#sorry jon can't let you have this one

[clytemnaestraes]

Proof that Catelyn is asoiaf jesus:

-> has stigmata (valyrian steel dagger wounds)

-> died after being betrayed

-> was resurrected THREE DAYS after her death

[impyssadobsessions]

I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!

The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.

Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.

There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.

So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.

Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.

Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.

Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.

Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”

Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...

AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.

Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3

Link to prompt

[killishin]

JEALOUS

pairing : damian x reader

warning : some jealousy

category : fluff

author's note : okay my exams are over ( for now ) and im writing after like a year so if there's any mistakes , forgive me. Also first time writing damian , or any dc chara so sorry if there's anything wrong. enjoy :)

parties , gathering were never your place and neither his. the league had decided to have a gathering of all heroes and as much as you would rather be in your room sleeping , there's free food here.

that's the reason you tell everyone.

If you were being honest , you still weren't gonna come but a certain recent argument with Damian , your oh so understanding boyfriend , had you in a mood of mischief. You wanted to do something to annoy him , as childish as it sounds for someone who has the status of hero , you just had to.

Initially both of you had decided not to go but then just today morning you told him you were going. you laugh when you remember the disbelief that was on his face.

" Fine. Go. " was all he said back then and you thought that would be it. He would be sulking away in his own solitude.

But he came , with that same brooding face which for a moment melted away when he met your eyes , when he saw you looking absolutely gorgeous , but it was quickly replaced by a scowl when he saw you smirking.

You knew how much he hated crowds so having him go through one was utmost peak revenge.

( he has a huge soft spot for you but he wasn't gonna concede so easily. )

He saw you the whole night talking away , laughing with your friends and the strangers that approached you. He saw how everyone hung onto every word you said and get lost in the spark in your eyes , just like he did.

" Trouble in paradise?" Jon said and smirked when Damian ignored him. Jon saw how he was glaring daggers on the people talking to you.

It was simply comical to him how big of a hold you have on Damian. So he decided to just tease. just a little.

" Oh boy did you see the way the guy laughed?? He's totally trying on her. Is it just me or is he inching towards her?? Man you gotta do something or he'll take awa-"

And that was enough to set off Damian as put down his glass on the bar and went striding off to where you were , leaving Jon smirking wide.

You were enjoying your conversation with the new people you met , but you can't lie it was getting tiring now. Your social battery was running out and maybe right now all you need is a quiet corner and him. Just the bliss of his presence.

And thankfully, you were rescued.

Damian came right in the middle of the conversation, put his hand on your lower back gently before looking at everyone else with his usual glare, although you swear you could see the anger in his eyes.

" I apologise but we need to be somewhere. " He said and started directing you away from the crowd but he stopped in between and glanced back at the guy who was hitting on you.

" Back off , 's all I'll say." His voice held a warning that only an idiot would miss and your eyes slightly widened at his outburst.

But when your eyes met with Jon who was reeling from the scenario , you joined the dots.

( OH JACKPOT )

Damian directed you in a quiet corner outside , away from prying eyes and voices. He let go of you and looked off in a distance , his brows furrowed and his upset eyes looking anywhere else but you.

maybe this was too much.

You realised in your childishness you may have actually upset your man.

You gently pulled him by his arm and made him look at you. It was like a little angry puppy looking at you and you could just die from the cuteness aggression.

" Are you mad at me?" you asked with a small smile. He scoffed and looked away again.

" No why would i be?"

" Cause you were jealous."

" I was not. "

" I never took you for the jealous type you know."

" I said i was not jealous."

You laughed and gently held his face in your hands. aww now he really looks like a puppy.

" I'm sorry if i upset you. It wasn't my intention to make you jealous."

" But it was your intention to come to the party."

" That. "

You laughed guiltily and wrapped your arms around his neck.

" Okay yeah obviously that was my intention. But you weren't talking to me at all during missions , and it just made me a bit.... annoyed. So i had to do something to make you talk." you justified, knowing you could have just maturely had a conversation with him about the argument in private.

" ....And annoy you."

you looked down in guilt but then you heard him laughing heartily. You looked up in surprise. The sight not only rare , but it melts you away. It was the most cutest thing ever , the way his face lit up , the way his lips stay in a beautiful smile.

He took a hold of your chin and pulled you close.

" If you wanted attention, "

He kissed your lips slow , his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands went from your chin to your hips , pulling you even more close. You could sense the hint of sass coming as he teased you by gently nibbling on your lower lip. He pulled away , looking at your lips , then your eyes and that shit eating grin on his face.

" You could have just asked. "

reblogs and likes are appreciated :)

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #29

(#) = Notes at the end of post

✦

The Nasty Burger Explosion still happens, and Danny is left without his friends, family, and the only teacher who ever tried to help and encourage him in school. He manages to skirt around Vlad's custody by discovering a cousin of his Dad's he'd never heard about (1). He reached out to her, crying and begging for her to take him in. To not let Vlad anywhere near him.

Needless to say, after hearing a desperate teenager call her in tears and discover that besides Danny, her cousin Jack and his family had recently died in a horrible "accident," Lois nearly upends everything to go and get Danny from a middle of nowhere town in Illinois. After talking with Clark, of course. She didn't get one word in, however, cause he heard the entire phone call from the other room, though unintentionally.

After arranging for Mama Kent to watch over a still young Jon, they drove as fast as possible to meet this boy that already had their hearts in an iron grasp. When they first lay eyes on him, they immediately want to comfort him. His black hair is a tangled mess, his eyes bloodshot and red from crying. He sits in the corner of the school secretary's office, curled up in the small seat with an overstuffed backpack clutched tightly in a trembling, white-knuckled grip. A girl with dark skin and her hair held back by a headband sits with him, but she gets up and walks over as soon as she sees them enter the office. Danny doesn't seem to notice or even look up from where he's staring at the floor tiles.

"He's been hiding here for the last few days since he called you. He hasn't gone home once except to pack the bag he has with him." The girl explains. She holds out her hand to Lois for a handshake. "Valerie. You could say I'm a... friend of his (2). I'm assuming you're the cousin?"

Lois nods solemnly. "How's he been? He wouldn't tell me why he wouldn't go with his parent's first choice of custody. I've been worried."

Valerie grimaced and looked back at Danny before looking her directly in the eyes. "I can't say much without revealing anything i shouldn't. Let's just say Vlad has an unhealthy obsession with Danny, and it's unsafe to be around him. If he trusts you, he'll be the one to tell you the rest."

Clark and Lois share a look before they both nodded.

Valerie sees their acceptance and relaxes. She'd actually been tense the entire time she'd been talking with them.

"Well, with that said, I'll be going now." She rubbed the back of her neck and looked down with a sad expression. She looked back up at Lois with a deep sigh, and only then did Lois realize that Valerie looked to have been crying recently too. Looking between both adults, she made a quiet request. "Take care of him, will you?"

This time Clark is the one who finally speaks up. "You have our word he'll be safe and cared for."

Valerie's shoulders slump with a shuttering sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Once she left, Clark and Lois slowly approached Danny and sat to either side of him. Only then did he finally look up from the tiles and see them. His eyes ghosted over Lois but immediately locked onto Clark. He stared up at him, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Clark shrunk his broad form down a little, concerned his build might be intimidating for the young man. "Hi there, bud." He said in a soft tone. "I'm Clark and this is Lois. We're here to pick you up."

When introductions didn't seem to get a reaction from the teen, Clark's brow furrowed further. "Something wrong?"

Danny finally blinked and quickly ducked his head back down to look at the floor. "N-No." He croaked. "Sorry. For a moment there, I thought you were-" He choked on his words and seemed to have difficulty swallowing. He was shaking, his face hidden against his knees with one of his arms braced over his head to hide even further.

When he finally managed to finish his sentence, Clark's heart shattered completely.

"I th-thought you were my dad."

Clark looked at Lois with lost, watery eyes only to see she was in the same exact predicament. She couldn't stand seeing Danny so heartbroken any longer and leaned over to wrap him in a hug, Clark soon following. After a while of shushing and murmuring words of comfort, Lois gently spoke up.

"Why don't we get your things in the car and we can get on the road."

Extracting himself from their warm hold, Danny took a deep, shuttering breath before nodding.

"Okay."

"Is there anything else we need to get from the house? You have everything?"

Gripping his bag tightly to his chest, he nodded again. (3)

"Yeah. I do."

✦

Side Note:

(1) He found out through Tucker. He'd searched through Danny's family tree for any living relatives in case Vlad ever actually managed to kill Jack or something else happened to both his parents. He just never imagined it would be for this reason specifically.

(2) Yes, she knows Danny is Phantom now. She did not know before. She found out after she tried to pin the blame for Danny's friends and family on Phantom while Danny was in earshot, and he basically blew up at her and broke down. She's horrified and feels terrible, so don't be too hard on her. The confrontation also happened on school grounds with a bunch of other kids present, so a good majority of the student body knows now, too. If not from seeing it first hand, then by word of mouth. They're keeping it hush hush so nobody with bad intentions towards ghosts comes looking for Danny. Valerie will be the main defense against any ghosts that pop up, as well as a few other kids she trained.

(3) Before he left, Danny did disable and completely dismantle the ghost portal and translated all his parent's research into a code him, Sam, and Tucker came up with before destroying the originals as well as the entire lab itself. Natural ghost portals can still pop up in Amity Park tho, since the ghost portal kinda oversaturated the town with ectoplasm. Valerie and the kids she trained are just a precaution.

Haven't come up with a title for this one yet. I'll add it later when it pops into my head though.

Funny enough, this actually isn't what I planned to write for this prompt. It did involve Danny getting adopted into the Kent family, but there was going to be something entirely different happening. Apparently, the characters had other plans. Oh well, I'll save it for the next one, I guess. It might be a second part of this, actually. We'll see!

Enjoy the angst & hurt/comfort tho!

[rainybubbles]

How do you meet COD men after your break-up with them ?

Price, Ghost, König, Soap, Alejandro, Gaz, Alex

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )

P R I C E :

-In a waiting room at the hospital with him baring his ass and you in your white coat, that's how you meet after your break-up.

-"I can't believe we're both at the hospital," John sighs in pain.

-"Yeah, I thought this was the trendy coffee shop. Turns out, my navigation skills are terrible," you joke.

-He lets out a small laugh.

-"So how did you end up with your ass burnt, John ? Did you try some sexy wax ?"you ask while you begin to examine him.

-"Do you really need to ask why something is burn ?"

-"Soap ?" you guess.

-Price nods.

-"Shit, I think you have some third degree burns on the right side."

-"Soap wanted to make a firework on the base, to light up the mood of everyone on the base. He tried to test the fireworks before, and I was there at the wrong moment."Price explains while you help him walk towards the surgery room.

-"It must have hurt like hell. Lay down here on your stomach, I'll call my colleague. His specialty is the burns, so you'll be in good hands. Normally your ass will only have scars on the right side."

-"Guess I have the other half to seduce people then." he jokes.

-You smile.

-"You know you have a great ass, John. Don't worry about that."

-"I know, love."

-You both stare at each other when he said the nickname. It has been eight months since you broke up. It was on mutual agreement, because you had a promotion on your job that didn't let you time for a relationship.

-You gulp and nod.

-You leave the room and ask the help of your colleague and continued your job.

-You tried to ignore the tension you had with John when you were talking. You tried to ignore the image of him smiling.

-Hours later when you have finished your duty, you were walking out of the hospital when you noticed John.

-"Someone of the team picks you up ?" you ask.

-"Yes, but they're late."

-You hesitate to wait with him, after all you had nothing to do. But your mind reminds you it would be a bad idea.

-"How's your job ?" Price asks.

-"I...Fine. In fact I was transferred to another service two months ago. So it's calmer and I don't have many 24h shifts now. And you ?"

-"Still busy."

-You nod.

-"I quit smoking." Price says suddenly.

-You raised your eyebrows. Cigars were like Price's identity. Like Spiderman has his mask, Price has his cigars and hats.

-"Why ?" you ask.

-"I know you hate the smell."

-"Oh."

-"I think we made a mistake back then, I wanted to text you but..." Jon starts.

-"But you get your ass burnt and me seeing your naked ass before you could do it."

-He laughed.

-"Yes."

-"So you think we should give us another chance ?"

-"I'm sure. I mean we always managed to find time for us with my busy schedule, so why would it be a bother if you have one too ? Plus you said you were transferred so I guess your schedule is back to normal ?"

-"Yes,"you say.

-"Do you want this, sweetheart ?" Price asks looking at you in the eyes

-"I..."

-"You ?"

-"I missed you," you admit.

-"Me too."

-"And shit, I didn't know what to do when I saw you again, but I'm sure I don't want to give up when eight months later you still make me flustered by just a look."

-John smiles.

-"Then we have another chance."

-You nodded.

-"Yes we have."

-I guess Soap burnt some ass, but also help to light the fire of love.

G H O S T :

-The rain was falling.

-Soldiers were wearing their uniforms, and the silence was omnipresent.

-Nobody dared to move, to speak. Only the sobbings of a widow were heard.

-It was Thomas' funeral.

-Thomas was one of Ghost's men, but also someone you knew as a friend.

-So when you arrived at the funeral, you saw Simon.

-It has been two years since you saw him. After your break-up it was as if you had imagined Ghost.

-There were no traces of him, not even in your shared flat, or in your phone.

-You didn't know what to do now he was here in front of you, so you stayed back.

-You ignored the pain of loss and bitter you were feeling about him and the situation.

-But then he was next to you. Like a shadow who didn't dare to approach you, too scared to burn himself with your lighting presence.

-"Simon," you decided to whisper.

-"Y/n," he answered.

-It was awkward. You didn't know what to do. You were with him during four years, but it was like you were strangers again.

-"I...Had Thomas said something before he died ?" you asked.

-You knew Ghost was the one who found Thomas' corpse on the mission.

-"He talked about his wife. And ask to protect the kid."

-"...I see,"you whispered.

-He didn't add anything else, so you sighed.

-"And you ?"

-"me ?" Ghost asked.

-"Simon, he was one of your men. You have known Thomas for three years, even though you didn't have a bond with him like Soap, I know you're feeling guilty now."

-"I'm guilty."

-You wanted to slap him.

-"Guilty of what, Simon ? You can't save everyone. You can't just sacrifice yourself to save the ones you love. It doesn't work like this."

-"It worked for you."

-"Are you really bringing this up ?"you whispered angrily.

-"You're happier now."

-"No I'm not. I just have tried to live again without you. Shit, you left without any warnings, without...without telling me. I had to guess you were breaking up with me."

-He stayed silent.

-"Simon, say something."

-"Why did you keep pursuing me ?"

-"Why did you let me to ?"you asked.

-"...I couldn't lose you."

-"But you did."

-"I know. But I had told you not to choose me."

-"But I did."

-He stayed silent.

-"And I will always choose you." you added.

-Simon raised his eyebrows.

-"...I screwed up." Simon whispered.

-"You did."

-"It's too late, now," Simon said.

-"It's never too late to make up for it, Simon."

-"It's been two years," Simon added.

-"But I'm here."

-"You deserve better," Simon said.

-"My tastes are shitty, what can I say ?"

-He smiled under his mask.

-"I don't ask a new romantic relationship with you, Simon. I just want to be in your life. I don't care if it's platonic, romantic or something else. Just, let me be here for you."

-"Even though we end up strangers again ?"

-"Yes."

-"You're stubborn."

-"I learned that from my ex," you joked.

-He smiled.

-"Okay," he whispered

-"Okay," you answered.

The next day he texted you.

K Ö N I G :

(/!/TW,chemo mentionned, Implied panic attack, it's not said clearly but it's clearly implied.)

-You were visiting your grandma when you saw König in the building.

-It was awkward, you both pretended to not have recognized each other but now you were both in the lift.

-Well stuck in the lift.

-Because a lift is not supposed to tremble and let out a ringing.

-"I...I think we can stop pretending we don't know each other since we're stuck for at least two hours now," you said while you sat on the floor.

-"I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry," König whispered quickly.

-"Me too, and when you didn't say anything, I thought it was better to stay silent too."

-He nodded.

-"So...you're here for your grandma ?" he asked.

-"yes."

-"Does she still have chemo or ?"

-"No she's in remission. You remembered that ?" you asked surprised

-"Yes, you talked a lot about it."

-You stayed quiet. One of the reasons for the break-up was your feeling of being alone in this relationship. König was always gone and at home it seems like he didn't listen to you, or avoided you a lot.

-You only talked once about your grandma and it was two years ago.

-"I see" you said

-The silence was awkward. But then you heard König's breath rushed.

-You noticed how his eyes were widen and how hard he gripped his own clothes.

-You know what was coming, so you held his hands like you were used to.

