#makeup course center
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mdilip948 · 1 year ago
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Vlcc Institute - Makeup Faculty Development Program
Duration: 519 Hrs. Course Content: Makeup course: Absolute Makeup Artist Program – 204 hrs. Skin Fundamentals History and Theory of Makeup Infrastructure of Makeup room Common Products Used for All Types of Makeup Brush theory Color Theory Corrective Makeup theory Base application theory Eye and Lip Makeup application theory Face chart making Day Self Makeup Day party Makeup No-Makeup look Evening Makeup Engagement Makeup Cocktail Makeup Haldi/Mehendi Makeup Bridal Bindi designing Indian traditional bridal Makeup. Royal Bridal Makeup Reception Make-up Groom Make-up Six yards of Elegance Certificate Course in Semi Permanent Makeup – 48 hrs. MICROBLADING Fundamentals of Microblading Face symmetry and proportion Client Consultation Demo of Eyebrow correction with Microblading SPMU (Eyebrow, Eyeliner & lip Blush) Demo of Semi permanent pixel Eyebrows Demo of semi-permanent eyeliner Demo of semi-permanent lip blush & Theory of correction in semi-permanent makeup Certificate in Eyelash Artistry – 30 hrs. Health and safety Anatomy and physiology Consultation practices Classic eyelash extension Pre- made Volume Lashes (2D /3D) Textured and Colored Lashes Volume Fan Making & Application (2D /3D) Career Pathways- Educator, Trainer, Makeup artist, Product advisor, Freelancer makeup artist with fashion magazines or fashion photographer, wedding photographer media hubs, event management companies, trainers Finishing School Program - 237 Hrs. Finishing school training – 165 Hrs. Platform Skill for Beauty and Wellness – 72 Hrs.
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crustaceousfaggot · 1 year ago
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moonlightfoxs-cantina · 4 months ago
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Missed my first lab of the semester today and now I have to go all the way an hour to campus tomorrow on a Saturday to makeup this 4 hr lab that I missed 😭😭😭
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pipsdelhi62 · 7 months ago
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What are the best fundamentals in digital marketing?
Understanding the fundamentals of digital marketing is crucial for anyone looking to make a significant impact in this dynamic field. At PIPS Delhi, the Premier Institute for Professional Studies on Devli Road, New Delhi, we offer the best classes to help you unlock your potential as a candidate for makeup learning classes and other professional courses. For more information, you can call us at +91-9650200473. PIPS Delhi provides 100% placements in more than 100 organizations, ensuring that our students have access to excellent job opportunities. As a newly opened institute, we are dedicated to helping you convert your bigger dreams into reality.
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Here are the best fundamentals in digital marketing that you should focus on to build a strong foundation:
1. Search Engine Optimization (SEO)
SEO is the process of optimizing your website to rank higher in search engine results pages (SERPs). It involves both on-page and off-page techniques. Key aspects of SEO include:
Keyword Research: Identifying the terms your target audience is searching for.
On-Page SEO: Optimizing individual web pages to rank higher and earn more relevant traffic. This includes meta tags, headings, and content optimization.
Off-Page SEO: Building backlinks from other reputable websites to improve your site's authority.
Technical SEO: Ensuring your website is crawlable and indexable by search engines, with a focus on site speed, mobile-friendliness, and secure connections (HTTPS).
2. Content Marketing
Content marketing involves creating and distributing valuable, relevant, and consistent content to attract and engage a clearly defined audience. Key components include:
Blogging: Writing articles that provide value to your audience and improve your SEO.
Video Content: Creating engaging videos for platforms like YouTube and social media.
Infographics: Using visual content to convey complex information quickly and clearly.
Ebooks and Whitepapers: Providing in-depth information on a particular topic to establish authority and generate leads.
3. Social Media Marketing
Social media marketing involves promoting your content and engaging with your audience on social media platforms. Key strategies include:
Platform Selection: Choosing the right platforms (e.g., Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn) based on your target audience.
Content Strategy: Developing a consistent posting schedule with varied content types (e.g., posts, stories, live videos).
Engagement: Interacting with your audience through comments, messages, and social media groups.
Paid Advertising: Utilizing social media ads to reach a larger and more targeted audience.
4. Pay-Per-Click (PPC) Advertising
PPC advertising allows you to place ads on search engines and other platforms, paying only when someone clicks on your ad. Key aspects include:
Google Ads: Creating and managing ads on Google's search and display networks.
Keyword Bidding: Selecting and bidding on relevant keywords to ensure your ads appear for the right searches.
Ad Copy: Writing compelling ad copy that encourages clicks.
Landing Pages: Creating optimized landing pages that convert visitors into leads or customers.
5. Email Marketing
Email marketing involves sending targeted emails to your audience to promote your products or services. Key elements include:
List Building: Growing your email list with high-quality subscribers.
Segmentation: Dividing your email list into segments based on demographics, behavior, or interests.
Personalization: Crafting personalized email messages that resonate with your audience.
Automation: Setting up automated email sequences for welcome series, cart abandonment, and follow-ups.
6. Analytics and Data Analysis
Understanding and analyzing your data is crucial for measuring the success of your digital marketing efforts and making informed decisions. Key tools and techniques include:
Google Analytics: Tracking and analyzing website traffic and user behavior.
Conversion Tracking: Measuring the effectiveness of your marketing campaigns in driving desired actions.
A/B Testing: Experimenting with different versions of your content or ads to determine what works best.
Reporting: Creating regular reports to track performance and identify areas for improvement.
7. Conversion Rate Optimization (CRO)
CRO involves optimizing your website and marketing efforts to increase the percentage of visitors who take a desired action. Key strategies include:
User Experience (UX) Design: Ensuring your website is easy to navigate and provides a positive user experience.
Call-to-Action (CTA): Creating clear and compelling CTAs that guide users toward conversion.
Landing Page Optimization: Designing landing pages that are focused on a single goal and provide all the necessary information for conversion.
Analytics and Feedback: Using data and user feedback to continuously improve your conversion rates.
8. Mobile Marketing
With the increasing use of smartphones, mobile marketing has become essential. Key tactics include:
Responsive Design: Ensuring your website is mobile-friendly and provides a seamless experience across devices.
SMS Marketing: Sending targeted messages directly to your audience's mobile devices.
Mobile Apps: Developing and promoting mobile apps that provide value to your users.
Location-Based Marketing: Using geolocation data to deliver personalized messages and offers.
9. Influencer Marketing
Influencer marketing involves partnering with influential individuals in your industry to promote your products or services. Key steps include:
Identifying Influencers: Finding influencers who align with your brand values and have a strong following.
Building Relationships: Establishing and nurturing relationships with influencers.
Campaign Planning: Developing and executing influencer marketing campaigns that achieve your goals.
Measuring ROI: Tracking the performance of your influencer campaigns and measuring their impact.
10. Affiliate Marketing
Affiliate marketing involves partnering with affiliates who promote your products or services in exchange for a commission. Key components include:
Affiliate Programs: Setting up and managing an affiliate program.
Affiliate Recruitment: Finding and recruiting high-quality affiliates.
Commission Structures: Establishing fair and attractive commission structures.
Tracking and Reporting: Monitoring affiliate performance and ensuring accurate tracking and reporting.
