impatient.”

“You’re the one who ate me out as soon as you got me alone. You haven’t even kissed me yet.” 

There. Maybe if you challenged him he’d give you what you wanted. 

“Oh, you want me to kiss you, huh?”

He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you in, finally pressing his lips to yours. Men were so easy. 

He tastes like you imbued with unfamiliarity. Blood, you realize when you pull back and see the cut on his lip had reopened. It isn’t much, just enough to make him look vaguely vampiric. You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip and push it into his mouth for him to suck on. 

He does, but he has the audacity to pretend not to like it.  

“You’re sick,” Wonwoo scoffs. 

“And you’re still hard.”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

He kisses you again before you can get another word in, dropping his free hand between your legs to ensure you're truly unable to talk back. 

He uses his fingers to tease you for a moment or two and then he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing it right up against you and making you whimper into his mouth. 

“Tell me, what have you been thinking about all these months,” he murmurs, “when you’re in your bed all alone listening through the wall?”

“I- it’s embarrassing...” you protest. 

Wonwoo draws back, tonguing his cheek as he gazes down at you. “Tell me or we’re done here.” 

You’re not sure whether or not he’ll make good on his threat but you don’t want to call his bluff and risk blowing your chance to actually live out the fantasies you were too embarrassed to share. 

“I thought about... this,” you say hesitantly. 

“This? You thought about me fucking you here?”

“No...”

“You’re going to have to be more specific then, angel.”

“It was, um, in your bed.”

“You mean Mingyu’s bed.”

“I didn’t know that at the time,” you whine.

He smiles. “I know. You know, if you had just paid a little closer attention you would have realized he sounds nothing like me.”

“I was a little distracted at the time,” you whisper.

“Yeah? Distracted pretending it was you in those girls’ positions?”

You nod reluctantly. 

“Poor baby,” he pouts, “must’ve been so jealous but so wet you just had to touch yourself, huh?”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that the condescension turns you on even more. 

While he’s talking, Wonwoo snakes an arm behind you and grabs a condom from a jar on the counter. Did he and Mingyu just keep them out for guests like they were cotton swabs or something? Did they get laid that often? 

He tears the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on as you watch and unconsciously spread your legs even wider for him. 

“Ready?” he asks, holding your face with both hands. 

It’s probably the first earnest interaction you’ve had with him. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation and even when he finds none, he waits for you to answer.

“Go ahead.”

You keep your eyes trained on his face as he guides himself inside of you, watching the way his eyelashes flutter and his breath hitches when he feels the heat of you around him. He pushes himself in slowly but the stretch still knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for air.   

“Breathe, baby, breathe. You’re okay.”

You can hardly hear him over the roaring in your ears but you do your best to listen, chest heaving as you desperately try to anchor yourself to him. 

Wonwoo doesn’t move until you urge him to by wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing his hips with your thighs. It isn’t easy at first, despite how wet you are for him. He’s that huge. 

You almost wish he wasn’t just because you don’t think it’s fair for any man’s ego to be warranted, especially one as big as his. Though you suppose it’s fitting. 

 After a few rough strokes, he starts to play with your clit again to get you to relax a little. It works, your eyes roll and your head falls back against the mirror as the tension eases from your muscles. 

“Does it feel as good as you thought it would?” he presses. 

“B-better,” you admit.

“That’s because it wasn’t me you were hearing.”

You groan, annoyed that he still hasn’t let it go. You doubt he ever will. 

“It’s okay. I’ve thought about this too,” he confesses.

“You have?”

“Have you seen yourself?” he scoffs, “Don’t sound so surprised. I’d s-see you in the hallways, see the way you’d glare at me- fuck... who knew all this time you were right next door fantasizing about me while I fantasized about you. We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You want to tell him that you have all the time in the world to make up for it now but you can’t find the words. They’ve dissolved on your tongue and left you with only his name to repeat over and over like you’re in a trance.

“Louder,” he pleads as fucks you even faster.

“But our neighbors-”

“Fuck them,” he spits. “They already hate us because of Mingyu, let them know my name too.”

Apparently you aren’t the only jealous one between the two of you. You want to laugh but you physically can’t, too caught up in the incandescent feeling in your stomach that threatens to engulf you entirely. 