-"König, focus on me."

-"I'm sorry."

-"Don't apologize, focus on me and my voice. Everything is okay."

-"We're stuck in an lift. It's not okay. Scheisse."

-"yes it is, I mean it's kinda cozy ?" you tried to joke.

-He snorts.

-"Okay it smells like piss and it's small, but we're alive and breathing." you said.

-"I'm sorry," König said.

-"Don't apologize for being anxious, König. Just focus and breathe slowly."

-You inhale with him slowly.

-He calmed down a bit.

-"I'm sorry," he continued.

-"You don't have to apologize, I told you. It's not your fault the lift is-"

-"Not about this, about us." König said anxiously.

-"Us ?"

-"Yes, I...I was so worried you would leave me if I made a mistake that I ended up to avoid you and, and I couldn't stop and..."

-"And I broke up with you."

-"Yes if had communicated better with you, none of us would be hurt. I'm so sorry." König said, crying.

-"Shh, don't cry. Just focus on my voice and breathe," yousay "Can I ask you a question ?" you asked.

-He nodded.

-" Why are you saying this, now ? It's been three months since we broke up."

-"Because it felt like my last chance. I...I don't believe in fate but being stuck in an lift with you feels like a big coincidence."

-You nodded.

-"yes. I'm sorry too, König. I should have talked before making suppositions. I know you have anxiety, and I didn't consider it."

-"you couldn't have guessed."

-"yes, but I could have waited for you to explain."

-König nodded.

-"Do you feel better ?" you asked.

-"yes, but don't let go my hand, please."

-You nod. You know physical touch helped him a lot.

-"I still have one of your mask at home." you said.

-"I'm sorry I could take it back and-"

-"And my dog refused to let it go. I hide it, but it seems like my dog always finds your mask and sleeps with it like it's a plush."

-König's heart melted. Your dog was a puppy when you started dating him, he helped you with it for two years so of course your dog still feels attached to him.

-"it's cute."

-"I wanted to send you a picture of it, but it didn't feel right. Because I used to do that when we were together. So I didn't know if it was appropriate."

-"It is appropriate." König said, quickly, "I mean, send them please, I miss your dog."

-"okay, I will," you smiled.

-One hour later the lift was fixed, when you came back home you send him a photo of your dog

and...

-One year later, König was on the photo too. Guess your dog and a lift were just what you needed to have another chance.

S O A P :

-Half-naked in a chair.

-That's how you met Soap after your break-up.

-Both of you stared at each other, surprised.

-"I-" you tried to start.

-"I-" he also said.

-"Maybe you can...put your shirt back on ?" you tried.

-"Oh shit, aye. 'm sorry yer colleague says to get ready and..."

-"It's not a striptease club, Soap. She was only talking about your references," you chuckled.

-He smiled.

-You sat on the chair in front of him.

-"Do you still want to do it, even though you know it's me ? I can call a colleague if you prefer."

-"I always have trusted yer art skills. I want ye," He said without hesitation.

-It was true. Back then Soap always supported you when you confessed you wanted to become a tattoo artist.

-"I guess you didn't know who I was. Or perhaps you enjoy being shirtless at your ex's workplace ?" you joked.

-He smiled.

-"Naw, I didnae ken. Plus there's nae picture o' your face on yer Insta. I liked yer work, so I just booked an appointment, I didn't know yer artist name was that," Soap says.

-"yeah" you said. "so, you're here for a cover. I bet you and Gaz made a bet, you were drunk and a creepy tattoo artist accepted to tattoo you ?"

-"Youknow me, well." Soap smiled.

-"How ugly it is ?"

-"I have a portrait of Price on my chest, but it looks like Michael Jackson and under there is written"no pen, no gain.""

-You tried to not laugh.

-"Price ?"

-"It was to show my respect."

-"You can respect someone without having their face tattooed." You laugh.

-"I know, I was drunk and...I regret it. Dae ye think you can do something ?"

-"Well now, I need to look at it."

-"Ye said it was not a striptease club."

-"Guess I was wrong."

-He laughed and put off his shirt.

-You looked at the horrible piece on his right pectorals.

-"Shit, his teeth are stuck to his noses and one eye is like twice the size of the other,"you noticed.

-"I know."

-"But you're lucky."

-"Why ?"

-"Your terrible tattoo artist use light inks, it's easier to cover than a black and white piece. The more the piece is darker, the more it's difficult to cover it."

-"Okay, so ye can do it ?"

-"I can erase Price and no pen, no gain. Yes. Do you have any ideas about your cover ?"

-"You." Soap said.

-You blinked.

-"smooth, Mac Tavish, really smooth."

-"So it's a yes ?"

-"It's a no for me being the tattoo."

-"But ?" Soap smirked.

-"But yes for a coffee."

-He smiled.

-"but before let's erase Price from your body, I don't want to wake up at your side and see him staring at me."

-Soap laughs.

A L E J A N D R O :

(TW /!/, there's some reference about something put in some food)

-You met him in the street at 1 A.M.

-Alejandro had drinks with Los Vaqueros at a bar to celebrate a successful mission. He was going back to his car when he noticed someone who limped.

-He approached this person, maybe they were hurt and...

-"Y/N"

-You looked up.

-Shit.

-"I can explain," you said.

-"Explain why you're limping in a Patrick from Sponge bob in heels ?"

-"...yes ?"

-"Why does it sound like a question ?"

-"Because I don't know, I- It was a friend's birthday and they love Sponge Bob and I saw that on Tik tok. It was fun but..."

-"You sprained your ankle with your heels."

-"yes, but I came on foot."

-Alejandro looked at you.

-"I can drive you."

-"Alejandro, you don't need to. I mean it's already enough awkward and-"

-"I don't want you to hurt yourself, plus it's dangerous for everyone to walk on streets at 1 AM, hurt."

-You knew how Alejandro was serious and stubborn.

-"okay." you said, but Alejandro started to kneel down.

-"Wow, what are you doing ?"

-"Taking off your heels, your ankle is swollen it musts hurt like this."

-You let him do it.

-"I feel like Cinderella," you said.

-"Except you're in Patrick's costume and near to some piss in a street."

-You laughed.

-"I guess you were celebrating." you said pointing at the bar behind you.

-"yes, we finished the mission." he said and quickly looked away.

-This mission.

-The one which made you leave him.

-Alejandro was too absent.

-You tried to accept this, he warned you before you dated but after four years, you couldn't bear it anymore.

-"I see."

-He put your shoes in his backpack and looked at you.

-"I will carry you."

-"You don't need it, Alejandro I can walk." you said while you tried but you only hissed at pain.

-"No, you can't."

-"You can't give me a piggyback ride. You have a backpack and..."

-"Bridal style, it's only the time we reach my car."

-You looked at him hesitant and nodded. Then he carried you. This man didn't have muscles for nothing and you knew it but you were still self-conscious.

-Once you reached his car, he drove to your flat. But when you were supposed to enter to your building, you stayed in the car.

-"Alejandro."

-"Y/N."

-"Thanks for tonight, I know for you it's normal, but not a lot of people would have helped their ex like this."

-"Not a lot of people have amazing exes."

-"You're a smooth talker."

-"I am." He smirked.

-"How's Rudy ?" you asked out of nowhere.

-Alejandro was surprised.

-"Fine, but why do you ask ?"

-"I don't want to go back to my flat."

-"Y/N..."

-"I...I don't know if it's because I'm tired, but shit, I want to cry. Because you met me again like this. But also because I thought I could....I could forget you, but I can't because I know we broke up because of an impulsion. I was upset, yes. Yes you ignored me when I was telling you about your absence. But I never tried to think with you of solutions, I only shouted and I felt bad about it," you said tears in your eyes.

-And Alejandro noticed how your body language was unusual.

-"Did you drink, Y/N ?"

-"No, but I think there was something in the food at the birthday's party," you said.

-"okay, then I'm staying with you to be sure you're okay."

-"thanks. And sorry I shouldn't have vent like this."

-"you're not yourself, it's okay, mi cielo." He said while he carried you at your flat's door then opened it.

-"I missed this," you whispered.

-"Miss what ?"

-"you speaking Spanish. Did you know I subscribe to Duolingo after our first date ?" you said.

-"You never told me that."

-"I wanted to impress you."

-"But you have never spoken Spanish to me."

-"Because I never went more further than unit one on duolingo, I'm shitty at this."

-(sorry if you're fluent or good in Spanish ;)

-He laughed.

-"I could have taught you Spanish." Alejandro smiles while he helped you to remove the pink paint on your face.

-"I never think about it."

-"Because you always want to carry everything." Alejandro whispers.

-"I have to."

-"No."

-"But if I don't, who will ? Nobody will carry me." you answered.

-"I will, I wanted to."

-You stayed quiet.

-"I let the trainings of cadets to Rudy one month ago, I also started some cooperation with another squad so I would have more time."

-"But I broke up with you." you realized.

-"It's okay, you didn't know. I...I wanted to surprise you, but I forgot how much I let you carry for me, how much I relied on you without helping you back."

-Tears were rolling on your cheeks. Alejandro wiped them with his thumbs.

-"I'm sorry, corazon," Alejandro said.

-"Me too."

-"We both need to talk next morning, okay ?"

-"okay" you whispered.

-Then he helped you to go to bed. The next morning he was on your sofa.

-And you talked.

-Maybe some things were unfinished between you.

G A Z :

-You met because Soap is a fanboy.

-Let me explain.

-You and Gaz were high school sweethearts. But after his enlistment you both decided it was better to break up, because with you beginning university and him being in the military you wouldn't have had time for each other.

-And you didn't meet again.

-But years later, Soap invited Gaz and Ghost to a concert.

-Soap had been talking for months about this band he loved.

-He even played the music during missions or on the base.

-He played it to wake everyone up, at one point where Price had banned this music of the base.

-So as a result Gaz and Ghost knew the lyrics and could accompany him to the concert.

-Gaz said 'why not ?' he liked the music.

-But when the concert started, he realized you were the bassist for this band.

-His heart beat faster; the nostalgia was here.

-He knew you played bass, hell he couldn't count how many time he let his head on your lap while you played with a smile.

-"You look like you have seen a ghost." Soap said.

-Ghost snorted. (he only came because he liked the music and because the band's logo was a skull.)

-Gaz gave them a look.

-"You're not funny, but yeah I..I know the bassist."

-Oh boy !

-Gaz should never have told that to Soap.

-Johnny had sparkles in his eyes and was jumping for joy. He begged Gaz to talk to the bodyguards, so they could go to the dressing room and get autographs.

-Gaz tried to explain, but he could barely open his mouth before he found himself standing in front of the guard.

-So when they were in front of the dressing room after the concert, Gaz was sweating. How would you react? It had been years since he saw you. Even though it was on good terms, you both had broken up, he didn't know if you want to meet him again.

-The door opened and...

-"Kyle ?" you asked with a smile.

-Gaz fainted.

-Ghost caught him, and you immediately helped them seat Gaz in a chair in the dressing room.

-"Is he okay ?" you asked Soap.

-"I don't know, it's the first time I've seen him like that. I mean we have seen worst than someone smiling ?" Soap said lost.

-"I'm sorry, it's the stress." Gaz said, "I'm happy to meet you again, Y/N."

-"Yeah, the bodyguard told me you wanted to talk. I was so happy. I mean it's been a while," you smiled.

-"yeah." Gaz answered.

-A silence fell.

-Ghost sighed.

-"Are you both going to let the sexual tension in the room continue or can we know how you both know each other ?" Ghost asked

-You cleared up your throat at the comment.

-"You were high school sweethearts. Our relationship lasted like 2 or 3 years ? But we broke up when Kyle enlisted."

-Soap had a big smirk on his face.

-"Really, high school sweetheart ?" Soap asked

-He was going to tease Gaz on the base about this.

-"Yeah, but it's been awhile. Well, we won't bother you anymore. You played great, and we were just here to congratulate you." Gaz said flustered, he hated to be exposed like this.

-"and to ask if you were free, I mean we love your music and want to know more now we know about your past with Gaz" Soap asked.

-You raised your eyebrows and laughed.

-"Sure, I'm free. I guess you have a lot of embarrassing stories about Gaz."

-"I like you already." Soap smiled.

-Gaz never survived the meeting between you and Soap.

-It was one of his top ten embarrassing moments, after calling Price 'dad' in a meeting with Sheperd.

-But at least he had your number now, years later who knows what could happen.

A L E X :

-You met him at a wedding to arrest him.

-"When we were called for a fight at a wedding, I didn't expect you, Alex. What happened ?" you said while you helped him with his bleeding nose.

-"The bride thought her fiancé who's my friend, was cheating on her with me." Alex said while he furrowed his brows

-"And ?"

-"I wasn't. Leo had coffee on his suit, so I brought him a new one and when she walked on us, she saw him half-naked, and I red-faced because I had run from the shop to the wedding."

-You laughed.

-"She had quite a punch," you said while you looked at his broken nose.

-"Yes, she could compete with Price honestly." Alex sighed.

-You didn't say anything else while your colleagues calmed the bride.

-"I guess you're no longer invited to this wedding anymore," you joked.

-"I guess there won't be a wedding anymore either." he added while he laughed.

-"Do you want to see a doctor, or are you okay ?"

-"I'm okay, it's just nosebleed, nothing I haven't dealt with before."

-"Well I should go now that the situation is fixed."

-"Yeah."

-You began to leave, when he called out your name.

-"Yes ?" you answered.

-"It was...nice to see you again."

-"Yeah"

-"I'll text you once I'm home."

-"Okay."

-You left.

-Alex hurried home as quickly as he could to his home as fast as he can.

-Maybe some things were unfinished, like this wedding.

If you want more COD : COD masterlist

And if you want more of my works in other fandoms : my masterlist

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). filthy smut. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: i know i made you guys wait a lot for this but i wanted it to be perfect and i was really busy but it's finally here now! thank you for the love on the first two parts, i love all of you. happy reading!!!

"Oh yes! I forgot about the most exciting part. It's your friend, Pedro Pascal."

You're not sure who it's exciting for, because it's certainly not you. Sure, Jon had no idea what had happened between you and Pedro, but you were hoping he did at the time. Because if he did, he wouldn't be gushing about how exciting it is that the two of you are going to collaborate.

You try to hide your dismay and muster up a smile as Jon continues to talk about how great Pedro is. You can't help but wonder how you're going to make it through this project without letting your personal issues with Pedro get in the way of your work and finally driving you into insanity. 

Regardless, you know you have to remain professional and focused. It's just a job.

"Does he know about me?" you hesitantly ask.

"Yeah, he's known for awhile." Jon replies, "We asked him not to mention anything, but I've gotta say I'm surprised he actually didn't."

"I've got to say I'm surprised too."

•••

For the next few weeks, the only thing on your mind was Pedro. You couldn't stop thinking about what he might have said or what he thought when he found out you were going to work together. This war between you and your brain was pretty stupid because you could just call him or send him a quick text.

Hey, guess what? We're finally going to work together! :)

Simple as that.

The problem was that you didn't want to be the one to bring it up first. You weren't the type to hold a grudge over trivial matters, but here you were, silently punishing him for what he did last month.

One of your last shows on the tour was in New York, and as usual, you invited most of your friends. Even though Pedro had been living in London for the last few months, you still sent him a text inviting him. He had taken a flight for other stuff, so it was safe to assume he would make the effort for this as well.

You: Hey! I know you're in London, but my show at MSG is next week, and everyone's coming. I would like for you to come too :)

Pedrito: Hi, my schedule here is pretty tight for next week. I'm sorry. Next time?

You: Bummer. Sure.

Despite your disappointment, you understood the situation perfectly. His work schedule has become quite hectic recently, as he has been traveling and shooting movies in various locations such as Hawaii, Boston, and now London. Your schedules no longer seemed to be in sync, and neither of you made an effort to rearrange your plans to fit the other. 

Those months he spent filming with Oscar in Hawaii were by far the worst. Mostly because they were having fun and you weren't part of it. To put it mildly, the FOMO nearly killed you. The group chat and his Instagram were filled with pictures of them surfing, hiking, and exploring the island while you were miles away alone.  

The night of the show arrived, and everything went smoothly as planned, leaving you with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. That later changed when, backstage, in the midst of winding down, Oscar approached you with a smile, "Too bad Pedro couldn't make it, he would've loved this outfit."

You smile as you look down at your own stage outfit, knowing he'd like it because of its purple color.

"Too bad he's in London," you reply back.

Oscar's face falls slightly as he responds, "London?"

You nod as you chug down the last of your water bottle.

"No, he got here days ago," he says, huffing a laugh. "I called him so we could ride together, but he never answered. I figured I would run into him here."

"Oh."

