𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨
gif by: @andrew-lincoln
pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader
summary: in times of stress, joel resorts to the one thing that calms him down; a nice bottle of whiskey. after you get dropped off by your date, joel makes sure to remind you just who you really belong to.
warnings: MINORS DNI. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], possessive joel, he's a peeping tom, TW: forced intoxication, peer pressure, manipulation, dumbification, forced first kiss, joel spits in your mouth, finger sucking
wc: 5k (it reached 4,999 words exactly so i added one more to make it even heheheheheh.)
notes: OKAY UM i did not expect this series to get THAT MUCH attention. all of y'all are some dirty little readers just like me. i'm genuinely excited seeing all the comments and reblogs. EXPECT THIS SERIES TO GET A LOT DIRTIER AS THE DAYS PASS.
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The day was hectic from the moment you woke up. The noise of cabinets slamming, the thud of heavy footsteps on the floorboards, and Joel's loud cursing were inescapable. It was only in the late afternoon that you gathered the courage to leave your room, go downstairs, and tell your stepdad about your date with a friend who had boldly invited you out.
Standing nervously in your spot, dressed in a bikini, jean shorts that rode up your thighs with each step you took, a wide knit crop top that slipped down your shoulders, and a pair of strappy sandals, you twiddle your fingers and waited for Joel to see you standing there.
Joel's upper body was concealed beneath the sink cupboard, a folded pillow cushioning his lower back. His feet, clad in boots, rested on the floor, knees bent skyward. A toolbox lay nearby, with tools and soiled rags strewn about. Another curse slipped quietly from his lips. There was a loud clank of metal that made you jump in your spot.
"Uh, Daddy?" you called out timidly, wincing and flinching as he cursed again, his voice booming and thunderous.
Upon hearing your voice, Joel frowns up at the leaking pipes above his face and sighs deeply. He's been working on these pipes since the minute he woke up. Catching sight of you, he pauses to take in your appearance, looking like a little vision in your short shorts and knitted top that exposes your bikini. He carefully maneuvers himself from under the sink, wincing and groaning when his knees pop as he plants a hand on the counter and lifts himself up to his full height.
"Hey there, pretty girl," he grins and wipes his hand with a rag. "Where ya headed lookin' like a sweet peach, huh?"
Flustered by his compliment and the teasing grin he sends your way, you giggle to yourself and glance down at your fidgeting fingers. Joel takes slow, deliberate steps towards where you stand. He notices the subtle shift in your stance as he approaches.
"I'm heading out to the lake soon," you tell him quietly, glancing up through your lashes. Your breath got caught in your throat when his large hands get a hold of your hips, his thumbs lifting the hem of your top to brush against your exposed skin. "If... If that's alright with... with you?"
Joel hums deep in thought, his eyes scanning your facial features as he thinks about what you'd look like if you got down on your knees and begged for mercy. "Of course, sweetheart," he gives you another grin of his. "Is it with that little group of friends o' yours?"
He catches the distinct twitch in your brow as you look away from him, lightly pulling yourself away from his close proximity but stopping once he tightens his hands on your hips, a silent command of I'm not done with you. He can sense that you're not telling him something, and that makes the grin on his face slowly fade into a frown.
"What ain't you tellin' me, girl?" He asks, his voice low and warning. When you answer his question in a small voice that makes it hard to hear and when you don't bother looking at him when you say it, he grabs your face and lifts your head, doing it a little rough than intended. "Look at me when you're talkin' to me and use your big girl voice when you do it."
A small squeak escapes your lips at the bruising hold he has on your jaw. You grabbed at his forearm with both hands, desperately trying to pull his hand away. His eyes darken and he scowls at the tears in your eyes. Snatching his hand away, he shuts his eyes tightly and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he sighs deeply and opens his eyes again, tutting quietly as he wipes your fallen tears. "Daddy just gets frustrated when you keep things from him. You see what happens when you do silly things like that? Hm?" He coaxes a shaky nod from you. "I know you're not smarter than most girls, babydoll, but that's why Daddy's here to teach you, okay? Whaddya say?"