“Fuck, are you about to cum?” Wonwoo gasps, lips parting in concentration. 

You nod. “Just a little more,” you beg, “yeah, exactly like that... oh fuck-”  

“I’ve got you,” he assures you. “Let go, I’m right there with you.”

It’s surprisingly sweet of him and you think he might realize it too because he grabs your jaw and pulls you in to kiss you as you fall apart together so that he can’t say anything else. 

Once you come down, he’s the first to start putting you both back together. 

“Wanna actually take a shower now?” he asks, holding out a hand to help you down from the counter. 

Your knees wobble on your landing but Wonwoo’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders wounded-soldier style and sit you on the closed lid of the toilet.  

“Take your time,” he tells you, kneeling on the tile in front of you. 

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to stay the night? I mean you can hardly walk. There’s no way you’ll make it all the way home.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “All the way next door?” 

“Exactly! It’s better not to risk it, right?”

You chuckle. “I guess.”

Wonwoo grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you home myself in the morning. I’m a gentleman, after all. And then we can piss off your neighbors.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

[h4venpha]

⸺ baby's favorite

✦ dragon!sylus x reader contents: myth/dragon sylus, dragon baby!, fluff wc: 586 notes: scrappy and kinda sloppy but i needed girldad!sylus AND dragon!sylus, whats better than to just put them together!

“i told you to watch her while i was gone.” 

“and i am watching her.” sylus hums lightly, ignoring the slight tone of annoyance in your voice as he dangles their rowdy daughter by her leg. he’s laying down with one arm propped to hold his head up with the tip of his long tail wrapped around her small, chubby ankle. regardless that his tail was covered in hard, jagged scales, their daughter, dove, squeals happily. sylus playfully swings her side to side, smiling when her loud giggles echoes throougout the cave.

ever since their daughter was born, their little cave seemed to glow a little bit brighter. warm, comforting, and baby proof. soft leather pads replacing the hoards of gold and jewels, candle lights burning brightly whereas the only source of light was once the gap above for the sun to shine through. you truly try your best to make this cave safe and sound for your daughter… except things become difficult whenever you get reminded where half of her blood comes from. 

dove was a hybrid, yet… looked like an exact copy of her father. silver hair, black scales, ruby red eyes, and recently, tiny black wings have sprouted from her back, along with an uncontrollable tail that knocks down everything in its path. you can only handle her when she’s willingly. nowadays, sylus has to practically wrestle her to keep her in check.

‘you’ll make her dizzy, sy.” you scold him for a second time as you set down the small basket of goods you bought from tarus city.

“i’m simply entertaining her so she doesn’t… fly off the cliff again.” sylus chuckles lightly, ignoring the way you glare at him for laughing. it’s been twice now that dove has somehow rolled herself off the cliff. small, weak wings flapping for a moment before is sylus swooping in and catching her mid air. he swears up and down that it’s always accidents, but you can’t help but think sylus just wants her to be able to fly with him and see her spread her wings.

must be the dragon in her that makes her so rowdy and eager to run off with him. makes sense considering her father is the only one who can truly handle her.

you come over and quickly turn your daughter right side up, pulling her from the grasp of his tail. dove whines softly, complaining as she makes grabby hands for sylus. 

“no no no, your daddy is a bad influence.” you say in a faux serious tone, wagging your face in front of dove’s tiny face. her red eyes track your finger before pouting, as if she understood your words.

“bad influence?” sylus repeats, coming behind you to look over your shoulder at her. “mommy doesn’t like when you have fun with me, isn’t that right?” he scoffs, smugly smirking when dove immediately lets go of your finger and makes grabby hands towards him instead.

you don’t even have time to comment before he suddenly reaches in to take dove out of your arms. sylus throws the tiny dragon baby into the air, smiling when she bursts into a fit of giggles. you watch with a defaeted smile as he spins and throws her around, letting her float her way back down, baby wings fluttering.

“look, can mommy make you laugh like this?” sylus taunts playfully, “hm i don’t think so.” his ruby eyes flicking from dove to you as her laughter warms the cave a little.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 3)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: fluff, smut this is the last part so I hope you enjoy it!!

part 2

It would be an understatement to say that Charles was over the moon when you and Louise showed up in the paddock on the race day. He was so delighted and happy that he had a hard time hiding it, and everyone present could see it.