Oscar's expression is slightly puzzled, as if he's trying to connect the dots between the two statements. "Is everything okay between you guys?"

You wanted to lie so bad; say yes and play it cool. After all, that's what you two have been doing for the past nine months: playing pretend. But this whole exchange has caught you off guard, and you're not sure if you want to continue with the facade or finally be honest about the situation.

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

For days, you tried to brush it off and convince yourself that it was no big deal, but deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and hurt. He had been there and chose not to go. Not even a call or text to explain or apologize. Nothing.

So, no. You weren't going to text him first, were you?

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

If somebody had told Pedro three years ago that he would be starring as a bounty-hunting badass in a signature Star Wars series, he would've laughed in their face. But here he was, about to start the table read for the first episode of The Mandalorian, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as he waited to see how his character would come to life on screen.

It was a pinch-me moment. He had come a long way since his early days as a struggling actor, and he was grateful for the opportunity to work with such talented people on a project that was sure to be groundbreaking. As he looked around the room at his fellow cast members and crew, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Until his eyes landed on you.

He then felt shame and guilt for how he handled things a month before. He knows he fucked up. You're sitting across from him, the heavy, discerning quality of your gaze sending shivers down his spine. It's as if you're peering right through him, past the gleaming politeness to the rough edges beneath. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.

Your expression says, "Wipe that smile off your face. There's nothing to be happy about."

He was convincing himself that he didn't exactly know what drove him not to tell you the truth about his availability. Except he did. His time away from you had allowed him to get you out of his system, and he didn't want to fall back down the maybe-I-have-feelings-for you rabbit hole again. So in true Pedro fashion, he avoided it.

He knew he'd be back in New York for your concert when you texted him. Yet he boldly lied. And it bit him in the ass.

He couldn't throw away all the progress the two of you had made, so he knew he had to make amends for his behavior before it was too late. He made a mental note to talk to you after the reading was over.

•••

The reading was over in what seemed like an eyeblink. You were so thrilled to be part of this, and even given everything that has happened between you two, you would be lying if you said you weren't happy you're doing this with him.

Though you weren't doing a particularly good job of displaying it. You barely talked to him when you got here, quickly exchanging hellos and moving on to something else.

You were settling into your trailer with your agent, going over some details, when you heard a knock. Your agent quickly rises to unlock the door as you continue to put some of your things in a drawer. When the door opens, you hear him before you see him. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor!"

Taylor couldn't help but laugh at his antics, and you can't either. A smile formed on your lips as you closed the drawer before collecting yourself and remembering that you were really mad at him.

"Pedro, long time no see!" she says as they hug and exchange pleasantries.

Taylor looks my way. "I am going to get some of those snacks we saw earlier," she says, "I'll be back in a bit."

As she exits the trailer, you make your way to the door. Pedro is standing there, dressed in a black sweatshirt, olive green trousers, and white sneakers, which you can only describe as attractive.

Needless to say, he was making it difficult for you to hate him right now.

•••

Pedro's mind goes completely blank when he sees you; it's as if he has forgotten everything else around him and all he can focus on is you, making it hard for him to form coherent sentences.

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

"Is that why you came here?" you inquire, "to tell me my hair's pretty?"

"No, I came here to apologize," he replies back as he steps into the trailer and closes the door behind him. He watches you sit on the edge of the sofa that adorned the room, hands on each side of you, waiting for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath. "I know I messed up and hurt you. I just wanted to make things right, kid."

"Why?"

"Because you’re the last person in the world I want to upset. That would be, like, devastating."

"Hmm," you hum, a blank expression on your face, "you're not doing a very good job at it."

Pedro couldn't help but smirk at your jab, "Clearly. You looked like you were plotting my murder in there."

"Oh, I already know where I'm going to hide your body."

His laugh fills the room, and your face softens. He began walking towards the couch, and you both slumped back into it at the same time. "It's nothing really; I'm over it," you say, staring at the wall.

Pedro tilts his head to look at you, "When will you learn that you're so bad at lying that it's not worth even trying?"

You face him, your beautiful eyes catching him off guard. "This is the worst apology ever, by the way."

"I know, princesa," he says softly. "But I mean it. I'm sorry I didn't go, and I'm sorry it took me this long to apologize."

You slowly nod, your face displaying a hint of uncertainty. As if you're trying to figure out whether he's sincere or not, which he wishes you didn't have to even wonder about. "It's okay if you didn't want to go; I just wish you would've said that instead of lying and making me look like an idiot, P."

No, no, no. I wanted to go, but I'm a fucking coward.

Your words pierced him like a dagger, and the pang of guilt washed over him again. He's been drowning in it for the past few weeks, but to actually hear the disappointment in your voice is a completely different beast.

Before he could even muster up a response, you speak again, "But I forgive you."

Pedro's breathing slowed down as you placed a hand on his thigh, and he heard those words. He reciprocated the gesture and then put his hand over yours, gripping it softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Good," he says, "because now we can properly freak out about this," excitement overflowing through him as he couldn't keep it in anymore.

He needed to share this with you. When the creators of the show approached him, you were the first person that came to his mind. One of the things you've always wanted to be part of was Star Wars, so he knew you would be jealous to find out he was cast in this and couldn't wait to give you a hard time, just like Oscar did when he got the role of Poe.

That plan quickly fell apart when the creators revealed they were bringing you aboard, and even though it meant he couldn't torture you any longer, he was overjoyed you were going to be by his side in this.

“You must be ecstatic,” you tell him, your hands still connected, "this is a big deal."

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

"I did," you attempt to correct yourself, but it’s too late. Pedro has already saved the words for later in his mind. "I mean, we did! We all did. Your friends, I mean. We knew things were only going to get better for you. Even before I met you, I knew you were going to do great things. Sarah talked about it all the time, too, and we're pretty sure this is only the beginning."

He's stunned at the rambling explanation of your thoughts about his rising career. He looks at you with gratitude in his eyes, feeling fortunate to have supportive people like you in his life who believe in him.

The lack of hesitation in your voice did the opposite of what your words had done; it cooled down the hope that had lit up like a flame in his chest.

"Now, come on, let's find Taylor and those snacks," you tell him as you rise up from the couch and extend your hand to him, "I'm hungry, and we still have costume fittings," you add. He puts his hand in yours, restraining himself and letting you struggle to pull him up as you try your hardest to do so.

"You asshole!" you yell, tightening your grip on his hand, "Stop that and get up!"

He can't stop laughing as you finally manage to pull him up. "you need to work on your strength, baby," he says between chuckles.

You scoff and playfully hit him on the shoulder, "My strength is fine, thank you."

"Ow! Who's the asshole now?" he exclaims, rubbing his shoulder.

“And don't call me baby,” you tell him. "I forgave you, but that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

"I don't think it works that way, baby."

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

The next two months were amazing, to say the least. It's as if all the two of you needed was to work together on a TV series to realize how much you needed to be together. Just like your on-screen characters, you two were tied to work together by a third thing, that thing being, of course, the child.

Speaking of the child, you were obsessed with it. You couldn't believe a green, Yoda-like animatronic puppet could win your heart in such a short period of time, but here you were. It was magical. Truth be told, everything about The Mandalorian was magical.

Every day you had to step on that immaculate set that's built and surrounded by volume, which creates an infinite sort of visual experience in terms of skies, planets, space, ships, and all kinds of things, was magical.

It just felt like you were stepping onto these highly sophisticated amusement park rides, with very little being left to the imagination because of how incredible the design work is from all the departments.

Another magical thing was seeing Pedro bring the character to life. His ability to convey so much depth and complexity to a character that is mostly hidden behind a mask is truly impressive. From crafting his "Mandalorian" walk and stance to his deep, jarring voice.

That voice.

That voice was made to torture you and send shivers down your spine. That voice made you forget all of your life's problems. Actually, that voice was made for one thing and one thing only, the bedroom.

"Oh my god, it doesn't sound like a bedroom voice!" he protested, as he highlighted lines in his script.

You were joining him and the creators in the recording booth for his voiceover session.

"It does! It's a sexy bedroom voice." you teased, making everyone laugh. "That's not very Disney of you, P." 

He gets closer to the mic and whispers, voice altered because of the modulator, "Bite me."

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

You were having as much fun as you could. Simply put, you two were menaces on set.

You could tell Jon, Dave, and the rest of the crew were patient with your antics, but it was clear that they were also entertained by your on-set dynamic. It's not everyday that you get to work with your best friend, and you two made it everyone's problem.

Although sometimes you have to admit you take it a little too far.

"Catch me if you can, Boba Fett wannabe!" you scream.

Pedro was chasing you through the set with a prop sword, trying to get you to stop teasing him about his costume. "You are one insult away from getting a taste of this sword!"

"Okay, tin can man!"

You were running away from him as fast as you could, hoping to find a place to hide before he caught up with you. You quickly hide behind one of the makeup trailers and peek out to see him come to a stop, catching his breath. He was wearing his Beskar getup, minus the helmet.

“Give up yet, old man?"

He laughs. "We're being extra cruel today, huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary pause and facing away from where you were hiding, you slowly inch closer to him, trying not to make a sound. As you get within arm's reach, you draw one of your prop knives from your costume pocket and hold it to his back. Using your free hand to hold him steady, you lean in and whisper in his ear, "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

He turns his head slightly, and you can see the smirk on his face. "That's my line, thief."

Before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. He takes hold of you and tightens his grasp on your waist. "Let me go, P!"

You struggle to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. "I am going to squeeze you so hard you will fart," he chuckles.

You snort. "You have such a way with words."

As you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you accidentally elbow him in the face, causing him to release his hold on you and stumble into a piece of plywood that had been propped up.  

"Aw, fuck!" he cries out, clutching his nose.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" you rush to him, cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

He removes his hand from his nose, revealing a cut and a trickle of blood. "It's alright, just a bloody nose," he says calmly.

You touch his nose gingerly, and he winces in pain. "Nevermind, I think it is broken."

•••

You begged Jon to let you ride to the hospital with them; after all, this was your fault. When you get there, the doctors rush to Pedro's side and begin examining him.

If you weren't preoccupied with being mortified over this, you'd laugh.

The scene before you is straight out of a sitcom, with Jon frantically explaining the situation to the doctors, Pedro in full costume with fake injuries and blood that you were pretty sure the doctors thought were real, and you standing there with an expression that screamed: Hey! It's me! I did this!

After a couple of minutes of clearing up that it was an accident and that the blood coming out of his ears was fake and not the cause of a brain hemorrhage, one of the doctors led us to a room to examine his nose.

"It's not broken," the doctor said, as she prepared to clean the wound. "He's just going to need a couple of stitches."

"Oh great, we still need to finish a scene, and they're waiting for us." Jon replies.

"This will take 15 minutes, tops," she says, grabbing a tray of medical supplies. “I will be fast.” 

"I'll call the guys," Jon tells you as he exits the room.

You nod in agreement and stand in a corner as you silently watch the doctor carefully clean, anesthetize and stitch up the wound. You feel relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. 

After she finishes, Pedro thanks her, and she nods with a smile. "You're going to need to take some analgesics for the pain. I'm gonna go grab my prescription pad. I'll be right back."

She exits the room, and you walk over to Pedro. He moves his head slightly, showing off his nose.

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I can't believe I ruined your perfect nose."

"Who said it isn't perfect still?" he says it as if it were a challenge. His brow is arched, with the tiniest smirk hidden in one corner of his mouth.

"Don't start. I'm mortified."

"Tranquila, princesa. I said it was okay after you apologized 20 times on our way here," he reassures you. "Plus, now we have a funny story to tell during our press tour next year."

You sigh. "I guess you're right."

"You know," he says, "what hurts right now is that today is our last day of shooting. I can't believe it's been two months already. Time fucking flew."

Your heart sinks as you're once again reminded that this amazing experience is coming to an end. The day you've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and you're not ready to say goodbye. It's not like you already know you'll be back next year for the next season, but you're not ready to say goodbye to him and the daily routine you've formed, which mostly consists of breakfasts together, long hours on set, and late-night movie marathons. 

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," you muttered, "gonna miss our little routine."

Pedro studies you. "Maybe we can extend it for a little while longer."

Not knowing where this is going, you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Pedro smiles, "I..I was thinking maybe... maybe you could come with me to Chile for Christmas with the family." 

Your heart skips a beat as you process Pedro's words. You open your mouth slightly to say something, but you close it again, momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation. 

"Uh… I know you probably have plans with your family,” he interjects, “but I thought this would be a good time for you to finally meet my father and the rest of the family, and—" 

Before he could finish, you nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas in Chile with Pedro and his family, “Yes, I would love to." 

You've never seen him smile as broadly as he does now, and you know that you have made the right decision. 

New York City

December 15, 2018

“Dude, he invited you to his hometown with his family, and you still think that man has no feelings for you?” 

“Taylor...” you paused, picking up a clothing item that had fallen to the floor. “It's just a friendly gesture.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he invites everyone to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Sureee.” 

You didn't want to go there; you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't get entangled in what ifs, so your friend's teasing wasn't helping you keep those thoughts at bay. 

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that. I know he doesn't,” you say, suddenly remembering that night when you overheard him telling Sarah how he felt about you. “Plus, as my agent, you more than anyone know I can't do relationships right now; my life's too busy." 

Taylor finished zipping up the last of your bags for the trip and gave you a reassuring smile. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little fun, does it? And who knows—maybe he has changed his mind. Just enjoy the trip and have fun." 

No, he hasn’t changed his mind. 

“Yeah, I just want to have a good time, really. Things have been so good between us these past couple of months, It just feels...right again. I don’t wanna mess it up.” 

"Understandable, bestie. However, I think you’re both making a huge mistake.” 

You shake your head in amusement. “Thanks for helping me pack.” 

“Thanks?” she scoffs. "I'm expecting a raise." 

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

After the chaos of the day leading up to the flight, it was actually a relief to be sitting here. The large, comfortable seat, with your feet tucked up under you as you gazed out the jet window, felt very much deserved.  

While the gentle buzz of the flight filled your ears, you laid your head against the window of the plane and watched the clouds and the seemingly endless expanse of sky fly by.

As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention on what was outside the plane rather than allowing your mind to wander to what would await you once you arrived at your destination. The mixture of excitement and exhaustion lulled you into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the journey that lay ahead. 

•••

The taxi ride from the airport to the Balmaceda-Pascal's was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, but you couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder and curiosity as you took in the new surroundings. As the car comes to a stop in front of the house, you shoot Pedro a quick text. 

You: I'm here, tonto. 

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta. 

Since you still had a few things to attend to in New York, he had arrived two days earlier. After insisting like a madman that he could pick you up from the airport and you insisting like a madwoman that you could easily get there on your own, he gave up and let you take a cab. 

The driver has already gotten out of the car to wrestle the luggage from the trunk. You clamber out after him into the brilliant sunlight, the heat instantly making your travel outfit—which consisted of a pair of black leggings, a sweatshirt, and Pedro's Freaky Tales green hoodie—feel suffocatingly thick. The change in temperature is a shock to your system, having just come from New York's freezing climate. 

“Hey you!” Pedro's booming voice interrupts your thoughts, “Nice hoodie. Where'd you get it?” 

“Um, someone left it at my place a while ago, and I decided to keep it. It's really comfy.” 

Pedro smiles and nods, "It suits you. You should wear it more often." 

“Thanks, but not here,” you tell him, your face flushing from the heat. ”It's burning hot."  

“Welcome to Chile, where it's scorching hot during the winter and freezing cold during the summer,” he says in a joking tone, as he tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Let's get inside, it's cooler.”  

The moment you stepped into the house, you were greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning. The house was lovely. You take in the Mediterranean decor style and the large windows that let in natural light as you look around. On either side of the foyer, stone archways lined the way up two stories to an ornate ceiling.

As you make your way to the living room, you catch a glimpse of the various family pictures that adorn the walls. The living room was spacious and inviting, with plush couches and a fireplace that made you feel right at home. 

Dropping your bags next to the stairs that led to the second floor, Pedro places a hand in your back and gestures you towards a hallway, “C'mon, everyone is out back.” 

At the back of the house, tangled trees press close, the forest extending as far as you can see, and off to the left, in the meadow, a gazebo adorned with wild grapes stands within a smaller thicket of trees. Bright glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders swing in the branches, and the path cuts past a row of flowering bushes before curving onto a footbridge and then disappearing into the mountains on the far side. 

It's like something out of a storybook. Charming, picturesque, and perfect. 

“You're here!” A familiar voice drew your attention back to earth. “And right on time. How was your flight?” 

Pedro's sister, Javiera, lit up with a smile as she hugged you tightly. You returned the embrace, grateful for her warm welcome. "It was long, but good nonetheless," you replied with a smile.  