"Sorry, Daddy," you whisper and bury your face in his sturdy chest, sniffling softly and wiping away your tears, wincing when the pressure applied to your jaw creates an ache. "It... It's not with my friends. Well, it is with a friend. A boy." You whisper the last part.
Joel's hands halt, ceasing their motion across your back. A boy? A friend that's a boy? And the two of you are going to a lake alone? Just the two of you. And he's going to be seeing you in a bikini with your delicate skin all exposed for him to touch?
"And this boy," he spits out the word, slowly peeling himself away from you, arms dropping at his sides as he glances over your shoulder to try and contain the rage waiting to burst. "Is he some kind of..." With a gesture his hand, he continues, "Boyfriend?" He doesn't like the fact that you're going out with a boy, alone. He fucking despises it. The tensing ache in his hand just begging to punch the little shit's face in for feeling like he has big enough balls to ask his sweet girl out.
"No, not at all," you rush to explain. "He's just a friend who asked me out, and I accepted because, why not?" Your attempt at a light-hearted laugh fades quickly under his intense glare. "Daddy? Are... Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?"
Joel folds his arms tightly across his chest, his anger unmistakable. The habitual tick of his jaw betrays his fury. Before he can respond, a knock interrupts. Joel strides over with heavy steps and flings the door open. The sight nearly draws a laugh from him. The boy before him is hardly a man, with gangly arms in a muscle tank, sunglasses perched on his face, and a backwards cap restraining his shoulder-length platinum blonde hair. It's clear to Joel that this kid is trying far too hard.
"Babydoll," he calls out over his shoulder. "Your little friend is here." He extenuates the two words as he stares into the young man's eyes, damn near burning a hole through them. A sadistic part of him loves watching the kid squirm under his gaze. When you stand beside Joel with your little tote bag on your shoulder, you look up at him with a nervous look in your eyes. He looks away and stares down at the short fucker. "I want her home by 6, no later."
With a firm pat to your butt, he ushers you out of the house and slams the door shut behind your back. Exhaling deeply, he mumbles to himself, "Fuck," and gets back to work under the sink.
By the time you arrived home, the clock had struck 9. The night had settled in, and the crickets were serenading. You had anticipated that the one-hour trail walk to the waterfall cave with your friend would mean breaking curfew. After a rushed expression of gratitude for the evening, you exited his car and scurried to your porch, your sandals almost causing a stumble due to your speed. Upon opening the door, the darkness of your home greeted you, save for the solitary light of the living room lamp. The shadows cast throughout the house intensified the anxiety within you.
"You're late," a husky voice calls out from the dimly lit living room, making you jump and gasp in fright at the sound of Joel. Sheepishly, you move further inside, pausing just before the open doorway of the living room.
There he sits, gripping a bottle of fine whiskey by the neck in one hand. He's settled in the middle of the couch, legs comfortably apart. His free arm is draped over the top of the couch's backrest. After taking another sip of whiskey, he turns to look at you. Your hair sports a charming wave, likely from the water and sun. You gaze back at him, your eyes wide with concern and a subtle pout on your lips.
"I know… I know I was late, Daddy, but…" His head shake cuts you off mid-sentence.
"So, how was your little date with the kid, hm? He slip you the tongue? He cop a feel?" Joel sends you a grin that was unmistakably fake and shifts his hips to spread his thighs wider, one knee bobbing up and down in an act of annoyance.
Coming into the living room, you carefully laid your bag down and stood in front of him, nervously fiddling with the hem of your knitted top. "He wanted to, but I didn't let him," you tell your stepdad in a quiet voice. Joel hums, deep in thought.