Conclusion
Mastering these digital marketing fundamentals is essential for anyone looking to succeed in the digital landscape. At PIPS Delhi, we offer comprehensive digital marketing classes that cover all these areas and more. Our courses are designed to provide you with the knowledge, skills, and practical experience needed to excel in your digital marketing career. With experienced faculty, hands-on training, and 100% placement assistance, PIPS Delhi is the ideal choice for unlocking your potential in digital marketing. For more information, call us at +91-9650200473 and take the first step toward converting your bigger dreams into reality.
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roturo · 1 year ago
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HOW THEY FUCK YOU IN PUBLIC.
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HOW JJK MEN FUCK YOU IN PUBLIC. (semi public.)
warnings: semi-public sex, public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, exhibitionism, fingering, blowjob, use of vibrators, jealousy, marking, edging, dacryphilia, degradation kink, praise kink. reblogs are appreciated:)
gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, megumi fushiguro, sukuna & yuuji itadori.
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Gojo Satoru:
This man will make it obvious. He’s not embarrassed, in fact, he would be aroused by it. Noticing people giving the both of you stares, them noticing the hickeys on your neck, the messy makeup, it’s too much for him. Makes him hard again.
And it would happen at the most random times.
Mostly because he gets jealous, this man gets jealous because of everything. He doesn’t trust the other men around you. So that’s why he likes to show what’s his.
He’s more of taking the both of you to the restroom and fuck rather than a vibrator. Oh, and he loves teasing your legs with his fingers near your entrance, your trembling voice, hot face, making his pants get tighter and tighter.
“You like that. Don't you? Slut. Keep that pretty mouth of yours shut if you don’t want other to know how good i’m fucking your pussy right now.” You couldn’t contain your moans, not even covering your mouth helps. It was too much, he was too much.
“Don’t tell me you’re into that? Of course you’re into that. You fucking whore. I’ll make sure for everyone to know how good you get fucked. This pussy is mine.”
Geto Suguru:
This man is elegant. Uses vibrators, and fucks you in public as a punishment. He might not seem like it, but I swear this man is a JEALOUS man. Loves hanging out with others, sitting at the table while you’re by his side, hands down the table, control in hand and shakily sound coming out of you.
He would have a box of vibrators with different sizes, colors, and levels, just for this time of occasion or whenever he’s in the mood to just fuck with you.
Because he loves that, not only because he gets yards seeing you angry at him, but because of how turned on he gets while reclaiming what’s his.
He’s discreet about it, but makes it clear for you to never disobey him or look in direction towards another man.
“Am I going to fast baby?” He says in your ear, in a slow seductive low voice. Friends talking in front of the both of you, like nothing is happening down the table. “Aw, we’ll that’s so fucking sad for you, you decided to act like a big girl with other men, then take it like one.” He says while leveling up the vibrator, his hand resting on your thigh, looking happily at his friends and laughing at whatever they were talking about.
This was going to be a long day.
Nanami Kento:
He’s not the kind to fuck in public.
Prefers doing it in private, having his time, and enjoying it.
But when you get a little bit too bratty for his liking, he would snicker his legs(shoes) down the table to your center. Slightly moving it through your panties and clit, touching it with the point part of his shoe.
Edging you for release, he would retreat his shoe just in time for you not to cum. Asking the waitress for some water.
But when you get a little bit TOO bratty for his PATIENCE, he wouldn’t say a word. And that’s how you know you fucked up. Wouldn’t care if someone watched the both of you, he makes the two of you enter the restroom and fuck the soul out of you.
“You fucking slut. Couldn’t wait some hours to get fucked huh?” One of his arms wrapped around your waist, while his free hand rests on your neck. “And you need to have it right now. Like the fucking brat you are.”
Toji Fushiguro:
This man wouldn’t care. Not even like Gojo, he would make it SO obvious it becomes uncomfortable for the people around you watching the both of you having… intimacy.
His fingers would roam around your skirt/dress, making it easier for him to touch you, and shamelessly get under it. Touching the wet patch forming on your center, chuckling to himself. He loves knowing he has this type of power over you.
He would finger you to the max, his arm visibly shaking so you could get some pleasure, all while maintaining a smile like he’s overstimulating your core.
“I want to fuck you so badly.” He says while rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Too bad your fucking my fingers right now. I would love to fuck you infront of all this people. Such a piece of art.” A specific curl of his finger was enough for you to reach your climax. Trying to moan the lowest as possible to not bring any more attention, would be in vain, because he would shamelessly get his fingers out and insert them inside his mouth to lick your liquids off.
Megumi Fushiguro:
He’s not into it. Actually, you initiate it. By teasing him in public, touching him by ‘accident’ near his crotch. Showing a little bit more of your thigh to him, being all touchy.
But he’s a hard man to break, so you would get bored and annoyed easily. So that’s why you try to make him jealous.
And he won’t show it, but inside he’s figuring his own shadows to not fucking take you right there and erase that smirk of yours.
Taking advantage of you being way too busy trying to claim his attention while flirting with Yuuji, he went near the both of you and placed his hand on the back of your waist. Plastering a small smile on his face.
Yuuji noticed in less than a second he was mad. His hand traveled down your figure to your ass, your eyes widening looking back at Yuuji who was as shocked as you.
He gave a small almost visible smack, which caught you by surprise and made you squeak at the surprise. Feeling your face heated up, while Yuuji scratches the back of his neck. “Uhh…” He looks down at his phone, thanking god he has a way of leaving this situation. “Gojo-Sensei is calling me. Talk to you later guys!”
He sprinted as fast as possible towards the door, leaving the both of you alone. Wasting no time he laid you down on a desk and started taking your panties off and unbuckling his pants.
“You fucking whore. Can’t get enough of a cock you want another one huh?” He said while thrusts, a phone on his hand recording your fucked uo faces, tears dried down your cheeks. Messy moans and whines coming out of your mouth while he records the entrance where his cock appears and disappears inside of you.
The next day, he would ask Yuuji to meet him alone and show him the video. Threatening him to never let himself be that touchy with you.
Sukuna & Yuuji:
This would be more of a threesome tbh, this isn’t a lot like “public sex”, but i’ll start with explicit comments coming out of Yuuji thanks to a sukuna mouth appearing on his cheek. Saying how good your ass looked in that dress, saying how he wants to rip it apart and fuck you infront of everyone. Calling Yuuji a virgin and saying he has the same thoughts of you.
Yuuji would be bright red, looking at his classmates who were shocked and laughing at him at the remarks of Sukuna.
So that’s how you ended up in his room. Someway Sukuna and Yuuji being in control at the same time, while you fuck his cock in your mouth and ride his feet which has a mouth on it. Sucking your clit and tongue circling your entrance, until he appears with another arm and fingers you.
“Nn-ngh~ Don’t stop! You’re such a good girl…” Yuuji said while bobbing your head with his hand on top of your head. “She’s more of a brat. She’s teasing a lot, stop with that.” Sukuna said, curling his fingers just right, making you moan with his cock inside of you. Sending vibrations which made Yuuji moan and release inside of you. “Step back kiddo, it’s my turn to fuck with her.”