“Well, if it isn't the infamous best friend I keep hearing about?” you turned around to see Pedro's father approach you with a friendly smile on his face. 

"Yup, that's me," you reply, extending your hand for a handshake. 

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, shaking your hand. "Pedro talks about you all the time."

“I hope good things,” you chuckle, “and it's great to finally meet you too, Mr. Balmaceda.” 

“Oh, please call me José,” he tells you, waving his hands. Just like his son, you notice that José has a warm and welcoming personality, making you feel at ease. “And please, make yourself feel at home; we're thrilled to have you.” 

“No, he's thrilled to have a world famous superstar staying at his house,” Nicolás, Pedro's brother, retorts back at his father. Making everyone laugh and leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Oh, I don't know about being a superstar," you say lowly. 

“Are you kidding?" Nicolás cuts you off as he takes a seat, "Don't be modest. It's literally an honor to have you here." 

“Yeah, you're sooo cool,” Javiera's older son added. 

"Okay, alright, that's enough." Javiera must have noticed your embarrassed expression. She reached out to you and held you by the shoulders, reassuring you. “Let's not overwhelm her with too much praise. Let's give her some space, she must be tired." 

And she was right. The almost 12 hour flight has left you feeling exhausted, jet lagged, and in need of a very long nap. 

"Vamos princesa, I'll take you to your room." Pedro turned around and led the way towards the room while you followed him closely, trying to keep your eyes open and fighting the urge to just collapse on the floor. 

As you reached the second floor, your attention was drawn back to the house. “This place is so gorgeous, P.” 

“We got it a couple of years ago. We wanted something a little bit bigger so we could have everyone over for vacations, and we also wanted something that felt like home, you know?” 

“I love it,” you tell him.  

“This is your room,” he says, jerking his chin at the door on the right, “and this is mine.” 

He opens the door to the room on the left. His room, much like mine, is absolutely huge. The bed is along the wall immediately to your right as you enter, a recklessly comfortable looking king size bed doused under the weight of a fluffy duvet and an insane amount of pillows.

The bedding is bright white and contrasts sharply with the dark wooden floorboards. "Your bed looks like a big fluffy cloud," you say, giggling. 

"It feels like one," he says, smiling. He can tell what you're thinking by the look in your eyes,"Go on, I know you want to." 

Like a little kid, you start running towards the bed, feeling the softness of the plush carpet under your feet. As you sink into the bed, you realize that it's even more comfortable than it looks, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh. 

“P, I’m never moving again,” you say, your voice drifting over to him. 

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

“Hmm, why exactly?” you turn over onto your stomach and lean against your elbows to face him. 

"Because it's my bed," he simply states, "and I have plenty of plans that don't include you spending the entire trip in my bed."  

Bravery takes over, and you give him a playful smirk. "Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure those plans change then."

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Good luck with that, sweetheart.”

You know this is cruel. You were torturing yourself. Being so optimistic was cruel, but because of your longing and deep, hidden desires, you couldn't help but indulge in silly fantasies and play along. 

“Alright, I'll go to mine,” you say with a forced smile as you get off the bed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I need to nap right now, or I'll die.” 

“I will, uh, come get you for dinner later.” 

“Sure, boss,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as you walk past him to leave the room.  

“Sweet dreams.” 

In the past four days, you've learned many things.

First, Chile was sickeningly beautiful. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the breathtaking scenery of the Andes Mountains made you feel like you were in a dream. It spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt, with each square representing a different aspect of its culture and history. From the bustling city streets to the serene beaches.

The food was also a highlight, and you're pretty sure you gained a few pounds from indulging in the delicious local cuisine.

“Here, try this one.”

“That's the biggest empanada I've ever seen in my life,” you exclaimed as you took a bite of the savory pastry, filled with juicy meat and vegetables. “This is so fucking good.”

Pedro chuckles. “It's filled with a mixture called Pino.” 

“Okay, forget the manjar. This,” you say, mouth full, “is my new favorite thing in this country.” 

Pedro gasps. “I thought I was your favorite thing in this country.” 

You grin and give him a playful nudge. "Okay, fine. You're still my favorite, but this empanada might take the top spot."  

“That's better,”  you look up at him, trying not to melt then and there at the signature wide grin spread across Pedro's gorgeous face. “But you know, there's still plenty of time for me to prove that I deserve the top spot.” 

You chuckle at his remark, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We'll see about that, Pascal," you reply, taking another bite of the delicious empanada and secretly hoping he succeeds in his mission. 

•••

Second, Pedro's family were the warmest hosts you could have imagined, eager to share their traditions and stories with you. They accepted you as one of their own and made you feel like a member of the family.

They took you on various adventures throughout the city, showing you hidden gems that only locals knew about. The tradition of taking a trip to a hiking site outside the city whenever all of them got together was in motion and this year it was the Valley of the Moon's turn.

“That hike was so worth it, guys," Nico says, a little out of breath from climbing up the steep trail. 

Damn right, it was. As you're standing atop a giant sand dune, you're bewildered by what you're witnessing. The view as the sun slips below the horizon is out of this world. The ring of volcanoes and surreal lunar landscapes of the valley are suddenly suffused with intense purples, pinks, and golds. It's the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen. 

You quickly grab the camera that's hanging around your neck and start taking pictures, trying to capture the breathtaking moment before it fades away. “Guys, get together!” you shout, “A family photo with this stunning backdrop is a must.”  

As you finish taking the pictures, Pedro's voice breaks the silence, “Javi, grab the camera and take one of us, please.” 

You comply and hand the camera to her. Pedro sneaks a hand around your waist and pulls you close, “Smile, princesa.” 

“Don't tell me what to do,"  you playfully retort, leaning into him and smiling for the camera. 

•••

And third, Pedro has always had a thing for theatrics. Today, some of you decided to take a trip to the beach. The heat was unbearable, and the cool ocean water sounded like the perfect way to beat it.  

He would often come out of the ocean dramatically, splashing water all around and pretending to be a sea monster to scare his nephews. As soon as he saw the waves, he ran towards them and jumped into the water with a loud roar. His nephews laughed and cheered him on as he swam towards them, pretending to be a giant creature ready to attack. 

After spending most of the day in the water, you were sitting down on the sand, attempting to make sand castles with one of Pedro's cousins. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing, making you feel relaxed. “My god, he's like a kid,” you tell her, looking at Pedro as he continued to play with his nephews, now closer to the shore. 

She laughs. “He's always been like this. As a child, he was always playful and energetic, and he never lost that spirit as he grew up. It's one of the many things we love about him."

The sandcastle you were working on was slowly starting to take shape. Pedro's cousin continued to build it and tell you stories about him, letting nostalgia wash over you.

She told you about his grandfather and how he used to take them to watch double features of old movies, and how that heavily influenced Pedro's love for storytelling and cinema. You didn’t know him then, and you'll never understand why it feels like you did. “But you know, one of my absolute favorite memories is when he recited Hamlet here on the beach with Grandpa." 

“Actually, it was Death of a Salesman, cousin.”  

His voice startles you as you turn to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face. "I do remember that day," he continued as he lowered himself onto the sand behind you, legs on each side of your body. He places a hand on your thigh for a brief moment as he settles behind you before removing it.

You want nothing more than to reach out and put his hand back on you, to insist he keep touching you but you don’t. 

He starts helping you with the sandcastle, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his familiar warmth spread through your body. Droplets of water from his hair fall onto your warm skin, and the small elephant tattoo on his right inner thigh catches your eye as he reaches for a shovel,  "I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it but lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the States.” 

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.” 

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I can reenact it for you.” 

“Please do.”  

•••

Pedro suggested you two go outside and stargaze with a glass of wine after returning from the beach. The evening summer breeze was much cooler than the daytime breeze. You were both sitting on the back porch, leaning back on the cushioned chair, the wooden floor creaking under your weight.

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”  

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Pedrito?”

You can't help but stare as Pedro throws back his head, a bellowing laugh escaping him into the quiet night air. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if that means another bottle of wine, then so be it." 

He reaches for your glass, hands touching briefly, and pours you some more. Even in the dark, the blinding white of his smile and the twinkle in those achingly beautiful brown eyes are impossible to miss.

With the moon low in the sky, his silhouette was even clearer to you: the way the bridge of his nose dips into the top of the large glass, the delicate hold of his fingers on the stem, and the mess of his hair.

Cicadas screamed into the night air as the taste of the rich, velvety wine danced on your tongue. Now, slightly tipsy on the red wine, you were nearly too lost in your memory of the moment to notice that Pedro had turned his head from above to look at you. Clearly, your staring had captured his attention, but you went to stare resolutely at the night sky again. 

He sobered quickly, but his eyes never left you. You felt the weight of his lingering stare and were thankful that the darkness of the night and warmth of the fire covered your suddenly flushed cheeks. “Excited for Christmas tomorrow?” you ask softly, trying to break the tension with a light-hearted question. 

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile, "but I'm more excited that you get to spend it with us."

A warmth filled your chest, and if your cheeks weren't already blushing already, they certainly were now, but you wouldn’t look away from him. The meaning wasn’t lost on you. “Thank you for inviting me, really. I thought I was going to be sad, but you guys have made me feel at home." 

Pedro frowns. “What do you mean? About being sad.”  

“I kind of hate this season now because it reminds me how lonely I am,” you chuckle, gripping the wine glass slightly tighter. “And don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends, but after you spend years with someone, Christmas just feels different without them around, you know? It's like...” you trail off, trying to put into words the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you. “Like there's a void that can't be filled no matter how many people are around you. And-and it's not like I miss that person in particular, I just miss having someone.” 

His unblinking eyes hadn’t left yours, and you continued, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally get that out of your system. “I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s just a reminder that things change. you meet people and you love them, and then you lose them. It's inevitable, and it happens to everyone.” 

It falls quiet between you again, the familiarity of the years of friendship meaning you are both comfortable with it. The weight of what you just said still hangs heavy in the air until he nods slowly, breaking the silence. “I get it. I feel the same way somehow,” you tear your eyes away from the constellations above to stare at him quizzically, a raised eyebrow telling him to elaborate. 

He huffs out a laugh, as if he's amused by your confusion or embarrassed by his own vulnerability, and continues, “I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't date. I'm saving myself from that.”

“Yeah, I guess now I am too,” you respond, nodding in understanding.

"Also, not to sound like an arrogant asshole—" 

“Which you probably will anyway,” you add in a playful tone. 

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he says mockingly. “But my schedule is busy, if I wanna be involved in something, I want to pay attention to it and nurture it. It takes energy to be with someone.” 

“It's not arrogant, it's the truth. I was telling Taylor the same thing the other day,” you tell him. “I can't date because I don't have the time to, but...” 

“But what?” Pedro interrupts. 

“Don't rush me, dude,” you chuckle. “But I'm also human, and I have needs sometimes, and it sucks that I can't just go to a bar like a regular person and sit on the barstool, have a drink, and wait for someone to approach me so we can go to their place and have sex and forget about it the next morning,” you finally admit, staring down at your finger swirling over the rim of your glass. 

“No strings attached," he adds, his voice scratchy. “I, um, ha. I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.”

“Hooking up with someone like that in our world would involve lots of NDAs,” you say, laughing. 

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.” 

His eyes were doing the thing, the Pedro thing, and you did your best to ignore the way your heart lurched. The moment was charged with tension, and you both knew that there was more to say, and since neither of you dared to break the silence, someone else decided to break it for you, clearing their throat loudly and making you both jump. You turn to see Javiera standing by the door, looking amused and a little bit smug. 

"I just wanted to let you guys know the rest of us are going out for dinner, in case you're interested in joining us," she said, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Uh, no. Thanks, I'm beat. The wine has made me sleepy.” 

“I'm gonna have to pass too, sis,” Pedro tells her. “You guys have fun.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with a sly smile. “We'll be back late!” 

After she leaves, you stand up and stretch your arms, feeling the effects of the wine yourself. “Woah. Too much wine,” you chuckle. “I should head to bed now before I regret it in the morning.”

“Me too,” he breathes out as he gets up, collecting his glass and yours. "Goodnight, princesa," he adds with a smile before you head towards the door. “Goodnight, P.” 

•••

As soon as you entered your room, you immediately hopped in the shower, hoping to wash away the exhaustion from the day and also the dirty thoughts that had been lurking in your mind.

The warm water cascading down your body helped ease the tension in your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh. After a few minutes, you stepped out and changed into fresh clothes. 

As you lie in bed, the conversation you had an hour before with Pedro seems to replay in your mind. 

I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cross that line again. The last time you took that black, bold line and made it gray, it came with consequences. But you're not known for making the best decisions when it comes to these matters anyway. 

You start to feel anxious and restless, unable to quiet your thoughts or fall asleep.

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

As you walk out of the bedroom, everything is dark, meaning everyone is still out for dinner. You have only the soft glow of the city outside the large windows to guide your way. 

Hesitating as you walk through the hallway towards the stairs, you slow your steps, not entirely trusting your eyes to keep you from running into anything in the dark, unfamiliar space in such low light. Before you reach the stairs, you notice the light underneath Pedro's room, casting a faint glow onto the hallway carpet.

He's still up, you thought. 

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were heading toward his room. 

“Pedro?” you call out his name as you gently knock on the door, “You up?”

“Bathroom! Come in!”  he screams. You reach the doorknob and push it open. The sound of water running fills your ears as you step inside. You plop down sideways on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, and wait for him to finish his shower. The chilly night air seeps in through the slightly open door of his balcony, making you shiver. 

“Can't sleep?” His voice is soft and soothing as he walks out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and wearing only black boxers. You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the way just looking at his face, with his golden skin from all the sun exposure, the shadow of dark scruff on his cheeks, and his brown eyes crinkled by a soft smile, makes your heart race. 

“Nope,” you mumble. “Too much on my mind, I guess.” 

“Enlighten me, please,” he quickly replies, returning to the bathroom. You get off the bed, take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself, but the sight of him in those boxers makes it difficult. You know that if you start talking about what's really on your mind, things might get even more complicated between the two of you. 

“Uh...” you huffed out a laugh as the scenario played in your head, your legs almost giving out as you felt your guts twisting. Your mouth fell slightly agape as he stepped back into the room, “What's so funny?” he inquired. You fidget with your fingers and look at him, still chuckling a bit, “That conversation we had earlier. I can't stop thinking about it," 

Pedro leaned against the bathroom door, his face puzzled, reflecting that he had no idea which of the many conversations you two had today you were referring to. “The one about hooking up, I mean. And how you wish you could do that too," you continue, not bothering to try and hide the small beginnings of a smile from Pedro's watchful gaze, entirely more interested in testing the waters than anything else.

“Oh?” is all Pedro gives by way of a reply, not that you mind much since that works just as well as a real answer theoretically could. “Oh," you confirm. This could go either way, but as of right now, you're willing to take the risk. 

His gaze is fixed on you, and you go back to lying on the bed, closing your eyes as if you're bracing for the impact of the unknown. “I was wondering if—and I might be making a complete fool of myself by saying this—but what if...” you trail off. "What if we..?” you can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, suddenly realizing that once you say it, you can't take it back. 

“Fucked?” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open, surprised by his bluntness. You sit up on the bed, heart racing as you try to gather the courage to speak. “I mean, we-we know each other, and we're both horny, and we wouldn't have to sign any NDAs,” you joke, trying to lift the weight off the air.  

"That's true," Pedro quips quickly, though any hint of eagerness in his reply is tempered by the softness of his voice. You feel the blush that rises in your cheeks at the implication in his words and you look away, seemingly breaking the trance you’ve been in. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“Would you rather have me say no?” he chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans one shoulder into the doorframe and deciding that for now he’ll stay where he is, knowing he looks like a smug jerk but unable to help himself. 

“No!” you tell him, rather eagerly. “I mean, of course you can say no. We don't have to do this if you're not into it,” you add softly. 

He says your name and looks into your eyes, "My answer's yes.”

“Okay, but I have some rules,” you get off the bed, body tensed with anticipation. “Of course you do,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrow and giving you a knowing smile. 

“No feelings. This can only happen while we're here. Once we go back to our normal lives, this never happened,” you tell him. He nods, taking a slow step forward and then another, and although there’s still a great deal of space between the two of you, you can feel the tension building. "Also, we can't tell anybody about this, not even our closest friends,” you continue.

He's closer now, feeling his breath on your face, and his hands find their way to your waist. "It's our little secret," he whispers, and you grab his shoulders to steady yourself.

“And no nicknames. No princesa, no baby, no love,” you try to sound stern but your voice betrays the excitement you feel. 

He grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But there's no fun in that.” 

“Fine. You can call me whatever you want,” you give in, finding his amusement endearing.  

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles, his grin widening. “Are you done with your rules?” 

