𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 - 𝐥𝐬. 𝟏𝟖 | 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐏𝐍𝐅 |
𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
summary: if you love her, you have to let her go. who the hell came up with that?
content warning: vacation romance. profanity. a couple of suggestive lines. one line of dark humor (toaster bath). fluff and angst. sibling dynamics (bullying). friendship. hard launch (but sad). emotional support esteban ocon (shrugs). heartbreak. this might count as getting together/breaking up.
pairing: lance stroll x fem!black!reader
from serene: i feel like i have to reiterate that this does have a happy ending (in the next part). i think my tags are over dramatic asl but, i’m not trying to getting jumped in my inbox for miss tagging anything. also, i know lance isn’t a “popular driver” (whatever that fuckin means) but i’m in love with this smau, and i will not be accepting any judgement xxx
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instagram • ynplays • december 14th • cozy in a cabin ⚑
liked by valkyrae, yourbestie, segagenesisthedawg, and 43,879 others
ynplays: falling love with canada🇨🇦🍁🏒⛸️🌨️
tagged yourbestie, segagenesisthedawg, nhl
view comments
ynplays: sega cries after he walks us back to our room at night and leaves 😫
➥ user1: she’s just a liddol girl 🥹
➥ user2: the puppy has spoken u have to keep him i don’t make the rules 🤷🏿♀️
➥ user3: so...you have no choice but to run away with him into the sunset.
yoursister: booooo we get it you've been brainwashed by a canadian man 🙄🙄🙄
➥ ynplays: when was the last time you smiled today
➥ yoursister: it's difficult when ALL you do is yap about your crush on this hockey-core man 🤢
➥ ynplays: he gives himbo hockey player IM TELLNG YOU !!!
➥ user4: so he's canadian 😶
user5: his name starts with an L, he's approx 6'0, is brunette with brown eyes, and he's canadian with hockey player vibes👐🏻
➥ user6: i could walk two (2) steps outside of my house in ottawa and i'd run into a man who fits this description 😭😭
➥ user7: he sounds like every other bitch???
➥ user8: let's go through every minor and major hockey league roster again
➥ yourfriend1: "again?" who TF has time for that
user9: tagging THE nhl is crazy 💀
➥ user8: i'm telling you he's a hockey player
➥ user10: idk man he doesn't look like a hockey build in either of these photos🤔
igstory • yoursister uploaded!
[caption1; me and sis] [caption2; fuck. i guess they're kinda cute together 😒]
yourfriend2: did you see them doing snow angels together 🥺🥺☹️
yourfriend2: that had me smiling ngl...they're adorable
yoursister: yeah, i'm just happy there's no red flags she's ignoring, he seems like a genuine dude
user11: do you improve of this lance? 6'0, brown eyes, brunette, canadian hockey player 🙂
yoursister: uhh i fear for his life,,are u gonna put a hit on him or smth
yoursister: also he is not a hockey player lol
user11: oh🫣
yoursister: i'm pretty sure he's like a car engineer or smth? i think i heard him say that
twitter • december 16th
instagram • ynplays • december 16th • sanctuary ⚑
liked by nhl, yoursister, yourbestie, yourmom, and 42,313 others
ynplays: i don't want to leave.
view comments
nhl: not me crying 😩 - admin
➥ user12: huh
➥ user13: nhl admin relatable
yourbestie: aw babe. enjoy your last five days here :)
➥ ynplays: i only have five days left 😟
➥ yourfriend1: oh girlie...it'll be alright
➥ yourfriend2: i always hate this part of the vacation
yoursister: please ask lance if he's willing to take you off my hands. permanently preferably.
➥ ynplays: are you familiar with the term sympathy?