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melmedardaapologist · 12 days ago
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with arcane’s focus on visual elements, something that’s been nagging on me lately is mel medarda’s final design and why it compounds the tragedy of her story:
firstly, when we see mel in her flashback, she’s already wearing her significant white/gold, but tempered with blue—noticeably missing her mother’s greys and reds, even then, showing her idealogical differences
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then in piltover, we see mel as her own self-actualization—all white and gold and black, colors connected to power, and with an elegant cut that still places her slightly apart from piltover fashion. it shows her place as a non-combatant (long skirt) and someone privileged (the pure white) and wealthy (the gold. so much gold.). this is mel medarda at the pinnacle she’s worked so hard to achieve—it’s elegant because she is elegant
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which of course becomes subverted when we do see the gold accessories taken away and the white dirtied when she’s kidnapped by the black rose—this is the first and only time we see mel in actual disarray, and it shows how vulnerable she is when she’s outside the political sphere
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and after her transformation, we have this costume change, where aside from the increased gold (now representing magical ability instead of just wealth), we have mel in a a skin-tight catsuit style getup, allowing for greater movement, and her hair done in micro-braids in a style that won’t affect her center of gravity. at first, when i was watching, i was confused (especially about the hair), but then i realized—
this isn’t mel dressing herself to reflect a change, this is leblanc’s vision of mel, where power is swiftness and she is markedly different than others in a way that is now impossible to ignore
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and she tries to return to her previous sense of self with the white hood, going back to a trademark of her style, but notably this is an outfit worn to conceal, not reveal and show off like her previous iconic dress, and her change is visibly with even just the hood off
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and when mel accepts black rose’s help and betrays them and her mother dies, the white hood disappears—try as she might, she cannot go back to who she was, and she stands before noxians as a mage and mother-killer and a wolf, something dangerous
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and then, when we see mel leaving piltover, she’s wearing nothing of her original self, but a combination of black rose’s getup and her mother’s colors. there is almost nothing of “mel” in this outfit, as if she’s been subsumed by these two identities—noxian and mage
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even her makeup has shifted, with the red line under her eyes and the gold in her lower lip directly copying her mother
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this isn’t a mel who’s realized herself in a new identity. this is a mel who, when faced with the enormous loss of her brother, mother, lover and former identity, has fallen into the definitions and roles that were presented to her, and who is now primed to continue the cycles started by her predecessors
and moving on from arcane, i think it would be fascinating to see mel in one of the newer shows to see how she grapples with this and if she either falls back into tradition and dooms herself, or if she’s able to break free and reforge her identity on her own terms
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vapekingg · 6 months ago
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You and Eddie have this running joke.
Or at least it started as a joke.
Once Corroded Coffin started to take off, it was hard to not get jealous. All those pretty girls throwing themselves at him at every show. They'd wait at the merch table or near the back door where the band smokes their cigarettes. Even with you hanging off of his arm, they were relentless.
So Eddie started finding you before they could find him.
You liked being in the crowd during their sets. Some of the guys' girlfriends would sit sidestage, some of them would stay in the green room, but you preferred the energy of the show. Eddie always made sure you were front row, center stage. That way he could always find you.
He made a big deal out of it, too. Pointing you out every night during their last song and handing you a VIP laminate that would get you backstage. To all of these new faces, you were just another face in the crowd. It became a thing amongst their fans. Who would be the lucky girl tonight?
But it was always you.
Because you're his favorite groupie, aren't you?
That's what Corroded Coffin's security team started calling you. Jokingly, of course. But it's carried over.
"You know why you're my favorite fucking groupie?" Eddie hisses close to your face.
You can't respond. He knows you can't respond. If it weren't for both of his hands wrapped around your throat, then because he's got your legs folded up against your chest with your ankles next to his ears. Eddie's thrusts are relentless, his cock punching into your guts with brutality, and you can't make a fucking sound.
"Because you can fucking take it," he continues, punctuating the last two words with particularly rough assaults.
Your face is getting warm from the blood pooling in your head. Your brain is pounding in your temples with each stroke of his thick cock against your slick inner walls. You need to scream, but the wail trapped in your lungs sits right below Eddie's fists at the base of your throat.
"Oh, you have something to say? Didn't lose your voice screaming my name all night?" His voice is beginning to sound far off beneath the sound of your own heart thumping in your ears. "Fuck, you feel good. Squeezing my cock, baby. Don't worry, I'm gonna let you sing."
Your throat is released and Eddie's fingers slide beneath your head, weaving into your hair. A rush of air enters your lungs, and then you hear your own foul sounds.
The sound of begging, of pleading, of crying for him to never stop, to give you more.
"Please, Eddie. Please, harder, harder, harder!" Are the only words you can remember.
And you expect Eddie to mock you. He usually does, and it's usually the final nail in your coffin. What you don't expect is the tightening of his ringed fingers against your roots. He holds your head in place and spits on your face, silencing you for only a moment.
"You know this is when you're the prettiest?" Eddie says between gritted teeth.
With the blood flowing back to your brain, you begin to hear everything again. His little grunts and moans hidden by heavy breathing, the slapping of his sweat slick skin against yours, the creaking of his tour bus bunk bed. It all comes together like some sort of symphony of filth.
"When you're all fucked out. Makeup fucked, sweaty, my spit dripping down your face. You'll be even prettier with my cum leaking out of this pussy."
Your back arches into him at the mention of Eddie filling you up. He doesn't do it often. You're careful most of the time. But on special occasions... the risk is worth it.
Eddie laughs at your response, his cock pumping into your cunt faster.
"That what you want? Me to fill you up?" He asks mockingly.
That knot in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie's hips rut against your sensitive clit, stroking it in time with each thrust.
"Then everyone will know you're my favorite groupie, huh?"
Eddie's hips hit your core, his cock buried to the hilt, and he grinds his waist against your clit. Stars dot your vision. Every atom in your body shivers on the edge of oblivion.
"Won't they?"
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sreejyothi · 1 year ago
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theetherealbloom · 2 months ago
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Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever
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Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.
Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”
I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T
Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler
gif by @a7estrellas
→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY
The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  
You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  
“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  
“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  
He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  
“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  
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The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  
Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  
Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  
Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  
“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  
You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  
Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  
“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  
Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  
“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  
“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET
The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.
Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.
“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.
Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.
You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.
“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”
Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”
Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”
“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  
Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  
“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  
“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  
“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”
Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  
“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  
Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  
You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  
Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  
“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”
“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  
“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.
You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.
“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”
“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”
Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”
“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  
Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  
Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”
Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  
“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  
“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  
“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  
The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.
You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.
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THE NEXT DAY
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  
Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  
His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  
“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  
“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  
It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  
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The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  
“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  
Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  
Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  
Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  
Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  
You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  
Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  
“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  
Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  
Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  
“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  
“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  
He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  
The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  
Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  
You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  
“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  
Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  
“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  
Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  
Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  
Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  
Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  
You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  
The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  
Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  
“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  
Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  
“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  
Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  
He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  
“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  
“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  
“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  
Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  
“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  
Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  
“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  
The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  
“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  
“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  
As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  
“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  
“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  
“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  
“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  
Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  
“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  
Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  
“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  
The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  
As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  
When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  
You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  
Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 
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L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING
The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 
“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”
You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”
“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”
And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 
“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.
“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 
“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”
Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.
“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”
Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.
“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 
Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”
You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”
He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”
There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 
This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 
“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”
You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”
“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”
His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”
Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”
You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.
Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 
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Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  
“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  
You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  
“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  
Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  
You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  
He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  
“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  
His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  
“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  
When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  
“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  
“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  
The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  
The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.