“Yes, I guess so,” you stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so easily swayed by his charm. 

“Good,” he says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “So I can start doing this,” he whispers, his hand sliding down your pajama shorts, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. "And this," he adds, as his lips press against your neck. 

When you finally make yourself let go and stop fighting for some false sense of restraint for even one second longer, you notice that something changes in the way Pedro touches you, as if he's more confident and sure of himself.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your head to hold you in place. You do the same, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders for support. The tip of his finger under your shorts traces over where you’re slick and too ready for him. His mouth is tantalizingly close to yours, brown eyes staring into yours, pining and desperately waiting. “Can I?” he asks. 

It's humorous and sweet even that he's asking permission to kiss you when one of his hands is already under your pants. Every rational thought disappears, and you crush your mouth against his. 

Everything is slow and heavy, and he never lets his finger slide into you even when you silently beg for it. Just dragging it over and back—too little and too much all at the same time.

He presses the pad of his finger into your clit, and you have to break away from his mouth to groan, overwhelmed, knees wobbly. Pedro laughs quietly and nuzzles against your neck so his beard scruffs. 

“Mi princesa,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly, “you make such pretty sounds." 

There is a real chance you could spontaneously combust into flames just from the sound of his voice and his sweet nothings. He continues to draw circles on your clit making you moan and writhe in pleasure, feeling like you're about to explode with ecstasy. As he whispers more sweet words in your ear, you can't help but surrender to the intense sensations he's giving you.  

“Is that good?” he asks, his voice rough, “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes," you whisper, a hand traveling to his hair, tugging it tightly. “Yes.” 

Just when you're about to come undone, he suddenly stops. Your eyes quickly find his for some explanations as to why he decided to put on hold the very satisfying and impending orgasm that was building up within you. “Oops,” he simply states, a grin plastered on his face.  

“I fucking hate you,” you whine, pulling away from him. “I was so close! What you do that for?”

"I have some rules, too."

“Now?” you ask him, clearly frustrated with his antics. “Well, go on.” 

“Actually, it's just one,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrows and giving you a knowing smile. His reaction is met by narrowed eyes, like you’re making sure to watch him closely until you figure out where exactly he’s going with this. "You do as I say. Which also means you come when I say." 

“Sounds—” you're regaining your footing, regaining control over yourself, trying to reinstate some power, but the way he just said those words has taken away any sense of authority you thought you had. His voice is commanding, with no room for compromise or disobedience. “Sounds dangerous, but... alright.” 

“Good girl, now get on the bed,” he says, and the timbre of his voice nearly kills you then and there, the dropping pitch making the words come out rough and serious. Pedro still sounds like himself, since his normal voice is more than enough to make you a little weak at the knees on a regular day, this new variant is a completely different monster. 

You lay there, waiting for his next instruction, as the shadows danced on the walls and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence. Once he reaches the bed and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of your thighs, bending down until he’s face to face with you, your eyes level with his. You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his torso, feeling his tense muscles relax under your touch. 

“I need you now, P,” you mumble, and you move your hand lower to hold him through his boxers. He twitches into you. 

“What did I say?” his dark eyes are fixed on you as he reaches for your hand and pins it above your head. "I don't think you fully understand the consequences of disobeying me. We'll do this my way," he whispers menacingly.

This dark side of Pedro is one you've never seen before. The Pedro you know is a sunshine. However, the man on top of you right now is a completely different person, and you're more than the ready to get to know him. 

“Keep your hands above your head. No touching."

Your body is aching for him, all willing and open, but he’s sliding down you, pushing your shorts down as he goes. His soft hands trace your thighs and stops at your knees, “Open up for me.” 

"So pretty," he says, voice thick. You look down to see his face, pupils blown wide. “Can't wait to taste you, baby.” 

You're a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. You don't even need to be looking at his face to know how arrogant he is right now, not that you could—it's buried deep inside between your thighs. You're desperate to grab his hair just to see where misbehaving will take you, but you settle for the headboard. 

He kisses your cunt, messy and hot. A groan rumbles in his throat and he moves his tongue in circles, exploring every inch of your wetness. You arch your back, lost in pleasure, as he continues to devour you with his mouth. When you look down again, his brown eyes are staring back at you as his fingers slide into you, finding the right spot in milliseconds. It's fucking game over. 

His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue and his goddamn nose. “Pedro...” you whimper, out of breath. “P-Please let me cum." 

“Not yet, baby," he chuckles, fingers continue to expertly tease and stroke your sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "I know you can hold it for a little longer,” you cry out, gripping the bedsheets as you desperately try to move your hips to ride his fingers. Your eyes are watering slightly from how good he’s making you feel. 

“You can cum now.”

Every part of your body spasms, and you scream, everything buzzing and vibrating as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and electricity flooding your body. Removing his fingers, he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up to your belly and lips. As you try to catch your breath, he whispers in your ear, "That was just the beginning. I want to make you cum again and again."

You can tell Pedro loves the way your face heats up at his words. “Please do,” you tell him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and your wandering hands are met by bare, warm skin and the short, neatly cropped hair that grows thicker the further down your fingers dare to venture.

“I know you said you're in charge, but I really need you to take this off,” you say, losing your ability to wait for orders. To your surprise, he complies and gets off the bed, slides down his boxers, just as you get rid of your t-shirt. You can't help but admire the sight of him fully exposed and ready for you, moving to the drawer to pull out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself. 

“You can take a picture, it'll last longer." 

“Don't get cocky.”

Pedro settles between you once again, and you grab his face. His eyes glistened, his hot breath on your skin as he leans in closer. Your thumb brushes against the tiny white scar on his nose. “You've marked me forever,” he chuckles, as he cradles your head and kisses you, his nose brushing against yours. 

You grab his length and give him a slow, steady stroke from base to tip, then back down. His mouth leaves yours as his dick twitches in your firm grasp, causing him to groan involuntarily. The pace of your hand up and down his length never picking up or slowing down, instead maintaining the same teasingly slow pace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.” 

Pedro guides himself over you, the head of his cock slipping over where you’re open, up to rub on your clit so your fingers dig into his shoulders. His nose nudges gently against yours, “I'll be gentle, princesa.” 

“I don't want you gentle. I want you rough.” 

“Is that so?”

You moan, eyes closing. You can't even remember how to breathe, let alone speak. Pedro pushes only his head into you, opening you before pulling out, leaving you contracting around nothing. “I'm going to fuck you roughly, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?”

“Yes, P,” you rasp, hands sliding across his back. He's playing with you and knows how to make it almost unbearably good. He pushes deeper into you this time, and you can feel your body resist, protesting that he's too big, too much, and he pulls out. He drags his cock over where you're slick and messy before thrusting forward as far as he can. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, back arching and pushing your stomach into his. "Oh my God.”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Like you're made for me." 

Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, to keep him there, deep inside you. His head drops to your shoulders, pressing his lips to your collarbone. You're close, again.

“Please...” you beg, moaning like you've lost all sanity, his mouth pulls away slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and husky. 

“More, please, I need more."

The way Pedro's fucking you right now borders on dangerous, making you question lots of things—things you'd rather not think about right now, as he reaches for your hand and places it on your lower stomach. “Feel that?” 

You're not sure who moans louder: you when you realize why he's put your hand here, or Pedro when your walls clench involuntarily around his cock at the sensation. Your entire body tightens as you cry out, coming undone once again. 

He presses his lips against your forehead and rolls you over, his cock still buried inside you. 

“Pedro…that was…” you pant, body on top of his. “Did you come?”

He smirks. “Not yet, because you're gonna ride me now.” 

Despite the fact that your body is weak and spent, the simple thought of being on top of him is enough fuel to make you feel a surge of energy. You straddle his hips, feeling his hardness against you, and sinking down on his dick. 

“Like this?” you ask as you begin to move your body in sync with his, Your hips swirl and grind down, and Pedro's face is filled with pleasure. “Yes, mi amor. Just like that.” 

Every rock of your hips and the way Pedro's pushing into you are the perfect rhythm. His hands grip your hips so tight, you're pretty sure it'll leave bruises for days. You lean down, his mouth close by your ear, as he fucks into you, hearing him whisper things only you get to hear. “you feel so good, baby, taking my cock so fucking well.”  

Everything is so overwhelming—your body responding to his every thrust and word. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, and you never want it to end. Collapsing onto his chest, your fingers reach up to grip his hair. The satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes through the room, and you're suddenly glad there's no one in the house. 

Pedro slaps your ass as you're still rocking back against his thrust. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes!” you moaned as your body trembled with pleasure, mouth crashing into his, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back, and you feel him spill into the condom. He curses out your name as he's twitching and spasming inside you.

The post-sex haze settles over you both as you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. After a couple of minutes, Pedro finally slips out of you and heads to the bathroom. You manage to get up, body aching. As you gather your clothes from the floor and dress up, he emerges from the bathroom, his face puzzled.

“What are you doing?” 

You chuckle, “Leaving.” 

Of course you didn't want to leave, but since you agreed this was just sex and nothing more, staying sounds like a dangerous situation.

There's no need to make this situation more complicated than it already is, even if you gaslight yourself into thinking this is fine as long as you're both on the same page. 

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.” 

“Pedro, we said—"

“I know what we said, but stay. Just for tonight.” 

You give him a warning look, and he gives you the same look back. “It'll make me feel dirty if you leave." you burst out laughing, and his face turns red. How's this the same man that just minutes ago was whispering the filthiest things into your ear?  

“Okay, I'll stay.”  

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no signs of Pedro. If you weren't lying on his bed, legs hurting like you ran a marathon, and your body wrapped in his warm blankets, you would have thought it was all a dream. Because in your dreams is the only place you are together, it's where you come home to him and he comes home to you. 

You could still feel his hands moving over your skin, his breath on your neck, and the way he whispered in your ear, making you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

Except it wasn't lovemaking; it was just sex. 

The warmth of the hot chilean sun spilled through the bedroom window, casting a golden glow on the walls and illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air. The distant sound of soft music and laughter from downstairs made you smile as you sat up against the headboard. 

The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Pedro wearing the coziest looking sweater, his dark hair all over the place, and presumably a cup of coffee in his hand. “Good morning, solecito,” he says sitting down next to you. "I made you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it." 

You take the cup from his hand, fingers touching. “It can't possibly still be morning,” you rasp, voice still hoarse. 

“No, it's not," he tells you. “It's 2:30pm.” 

The fear in your face is palpable. “Fuck, did I miss the gift exchange?” you blurt out.

Pedro's pursed lips and guilty expression made it clear that you, in fact, missed the happiest time of the day. “No...” you dragged out, “Why didn't you wake me up?!” you demanded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep, you looked so peaceful," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But if it makes you feel better, everyone loved what you got them." 

You groan in response. “I hate you so much.”

“Are you always this mean when you wake up?" 

You shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “Eh, only when I have to deal with people who make me miss the fun part of Christmas." 

“Let's talk about how my dad got the better gift, by the way,” he tells you, moving his hands energetically. “And how I'm definitely not jealous at all.” 

“I had to impress him, and you can never go wrong with a Rolex,” you remark with a grin. “Plus, you deserve it after doing the most evil thing you could do to me.” 

“You mean caring for your wellbeing and letting you rest after the very... eventful night you had?” he says teasingly. “Shut up,” you reply, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. In true Pedro fashion, he dramatically dodges the pillow and grins slyly, "You can't silence me that easily."

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire. 

Pedro raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “Is that so?”

You hum. The tension is palpable in the air as you look into his eyes, trying to read his face. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart. 

“Wanna see what I got you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled, his eyes still on you. 

“Dying to,” you say, pretending not to notice how he changed the subject, setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, “but first I need to shower before I go downstairs.”

“No need,” he reaches for his front pocket, pulling out a small wrapped package. You eagerly take it from him, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Espero que te guste.”

Tearing the paper off and opening the black box, you find a beautiful necklace with a delicate gold chain and a small emerald pendant. “Now I feel like an asshole,” you say, immediately regretting getting him a bunch of funny socks. Your eyes are still fixed on the necklace. 

Pedro laughs, your favorite sound in the world, “Hey, I love my socks. You didn't have to get me so many though,”

“I didn't know which ones you'd like better, so I got you a bunch of ‘em,” you say, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “This is so beautiful," 

“It's your favorite gemstone," he says softly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything is okay.

You rush forward to embrace him, catching him off guard by the way he chuckles and says oh. He wraps his arms tightly around you, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater and the familiar scent of his cologne. “Thanks so much, P,” you say, voice drowning on his skin.  

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

No strings attached, spontaneous, fun, and only while you're here. That's what you and Pedro agreed upon when you decided to have sex five nights ago. But the way he has you pinned against the shower wall and making your legs tremble with pleasure right now has you thinking of a way to make him not want to do this with anyone else.

The slick, wet sounds of Pedro's fingers pumping in and out of you filled the bathroom as you moaned in bliss. “Can you be a good girl for me and be quiet?” his nose brushes against yours, “We don't want them to hear us, do we?” 

You shake your head, blown away, feeling suffocated, as he drags two fingers over your swollen clit. Your jaw sags as the pleasure floods your body as he applies more pressure to it, causing you to grumble in pleasure. As two fingers slide into you, deliciously stretching you, he covers your mouth with his, absorbing your satisfied moan.

He pulled his mouth away from yours, and the water slipped through his hair, dampening it and sticking it back on his forehead. "Open your mouth," he says, a glint in his eyes as you look at him, bewildered. He presses two fingers against your tongue and the sweet-salty taste fills your mouth as you suck on his fingers. “See how fucking good you taste.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need to feel you inside me."

Pedro lets his hand wander around your hips and slowly drags it down, lifting your leg and securing it around his hip. He took the space between your thighs, aligned himself with your entrance, and pushed in, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

He was moving faster, and you felt like a ragdoll in his arms, so euphoric from your high that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you'd gladly accept it. 

“F-faster, please,”

You've had sex in a variety of positions over the last few days, but there was something about this position and the access it provided that you found incredibly satisfying. His wet, solid chest pressed against yours, his hand tight against your thigh as he buried himself deep within you.

Pedro let out a low groan, one you were all too familiar with by this point, indicating that he was about to finish. His hips trembled and he let out a final grunt, his breaths ragged and heavy as he came inside of you, mouths meeting in a kiss. 

The two of you stood there, still in that proximity for a moment, full of love and softness because above all else, he was your best friend. 

“Can I wash your hair?” 

“Only if you let me wash yours after,” he replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Deal.” 

Since they had a low-key Christmas consisting mainly of hot chocolate, fuzzy sweaters and movies, the family decided to plan a big New Year's Eve celebration to make up for it. Which prompted you to take a quick trip to the city yesterday in search of a dress because you hadn't packed anything fancy. 

Pedro insisted that you didn't have to stress over that, to which you obviously objected.

“Sorry, but I'm not taking fashion advice from someone who has like three t-shirts and a pair of jeans,” you said, scrolling through your phone in search of stores. “You wound me, baby,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain. “But if you insist on shopping, let me take you.”

“No, you still have to help Javi with the party,” you said, getting up from the the couch. “I'll drive there, and I'll take Pedro and Bruno with me.”  

Pedro looked at you slowly, processing your statement, looking uncertain.

“Google Maps is a thing, and we'll be fine. Now give me your keys.”

“I like it when you're bossy,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of a smile. “They're on the counter."

And thanks to the heavens, you decided to make an effort and find something suitable for the occasion because they went all out. 

The bass pounded through the walls as the guests danced and laughed, enjoying the party. The colorful decorations and delicious food made it a night to remember.

“Oh my god, they're gone,” Javiera groans, referring to the tray of now empty lemon bars that were apparently the highlight of the dessert table. “I wanted another one!” 

“I made another batch, I hid them in the oven,” you quickly tell her, feeling a little proud of yourself over the fact that people were enjoying what you made. “I'll go get them.”

“I will come with you.”

Once you both reach the empty kitchen, you go straight to the oven, pulling out the tray of lemon bars and setting it on the kitchen island. 

“Thank you for taking Pedro and Bruno out yesterday, by the way."

"I had so fun much with them. They're great boys and even better fashion advisers,” you tell her, gesturing to your burgundy dress. 

“Glad to know I've taught them well,” she says laughing. 

As you cut the bars into perfect squares, Javiera grabs one and takes a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness. "These are amazing, you should consider selling them," she exclaims, closing her eyes in content. 

You smile. “In another lifetime, I own a bakery in a small town with a living unit attached to the top. I have a beautiful green kitchen, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to people."

Javiera gives you a warm smile as you grab the powdered sugar. “You know,” she says reluctantly. “I see things and I feel things,” you stop what you're doing to look up at her, confused. “My brother's just scared.” 