There was a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes at the thought of you rejecting some boy's advances. It pleased him knowing you were still pure, untouched. The predatory hunger that follows him around like a dark cloud above his head has been hard to ignore ever since he took advantage of your unconscious body the night before. He was the first man to have ever used you in such a way and he craved for more. He wanted to defile you, inch by inch.
"Come sit on my lap, sweetheart," he pats his lap, taking another sip of his whiskey before placing the bottle on the ground between his feet that were still covered by his work boots.
Knowing better than to go against his word, you carefully step over to him, being mindful of the bottle on the ground, and taking a seat on his lap with your thighs on either side of his hips. With shaky hands, you place them on his broad shoulders, still feeling the warmth of him through two layers of clothes.
"It's a good thing you said no to that boy, sweetheart. You don't need any other man but me. Ain't that right?" Joel tells you in a low timbered voice, his big hands holding onto your hips and yanking you closer. You gasped and fell against his chest with a small, "Daddy!"
Joel smiles menacingly at you, one hand climbing up your body to comb through your hair as he gets a better look at your face in the dimly lit room. He couldn't lie to himself when he thinks that you're so pretty looking sitting right here on his lap. It was so wrong, so taboo.
"Now that you're back, you can keep me company since you left me here by myself," he says with feigned sorrow, secretly enjoying the worried expression on your face as though you've truly upset him. "But luckily, I've got this for us to celebrate," he adds, bending down to pick up his bottle of whiskey and holding it up between the two of you.
Looking at the bottle and reading the label, you frown and look back at him. "But... it's alcohol. I'm not old enough to drink that!"
Joel's frown deepens, his annoyance now clear for you to see. He understands that it will take some time for you to cease worrying and to simply heed his words without question or hesitation. You are such a naive girl, always striving to do what's right, to be good, and to abide by the rules. But goddamn, if it wasn't fucking annoying.
"I'm gonna say this one last time," Joel speaks sternly, his jaw clenching tight as he glares into your frightened eyes. "I'm in charge of this house. If I tell you to do somethin', I expect you to fuckin' do it. Do I make myself clear, little girl?" He lowers his head to catch your wandering eyes. When you give him a feeble nod, he smiles brightly, pleased with the fact that you're going to be listening to him from now on, or so he hopes.
He hands you the bottle, and you hesitate for a split second before holding it in both hands. Joel leans back in his seat, both arms now resting on either side of him on the backrest. He tilts his head, patiently waiting for you to take the first sip of alcohol that will touch your virgin tongue.
"I'm nervous," you whimper, lifting the bottle to your nose and taking a tentative sniff before wincing from the strong stench as it burns your nostrils.
"Peach," he drawls, "don't you wanna feel more like an adult now that your momma's gone? Hm?" He can see that his careful wording is slowly rotting your mind, so he continues. "You're not a little girl anymore. You're a beautiful, young woman. And your momma's not here to stop you. C'mon, take a sip and see how ya feel. You can do it, sweetheart. Don't you wanna be my big, strong, adult girl?"
As you give him a feeble nod, your eyes drift to the reddish-brown liquid poised to cascade down your throat. Taking a deep breath, you bring the rim to your lips, tilt your head back, and allow a sip of the potent whiskey to enter your mouth. Accidentally swallowing a large gulp, the burn spreads through your esophagus and chest. You double over, hacking and coughing loudly, droplets landing on Joel's flannel as you retch against his shoulder. He chuckles deeply, patting your back, and proudly murmurs, "Attagirl."
Once you recover from the coughing fit, with a burning sensation in your chest and tears in your eyes, the aftertaste makes you cringe. Despite the drink's spiciness, as it settles in your stomach, it imparts an indescribable warmth. As you hand the bottle to Joel, he shakes his head and pushes it back into your chest. "Keep goin'," he tells you.
"I don't think I can handle it. It burns," you say weakly, trying to swallow as your mouth quickly fills with saliva. If you had to choose an alcoholic drink, whiskey would certainly not be it.