A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  
“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  
Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  
“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  
“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  
Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  
Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  
Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  
“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  
Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  
“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  
He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  
You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  
Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  
You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  
Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  
You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  
“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  
You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  
“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  
Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  
Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  
The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  
Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  
Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  
The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  
Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  
In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.
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pleaselmhau · 3 months ago
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You knew Ghost wouldn’t go out of his way for Halloween, he barely even realizes the holidays happened when they passed. But you were determined to show him how fun Halloween can be by combining it with his favorite thing fucking you you.
When you handed him a wolf costume he nearly asked if you lost your goddamn mind. Though with a few many pleas and sweet looks he caved somewhat. You had gotten him a ridiculous set, but the look he gave the package and the muttered “fucking hell,” had you knowing you were not gonna get a tail tied around his waist. No matter how funny it would be to chase the big guy around trying to tie it on. So you settle for letting him wear his combat uniform, mask and all, and just the wolf ears. It’s not much but it does the trick. “Wait here,” you chime sweetly before scampering off to go put on your own costume.
You felt nervous under his piercing gaze, waiting for him to say anything, “well…?” You finally cave, needing to know what he was thinking behind those stoic eyes. His eyes trail over your bunny costume in full. The full white outfit, the thigh highs, the floppy bunny ears on either side of your head held in place by a headband, the way you did your makeup to make you’re eyes look bigger and made your nose pink. “It’s… cute.” He finally says. His brows raise just a bit as his eyes meet yours again. He’s standing on the opposite end of the hallway, having gotten bored of waiting and walked out of the bedroom just in time to see you coming out of the bathroom. He looks intimidating, standing there nearly blending into he shadows, two pointed ears on the top of his head and skull mask staring right back at you.
“You get it? Like you’re the wolf and I’m the bunny, we’re like a pair.” You add on, waiting for any real reaction really. His hands shift to the walls surrounding on either side of him, palms pressing flat against the hard surface. “Mhm,” he hums, still giving muted responses. “So like-..” you stammer out, but are cut off by him. “Well go on then, little rabbit, hop along.” Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment before you see him shifting his stance, getting ready. So he did know what you wanted. You suck in a sharp breath before swiveling around and taking off away from him. His hands, flat against the wall push off as he takes off after you.
To make the sharp turn faster he just slides right into the wall with a loud thud from how fast he took off and it startled the shit out of you. Of course you knew what he was doing, chasing you, but you didn’t realize how hard he would go. It makes you redouble your efforts, letting out a gasp as your socked feet press harder into the hardwood. Using your hand on the wall to slide around the next corner. You can hear his heavy footsteps behind you, the sound going quiet as he fully slides around the corner too like he’s trying to drift on his socks. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, your lungs just starting to burn as you quickly round the coffee table, pausing with him on the other side. His chest heaves, though you get the impression he’s putting on the full show for you rather than it being from exertion, he’s very in shape from his job. It works, maybe too well. Seeing him standing there at his full height, watching you with tunnel vision, body coiled like a snake ready to strike. You try to fake him out, stepping one way then going the other but he doesn’t budge much, just a slight shift in his weight. He lowers his center of gravity, one hand reaching forward slowly to rest on the coffee table and you realize what he’s doing just in time to sprint away as his foot presses to the coffee table and he vaults right over it. You don’t get far though.
His body slams right into your back, and your heart stops for a second as you almost crash face first into the hard wall, but his hands juts out, stopping both of you right before with his other arm around your waist. He doesn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath or to calm your racing heart, before he’s pushing your front right up against the wall. His body curls around yours, flush from head to knee. Well until one of his thighs slots between yours, knee pressing against the wall as his hands roughly pull your hips back so your ass is flush with his groin and his thigh is pressed up against your sex. You can feel the cold, hard plastic of his mask press into the side of your neck, followed by the scruffy fur of his cheap wolf ears brushing against your temple as he whispers in your ear. “Caught you.”
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abtrusion · 2 months ago
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wait where are all the trans guys
Historical-anthropological research, especially the work taking place before the 21st century or outside the West, tends to focus entirely on transfeminized groups. So when reading these works it’s pretty natural to ask — wait, where are all the trans guys? This is a reasonable question with a few clear answers; this post is something quick I can point people to.
The central condition of transfeminized groups' absorption into feminist activism has been to accept a kind of symmetry with select TME groups through the understanding of trans femininity as "gender variance." Under this framework, transfeminized groups' social position can be understood as a consequence of gender variance and some abstract violation of cis norms; this was proposed by people like Susan Stryker and Emi Koyama [1], among others, and continues to structure trans inclusion today. It also fails when considering several basic aspects of these groups:
Transfeminized groups are associated with hyperspecific labor practices, most frequently sex work, but also hair styling, drag, makeup artistry, acting, and other forms of 'gender work.'
Metropolitan transfeminized groups appear in the archive as highly clustered and active groups connected with, but usually intensely split from, the masculine men they fucked.
Transfeminized groups become a kind of 'third gender' on an epistemic level; they are Known to wider society before and after “coming out” in a way that USAmerican transmasculinity has only recently vaguely approached.
Transfeminized groups are heavily clustered in labor practice, social organization, and epistemic position, although this is not universal -- certain strains of USAmerican transfemininity have become a bit more labor-agnostic in the last two decades, not-so-coincidentally alongside more general currents of gender-labor liberation. The messy strains of trans male identity recovered from the archive and from current practice tend to lack labor, social, and epistemic coherence. As Aaron Devor notes in FTM, his 1997 history of FTM men, trans men in the 20th century tended to transition out of cities and into the countryside, finding low-profile places they could exist in. These practices, and the earlier "female husband" practices described by Jen Manion, relied on the labor-agnostic nature of transitioned manhood in order to disappear from public life. Transfeminized groups, on the other hand, are categorically restricted from the main form of economic life historically available to women -- marriage. Their labor practices are heavily constrained and have almost always revolved around some form of 'gender work:' as Susan Stryker put it, you need to get people to pay you for being a trans woman. Transmasculinity pushes away feminized restrictions on labor; trans femininity is labor.
Because transfeminized identities are so often labor-identities, and because their specific brand of 'gender work' and hormonal/silicone/surgical embodiment usually requires both specialized training and community support, nearly every metropolitan center in the world developed highly centralized transfeminized groups over the course of the 20th century [2]. As Ochoa notes, this visibility is partially due to epistemic visibility (everyone knows what a trans is), partially due to group structure (people work and train each other), and partially due to the selectively visible demands of finding clients. Fledglings come in with a way of being that is always already visible to society, but changing the body to match and learning how to fully enact and slowly contest the third-gender labor-identity they've been given takes a lot of community support.
So as labor-identities, transfeminized groups tend to a level of labor/community/epistemic coherence that has no clear counterpart. The news archives we have of trans men (as seen in Manion) position them as singular and easily absorbed back into the female gestalt; the cisgender feminist/gayguy/AIDS researchers that form the bulk of historical-anthropological work saw them as unnecessary to their grand theories of gender; the communities themselves have been materially fractured and, for the groups that rise out of lesbian-feminist activism, only partially committed to their own existence. The result of all this is that there is no clear equivalent to the "transfeminized groups" of Jules-Gill Peterson; there is no symmetry to trannydom, and while additional work to unearth trans manhood in the archive remains extremely valuable, sometimes the necessary level of label-coherence and social existence just isn't there.