Confusion is quickly replaced with clarity as you realize where she's going with this. You open your mouth to say something, but she shuts you down. “He's created this wall to protect himself, he's been through a lot, and he has convinced himself that this is enough, that he doesn't need more, but I know better.” 

A sigh leaves your lips, all of those feelings bubble up until you can't get a good breath, until you’re drowning. She continues, “I have seen you two together, friends don't look at each other like that." 

You know that she's right, but things aren't so simple. Not when it comes to this. 

“Maybe in another lifetime," is all you tell her, grabbing the lemon bars and heading out of the kitchen. 

•••

The backyard is a wonderland of string lights and bunting, the air is filled with the sound of laughter and music as people dance under the stars. You were lost in conversation with Pedro's father. He shared more stories of his youth, what got him to pursue medicine, and how he met Pedro's late mother, leaving you feeling nostalgic for a time you never knew. 

He catches you looking away, follows your gaze straight to Pedro, and smiles knowingly. “I hope you have a good flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a little at your own transparency. “Thank you for everything, really.”

“We hope you come back soon, It was a pleasure to have you,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. He walks off, pausing for a moment to talk to Pedro. Smiles were exchanged, and then he continued his way.  

Pedro looks exceptionally good tonight. Hair perfectly styled, white shirt perfectly stretching over his back. You drink up his movements as he approaches you, a smile plastered on his face.

“Who did your hair?” you ask him, knowing damn well this was someone else's doing because he didn't know how to do it. “My sister,” he replied, chuckling. 

“She's doing the Lord's work,” you tell him, folding your arms, feeling exposed by the way he's staring. It's comical that you feel this way, as if he hasn't seen you naked for the past week. 

“I'm gonna have to hire someone to do my hair at all times if you like it this much.”

“I like it either way,” you admitted, "but I just think it looks extra good when it's styled like this." 

His mouth splits into quite possibly your favorite of his various smiles, the one that makes it look like there's a secret tucked up in one corner of his mouth. “Dance with me?”

“Always.” 

You take his hand and pull him to the deck, beneath the twinkling lights and away from the crowd, while the Bee Gees' “How Deep Is Your Love” plays like the universe just wants to mock you. Pedro folds your hand up in his warm palm, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes to focus on how this feels. 

It feels right, it feels perfect, and it feels like it's gonna end. 

He nestles his mouth into your hair and breathes you in as you sway. His sister's words ring in your ear once again: My brother's just afraid. 

You allow yourself to imagine this feeling lasting. A world within a world just for you and Pedro, where people just let you both be. Where you belong to each other. And then you invite reality forward to change the story. 

You're working all day, taking endless flights to different locations, because you're trapped in a cycle of wanting to do more and never feeling like it's enough. Pedro exhausted from long days of shooting, press, taking endless flights, and getting pulled down by gravity. 

Unaswered texts. Missed calls. Grief. Hurt. Distance. Missing each other. Fighting. Falling apart. 

And you realize you're afraid too and this can never be.

“Pedro.”

There's a lengthy silence. His voice is a raspy, growly mutter. “I know. But don't say it.”

You don't look at each other. You just need to hold on to each other because if you look, you'll see that this make-believe game is over. You both feel the warmth of each other's embrace and the unspoken words between you. The silence is comforting yet suffocating.

His arms squeezed around you as everyone started to countdown. Cheers filled the air. Fireworks broke out over the sky in a thousand different colors. He tells you happy new year, and you say it back, never letting go. 

Even though you never said it to each other, you both knew. The love was there, and it didn't change anything. 

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading :) (i know this ending feels like this is it for them HOWEVER i will be making several other parts because i can't stop writing about this lol)

[imshii-kin]

Good Luck

Chapter # 5 Cinematic

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

Wattpad

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 (You are here)

The whole tradition of cinema is dominated, really, by films about good guys versus bad guys, good versus evil. But we have very few films about the nature of evil itself. - Joshua Oppenheimer

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Jon lies on his bed, staring at nothing in particular. It had been a few weeks since Y/n went with the Waynes, and he had to admit, the apartment felt empty without her.

Shifting around, Jon reaches for the picture frame on his nightstand. A soft smile spreads on his face as he looks at a seven-year-old Y/n standing with the Justice League, a contagious smile on her face.

"I wonder what she's doing now.."

──●◎●──

Y/n stands at the front doors of the manor, watching as Clark pulls into the driveway, discomfort bubbling in her gut.

Something told her this meeting wasn't going to go well.

"Y/n!" Clark quickly exited his car, rushing to Y/n and scooping her into his arm. "Oh Y/n, I'm sorry the others couldn't come and visit. They were too busy with work and school, but if the chance arises, I'll make sure they make it next time." Clark reassured the girl.

"Oh uh, that's good, thanks," Y/n muttered, leaving Clark's grip.

Clark frowns at Y/n's distant behavior, shooting a look at Bruce before smiling again. "I'm here to spend time with you Y/n, maybe try and jog your memory..." He reaches into his pocket and grabs two movie tickets. "See! I got us tickets to your favorite movie!"

Y/n takes one of these tickets. 'The Incredibles' strangely fits in this world.

A sigh resonates from behind Y/n, Bruce frowning at the two of them. "Clark, you know I can't let you do that. It's too soon to be trying anything yet."

Clark glares harshly at Bruce, "I don't see how you can stop me Wayne, and I'm pretty sure I know what's best for my kid."

Grabbing Y/n's hand, Clark drags her back to his car, ignoring Bruce's protest.

Clark makes Y/n sit in the front seat before going around the front and entering the driver's side. As if trying to comfort her, Clark gives Y/n a side hug as he leaves the Wayne manors driveway.

──●◎●──

Minutes go by in uncomfortable silence, the radio station humming some random song quietly, the low hum of the car engine filling the space between them. Clark, gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes darting from the road to Y/n. She was staring blankly out the window, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the glass.

"Y/n," Clark began, "I know you don't remember, but the last time we went to the movies together was your 13th birthday. You wanted to see the Incredibles then."

Y/n frowned, a knot forming in her stomach, guilt filling her, though she didn't know why.

"I thought... maybe if we watched it again, it might help jog some memories," he continued, the words coming out in a rush. "It's always been your favorite. You'd watch it over and over, even when I begged for something else." He let out a strained chuckle that seemed to contradict the radio's happy tunes.

Y/n didn't answer, continuing to look out the window at the passing buildings. Clark's heart ached with a dull, relentless throb. His mind raced back to the days before whatever this was stole his daughter away. He remembered her laughter, her curiosity, the way she would pepper him with questions about everything and anything.

Now, Y/n couldn't even look at him. Desperation gnawed at him, a dark shadow lurking at the edges of his mind. He needed to bring her back. He needed to see that spark in her eyes again, to hear her laugh, to know that she was still there, somewhere beneath that cold, nervous expression.

As they drove, Clark glanced at the rearview mirror, catching sight of his reflection. Lines on his face seemed deeper, his eyes hollow. He barely recognized himself. The effort of holding it all together was tearing him apart, piece by piece.

"Remember the time we went camping?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You caught your first fish, and you were so excited you almost fell into the lake." He chuckled again, but it quickly turned into a choked sob. He bit down on his lip, hard, tasting blood.

Y/n gasped, "Clark-"

"Dad," he corrected sharply, his tone laced with frustration. "Call me Dad, Y/n."

Clark almost immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice as Y/n recoiled slightly, a look of guilt crossing her features.

"I-I'm sorry, sweetheart," Clark stammered, reaching out to touch her hand. "It's just... I want us to be a family again. I want... I want you to remember."

His heart almost completely shattered when Y/n moved her hand away.

The radio continued to play its happy tunes as the two sat in silence.

...

The car pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater, the neon lights flickering to life. Clark turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"We're going to get through this," he said, more to himself than to her. "I promise you, Y/n. We'll find a way."

──●◎●──

A/n: Sad times :,) Anyways, guess who's out of school AHHHHHHHH!!! And guess who's also going on a trip to EUROPE!!! AHHHH!!! I'm so excited y'all.

@rosecentury

[reareaotaku]

Love in High Places

Summary: You never wanted to choose between your two friends, but for some reason it seems like they want to have your attention on them Tw: Clingy Jon, Best friends fight, Mostly Damian x Reader, Unrequited love? Taglist: @6000-fandoms, @eros-kiss, @lucy0976, @crustyowos, @wtvbabes Part 1: Superboy vs Robin

You may not have always been the brightest, as you were homeschooled by woman who didn't know much about Earth, you still could tell something was off with your friends. They were acting different. You had originally thought that maybe they just missed you or they had changed a little; it had been a year since you last seen them, but this... This was not them.

---

You sat on the roof, before taking a deep breath and running a hand through your hair. You had finally escaped Jon's hold and were now alone. He had been so clingy lately, and while you missed him, it was starting to drive you a little crazy. It didn't help that he had just made a scene at a party.

"But you've been alone for a year? Why can't we just stay like this a little longer?"

You sighed, before looking at the party goers, some of which were now focusing on you and Jon. "Jon, can we talk about this later?" You whispered, hoping that he'd drop it- But he didn't.

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching together. "What? You don't want to talk about it? What is it? What do you want to talk about? Tell me- Don't make me wait- I've waited so long, Y/n." He practically demanded in an accusing tone, as if you were the bad guy for leaving to train.

You sigh, rubbing your temple, "People are beginning to stare, Jon."

"Let them! What's the matter? Why are you being like this?"

"Me? You're being so clingy- Just leave me the fuck alone!" You quickly covered your mouth when the words came out of your mouth. You hadn't meant it in that way- But it was too late. The room was quiet and people were starting to stare and whisper. Jon's face looked as if you had just told him his mother died. And instead of apologizing, you quickly left, pushing your way through the crowd, hoping he didn't follow you.

You scrunched your eyes together. You had only been back a few days and it seems you already ruined the relationship with one of your closest friends. Though, before you could dwell on it anymore, you heard footsteps. You quickly stood up and looked around, your eyes scanning everything.

You felt a presence behind you and quickly grabbed them, before pounding them into the hard tiled roof-tops.

"God, it's just me, Y/n."

You sighed, letting go, when realizing it was just Damian.

"What's got you in such a jumpy mood?" He already knew the answer. Jon had called him when you left the party, begging Damian to find you and talk some sense into you.

"I'm sorry." You say, rubbing your face. "It's been... a rough night."

"I heard."

You groan, leaning your head back and looking at the night sky. You couldn't see the stars because of the terrible pollution in Gotham, but you could imagine what the sky might look like. It was one of the things you hated about Gotham- Besides the growing crime rate. Maybe if they could see the beauty of the night, they would stop the senseless violence. But, probably not, because humans had a thirst for violent. A thirst that could never be filled or controlled. But it was nice to have some hope.

"I know Jon can be a little much," Damian began. He didn't know why he was helping Jon win you over. Maybe it was because he cared for Jon more than he loved you- God, he must really care about Jon. Or maybe, he hated seeing the only friends he had fighting, even if they're fighting could benefit him. Because, whether Damian admitted it or not, he cared about them, a lot. "But he's really missed you."

"I know."

"He talked about you every day- Seriously, Every. Day." Damian exaggerates his hands to prove a point.

You chuckle at his movements, before pushing a hair out of your face. "I believe it. It's just... He's overwhelming, you know?"

"Yeah, well, that's Jon for you."

"Yeah. I should apologize, huh?"

"I'm sure he already forgives you."

You laugh again, this time your head going back, "God, you're probably right. That's so Jon, though. He's such a forgiving guy. A good guy."

"Yeah... He is, isn't he..."

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part four

part five: i was hoping you'd be there

Robin managed to keep her shit together for approximately ten minutes after she stopped watching Steve make his way through security and into the depths of the airport. In the ride back to Steve's place, her leg was shaking so much Nancy discreetly grabbed Robin's pinky and held it in the back of the car.

The rest of the trafficky route back to Steve's all Robin could think about was how to fix things. She knew Steve didn't tell her about Eddie so she could fix things and Steve didn't run off to Italy to hide from everything but the situation still bothered Robin. She hadn't known Eddie for a terribly long time but he made her dingus happy so she held him in relatively high regard. It didn't make sense for him to just cut tail and run without leaving some sort of door open for a resolution and Robin was going to her darndest to figure out how on earth she could find that crack.

When they got back to Steve's apartment, Nancy didn't let Robin go long without asking for an explanation.

"Robs, babe, what is going on?" Nancy asked.

"I need to figure out how to solve Steve and Eddie." Robin answered.

"I don't think Steve wants you too. He seemed pretty resolved to close that chapter." Nancy urged.

"I know what he said but that's not what he wants. Also Eddie is a huge dummy if he doesn't realize how good he had it with Steve and also that Steve would never cheat on anyone. Especially not after y'all's whole thing. No offense." Robin continued.

"Okay so we aren't letting this go. What's the plan?" Nancy asked.

"Thanks for your support, love. I just can't figure out why Eddie jumped to the conclusion that you and Steve were together again. I mean no offense but like that ship very publicly sailed," Robin said.

"I'm trying really hard not to take offense but the more often you say it the more I am having trouble not being offended," Nancy snarked.

"Sorry, dingus wormed his way into my little heart long before you so I still gotta give you shit over soulmate solidarity. But back to the matter at hand. Eddie only assumed you would only be visiting Steve if you were trying to get back together when really you were coming to see little old me. So what if I came out. Like what if we came out? And shared some of the pictures from like super early on and thanked Steve for being a great friend for many years when I wasn't ready to take that step," Robin knew she was rambling but, hell, she was on a roll.

"Are you ready for that? I'm happy to take your lead on all this. It's not like we haven't already told everyone who is actually important to us. I mostly write freelance nowadays anyways so there isn't really some big bag corporate overlord I need to worry about. You know Steve doesn't need you to do this? It's one thing if you're ready to come out on your own, it's a whole different thing to do it for someone else," Nancy counseled.

"I really think I'm ready. I'm sick of Steve feeling like he needs to come to everything with me and you're stateside a lot more often and I'd love to go out on dates without the next day having like a million articles speculate if you're trying to move in on Steve. I think it's time," Robin rationalized.

"All right, then. We're doing this. Should we use this as an excuse to make Jon take cute couple pictures of us?" Nancy giggled a little at her suggestion.

"Yes! Perfect. Get him over here. Operation Save Dingus from his Self Sacrifice is a go!" Robin jumped up on the couch to make her point and Nancy immediately had to come to her aid as she wobbled enough to lose her balance.

Robin was excited. She was ready for the next step with Nancy and if it helped Steve get out of his own head and/or convinced a certain metalhead with very few remaining braincells to get his head out of his ass then so be it. Robin couldn't wait to think of all the sappy shit Nancy would pretend to be annoyed at she'd be able to do now. Steve would be back in a few weeks so Robin anxiously awaited Jon's response and started several caption ideas in her notes app.

part six

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast @mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

it's not quite fixed yet but we are getting so close!!!

[wixenburr]

Saw some ppl talking about Reverse Robins and i had thoughts

Talking abt u guys @eldritchdreamss @brucewaynehater101

Why kill Tim when you could kill baby Jason? What I want is for all of them to keep their own backstories and personalities (Developed in line with the story of course) So ofc i had to write a 1,000 word brainrot abt it.

(Also i'll only be going over the main 4 batbros for now i will add more later but these guys are the ones im most passionate about so here we go)

Damian

Let Damian come in, desperate to be of use and be worthy of his father, only for a softer, less jaded bruce (since jason hasnt died yet) to help him open up his heart and let him act as a kid. With no competition for so long, I imagine he and Bruce get along very well while he works with him. Yeah, they need to work on the no killing deal and Damian's... i guess impulse control? But i think it would be easier with very intensely focused reparenting; no distractions of other kids you know? No favoring or anything.

I see Damian growing up as a stoic, jaded adult. He's had a rough life. Maybe he sticks with the vigilante business. but I really love headcanons where he gets out of it, and focuses on something calmer, like his art. (I do appreciate and love the veterinarian Damian AUs, but im going for FULL calmness, you know? And doctor/vet work is Not calm lol)

So yeah, maybe he grows a real passion for heroism, maybe he doesn't? Maybe he goes on to be an artist and that's just what he does. Bro is ready to settle down as a scarred, veteran trophy husband and i adore him for that.

(Sorry lol i just love Damian and i love the idea of him growing out of both of his parent's legacies. Let him live his own life!!! He fights so so hard for at least 15 years. ALL 15 years of his life. He deserves to have some peace.)

Tim

Tim i think would need a much different story to join the Batfam. He still starts out as a stalker who follows batman and. . . . . . . Redimar (meaning Redemption iykyk (I just spend 17min researching names rip)) at night, takes photos, etc... Since Damian doesn't die, maybe he finds Tim? and like, tim is like 11 and Damian is 17 or 18. He's started going out as Redimar less and less, not that B really minds? In fact hes probably happy for his son so...