"C'mon, babydoll," Joel drawls. "Don't you wanna be like Daddy? Drinking stuff like this will make you get big and strong just like me." He can see the contemplation in your eyes as you listen to him. He suddenly sits up and leans in close to your space, smelling the whiskey on your breath through parted lips. "Don't leave me hangin'."
When you press the rim to your lips once again, Joel takes matters into his own hands and forces the bottle to tip higher in your hand, a thick stream of the brown liquid quickly entering your mouth before you could stop it. One of his hands holds the back of your head as the other clamps over your mouth. You're sputtering through your nose, eyes wide and filled with thick tears as the burning becomes too much to handle. He's staring at you, clearly enjoying your struggle.
"Swallow it, babydoll. C'mon, you can do it. Be a good girl and swallow," he says through gritted teeth, pressing his hand harder against your mouth when you frantically grab at his forearm. He tips your head back to face the ceiling. Then, he sees your throat bobs as you swallow the fiery liquid. When he moves his hands away, you're nearly hacking up at a lung and openly sobbing through heaving breaths. "That's my girl!"
Joel plants a kiss on your warm cheeks and gently runs his hands along your arms, hoping to soothe you. A soft laugh escapes him as you snuggle into his chest, your cries softening to faint hiccups and sniffles. He gives you a moment or two to settle down, letting the alcohol's calming effects take hold.
"I feel funny," you tell him in a sluggish voice as you sit up on his lap, holding your head in both hands as you stare at him through unfocused eyes. Your entire body, from head to toe, feels like it's being basked in the sun. You feel so warm all over, and tingly too. Your thoughts are hazy and jumbled, and you're just barely seeing two of everything.
Joel grins wolfishly upon witnessing your tipsy state. He can see in the way you're swaying on his lap, desperately grabbing onto his awaiting arms when you lean too far left and nearly topple over. He laughs at the dopey grin on your face and the way you look at him with dazed eyes. Seeing you in such an intoxicated state, so easy to manipulate and use, has his dick thickening in his jeans.
When you sloppily grab the bottle again and lean back to take another sip, some of the whiskey slides down your chin and neck. Joel leans over and uses his tongue to clean it up, paying extra attention to your exposed neck. Your entire body shivers at the warm muscle licking over your sensitive neck and his scruff scraping over.
"Daddy... that's... that's in-inappro-ropriate," your words come out slurred and stuttered, eyebrows drawn close as you try to speak clearly without fumbling; you failed miserably.
Joel hushes you softly. "This is what people do when they drink, babydoll. It's a natural thing to do, especially with pretty peaches like you. It's customary," he says in a sickly-sweet voice, his big hands combing through your hair to get you to look at him.
"Real-ly?" You hiccuped and giggled, quickly covering your mouth as the cinnamon-like taste came back. "Even... Even with... stepdaddies?"
"Especially with stepdaddies, babydoll," Joel huskily tells you, his eyes eagerly taking in the way your knitted top slid so far down your shoulders that it exposed your bikini top. He hums low in his throat, using an index finger to hook underneath the tied bow keeping your bikini together. "There are more things we do, if you wanna do 'em."
"Hm... like what?" Your head tilts like a curious puppy, the gleam in your eyes brightening. Joel bites at his bottom lip, leaning back in his seat and using his grip on your hips to pull you with him. You flop into his chest with a giggle before situating yourself more comfortably on his lap.
"Well, have you ever kissed anyone, sweetheart?" He asks you gruffly, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip lovingly. He knows you haven't. He would know. He knows everything.
There have been many instances where Joel will be walking past your room, your door ajar, and he'll press himself against the wall to eavesdrop on your phone conversations. Your friends would typically be on speakerphone, gossiping and bragging about their sex lives and romance while you have nothing to offer in return. You've never even touched yourself for god's sake. There have been other instances where late at night, Joel would sneak into your room long after you've gone to sleep and just stand there, watching, observing. He'll go as far as to lower the blanket and caress the supple skin of your thighs. The hunger he has is unfathomable.