[1] Stryker, "My Words to Victor Frankenstein Above the Village of Chamounix: Performing Transgender Rage," Emi Koyama, "The Transfeminist Manifesto" [2] As seen in Namaste, Invisible Lives, Prieur, "Mema's House, Mexico City," Kulick, "Travesti," Newton, "Mother Camp," Ochoa, "Queen for a Day," Hegarty, "The Made-Up State," and plenty more. Most of these works came out in the late 80s and 90s due to a combination of the feminist "third gender" craze, the burgeoning field of masculinity studies, and AIDS.
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jonathanrook · 2 years ago
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i want to get my eyebrows pierced so bad but a) i've heard that the actual piercing part can give you a wicked black eye and i don't want to deal w that and b) those would be the only piercings i want that i couldn't hide if i needed to :/
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months ago
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gone wrong
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words: 500
warnings: established relationship, pranks, brief yelling, death threat but in an unserious way
you skip happily towards the truck waiting at the end of your driveway. 
you hurry to open the door, letting out a small squeal when you see rafe sat in the drivers seat.
“missed you baby.” you say, climbing in and immediately leaning across to give him a kiss, which he's more than happy to accept.
you sit down in your spot, the passenger side that you've claimed for yourself. you reach the door handle and pull it shut when rafes head snaps towards you. 
“don't slam my door!” he yells. your eyes widen as you take in his harsh tone of voice.
you melt into your seat, physically shrinking as tears cloud your vision. you let out a small mumbled apology.
“shit, baby.” rafe grabs his phone from where it was set up, thrusting it into your hands. “it was just a prank, baby.”
“oh.” you giggle softly, but rafe can tell you're still upset as he tosses his phone down, not caring about the dumb tiktok as he wraps his arms around you, ignoring the center console poking into him.
“i would never yell at you like that baby, you're my whole world.” he presses kisses to your cheek until a genuine smile stretches across your face. 
“that was not a funny prank, rafey.” you wipe underneath your eyes, making sure no tears will escape and ruin your makeup.
“how about i take you shopping after we eat, yeah? would that make up for it?” he asks, gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm, still feeling guilty.
“do you think we could also get ice cream?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him.
“anything for you.” rafe says, giving you another kiss. “and i really am sorry.”
“don't worry.” you shake your head. “ill get you back.”
-- two weeks later -- 
“thanks for driving me, rafey.” you say, looking down at your hands sheepishly. “and paying.”
“of course.” rafe chuckles. “you're my girl, i got you.”
“my legs are so soft now.” you say, knowing you have the chance now to back out of the prank, but no, you need to get him back. “and he did a great job, i swear i have no hair from the neck down.”
“he?” rafes eyebrow raises. “you didn't go to your normal girl?”
“nope.” you shake your head and shrug, like its casual. “she had another client so i went to a new guy.”
“you let a guy wax your fucking pussy?” rafes tone is slow and even, but you can tell there's a fire just beneath the surface.
“i mean, that's like his job.” you roll your eyes dramatically.
“was this guy gay?”
“no.” you look to rafe, trying to hold back your laughter. “in fact, his girlfriend just broke up with him. we talked about it a bit while he was doing my thighs.”
rafe unbuckles without another word, glad he hasn't started driving away yet.
“rafe, wait!” you reach across to grab his arm as he reaches for the door handle.
“no, im gonna kill-”
“it's a prank!” you grab your phone, showing him that you're recording. “and i got you good!”
“jesus, baby.” rafe places a hand over his chest. “you're trying to kill me.”
“sweet, sweet revenge.” you laugh maniacally.
sfw tags:
@winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0
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mrsriddlenott · 1 year ago
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~ Costume? That’s Barley Clothes.~
Theo Nott x fem!Reader
[masterlist]
Summary: Malfoy!Reader who’s annoyed that they can’t be Theo’s date to the Halloween party dresses up to get his attention and ends up with more than one set of eyes on her. This is kinda short, I just wanted a Halloween themed oneshot.
Warnings:Possessive Behavior,Jealousy, Secret Relationship,Toxic(ish)Theo,Smut,Choking, Creampie.
“Baby, you know I’d go with you if it were up to me. I thought he wouldn’t be there I’m sorry.” Theo was annoyed to say the least, not only did his plan fail miserably, but you also seemed to blame him for it. The only reason he even wanted to go to this stupid party was for you, but of course Draco just had to decide last minute he wanted to go after all.
“I’m sorry, I know you wanted to dress up but he’s not gonna sit this party out.” You just eyed the much taller boy, he hadn’t put on his costume yet and could easily decide to stay with you but, “He’d get suspicious,” like it would be the end of the world if Draco knew. All you could do was roll your eyes with a sigh, laying down on your bed with a book as Theo watched you.
“Are you gonna say anything?” You just huffed at him, meeting his eyes for a second before returning to pretending to read your book, “If Draco found out I ditched the party he’s gonna come looking, and if he finds he in his little sister’s dorm he’d throw a fit.” You slammed your book shut, crossing your arms with furrowed brows before eyeing him from where you sat.
“His little sister huh?” You were frustrated, you couldn’t tell what he wanted anymore. One minute he’d be calling you his sweetheart, future wife and mother of his children, and the next he’d barley look at you, laughing in the Common Room from jokes Draco makes at your expense. “Just go to your party, I’m not some little kid who’s gonna cry without your attention for an hour,”
You huffed as his jaw clenched, eyeing you with a flash of anger, “I didn’t say you were a little kid, It’s just that if D-“
“Yeah I know if Draco finds out you’re in trouble,” You sighed as you rolled your eyes, slipping off your bed and leaving Theo trailing you with his darkening eyes, “I’m gonna take a shower, have fun at the party.”
Theo grumbled to himself as he left your dorm, slamming the door behind him as hard as he could just as you slammed the bathroom door. You sighed to yourself as you stared into your mirror, you weren’t just gonna sit out on your last Hogwarts Halloween party with Theo and he should have known that. You quickly threw on your costume and did your makeup light, wanting the glittery cat ears on your head to be the center of attention.
You wore a small black dress that could honestly barley be called a dress, paired with black heels that would bring your height to only a couple inches under Theo. You let your hair fall straight behind your shoulders, holding it back with the cat-ear headband, black eyeliner bringing out the color of your eyes with classic red lipstick drawing attention to your lips. You decided for no bra to let the dress hug your figure entirely, pulling it all together with a tight black belt adorned with a sleek black cat’s tail.
Goosebumps covered your skin as you made your way up the stairs to the packed Slytherin Common Room. A haze of smoke flitted over the various packs of dancing and conversing students while you made your way through to Draco and his friends usual spot.
Your skimpy black cat costume was basic, but a classic that was sure to drive Theo crazy. Your eyes met his as soon as the crowd parted to let you through to the group, leaving almost immediately to rake his eyes across your body as you approached. However you completely ignored him, walking up to Draco and announcing your presence before slipping away to get a drink, feeling Theo’s dead eyes stare into your back as you did so.
You hastily filled a glass with spiked punch and leant against the table with a sigh as the lanky figure of Lorenzo Berkshire approached the drink table only a few feet away from the group,“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight,” You eyed his loose button up and black jeans, he wasn’t wearing costume and if he was you had no clue what it was but you didn’t mind. He’d do.