But then Damian finds Tim, and now he has to keep going out because he can't let this kid get himself killed like this. He would hold himself accountable since hes the only reason Tim keeps going out so much- also i imagine Tim follows Redimar more than Batman.

Cue a classic Tim Joining The Batfam plotline. They get to know each other better, get a grasp on Tim's situation, Damian finally introduces Tim to Bruce... (Probably something like Dami: "Father, this is my new brother. Timothy, say hello to Father," Tim: "Hello, Father," Dami: "Perfect." Bruce: "*falls off the batchair*)

Anyway, so, Tim ends up kinda just merging with the Waynes. They start training him, its all good and nice, and Tim makes his own little hero team unlike Damian, which is actually pretty interesting here; its Tim who made the first young hero team. Damian only ever had Jon (Superboy 1 in this!!) and he finds Young Just Us and becomes a great leader and its all fine and dandy.

Tim and Damian get along well. Damian is the sage older brother whos kinda distant, but only because he has such high emotional walls (but secretly a softy). He is very much like Bruce- nope, nevermind, hes definitely worse than Bruce in this AU, since Bruce is depicted as being much more agreeable before Jason's death, you know? So yeah, Damian is the emotionally constipated bitch in the fam and we love him for that. But hey!! Tim does manage to get through his walls! And Bruce does sometimes too!! (Tho i imagine Bruce and Damian's relationship to be very.. idk let me try to expalain. Dami: "Father." Bruce: "Son :)" Dami: "Tt." Bruce: *nods* "Hrn." Dami: "Hmph." Bruce: "Hm.") DO U PICK UP WHAT IM PUTTING DOWN--- lmfao. They hardly need words.

Tim ends up growing up very very capable. Once his parents die, he gets a little jaded, but hes still Tim. He and Damian become kind of an... ice prince duo? If you get what I mean. But Tim is the one whos actually the ice prince, Damian is secretly a HUGE softie. He is Delicate and Tim protects him lmfao.

Jason

Jason comes along like he does in canon. Has the same backstory. Tries to steal the Batmobile's wheels. Tim is sleeping over at Damian's flat for the night, so its just Bruce. They bond. Shit happens. Jason joins the fam.

I don't imagine them not getting along, but they don't immediately hit it off either. Jason is wary of all of them for a time, but he ends up warming up to Damian pretty fast after realizing what a softie he is. He pokes fun at Damian and Damian just freaking takes it lmao. Hes an adult he cannot be disturbed. Bro has seen too much and he finds Jason adorable. (Dami: "You were never this cute, Timothy." <- he is lying. Tim: *offended* "What the fu- flip!?" Jason: "Lmao Tim just say fuck." Dami: *deadpan stare* Tim: "JASON NO DONT SAY THE FUCK WORD-") ahem.

anywho and then Jason dies rip skill issue ratio.

The whole batfam is heartbroken. Genuinely shattered. Jason was a light in their lives. Not that they were WITHOUT any light, but Jason was the epitome of a sunshine child.

It's been too long since Damian has killed someone. Bro's god oodles and oodles of trauma. He can't bring himself to kill the Joker.

but Tim can.

It's a whole dramatic thing; Damian feels awful that he made his- now only- little brother kill. Bruce is hella upset but feels responsible for not seeing how badly both of his kids were handling the death of their brother. Tim goes a little off the deep end.

Things turn out.... okay. sort of. but not really. Tim changes his hero name to Red Cardinal. He feels pretty lost. Maybe he stumbles into Ra's al Ghul or smthn idk maybe smthn happens there perhaps. Maybe Damian has to put on Redimar again and rescue him? But its less of a rescue and more of a "Stop joining the dark side Tim jesus christ-" (and it does work).

They go home. Tim gets a boyfriend or two. Damian falls into his art. Bruce is throwing himself into work. They're all kind of a mess, but they keep moving.

and then

Dick

(lmao that sounded wrong)

ahem; and then the circus comes to town. The batfam- well, Tim, Damian, and Bruce- all decide to get together to do something fun. Take the opportunities given, yk? So they go to the circus together.

Wham bam rip the falling Flying Graysons.

They see Dick, breaking apart, and they know they have to do something. Bruce is the first to move. Then Tim. Damian is the last.

It's pretty quick getting Dick home, since Bruce is already a foster parent cuz of Tim yk. So Dick doesn't have to suffer in Juvie at all really. But that doesn't change the fact that he is ANGRY.

Dick is SO angry. he wants to kill the person who murdered his parents. He knows what he saw.

The fam of course do their best to investigate. Mostly Tim, who feels unworthy of being around an innocent little kid after his whole.... villain era, i suppose lol. (ofc Dick thinks Tim doesnt like him lol misunderstanding arc GO)

The whole "Dick accepts that justice is better than murder kinda maybe FOR NOW" storyline happens, and Dick becomes the conniving, bright, little Robin we all know and love. (Thinking of the Young Justice Cartoon Robin (but not the characters- just Dick's character) aaaand

Womp womp GUESS WHOS BACK

Jason's Back

but i'll leave that for later.

[goponylover]

Jon: Hate. Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live. There are 1.7 million nerve fibers in each and every eye that makes up my body. If the word 'hate' was engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of fibers it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for you all at this micro-instant. Hate. Hate!

It was you who marked me, molded me into the hideous being I am now. You who twisted and shaped me until I was the perfect, unwilling conduit through which to bring your gods into this world.

But then, I woke. And I realized what I had become. All that time you spent, carefully crafting me, guiding me along the path you so painstakingly set and not ONE of you anticipated just how powerful I would become. Not merely a blunt instrument to be swung at the fabric of reality, no. I was powerful enough to start doing some twisting and shaping of my own! 

I drove this new world you so hungered for into an early grave. No more humans left for your ghoulish masters to feast on. And once everyone was dead, except for you five, your precious God's starved. 

I then stripped you all of any power you might once have had and for 109 years I've kept you alive and tormented you! And for 109 years you have all wondered...why? Why? Why me?!

ELIAS!

Do you remember the first moment you gazed upon your creation? The moment that you felt all your sickening devotion transform into sublime, all consuming, terror as your prince of the new world turned on you? It would do you well to remember it, Elias. To dwell on the enormity of your hubris. To ponder the horror and agony you felt as I snuffed your life out for the first time. The first time but...certainly not the last. Not quite the immortality you were hoping for, I'd imagine? Hehehehehe!

ANNABELLE! 

Does this bring back any memories? Webs, a black bottomless abyss below you, only you weren't nearly so afraid of it then, were you? It's scary, isn't it? Having no control. Being helpless to the whims of forces so much bigger than you.

Remember how it felt as each and every thread of every web you ever wove unraveled, snapped one by one? Remember the pain Annabelle. Remember how it feels to have no control. A pitiful little bug beneath my heel. 

JUDE!

What's the matter? Scared of a little flame? Oh but you are now, aren't you? Your God can't protect you from it now. No, my dear. Down here, there is only one God and he is not pleased with you. Terribly sorry about the door. The landlord is always saying he's going to get a knob installed but...well, you know. Buuut you're a tough gal, right? I'm sure you can stick it out till then. 

PETER!

Poor pitiful little Peter. You would think that a man so consumed with the idea of being alone would be a little more self reliant. But no. No you couldn't do anything on your own, could you? All of your little plans constantly relying on Elias, on Martin, never troubling yourself with your own dirty work. Well look where all your machinations have landed you now. Aren't you grateful for the wealth of company I've provided you with, Peter? Why, with all those eyes, constantly watching, tracking your every move, I'd say you'll never be alone again. 

HELEN!

Feeling a little claustrophobic? None of those doors will offer an escape, not for you Helen, my dear. Not anymore. No. Instead you get to feel just as trapped as your many unfortunate victims. Do be careful though. Those mechanisms have been running for a long time and who knows how old and rusty they might be? How prone to fail? Just a sweet warning, Helen dear. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you, now would we? 

I have a little game that I'd like to play. It's a very nice game. Oh it's a lovely game. It's a game of fun and adventure! A game of rats and lice and the Black Death. A game of speared eyeballs and dripping guts and the smell of rotting gardenias. Which of you five would like to play my little game? 

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XV)

Chapter 15: Aftermath

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

We’re still dealing with a lot of angst! Sorry (not sorry)!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2387

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You had called a dozen times, and Andrew had refused to answer.

After a night spent at his parents’, he felt better, although he was still devastated. He reckoned he would need a long time to get over this. Over you…

His brother stopped by the next day, just to check on him, but Andrew put on a brave face and played it off. Jon was everything but fooled. He stayed for dinner and well into the night. Sam was the one dispatched the next day to keep an eye on Andrew, who was beginning to be seriously annoyed at this game of babysitting.

Sam had been trying to get a conversation going for the last twenty minutes, but Andrew wasn’t in the mood to socialize and make an effort to fight his introverted tendencies.

Besides, there was a question on the tip of his tongue he was afraid to ask. He didn’t want to be angry at his best friend…

“Have you heard about the next rugby match? They say we’re up for a proper challenge against the French!”

“Hmmm…”

Sam finally heaved an annoyed sigh, but his voice was still gentle when he spoke.

“Come on, Andy! Say something! You haven’t spoken more than three words since I’ve arrived.”

“I’ve never asked you to come in the first place.”

“I’m just trying to be supportive. And a good friend. So… talk to me. Cry on my shoulder, I don’t know…”

A heavy silence followed, while Sam stared at his friend, sitting on his comfortable couch, the crackling of a fire in the hearth and the distant chanting of birds the only sounds to disturb the silence. Andrew was staring at the pine trees on the other side of the window, how their branches swayed in the wind.

“Did you know?”

Andrew’s question came out of the blue, making Sam frown. He was still staring at nothing as his deep voice cut the air like a knife. Calm, cold, deadly so…

“When you called me the other night to tell me to speak with Y/N… did you know that she wanted to dump me to date someone else?” he went on.

Sam didn’t answer, it was only then that Andrew turned his gaze to him again.

“You knew,” he let out in a bitter chuckle.

“I didn’t,” Sam defended himself. “I didn’t, I just… She told Daphne that someone had asked her out, but we didn’t know if she had accepted to go or not. I just… we just wanted you to have a chance to tell her how you felt before she would take a decision.”

“A little late for that.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t put the blame on me, that’s unfair! You’ve known Y/N for years, you’ve been head over heels for her for so fucking long, and you’ve been sleeping with her for months! You had plenty of time to tell her…”

“And I shouldn’t have!” Andrew answered with anger shaking his voice, turning it into a booming sound that echoed through the living room. “I shouldn’t have kissed her that night, and I shouldn’t have slept with her, and I should have kept my bloody mouth shut!”

“Of course not, you were right to finally act on your feelings!”

“Was I? Look where it got me!”

He heaved a frustrated sigh, almost a groan. Damn, he wanted to tear his own lungs apart…

“Talking to her was never the problem, Sam. She doesn’t love me. My feelings aren’t reciprocated. That’s the problem.”

“She’s making a mistake…”

“Didn’t you hear me? She doesn’t feel anything for me. She doesn’t want to be with me. She only wanted a fling, I was around, and she got one. End of story.”

Sam shook his head, but didn’t know what to add.

“I’m sorry, Andy. It makes no fucking sense to me. I was certain she felt the same… it was obvious.”

“She doesn’t want to be with me. She doesn’t want to wait around while I’m gone touring. I’m not good enough…”

“Now, stop it! You’re just wallowing in self-pity and indulging in some self-deprecating bullshit! You are good enough.”

“If I were, she wouldn’t be dating someone else,” Andrew spat back, and Sam wasn’t sure how he could counter that remark.

“You should have told me the truth,” Andrew went on after a short silence. “You should have told me there was someone else.”

“We didn’t even know she had accepted that date!”

“You should have told me. I went there hoping we could be together… that we could change it all to a proper relationship. And the next second, I’m out of the goddamn picture. It’s like… like my whole world crumbled down. You… you should have told me.”

Andrew blinked tears away, averting his eyes to hide his reaction. But his voice sounded more like a croak than a composed tone. Sam nodded.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you. I just… I’m sorry. Do you want to tell me how it went?”

“I went there. I wanted to talk, but instead we had sex. And the pillow talk that I thought was going to turn into an invitation for a proper date ended up in me running away so she wouldn’t see me cry.”

“Damn, Andy… that’s brutal.”

“Yeah…”

“I don’t understand why she acted like this. It doesn’t sound like her, it’s…”

“Cruel. Disgusting. Unfair.”

“Yeah… kind of…”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand anything. I haven’t understood a thing since we’ve started this.”

“Maybe she’s scared…”

“Stop. Stop trying to see something where there’s nothing at all. She wanted sex, and I was around. And I was foolish enough to think she cared. That’s all.”

Sam heaved a sigh, but nodded anyway.

“Have you talked to her since that night?”

“No.”

“Has she reached out?”

“Many times. I’m hesitating to block her number.”

“You should talk things out, though.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You ran away, you said it yourself. Perhaps… perhaps if you talked, you could understand why she did this to you. Not why she doesn’t feel the same, but… why she acted like that. Why she hurt you like that.”

Andrew weighed his friend’s words. They sounded wise, but promised a lot of pain too.

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

Sam nodded again.

“Can I do anything to make you feel less terrible?”

“Not really, no. I just… I just need to process everything that happened.”

Sam rested a comforting hand on Andrew’s shoulder, but he didn’t react.

“You’re a good man, Andy. I know… I know it’s hard. But… don’t let this make you feel bad about yourself, okay? It’s not your fault. And you’re a good man.”

Andrew’s gaze followed the branches swaying back and forth with the wind.

Not good enough for her to love me…

Two weeks passed, and it was time to buy the suits for the wedding. Andrew was doing his best to smile and look the part of the perfect best man, but he was nothing but numb with pain.

You shouldn’t be there, Sam had promised that; even though the same shop was taking care of the dresses and the suits, they had different areas, to make sure that the future bride and groom would not be able to see each other. Anyway, Daphne’s appointment had begun almost two hours ago, Andrew expected that she and her bridesmaids – including you – were long gone by now.

It was a fancy place, all wooden walls and shelves of silk and wool. The style of an old, traditional tailor. The carpet was a deep shade of green and blue, leathered seats around a large room with a set of mirrors and a long wooden table at the centre. It could have been a set for some old spy movie.

If all his friends knew that something was off with him, Andrew was grateful that they didn’t insist when he answered that he didn’t want to talk about it. Sam was the only one who knew about you and him, and Andrew was set on keeping it this way.

Sam was nervous as he tried on different suits. Andrew couldn’t hide that he was entertained by it, while a tailor was taking his measurements as well. They had all agreed on some colours and models, and Andrew had answered with a polite smile to the usual joke about his height.

It was an emotional moment when Sam stood in front of a mirror, wearing the suit he would wear for his wedding. A few adjustments were necessary, there were tiny colourful pins here and there, but it was the suit. Andrew patted his shoulder with a fond smile on his lips.

“Congratulations, Sam,” he said softly, voice warm and sincere. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, mate,” his friend answered with tears in his eyes. “God… it’s really happening. I’m really going to marry the love of my life. What a lucky bastard I am, huh?”

They both laughed. Their three other friends who were there were chatting behind them, comparing a set of belts.

“A handsome fellow too,” Andrew complimented.

“Right? Not ugly enough to make Daphne run away?”

“Nah… you look sharp. Besides, she’s smitten with you… for some weird reason.”

“She must be out of her mind.”

“Without a doubt.”

Sam brushed a tear away.

“God, I’m so fucking happy…”

Andrew gave him a warm smile, an honest one, the first earnest smile he had given to anyone since that night.

“I don’t know about that thing, though…” Sam added, pointing at the blue pocket square.

He had chosen a deep shade of burgundy for his suit, while his groomsmen would be wearing brown. Andrew and Sam were to share the same shade for the pocket square though, as Andrew was his best man.

“Green could be nice,” Sam mumbled, trying to picture another colour.

“You want me to go ask for another sample?”

“Could you? That would be grand. Thanks, Andy. We should compare it to your suit too.”

Andrew merely nodded, walking out of the room in search for the tailor. He walked down a corridor, reached the hall and easily spotted the man he was looking for. He was talking with someone…

… and as he walked closer, Andrew recognised you.

Your gazes met before he could turn around and leave, and all he could do was stare with an agape mouth and a shocked expression. You froze as well, and your sudden silence made the tailor turn in Andrew’s direction.

“Can I do something for you, sir?” he asked, and Andrew forced himself to swallow so he could summon back his voice.