"No," you answer in a small voice.
"That's a good thing, babydoll," Joel hushes you softly at the sound of your embarrassed whimper. "You see, only I can kiss you. Cause I'm the Daddy, and Daddy knows best, doesn't he?"
As he notices your eyebrows knitting together at his words, he smiles and anticipates your reply. He is aware that discussing this matter with you while you're sober would be challenging. Convincing you to set aside your concerns and trust in his words requires considerable effort.
"But... But it's wrong! It's not right! If-If my mom finds out, she could-"
Your sentence is suddenly cut off when Joel roughly grabs your face and yanks you down, forcing his lips onto yours and swallowing down your squeak of surprise. Dazed and confused, you grab his shoulders and push him away with as much strength as you could muster in your intoxicated state. Joel sits back and licks his lips, savoring the taste of your strawberry ChapStick on his tongue.
Laying a few fingers on your tingling lips, you stare at your stepdad with wide, shocked, and unfocused eyes. There's a unique warmth that nestles deep within your chest, one that whiskey cannot match. It's unexpected, to say the least. Not disgust, but rather a feeling of familiarity and desire washes over you.
"Only I know what's best for you, silly girl. Ain't that right?" His honeyed tone forces a nod out of you as you slip deeper into your whiskey-fused trance. "You're just too dumb to do these things on your own. That's why you need Daddy's help to guide you and make things better."
It all falls into place. From the early days of his relationship with your mom, Joel has been there for you. He taught you how to ride a bike, build a birdhouse from scratch, change a tire, and so much more. Now that you're an adult and still navigating the complexities of the real world, it seems only right to let Joel guide you through more aspects of becoming an adult, even when it comes to things intimate couples do as well.
Through your whiskey-soaked brain, you blearily nod and stare unfocusedly into his hooded eyes. "So... it's okay for me and you to... kiss and stuff?"
"Absolutely, sweet thing," he tells you with a small grin on his eager face, his hands briefly tightening on your hips as he gets closer into your space. "But this is gonna be our little secret, okay? I can't have that little mouth o' yours yappin' to your momma or your friends, or else I'll get into big, big trouble and people will take me away from you. You don't want that happenin', ain't that right?"
"No!" You yelped with eyes wide with fear as you gripped onto the collar of his flannel. "I won't say anything, I swear!" The thought of someone taking Joel away from you or vice versa was enough to instill fear. You had just now started feeling like an adult with his help. Without him, you'd be lost. You don't want to feel lost without his guidance.
Joel nods and glances at your lips. "That's what I thought," he hums lowly, glancing back into your half-lidded eyes and grinning wider at the pure fear in them. He grabs the discarded bottle of whiskey and knocks his head back to take a large gulp. He grunts and winces at the burn, exhaling deeply out of his mouth before bending down to place the bottle back on the ground.
"Do you want Daddy to show you how adults kiss?" His question makes you perk up, an eager bounce in your position, unknowingly moving against his bulge hidden in the tightness of his jeans. He lets out a strained groan and looks down as you do so.
When you desperately nod, Joel licks his lips, swallowing down the last bit of whiskey on his tongue before readying himself. He gently holds your face with his big hands, humming quietly in thought when your lips parted subconsciously. Tilting his head to one side, he quietly instructs you to close your eyes, and you obey like a good girl.
When he kisses you a second time, albeit a little less forcefully, he swallows down the whimper that vibrates against his mouth. He kisses you again, and again, and again. The scent of sunscreen and perfume on your skin was tantalizing. The aroma of whiskey lingered on your breath, gradually blending with the fruity flavor of your ChapStick. Joel had never imagined such a mix could be so alluring.