“I wasn’t planning to at first,” You lied, turning to fully face the tall brunette, feeling Theo’s burning gaze on you both now, “But since it’s all you guy’s last year I figured I should come to as many parties as possible this year, don’t you agree?”
You maintained eye contact with Enzo as you lightly bit your lip, watching his eyes fall to watch it bounce back in place before meeting yours again. His eyes lingered in yours for a second as a smile slowly grew on his face. “I’m gonna be honest here, I thought you and Theo might’ve had something going on.” Enzo’s voice was low and intoxicating as he inched closer to you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Theo zoning in on the words spoken between you and his friend with a clenched jaw, no longer trying to hide his annoyance.
You laughed sweetly at up at Enzo as he eyed you with his bloodshot gaze, “Theo? He’s just my brother’s best friend Lorenzo, why would there be anything going on between us?” You had to make an effort to keep your eyes on the lean boy in front of you as his hand found it’s way to your waist, he tugged you closer to him slightly just as the shadow of Theodore Nott engulfed you.
“Walk away Enzo.” The boy in front of you retreated with raised hands and a mocking smile, sending you a wink that made you giggle as he slipped into the crowd, much to Theo’s dismay. Theo’s large hand took in your wrist as he tugged you toward the boys’s dorms. “Aren’t you afraid Draco will see you leave with me Teddy?”
You forced the most sincere voice you could muster, poking out your lip in a dratamatic pout as he turned to you with daring eyes, “I don’t fucking care.” He spat, tugging you into his dorm room before slamming the door shut behind you both.
“What the fuck are you wearing first of all?” Theo snapped, turning to meet your eyes as he loosened the tie around his neck with a huff. You looked down at your dress then back to him with your eyebrows furrowed before simply saying, “A costume.”
“A costume?” He chuckled, poking his tongue into his cheek as he eyed your body again, “That’s barely clothes.” Theo sighed, eyes dead and set into yours before eyeing your outfit again, though this time he didn’t seem to have a problem with it at all.
“It’s the same thing I would have been wearing if you came with me,” You huffed, crossing your arms with a roll of your eyes before meeting his gaze again with a challenging stare.
“That’s different, I’d have been with you.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he spoke, taking in his sentence with a laugh and shake of your head. “So maybe you should have come with me?”
“I would have if it weren’t for your annoying ass brother,” He snapped, stepping closer as you stood your ground in front of his bed. “Speaking of which, I’m just Draco’s best friend now? Last time I fucking checked not all of Draco’s best friends get to fuck you almost every weekend,” He shouted, his eyes bore directly into yours but you didn’t waver. He didn’t scare you and he knew that, but you both knew you probably should have feared him a little.
“Well I guess I could change that couldn’t I, Enzo seemed rather eager, maybe I’ll start with him.” You laughed, biting at your lip and going to turn around before feeling Theo’s large hands dig into your arms, turning you to face him as he shoved you into the end post of his bed.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” His voice was strained, clearly hurt by your jab but you didn’t care, though you probably should have. “Or what?” Your voice dripped with desire as his face edged closer to yours, your thighs clenching together subconsciously and before your knew it his lips were on yours in a hungry kiss. His hands fell to your waist as yours wrapped around to meet in his hair, tugging at it to egg him on as he lifted you just to toss you on his bed.
“You’re a fucking brat.” He growled, crawling up your body as his eyes dug into you before smashing his lips back against yours. Face paint and lipstick smeared together, ending up in each other’s mouths as your teeth clattered together. “Now I’m gonna have to teach Enzo a lesson on who he can and cannot touch because of you.” He whispered into your mouth making you shiver and sending a rush of warmth directly to your core.
Theo’s lips and teeth worked down your neck, nipping at it and leaving a trail of bruises in their wake as his hands worked to push up your dress. You fumbled with his belt, the metal clinking together loudly as you tugged it off of him and tossed it aside before eagerly unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down. Theo quickly moved your panties to the side, lining himself up and meeting your gaze for consent with hooded eyes before filling you up entirely.
He immediately set a ruthless pace, staring into your eyes as he groaned and grabbed at your neck, “If your eyes leave mine you don’t get to come until I say so, understand?”
Your thoughts jumbled together as Theo hit your g-spot over and over, working overtime just to form the word “yes” while Theo picked up his pace. He kept one hand gripping your neck tightly as the other held onto your hip with a brutal grip. “You’re mine Baby, I don’t fucking care who knows anymore. You are mine.” He growled, mostly speaking to himself as he lost himself in your soft walls.
You moaned up at him as you dragged your nails down his toned back pulling a groan from him before wrapping your legs entirely around him and trapping him between them. Theo began speaking Italian down to you, still fucking into you while watching your face intently, you couldn’t understand a single thing he was saying making you glow bright red as he chuckled down to you.
“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He muttered as his hips smacked against yours repeatedly, filling the room with the obscene combination of the smack of skin mixing with your moans and the creak of the bed drowning out his whispers of praise. “You feel so fucking good baby, I’m gonna fucking cum. Can I fill you up Baby?”
You moaned his named loudly as he tugged you closer to him by your neck, stealing your breath as you desperately mumbled a yes into his mouth. His hips snapped into yours faster as his hand fell between your legs, fingers finding your clit immediately to pull out your orgasm. You clenched around Theo as he hissed and sped of his thrusts, driving into you harder as he stuttered and moaned loudly. Your name repeatedly falling from his lips as he came deep inside of you pushing you over the edge, you clamped around him while your legs shook and your head became cloudy only being able to think of Theo as he fell on top of you completely.
Theo slowly pushed himself up further to look down at you, your face, neck, and shoulders smeared with his face paint and red lipstick just as his was, your hair a mess on his pillows, your eyes teary and staring up at him. He swore he’d never seen anything so perfectly ruined in his life.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Draco stood in the doorway, sighing into his hand after taking in the scene in front of him. His best friend had his sister in their dorm, that they shared. “Eh put a fucking sock on the door next time or something.”
Theo turned quickly as the door slammed shut before he could glimpse his friend, “Does that mean he’s not gonna hex me?” Theo asked, eyes fixed on the cloak swinging back and forth on it’s hook on the door.
~~~~
-HP Taglist-
@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy
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evie-sturns · 8 months ago
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Snap - Chris Sturniolo
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summary: when you apparently 'distract matt' while matt's driving chris snaps at you, he regrets his choice of words instantly when you get upset.
contains: angst, crying, makeup-sex, fluff, arguing, yelling, gentle!chris.
----------------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-------------------
i sit in the backseats of the sturniolos car, nick is to my left scrolling aimlessly on his phone and chris is in the passenger seat. the conversation in the car is quiet.
matt swings round a corner earning a small laugh from me,
"matt, can you turn up the music please?" i ask chirpily,
chris has been on edge the whole day, we've bickered countless times throughout the afternoon.
chris's jaw clenches as i repeat myself, "matt?"
"one second-" matt mutters while switching lanes,
i reach my arm out and turn up the volume myself, leaning over the center console from the backseat slightly.
the volume in the car raises, the headlights illuminate the road infront of us as i lean back into my chair.
"you don't have to turn up the music now, patience would be nice for a change." chris mumbles, i brush off his comment.