He didn't separate from Lou, and he thanked you several times for bringing her and for coming with her telling you how much that meant to him.

Of course, you both attracted the attention of all the media, knowing that tomorrow the main news on the internet will be how Charles' ex-girlfriend appeared with his daughter in the paddock for the first time after a full year since the breakup.

The cameras were everywhere, but having learned from previous experiences, you decided to ignore them and pretend they didn't exist. All you were focused on was giving your daughter an unforgettable weekend and supporting Charles as well.

Lou got hungry so you and Charles decided to get her something to eat at the Ferrari hospitality. Lou didn't know what she wanted to eat, so Charles decided to leave his things at your table, including his phone, and said he would go with her to the restaurant to choose. While Lou went with Charles, you sat down at the table and scrolled through your phone waiting for them to come back.

“Am I seeing things or is it really y/n?” A very familiar voice asked you, making you look up from your phone.

“Carlos!” You smiled from ear to ear as you stand up to hug him.

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen you in the paddock. How come you’re here?” He asks curiously.

“Lou had a hard time accepting that she wouldn't be spending this weekend with her dad, so...yeah, here we are.”

“Oh man, he’s gonna beat my ass on the track today..” Carlos says shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little unsure of what he’s talking about.

“He always gives 110% on the track when Lou is there to support him, I can only imagine what it’ll be like today when you are there too.”

The two of you started catching up talking about what was new in your lives, what wasn't, and so on, until Carlos commented on Charles and Lou's relationship, saying that he really loves spending time with her and that he talks about her nonstop.

“She loves spending time with him too, he is her soulmate I’m sure.” You commented.

“And what about you? Is he your soulmate too?” Carlos asked catching you off guard.

Both you and Charles were close to Carlos and he pretty much knew everything about you and your relationship. He was also very angry with you when you broke up because he thought it was a bad decision and that you should have worked on your relationship and not give up on it so easily.

“I-I..” As you were trying to think of an answer to his question, at that very moment the screen of Charles's phone, which he had left on the table in front of you, lit up.

What caught your attention wasn't the notification he received, but your eyes got stuck on the wallpaper on his lock screen. It was a picture of you and Lou that Charles had taken shortly after you had given birth and came home from the hospital. You were lying on the bed and Lou was lying on your chest while you kissed her head.

It was a picture that was very dear to both you and Charles, and he had it as his wallpaper since the day he took it, and what surprised you the most was that he still had it to this day. Even though you were no longer together, he never changed it.

Carlos noticed what you were staring at and he basically took it as an answer to his question although he had already knew it.

“Uncle Carloss!!” Lou screamed with her mouth full of pizza as Charles carried her in his arms over to the table where Carlos and you were sitting.

“Hola, hermosa! Did you get hungry?” Carlos chuckled squeezing her cheek.

“Out of all the possible foods you can think of, my baby chose pizza.” Charles laughed sitting her down on the chair next to you.

You were completely lost in your thoughts and didn't even pay attention what the three of them were talking about. All you could think about was the picture you saw on Charles's phone and how you were getting closer to confessing your still deeply held feelings for him.

And of course today was just as Carlos said it would be. Not only did Charles beat Carlos’ ass on the track, but he also beat all the other drivers by proudly and deservedly taking P1. He couldn't let the win slip through his fingers in front of the two most important people in his life so he fought extra hard for it today.

When it was time to celebrate, your eyes filled with tears at how proud you were of him. First he celebrated with the team, then his eyes searched for you and Lou.

“You wanna congratulate daddy, baby?” You asked her and she nodded excitedly.

You pushed your way towards Charles with her in your arms and when you reached him he instantly hugged her and kissed her on the forehead.

“Good job, daddy!” She said.

“Thank you, baby. This one was for you.” He told her kissing her once again.

“Congratulations, Charles. We’re really proud of you.” You say softly smiling at him tears threatening to run down your cheeks.

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for being here.” He said looking deep into your eyes.