➥ yoursister: oh you're sad for real
➥ yoursister: 😕 therapy session in the hot tub now ladies
➥ user14: this is depressing me
user15: hey, you can just elope? i don't think you've added that to your toolbox yet
➥ ynplays: too sad to even consider it rn
➥ ynplays: nvm he invited me to his cabin later 👅✌🏽
➥ user15: use protection 🙂↔️
user16: i feel like this should have a sensitive content warning
➥ user17: my day is ruined
➥ user18: and my disappointment is immeasurable
➥ user19: THERES 104 DAYS OF SUMMER VACATION🗣️🔊
➥ user20: read the room man @/user19
twitter • ynplays • december 21st
instagram • lancestroll • december 24th
liked by estebanocon, chloestroll, astonmartinf1, and 2,109,764 others
lancestroll: winter break has never felt so short. i missed you the second you stepped away from me. happy holidays, baby.
tagged ynplays
view comments
estebanocon: it’ll get better eventually mate ❤️🩹 believe it or not
➥ lancestroll: finding it hard to believe rn
chloestroll: come have some hot cocoa with me
➥ lancestroll: yn liked hot cocoa
➥ scottyjames31: oh mate…
➥ user21: okay, i'm concerned for my health. there's some sort of clear liquid leaking from my eyes
➥ user22: FUCK man this is sad 😕
astonmartinf1: chin up lance - admin
➥ alpinef1team: feeling for you mate - admin
➥ mercedesamgf1: sad it ended up like this for you lance - admin
➥ user23: the f1 teams are assembling like the avengers in infinity war for this
➥ user24: an unforgettable day in f1 history
yourmom: fix this. liked by lancestroll
➥ user25: w mama 🤩
➥ user26: tell him ma'am ‼️‼️
yourbestie: thank you for being good to her when you had her
➥ lancestroll: don't thank me for that.
➥ user27: cooking up my toaster bath actually
user30: well this is not the hard launch i wanted to confirm our theory.
➥ user31: brb about to create them in the sims and make them get married and have 6 children, sega, two cats and let them get old together
➥ user: realest cure for heartbreak
user28: no way they decided not being together at all is worse than being long distance
➥ yoursister: that's what i sad but nobody listens to me
➥ user28: why'd they do it???
➥ yoursister: my sister can be incredibly stupid about returned feelings. and for some reason she chose now to "protect her heart"
➥ user29: she deserves her happy ending and needs to allow herself to have it 😭😭😭
twitter • ynplays • december 25th
imessage • lance -> yn
© httpsserene 2024
350 notes
·
View notes
credits to the gif maker!
LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART I
summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.
pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.
word count: 4.4k
warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!
a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3
masterlist with next parts!
You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.
New York, New York
September 4th, 2015
You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.
You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.
So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.
“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.
You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.
"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.
Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.
Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.
So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.
Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.
"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.
Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.
“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.
Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.
"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.
"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.
"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.
He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.
"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."
Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.
"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."
You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."
The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.
You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.
You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.
Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.
There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.
However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.
As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.
Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.
It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.
"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.
"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."
He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."
"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."
"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."
In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.
That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.
You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.
"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"
"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."
He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.
This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.
"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.
"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"
"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."
Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.
You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."
Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.
Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.
Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.
"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.
He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."
Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.
Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.
You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.
"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.
He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."
"What happened?"
"It's kind of pathetic, really."
"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.
"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.
"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.
"I know, I know. It's stupid."
"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."
You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."
"I've got nowhere else to be."
The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.
"You two should date."
"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"
"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."
Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."
"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."
She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"
"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me." Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.
"You really don't see it, do you?"
"There's nothing to see, Sarah."
It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.
This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.
Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.
You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"
It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.
You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.
As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.
"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."
"How'd you know that?"
"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."
"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."
The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.
"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.
Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.
Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."
You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.
As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.
After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.
"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.
"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.
Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."
You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.
"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.
"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."
"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"
"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."
You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.
"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.
"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.
To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."
If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."
"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.
"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"
Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.
You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.
"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."
"I think you're correct."
His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"
And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.
Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.
"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.
It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.
"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.
"Tell me what you need, princesa."
"I need you to touch me."
"Your wish is my command."
Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.
He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.
"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"
"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."
He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.
"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.
And that's when it happens. Instant regret.
Oh my god.
Oh no.
Oh fuck.
What have you done?
reblog or like if you enjoyed it!
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