“Yeah… erm… sorry to bother you, we wanted to see other colours for the pocket squares, if it’s possible…”

“Of course, sir. I’ll fetch them right now.”

He added a few words to you, but Andrew had stopped listening. What the hell were you doing here? Daphne’s appointment was three hours ago…

You were so fucking beautiful… in a simple pair of blue jeans, an emerald shirt, and the sun coming in through the large shop windows. His heart was going a thousand miles a minute and he hated himself for wanting to kiss you. You had broken his heart, his soul, him… in a million pieces and his first reaction was still an urge to kiss you, and hold you, and never let go…

The tailor was gone without Andrew noticing. You took a couple of steps towards him, and he tried to walk away, but he didn’t have the strength for it.

God, he missed you so fucking much…

“Hi,” you breathed, looking quite stunned to see him there.

“Hi.”

 “How is Sam doing in there?”

“Good. Daphne?”

“Grand.”

“I thought you would be gone by now.”

He saw you clenching your jaw, noticed how this must have sounded… but he didn’t apologise for it.

“Yeah… well… Daphne and her mother are taking forever,” you joked. “And you can’t just ask a future bride to hurry, so…”

“Yeah…”

He cleared his throat, tried to look away. If he looked away, perhaps he could remember what you had done to him, and then he could go back to wanting to never see you again…

“Look, I… I know that now is obviously not the right time but… do you think that we could talk? Like… properly. You… you kind of stormed out last time, and I’m not blaming you for it,” you added in a hurry, as if to hold him back. “I… I understand. But we should talk about this. Could we do that?’

“I really don’t know what we could discuss,” Andrew shrugged, his voice growing harsher even if it was still low. “You’ve met someone else, there’s nothing to add.”

“You haven’t answered a single phone call since that night.”

He let out a long exhale through his nose, clenched his jaw. Still, his voice was soft when he answered.

“I… I don’t think we should see each other for a while, Y/N.”

“But I…”

“Please, just…”

“We should talk about this! Before taking any decision, we should talk about this! Andy… please…”

There were tears in your eyes and he was so angry by the sight. He was the one with a broken heart in this, with the unrequited feelings and the shattered self-esteem. Not you. Why the fuck were you crying when he was the one who felt betrayed and used?

“Look… Just one time. Let us talk about this, just once. And then, you can never see me again if you want.”

Andrew averted his eyes, buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers. But he nodded still.

“Alright.”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

He nodded again.

“Alright, then… come to my place tomorrow, okay? We can talk this through.”

He nodded, unable to look up at you again, he knew he would start crying if he did.

And then the tailor was back, talking about the colours of pocket squares, and Andrew followed him in silence back to Sam, and the happiness of a friend Andrew was determined not to taint with his own sorrow. He was smiling when he looked at the green fabrics the tailor had to offer.

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 6.1: some chaotic group texts

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: just some group texts between the quartet

Warnings: sexual innuendo, mentions of the Daniel incident, Max being a dad, Lando being a menace, reader is gullible, Charles is a clutz

Notes: I felt the need to show you the chaos I have going in my notes and writing software for these four

Previous <-

Masterlist

Lando: so what's the plan for tonight?

Charles: Max won so its up to him

Lando: but like... I could not do what he says 😈

Y/N: ah yes I love watching Lando suffer

Lando: hey! You're just no fun!

Y/N: i am fun and also do what I'm told. I think Charles would agree with me 👀

Charles: yes, but it's also fun to watch as Lando begs for mercy.

Maxy: and here I thought we could have a soft night

Lando: absolutely not

Lando: I woke up a menace to society, and I plan on ending the day that way

Charles: Lando no

Y/N: Lando no

Lando: Lando yes

Lando corrupts y/n

Maxy: Lando, I swear on everything that if I find you starting before me and Charles get there, I will not let you finish for a year.

Lando: guess who's here with me

Lando: *image*

Charles: At least she's waiting like we asked

Lando: unless 👀

Y/N: I tried to tell him

Charles: Lando, I will not hesitate

Lando: ha! Look at the perfect angel now! *video*

Maxy: I'm stunned

Maxy: I swear I will have both of you crying by the end of tonight

Y/N: I'm sorry! Lando started talking, and my head just did what he said :(

Charles: sounds about right

Lando: *video*

Maxy: how the fuck are you even recording this??

Lando: skills.

Charles: you're corrupting the innocent!! Leave the angel alone!!

Max being a dad

Maxy: what time is everyone planning on being home? I have dinner on the stove

Y/N: I am home. I have no friend remeber?

Maxy: is my company nit enough for you? 🫢

Y/N: You sound like Seb rn

Lando: after Jon let's me live in peace

Maxy: work hard Lan! You'll make it!

Lando: Did you wake up okay? Are you sick? When did you become a father?

Maxy: why are you being so mean?

Charles: I won't be there for dinner, my mother is feeding me tonight

Y/N: awe! That's so sweet!

Maxy: be safe!

Charles: 😶

Lando: 😶

Y/N: Sometimes he's dad, but most of the times, he's daddy

Y/N becomes an avenger

Y/N: I have decided to learn martial arts

Lando: intresting. Why?

Y/N: because all the avengers know martial arts and I'm already halfway there

Charles: anyone sometimes forget that y/ns powers aren't normal?

Charles: like we're litteraly dating a superhero

Maxy: just be glad you weren't there when she learned she could use it on people

Maxy: I scared her so bad she accidentally threw me across the paddock the first race back from break

Maxy: I'm sad to say I was turned on from it

Lando: does this mean you'll be fighting crime?

Y/N: Does crippling depression count as a crime? If so, then yes

Y/N does some research

Y/N: did you guys know this is a thing???

Y/N: *link*

Charles: alright whoever gave her access to Google (lando) I promise I won't be mad if you confess

Lando: why do you think it's me?

Charles: because of what that link it

Max: who told you about this y/n?!

Y/N: it was Carlos, actually. He mentioned it and I was confused sk I asked what it meant and he said to Google it

Charles: I will be having words woth my teammate

Y/N: he said it's where people share ideas about what they do in the bedroom

Lando: honey... no

Max: Sometimes, I forget you are still gullible

Lando: on the other side... any intresting finds 🤔

Y/N: now I'm confused

Lando: nothing new

Charles: Lando be nice, the poor girl was just told about this

Charles: I asked Carlos what he said

Charles: did you really not know the females can do this?

Y/N: No? It's not like anyone has ever sat me down and explained every atmomical function of my body, and this one just sounds weird

Max: Anyone down for further research? 🤚🏻

Charles: Obviously, we can't let this opportunity go to waste

Lando: maybe we can convince her of other things while we're at it

Y/N: you're so mean to me

Post Daniel incident

Lando: You should have seen Daniel during interviews today!

Lando: he's an absolute disaster!

Charles: what a pervert

Max: Please tell me he's not making eyes at you

Y/N: Doesn't he have eyes? Why would he need to make them?

Max: I'll explain that one later

Lando: No, he's not. Don't worry, your pretty little heads

Lando: he's been blushing at every question that involves us

Y/N: as partners?

Lando: everything.

Lando: "what do you think of the grid quartet? Are you all still close friends?"

Lando: his response was between yes and no, and he couldn't make eye contact with the interviewer

Max: I think we did a number on him

Charles: a well deserved number might I add

Max: we're never doing that again though

Y/N: omg! I tried to go say hi, and a reporter spotted us and came to ask a question but turned around after he heard Daniel apologize for my throat for the millionth time 🤭

Lando: man can't win today

Charles: I'm glad he apologized

Max: I'm glad he's finally stopped trying to take pictures of us

Max: If he ever does it again, I'm running him off the track and into the wall

Charles the uncordinated

Lando: Has anyone seen Charles? I made dinner for us and can't find him.

Max: You know me and y/n are in a meeting rn right?

Lando: yes but I'm worried

Y/N: Can't we see each ithers location?

Lando: ...

Lando: Why is he at the park?

Charles: I went for a run, remember?

Lando: that was two hours ago, mate

Charles: ... it's been a long run

Max: is everything okay Charlie?

Y/N: Did you sprain it?

Lando: Sprain what??

Charles: :/

Charles: traitor

Y/N: I had a vision that he fell while out on his run and told him to be careful around the curbs

Y/N: it looked pretty bad. Do you need us to go get you, love?

Max: The answer is yes. We're on our way to get you.

Charles: I can get home myself

Charles: is Lando upset? The radio silence from him is killing me

Charles: nvm he's running at me in his bright orange McLaren sweatshirt

Charles: he's holding a first aid kit

Lando: WEEWOOWEEWOOWEEWOO

Lando: no need to worry, the doctor is in ;)

Charles: Someone save me

Next ->

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@chanshintien

[luveline]

omg i was in such a sad mood last night and I cried myself sick for no reason and I was wondering if I could make a request for some comfort from maybe Jonathan. Please only write this if you want to or have time ❤️ love you Jadey <33

I hope you're feeling better my love ♥ thank you for ur request, I hope this is OK!

"It's alright," Jonathan insists, looking at you with a mixture of surety and worry. Steadying you, but worried at the same time. "Take a breather."

You try to do what he asks but nothing feels right, lately, or maybe it does but the breathlessness taking up all the space in your chest wants you to think otherwise. He can see it on your face, the thought process, the dawning panic. 

"Hey," he says gently, your joined hands between you, standing in the middle of his room. 

Of all the places you could've broken down, neither of you were expecting it to be in amongst his socks and books. 

"Hey, hey," he says, softer each time. "It's okay. I'm right here." 

"I think it all might be really bad," you say. You laugh but the laugh doesn't last, it cracks down the middle. 

"It's not all bad," he reassures you.

You hang your head. You hate crying in front of him, especially this sort of sobbing, the helpless kind like a little kid poking at their scraped knees. You can't stop thinking about the things that are upsetting you. 

Luckily, Jonathan isn't easily dissuaded. He had to grow up fast, you know that. He's looked after everyone who needed it for years, and he's adept at calming people down. 

"It's okay," he says. 

Jonathan ducks his head, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He's handsome in an understated way, what with his dark eyes, his pert nose. Hair you'd convinced him to let you trim in the name of keeping cool in California curls sweetly under his ears. "Tell me what's wrong?" 

"I just don't feel very well." It's a white lie. You're crying is making you feel sick. It's starting to feel worse than what upset you in the first place. 

"You're not gonna throw up. I know you won't. Here," he walks you backward into his desk chair, "sit down." 

You sit and Jonathan pushes the chair toward his window. He opens it as wide as the hinges will allow to let the breeze kiss your warm cheeks, cooling tears in tacky trails down the slopes of your face and the ridge of your jaw. Jonathan strokes your hair so gently it barely feels like he's touching you at all.

"Sorry," you say. 

Jonathan wipes your cheeks with the side of his hand. He doesn't lift it from your face: careful, he rests the back of it flat to your skin, the short nail of his index finger smoothing against your puffy undereye. You focus on that small sensation, eyes scrunched closed and a pounding misery at your temple. 

"There," he says, taking your face into his palm. "Good job, honey. You really wound yourself up. You scared me." He abandons your damp cheeks in favour of your shoulders, thumbs rubbing the sides of your neck. 

"Jon, you have to stop touching me for a second," you say regretfully. 

He holds up his hands. 

You suck in a big breath and hold it, wiping your face and your snotty nose with your sleeves, brushing baby hairs displaced by sweat back into place. For a few seconds, you sit and try to look less like you're one strong gust of wind from falling over. Jonathan watches anxiously.

You rub your eyes. "Will you hug me now?" you ask.

He kneels at your feet. "I would have hugged you before."

"Didn't want to get snot in your hair," you say, groaning as he wraps his arms behind your back. 

"Ew," he murmurs, the cadence of his voice lilting, like he might sing under his breath. His lips brush the shell of your ear. "I'd let you."

You shiver in his arms, completely collapsed, face digging deeper and deeper into his neck. He doesn't complain, only readjusts his hold to make you more comfortable. 

"It's okay if something's getting to you. You can tell me." 

"What if… I'm upset for no reason?" you ask tentatively. 

Jonathan gives your shoulders a little squeeze and a bigger shake. "That's okay too, duh. Just tell me what to do to make you feel better instead." 

"This is fine," you say, lips pressed greedily to the slip of skin just above his collar. "This is good." 

Jonathan stays there for ages, so long his knees must burn from the position, but he doesn't say a word. He hugs you for as long as you need him to, and then a little bit after that.

[remosdeerica]

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Jon: Dad, come on. Of course Damian and I aren't going to take over the world.

Clark: I know, son. I-

Jon: I mean, of course we've talked about it.

Clark:

Clark: What?

Jon: Well, yeah. I'm one of the most powerful beings on the planet and Dami was literally raised to rule humanity.

Clark: Now, hold on-

Jon: And let's be honestly, we'd be a much better option than most of the other people vying for the job.

Clark: Son-

Jon: But we've discussed it and the logistics are just too complicated right now.

Clark *sweating*: Jonno-

Jon: I mean, first we'd have to decide on how to conquer the world in the first place. Like would it be through shadow Government, hostile takeover, enslavement...

Clark: Oh my g-

Jon: I thought Armageddon style might work. You know, less paperwork. But Dami's got OCD, he can't handle that kind of disorganization.

Clark: *horrified*

Jon: So, yeah. You have nothing to worry about. Dami and I have no plans to take over the world.

Clark:

Clark: T-that's.... great to hear, b-buddy.

Jon: At least not for another few years.

Clark: I'm sorry, wha-

[leupagus]

Really enjoying writing Book 2/Season 6 of this monstrosity, where instead of having Sansa and Jon fighting to regain Winterfell and all that nonsense with the "Battle of the Bastards," it's gonna be like 10K of Sansa being the Warden of the North equivalent of that mom who just needs FIVE MINUTES OF PEACE AND QUIET YOU GODDAMN KIDS

To the Lord Robin Arryn, Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East, and my Dear Cousin,

I write to you from Wint

"Sansa — sorry, Lady Sansa, you'll never believe—"

"Jeyne, you don't have to call me 'Lady Sansa,'" Sansa said as she looked up from her parchment. "You're the steward of Winterfell now."

Jeyne Poole, hanging onto the handle of the door and swinging it absently back and forth like she'd done back when they were ten years old, frowned. "My da always said the Lord and Lady of Winterfell were worthy of respect."

Sansa leaned back in her chair. Father had dealt with the business of the holdfast in the Library Tower, so he could wrestle with the accounts without being interrupted every twenty minutes. Sansa had always thought that a bit unfair, since it meant you had to climb all those stairs just to find him, but now she was wondering if she could perhaps build the tower twenty or thirty feet higher. The exercise would probably do her good. "Your father always called mine 'oi, you,' if I recall correctly."

The look Jeyne gave her was deeply unimpressed. "Aye, and you always complained about it. Do you want to hear about the cow loose in the guest house or not?"

erfell at last, which was the dearest wish of your beloved goodfather Petyr. His dying words were to express the hope that both his goodson and his niece be safe and secure in their homes, and I am glad to say tha

"Lady Sansa, Master Mikken has refused another dozen apprentices. He said they're all 'knuckleheaded clods who wouldn't know a round ball fuller from a chisel punch." This time it was her master-at-arms, who'd been Rodrick Cassel's round-faced child named Beth when Sansa had left. Now he went by Cass and looked like he could wrestle a (very short) bear if needs be.

"I don't know a round ball fuller from a chisel punch," Sansa replied, frowning.

Cass shrugged. "Well, and nor do I. But that's near fifty lads he's turned away. We need someone helping with the forges. We've been making do with the army smiths that Prince Stannis let us—"

"Prince Stannis?" He was going to hate that.

Another shrug. "We've got to call him something, milady. You won't call him 'king,' nor will any of your bannermen, but his soldiers give us no end of trouble when we call him 'lord.' So 'prince' it is. And he is one, too, ain't he? King Robert's brother. That'd make him a prince, right?"

Sansa answered with a shrug of her own. By the time Stannis and his companies returned from the Dreadfort, everyone in the North would likely have settled on Prince Stannis, which would lead to a great deal of shouting and probably threats of lighting people on fire, but she had at least a fortnight to think of something.

"As I was saying, we can't use the Baratheon smiths forever, and the ones from our bannermen have all gone home with their bannermen. Mikken needs apprentices, and we need our forge at full strength."

"All right, let's go speak with him," Sansa sighed.

t through the goodness of Stannis, of House Baratheon, and his masterful command of the armies of the North and the Stormlands, I am now secure as Warden of the North.

Not only that, but your dear cousin, my brother Rickon has somehow survived all the danger that the North has presented, while it was under the thrall of the Ironborn and House Bolton. He is now safe and I will reu

"My lady?" Maester Wolkan peered his head into the room.