The cameras went crazy over your family moment, closely capturing every interaction between you. It won't be until the next day when you see one of the taken photos of the two of you that it will become completely clear to you how your eyes are betraying you and showing how deeply and obviously in love you are with each other.

When the day was coming to an end, you didn't stay in the paddock any longer, but immediately got on the plane and flew to Monaco, all three of you together. Lou was completely exhausted and when you landed she was already asleep. Charles didn't offer but instead insisted on driving you to your apartment no matter how tired he was.

Charles, carefully so as not to wake her, carried her in his arms into her room and put her to bed. He kissed her goodnight before closing the door and going into the living room thinking he would say goodnight to you too.

“She’s sleeping like a log.” Charles chuckles quietly as he stands in front of you.

“Poor thing, she was so tired. She passed out as soon as we sat in the plane.”

“But I'm glad you came. Both of you. It really meant a lot to me to have you there.”

“I’m glad too. We had a lot of fun. Maybe we can come again sometime.” You say making him smile.

“Anytime you want” He says feeling that the conversation is slowly coming to an end. He wants to continue it so bad, but he knows that both of you are tired and with a heavy heart he has to leave, even though he would rather lie in bed with you now and hold you close to him all night.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now. It’s getting really late.” He says running his hand nervously through his hair while you bite the inside of your cheek so desperately wanting him to ask you if he can stay. “See you soon, yeah? Good night”

Before he turns around to head for the door, you decide that enough is enough. There have been so many obvious signs by now that it's not over between you and that you're still madly in love with each other that you don't want to waste another second being stubborn, but rather surrender to the moment and finally enjoy it.

“Or you can stay the night here..you know..i-if you want to” You blurt out stuttering the last part.

He turns slowly towards you. His expression is unreadable until he places his hands on your cheeks and asks you “Do you want me to stay?”

Without much hesitation, you nod your head and quietly say “I do.”

Initially, it was as if you were afraid to approach each other, as if you were afraid of each other's reaction even though both of you were hoping that the desire was mutual. Then his lips slowly and cautiously began coming closer and closer to yours.

At first, your lips just brushed, pulling back a little, and then they connected into a long, passionate and deep kiss that you both had been eagerly waiting for.

You felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you let out deep breaths in relief you didn't even know you were holding in.

Things were moving quickly and you didn't waste any time getting to your bedroom. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he picked you up and without breaking the kiss, carried you into the room and laid you down on the bed.

Exhaustion was long forgotten when you took each other's clothes off and started kissing every part of each other’s body.

“I missed you, I missed you so much you don’t even know” He said into the kiss, barely catching his breath from the intense excitement he felt.

“I missed you too, Charles” You half whisper as he pushes into you and one tear rolls down the side of your face.

It felt so good. He felt so good inside you, fit so perfectly like he was made for you. He wanted to make love to you, to show you how much he cares about you so he kept going on and on making your legs shake so many times throughout the night, kissing every inch of your body, pulling you closer to him to calm you down, breathing in your scent and getting lost in your eyes.

“I’m gonna cum, baby” His voice trembled as he rested his forehead against yours and pulled his cock out of you cumming all over your stomach, hands free, then pushing himself back in and wincing.

You fell asleep with him holding you close all night. His arms were hugging you so tightly, as if he was afraid that if he let go even just for a second, he would wake up and it would all be just a dream.

The morning sun's rays didn't let you sleep past eight, so you spontaneously woke up together still in the same position you fell asleep in.

“Good morning ma cherie” He said with a kiss to your lips.

“Morning baby” You smiled caressing his cheek with your thumb. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm, very well” He murmurs against your skin. “And you?”

“Me too. I haven't slept this peacefully in a long time.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yeah” You glance at the clock out of the corner of your eye and see that it's almost time for Lou to wake up. “Oh shit, Charles you need to leave, Lou is about to wake up” You say nervously, which completely confuses Charles.

“What? What do you mean I need to leave? Why can’t she know that I’m here?”

“It's not that she can’t know it’s just that I want us to take it slow this time. I'm afraid of screwing this up because it feels so good and so right and I don't know if I could handle us hurting each other again.” You sigh as you explain your reasons to him. “And most of all, I don't want to break Lou's heart.”