Pulling away from your lips, he looks down at your body. Your covered pussy was just on top of his clothed cock. He can feel the subtle shift of your hips, just barely grinding.
"Stick out your tongue, babydoll," he gravelly commands, his voice rough and thick with need. You opened your eyes, parted your lips, and slowly stuck your tongue out. "Attagirl."
Then, he sucks your tongue into his mouth, sliding his own beside yours before shutting his eyes and getting lost in the taste. Your mom was never a whiskey drinker, let alone any type of alcohol--not even wine. Tasting the faint aroma of his favorite dark liquor on her daughter's tongue has him groaning huskily against your mouth. You followed his movements sloppily, trying to keep up with his lips and tongue.
His scent was heavenly, infused with notes of cedar and pine, a rich blend that was both earthy and robustly masculine. Everything about Joel screamed I'm a man and I know what I'm doing. Having been so much older than you and far more experienced, it's safe to say that you're in very good hands. The back of your mind was screaming at you to stop, this is so wrong, stop right now. Yet your heart yearned to prove its maturity to him, to demonstrate that you could be as grown-up as he is. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him to someone else. You were determined to fight with every fiber of your being to prevent that from happening.
Pulling away from his lips with a wet noise resonating between your mouths, a thin string of saliva connects from the two. Joel wipes it away with his thumb, his mouth dropping when you pull his thumb into your awaiting mouth. "Fuck," he breathes out. "Just like that."
"Am I doing good?" You asked him with your teeth gently nibbling the pad, sloppily swirling your tongue to suck his thumb deeper into your mouth as saliva slowly slides down his palm.
Joel nods, unable to hide the hardness hidden in his jeans. "You're doin' so good for Daddy, babydoll. He's so proud of you. You're just too stupid to do things on your own, hm? Let alone with an inexperienced boy." His thumb hooks over your bottom set of teeth, coaxing your mouth open. His index and middle finger gently prod at your pink tongue, the warmth and slickness of it, soft like velvet, making him choke back a heaving grunt.
You suck his fingers back into your mouth, humming and nodding dumbly at his words. He can tell that you have no idea what he just said, which makes this even better. Now he knows how easy it is to dumb you down and make you do whatever he wants. Oh, this is going to be fun.
Joel's fingers are ripped out of your mouth. He grabs yourself roughly, squeezing your cheeks to force your lips into a wet pout. "Tongue out," he demands, and you do it. He tilts your head back and leans over above your face. With this position, it forces an arch in your back, further pressing your aching core against his thickness. Then, Joel does the unthinkable.
He purses his lips and spits into your mouth, watching as the dribbled line of saliva lands onto your awaiting tongue. The confused whimper you let out has his mind reeling. He wished he could've recorded this moment; he would've definitely watched it on repeat during the nights where it's just him, his right hand, and a bottle of lube.
"Swallow it," he commands, roughly shaking your head to break you out of your little dazed state. Joel grins wolfishly when your tongue goes back into your mouth to swallow his warm spit. "Attagirl."
He goes right back to kissing you all messy and sloppy. You, on the other hand, couldn't shake the feeling of warmth in your core. It was throbbing and only getting stronger. You tried grinding your hips to see if it would go away, but then a tingly sensation settled deep in the pit of your tummy. Whining with frustration, you pull away from Joel's lips and look down at your crotch.
"Hey, hey, what's goin' on, sweetheart?" He asks you softly, trying to bring your head to look up at him. He notices the furrow in your brow and the frown on your kiss-swollen lips.
"My... My... down there... feesl very warm and-and tingly, and it won't go away!" You angrily explained and huffed as you crossed your arms with a pout. "Why won't it just go away and leave me alone?!"
Joel outwardly laughs at you, making you pout even deeper in embarrassment of being laughed at by him, yet again.
"You silly, silly girl," he chuckles warmly, leaning in close to kiss up and down your neck while tenderly rubbing the exposed skin of your hips under your knit top. "It just means you're likin' what we're doin', babydoll. It means you're feelin' good down there."