"do you know when we're gonna be home or not?" i ask softly, clutching my seatbelt restlessly as matt switches lanes again
then chris snaps.
"hes driving us safley to our fucking house!" chris yells, his voice booms throughout the car,
i've never heard chris yell like that, i've never heard chris yell in general.
"chris- shut up?" i bite back, my attitude kicking in
"stop distracting him!" chris screams at me, his head snaps back and looks at me over his shoulder, veins are visible on his pale forehead.
"shut up!" i yell back at him out of shock, my voice is shaking and i'm nowhere near as loud as chris.
"stop distracting him, you're fucking annoying!" chris shouts,
the whole car goes dead silent.
"you can not fucking talk to your girlfriend like that?" nick raises his voice at chris,
"i'll do what the fuck i want!" chris replies angrily.
"oh my god guys, stop? nobodys distracted and nobody is fucking annoying." matt says from the frontseat,
i take in shaky breathes, when i say that chris has never yelled like that before i mean it, my ears hurt.
nick wraps his arms around me, stroking my hair lightly. "i'm so sorry about him" nick whispers quickly,
the only thing i can do is nod, staring straight ahead at the back of chris's head.
i don't even realise i'm crying until i feel my cheeks become soaked, i take in a deep shaking breath.
the whole car is completely quiet as we pull into our street, not a word has been said since chris's outburst.
“dude stop fucking acting like i just punched her in the nose she’s fucking fine.” chris says from the front seat,
“watch yourself chris.” nick warns,
i see chris glare back at me, i wrap my arms around nick as we pull into our driveway, the painfully long drive is finally finished.
chris instantly pulls on the door handle to open it even though it’s locked
“unlock the door matt.” chris mutters
“bro when i unlock the door you are gonna go straight into your bedroom and sort your shit out.” matt raises his voice
chris’s jaw clenches as he looks out the window, matt unlocks the car door and chris instantly swings the door open, he slams his shut behind him and storms up the driveway.
the whole car goes silent with matt, nick and i in it, aside from the small sniffles coming from me.
“i’ve never seen him like that i’m so sorry.” nick sighs, i nod silently
“c’mon inside,” matt says, stepping out of the car and opening the door for me.
i step out onto the concrete of the driveway, the cold night air against my warm skin makes me shudder.
nick holds my hand as we walk up the steps of the front porch, chris didn’t leave the door open for us like usual.
matt fiddles around with the doorknob and finally creaks it open.
i step into the house and instantly grow warm again, i think it’s the fact the heatings on mixed with the amount of adrenaline coursing through my body.
“you can come stay in my room tonight.” nick whispers, almost dragging me down the corridor into his comforting room.
“have a good sleep!” matt calls out with a sympathetic sad smile on his face, “thank you matt.” i croak,
i flop down on nicks bed with a small sigh, nick jumps down next to me and tugs up the covers. i rest my head on his arm as i fight back more tears.
“you can let it out now, it’s just us.” nick whispers,
that’s enough for me to start sobbing, floods of tears fall down my cheeks.
“i’m sorry-“ my voice breaks, “i’ve just never really been yelled at like that.”
“i know, i don’t know what’s wrong with him and i’m so sorry.” nick sighs, he runs his hand through my hair as i continue to cry.
“he’s gonna fix this, i promise.” nick says softly, i nod into his arm.
-
i’ve been laying in nicks bed for around an hour, my tears have mostly stop due to the fact i’m so tired, too tired to keep crying.
my eyes flutter shut again,
abruptly i hear noises coming from matt’s room, they don’t sound like arguing but it doesn't sound.. normal.
i sit up in bed,
"dude- you know i cant sleep alone c'mon." i hear chris say with a shaky voice,
"yeah, well your fucking girlfriend would be in bed with you right now if you didnt scream at her for an hour." matt replies,
"so go back to your own room." matt follows up.
chris lets out a wobbling sigh, i hear the door to matts room slam shut followed by small footsteps coming down the corridor
i hear the footsteps grow closer to nicks room before a soft couple of knocks on the door, my heart drops as i lay back down in bed.
"what." nick calls out,
"can i speak to y/n, please-" chris almost whispers,
nick looks over at me, i hesitate before nodding.
i stand up out of bed and walk over to the door, i creak it open and im met with chris's face.
he kind of looks like a train wreck.
his lips are red and puffy, his eyes are swollen and bloodshot and his brunette locks are messy and hes avoiding eye contact.
"um- do you want to come to our room, i just want to talk to you- you dont have to though" chris stambles, tilting his head towards our room.
i nod, chris goes to reach for my hand then pulls back. i follow behind him up the corridor towards our shared bedroom.
he opens the door for me, i walk inside awkwardly, the silence is deafening.
i plop down on the bed and chris follows, he sits down a couple feet away from me and his gaze shifts towards me.
chris fidgets with his long fingers before his blue eyes meet mine.
"i'm so- sorry for what happened earlier-- i know i raised my voice, and i shouldn't have at all. it wasn't fair to you, and it wasn't right, i wasn't thinking straight." chris starts after a couple seconds of silence.
"i messed up, big time. i let my weird 'fuckin mood take over, and i directed it at you, which was completley uncalled for. i hate everything i did, and for making you cry, and yelling in general. you mean everything to me and im so so sorry."
"i dont even know what happened, it was like it wasn't me talking dude- i just love you so much and- and-" chris's voice breaks,
he brings his pale hands up to his flushed face and wipes his eyes.
"please forgive me" he says while running a hand through his hair.
i scoot over to chris and wrap my arms around his trembling body, the warmth of his body comforting me.
"i don't know why you yelled at me like that, but ill try to forget about it." i sigh, chris nods and burys his face into my chest.
i pull away from chris and take his face in my hands, his cheeks are a deep red and his lips are raw.
i press my lips to his softly, i wrap my arms around the back of his neck before straddling him.
i sit comfortably on his lap before shifting slightly,
suddenly chris lets out a low whimper into my mouth,
the kiss wasn't even sexual, there was no tongue, just lips pressed together.
i let out a small laugh,
i feel a poking against my inner thigh, "are you serious chris?" i giggle,
"i am so sorry- i don't know how that happened" chris says in a panicked tone
"how did you get hard from that?" i scoff, rubbing my eyes.
"i don't know." chris sighs, "ill go fix it just give me a couple minutes"
he goes to stand up off the bed but i pin him back down,
"don't say that? i'll make you feel better chris."
"i don't want you to have to do that, i don't want you to think i only apologised for sex-" chris rambles, i press a finger to his lips,
"i know that wasn't why you apologised." i assure him before lifting my baggy shirt off of my body,
chris's eyes gaze over my bare chest, i feel him grow fully hard.
"oh fuck" chris laughs slightly, i stand up off of chris's lap and shimmy my pyjama shorts down my legs.
i'm left in my light pink lace panties, which quickly follow in the pile of my clothes on the floor.
chris stands up off the bed and walks over to me, he picks me up by my ass and throws me down onto the bed. "are you sure?" chris asks, "yes chris." i smile
chris fidgets with the buckle of his belt, which keeps his baggy jeans up.
his discards his belt on the floor before unbuttoning his denim jeans. chris's jeans fall to the floor followed by his boxers,
letting his erection spring out, his tip taps his stomach before he stands between my thighs,
chris is usually a rough, fast sex kind of guy, but hes not acting like that today. he's being slow and his tough is so gentle.
he brushes his fingers over the hem of my panties before pulling them to the side. chris presses a light kiss to the inside of my thighs before standing back up.