He pauses for a moment to think about what you just said and realizes that it makes sense and that you're right. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry we’ll take things slow to make it right this time.” After all, he just wants to fulfill all your wishes and wants to make you happy with whatever you want. “So when do I get to see you again?” He asks and you laugh at his silly question. “What?” He asks confused.

“It's funny that you ask me that. You can see us whenever you want. It's just for a short time until we see how things develop and then of course we'll live together again.”

“I can’t wait for that.”

Soon he got out of the bed and got dressed. He kissed you barely breaking away from you before heading out of the bedroom. The door to Lou's room was open and so he walked slowly on his tiptoes, not wanting to wake her up.

But he realized that was in vain when, passing by her room, he heard “Daddy?!” He stopped in his tracks, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing quietly under his breath.

She’d already seen him and he couldn't leave now or get out of the situation in any way, so he decided to go into her room and say good morning to her.

“Hey, baby. Good morning”

“What are you doing here?! Did you sleep here?!” She didn't know what to ask him first from how happy she was that it was morning and he was there.

When the two of them appeared at your bedroom door, it was clear to both you and Charles that from that moment on, you were all living together again.

“Hi there” Charles said holding her in his arms and looking at you.

You didn't say anything, you just covered your face with your hands and started laughing before you uncovered the quilt and said "come here, both of you"

@charlesgirl16 @aleatorio1234 @teamnovalak @watermelonslut @diaryofarandomkid @sunny44 @tempo-rary-fix @ggaslyp1 @janeh22 @seonghwaexile @seasonswinter @itgirlofthecenturysposts @ricciardosredbull @amz824 @sarx164 @seonghwaexile @landossainz @little-miss-naill @taygrls @sturmatt @myescapefromthislife @stylesmoonlight12 @st4rgirl-ellie @eloriis @sillyfreakfanparty @rebelliousneferut @kahhorri @hard4ndsoft @weekendlusting

[babydipper]

“How did you know how to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Stitch me up.”

“It's just sewing.”

“And the IV?”

Jazz’s mouth opens, then closes as she also closes her eyes. He lets her think about the answer, a good enough lie. “A friend had a doctor phase a few years ago. We would try to do a lot of things on fake skin before she moved on to tattooing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I am telling the truth. Look, I had- I had a weird childhood, so sometimes I had to improvise.”

“No, I believe you,” he says, and he means it. It's so stupid she couldn't make it up. There's also a part of his still light-headed brain that can translate weird childhood and improvise into what it truly means. Maybe she has lied, but not about the thing he thought she would, and it counts for something. The wind on the roof gives him shivers. “Why would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Help me out. It's none of your business.”

Jazz watches him attentively and there's something about it that makes his muscles tense, body fully ready to jump. She tilts her head just slightly. “We live together,” she points out as if it explains everything. As always, it doesn't. Then she bites her lip. “I- I have never had anyone to catch me if I fall. I guessed you don't have anyone like this either.”

It hits him harder than the fucking bullet last night. “You think I would catch you.”

Jazz smiles and it's full of mischief. Then, like a fucking psycho she is, she leans back out the edge of the building.

He has her arm in an iron grip before he can think about it and pulls so hard, she stumbles forward and falls onto him, laughing, bouncing back like a tennis ball. “Are you fucking insane?”

Jazz just laughs harder, her forehead on Jason's chest, her arm still firmly kept in his hand. “Now we both know you would catch me.”

“You are so full of shit,” he grumbles, but the vibration on his skin manages to calm his heart back to a rational tempo. “You could have died.” It makes her burst out into a fit of giggles. “I got shot last night, you dipshit, I wouldn't be able to jump after you.” Not to mention the lack of proper equipment.

“Sorry I needed an outlet after literally saving your ass.”

Jason closes his eyes, trying to contain the laughter, “I will push you.” The wound was on his inner thigh, not his ass, so she can fuck right off for all he cares.

“I'd like to see you try,” she bites back. “You should have this checked out, by the way. Are you even vaccinated?”

“No need to.”

“I'll drive,” she gets off him, deaf to anything he says, and starts to climb down.

Jason follows. She doesn't even know the address. “Like hell, you will.” The story on AO3