Tilting your head from the newfound information, you try to let it register in your head. Is this really what happens when you like kissing? You've never had this feeling before. You've heard stories of what your friends have done to themselves and with other people, but it still confuses you. It was embarrassing, to be quite honest. You hated reaching an age of adulthood where you're still left in the dark about intimate stuff. Joel could see it on your face.
"Hey, look at me." And you do. "Ain't nothin' wrong with that, okay? This allows Daddy to show you how to make it go away, and we're gonna do that tomorrow, so don't worry about that right now." His reassurance was comforting enough to the point where you couldn't refrain from nearly jumping back on him to kiss him again.
Joel kisses, sucks, licks, and bites his way into your mouth. Every reaction he receives, he swallows it down with a swipe of his tongue. He could do this for hours and never get tired. Your mom's lips were thin and often never had rhythm when he would attempt a make-out session with her. But with you, you were a born natural.
And he created that. His innocent girl was going to be turned into his own little plaything, ready to be used and abused. He couldn't wait to have his false promises rot your stupid, desperate little mind.
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Common Tongue
hozier x f!reader
part five of lullabies <3 | part four | masterlist
cw: 18+, oral sex, a lot of this is sex ok u should know me by now, the word 'balls', not much plot tbh
word count: 4.1k
taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure @the-imperfectgirl-blog @l1nd3n @yunonaneko xo
I woke in the delicious warmth of Andrew’s arms, his soft breaths against my neck sending a chill down my spine. I gently nuzzled into his touch, his arms autonomously holding me tighter. For the next week and a half, this was my morning routine. Also part of the morning routine was the part where I would slip out of his grip as gently as possible when I was on the verge of weeing myself.
I’d slip back into bed, entranced by the way sleep drenched breaths swam through the small parting of his lips. The way his muddy greens danced under his eyelids as he dreamt, and the way his thick lashes swept along his high cheekbones made it near impossible for me to look away.
We danced around the fine line of being lovers, friends, and fuck buddies, not even entertaining the thought of defining what we were. I knew it was all probably moving too fast considering I’d just gotten out of a relationship. Not that I really cared - Andy had a way of numbing me. Numbing the heartbreak in a way that I didn’t even have to acknowledge it. He made me feel happy and sexy and loved, if that’s what you’d call it.
Like he could feel it, he’d wake to me watching him, causing me to blush profusely and apologise. He’d either pull me in and kiss my neck and forehead, or remind me with a grin, “staring is rude, y’know,” in his deep, groggy morning voice. It was rare to catch him watching me sleep as I was the early riser of the two of us. But during the day, I’d swear I was his favourite sight. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.
This past week also consisted of numerous phone calls to Andy, all from producers begging to sign him to their labels. I was so ecstatic for him, but of course, he was overtly humble as always. After doing his research and attending a few meetings, he decided to go with Rubyworks.
“Andy!” I threw myself into his arms excitedly, squeezing him so hard, I thought he might implode. “I’m so proud of you… we have to celebrate!”
“I’dunno, baby…” he sighed, raking his hands through the back of my hair while I melted into his touch. “This all might blow up in my face yet.”
“Don’t talk rubbish!” I scolded him, peeling my face away with my arms still around him so he could see me frown. “And you deserve to be celebrated. And we have no plans for dinner. Please?”
“Because you’ve twisted my arm,” he gave in, bending down slightly to capture my lips in his. As if I had any control at this point, I autonomously kissed him back, a squeak leaving me when he effortlessly picked me up and sat me on his kitchen island.
He deepened the kiss, one of his hands squeezing my thigh, the other tangled in my hair. I sighed against him, my hands skating across his abdomen. His tongue slipped into my mouth, forcing me to swallow a grunt of his. Both of his hands now slipped up my thighs, stopping just at the crease of my hip with a firm squeeze.