"you ready sweetheart?" chris asks, tracing mindless shapes on my clit lightly.
"yeah-" i reply
chris lines himself up with me before pressing his tip inside of me,
he lets out a sigh of relief as soon as he enters me, i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip with a small moan.
chris presses further of his length inside of me, stretching my walls around him, "you feeling okay?" chris whispers, grabbing my waist lightly.
"feels.. really good" i breathe.
chris finally bottoms out, i feel his tip lightly press against my cervix before he almost pulls out again, then presses back inside of me.
he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips, i moan into his mouth as his thrusts continue.
chris pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead to mine, his brunette hair resting on my bare forehead.
chris uses his free hand to move some of my hair away from my eyes, i feel his tip repeatedly brush against my g-spot.
with every thrust he hits that spot, earning louder moans from me.
"oh chris!" i whine, arching my back off the bed as his pace picks up a little bit.
"you're taking me so well, feel so good around my dick." chris praises me, knowing i love it when he praises me.
chris reaches his hand down between where our body meets and presses his hand onto my lower stomach.
"feel me right there?" chris asks,
he pushes deep inside of me causing a obvious stomach bulge, my mouth falls open as i feel my mind fog
"fuck chris- oh my god im so close" i babble out, "keep doing that- please"
chris lets out a low laugh, "im close aswell pretty girl"
chris reaches further down and rubs my clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure.
and thats enough to send me over the edge.
i feel an intense amount of pleasure wash over me, "chris!" i call out, clenching around his length as i release.
chris pulls out of me and strokes himself a couple of times before finishing on my stomach "oh god.." chris groans, throwing his head back.
he flops down on the bed before pulling me onto his stomach, "i love you so much." chris breathes out deeply,
"i love- you to." i pant,
chris lets out a small laugh before reaching his hand to my stomach, he wipes his cum off of me with a grimace on his face.
"sorry that was kind of gross." chris laughs.
"it was hot." i correct him.
chris sits up and carrys me over to the couch in his room, he sits me down on it before digging through his closet.
chris pulls out a shirt of his and some sweatpants, he brings them over to me and tugs the sweatpants up my legs and pulls the shirt onto me.
"you're so pretty." chris smiles, "dont be boosting my ego now chris." i joke
"its truee thoughh" he replies.
"you're so stupid." i say, my cheeks going red.
"you're flustered so somethings clearly working." he grins, helping me up off the couch.
"it doesnt matter, i need water." i giggle,
chris reaches for his bedroom door and opens it for me, i step out into the corridor and grab chris's hand,
we walk down the corridor together into the kitchen where nick is sat,
he looks up at us with a small sigh
"glad to hear you two made up" nick groans dramatically,
"what?" chris says, his eyebrows furrowing.
"chris. all i could hear for the past 20 minutes was 'chriss dont stop' it was a living hell." nick says holding back a laugh,
my eyes widen,
"you guys are gross" nick smiles with an eye roll, nick walks past us out of the kitchen and punching chris in the arm.
"chris-" i protest,, my face red.
"hey- to be fair you were quite loud..."
-------------------
BRO BILLIES NEW ALBUM SENT ME TO HEAVEN I SWEAR, also i saw this mega fucking hot guy at the supermarket today like im talking hotter than matt sturniolo deadass.
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dickaspointed · 5 months ago
Text
𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝑾 𝑶𝑻7
𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥!!
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HEESEUNG was about to start his daily regime of violence on league when he walked into the kitchen to gather an array of food and drinks to satiate his gnawing hunger. your back was turned to him, so of course he took it as a sign to scare you. instead, you scared him when you whipped around with a whisk in hand, rolling it aggressively against the red and purple bruises that lingered over your collarbone.
"what in the world?!"
"i seen it on tiktok! i have such an important interview tomorrow and i can't go into it like this. i look like a whore!" you exclaimed, desperately digging the silver into your skin. "is it working? please tell me it's working!"
JAY genuinely couldn't believe his eyes when you sat in the center of his bed with a whisk going to town on the marks he worked so hard to create last night. you had forgot all about the dinner with his parents and with your neck looking like the latest shark attack, you were desperate for anything.
"don't stare at me like that, tiktok said if i do this they'll go away." you remained stoic, but Jay cringed as he watched the little wires dig into your skin. "can you tell? i think they're disappearing—!"
JAKE took the whisk from your hand, narrowing his eyes at you as he stared upon the fading bruise. he had worked hard on these masterpieces and to watch you try to rid of them hurt a lot differently.
"i know that stupid tiktok hack! absolutely not! people should know our sex life is completely fine and thriving, why do you care so much about how they look at you?"
"my mom is on her way here," you deadpanned, lips flatlining. "remember the conversation 'we're waiting until marriage.' yeah, me too."
Jake cleared his throat, sheepishly returning the whisk. "i'm so sorry."
NI-KI dropped the groceries off in the little kitchenette, rolling his shoulders after lugging such heavy items up 4 flights of stairs. he had rung you at least 12 times and due to no answer he brought the groceries up by himself.
he huffed and puffed very obviously upset and when he burst through your bedroom door, nostrils flared and cheeks red, only then did you actually break from your trance.
"Ni-ki! i'm busy!" you screeched, whirling your wrists in circles as you held firmly to the stainless steel whisk you had instacarted to your house. "TikTok told me i could remove hickies—" Ni-ki moved in closer, yanking that stupid whisk away from you before he started his attack.
SUNGHOON was about to start baking a cake for Sunoo's birthday, most of his utensils were missing and when he searched high and low he couldn't find them. finally caving to ask you for help, he hung onto the doorknob his face twisted into pure confusion and disgust.
you sat cross legged on his bed, using both hands to twirl his whisk into a large bruise he created last night. a bowl of ice rested between your thighs, every now and then you'd take a cube out and slide it over the bruise before reassuming position. "oh! hi, hoon!"
needless to say, Sunoo had no cake and you had way too many hickies that a whisk could not whisk away.
SUNOO had went into hiding for majority of the day, hidden underneath covers, his phone propped on his pillow he watched tutorial after tutorial. to anyone who caught this it definitely looked like a weird sex kink but in truth he was trying to remove all of the hickies you had tatted on his skin.
he had a very important meeting this afternoon and no amount of makeup was hiding the shape or color of your lips on his skin. desperately enough, when you entered the bedroom and caught him in the act you only laughed, going over to your makeup kit to cancel out the different hues of hickies that loitered his beautiful skin.
"stay off TikTok, Sun. you'll rupture your arteries at this rate."
JUNGWON loved tatting your skin up in hickies, it really was his favorite past time. your chest quickly became a warzone and with the hot weather approaching you wanted nothing more than to wear crop tops or low fitting tops.
you wasted not a single second hopping on the good ole clock app to help rid of your problem. there were loads of tutorials to help and immediately you searched high and low for a whisk before diving onto the couch to start your experiment.
Jungwon wasn't too pleased with this and in short he threw the whisk away, giving you a long lecture on how you shouldn't care about what others thought.
K BYEREE
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