“You’d better stop,” he warned, pupils blown.
“Or what?” I teased, hands now gripping his biceps. Fuck dinner. I’ll give him something better to eat.
“You’ll see later,” he promised with a kiss to my temple, sliding his hands off me. “Let’s get ready now, or it’ll be impossible to drag me out of this house.”
“Fine,” I sighed in faux disappointment, hopping off the table and dragging him behind me by his hand.
I put on my favourite dress; a flowy black number with a corset like top that did me lots of favours in the breast department. I wore some simple three inch heels, sheer black stockings, and a faux leather coat. My hair was slicked back into a wavy ponytail, complimented by some chunky gold jewellery to break up all the darks I had on. I wore Andrew's favourite perfume of mine, Jimmy Choo's Eau De Parfum. I'd always had an illustrious love for fashion, but oftentimes Joe had an issue with my style. Not Andy, though. His jaw just about hit the floor and he looked as if he were close to calling off our plans and just taking me to bed instead. Not that I would have protested... but no, tonight was about him.
He looked edible in a black button up and brown jacket, with those white converse's that were basically fused to his feet at this point. He trimmed his beard down and has doused himself in Tam Dao by Diptique, and when I say he smelt divine, I mean, I considered calling off our plans as well.
At first, we found ourselves in a cheesy karaoke bar that was walking distance from his house. We threw back a couple shots, laughing and cheering on both the good and… not so good performances. Andy always said that despite the voice he was gifted with, he hated singing karaoke. I eventually convinced him to duet Islands in the Stream with me. It was the most fun I’d ever had. He then gave his own rendition of Sex Bomb, and I hate to admit it, but it did something to me. We snacked on shitty street food as we passed through the weekend markets, enjoying our tipsy people watching.
After that, we found a dim lit bar in the west end with live music and cheap drinks for happy hour. We caught a taxi and walked hand in hand from the car to our booth. For once, I loved having everyone's eyes on us. I wanted everyone to see us together, though we weren't really together.
The combination of the sultry jazz band in the background mingling with the effects of too much alcohol too fast had me sliding my foot up his leg, getting a high from watching his eyes darken as he squirmed. He gave me a warning look, to which I innocently sipped at my drink and averted my head to the band, gently applying pressure to his crotch. I felt his hand grip my ankle, and when I thought he'd move me away, he ran his hands up my leg instead, stopping only when he reached my knee. I turned my head back to him quickly, my core growing hot at the feeling. He looked gorgeous, curls framing his face, his eyes fixed on me as if I were the most interesting thing in the room.
His stare challenged mine, almost daring me to keep going. The look in his eyes screamed, "see what will happen," and I have never been one to turn down a dare.
Drunkenly, I slid my finger around the rim of my glass, bringing the salt to my lips as I sucked my finger clean, making effort to show my tongue at first. I pushed it in far deeper than necessary, almost able to hear the way his breath hitched in his throat. His grip on my ankle tightened, and I applied a bit more pressure with my heel.
"I swear to God, I will throw you into a cab right now," his eyes were hooded and narrowed in on me. It felt like a stand off between a predator and prey, despite feeling nothing but safety in his presence.
"You wanna take me home, big boy?" I teased, relishing in the way his cheeks flushed when I used the ridiculous pet name. He loved a good double entendre. Well, triple entendre, really.
I reached across the table to grab his hands, running my thumb over his knuckles. Despite the often heated nature of our exchanges recently, I'd never felt more loved. Maybe that was the wrong word, it was too soon. I'd never felt more secure.
He abruptly got up from the booth, dragging me to the dance floor with him. I laughed wildly, the alcohol buzzing through both of our veins like a freight train. “You hate dancing!”
“I know!” He shouted back over the music, pulling me in close to him by my waist. “But you’re beautiful and you’ve been force feeding me whiskey.”
“Hardly force feeding,” I scoffed, slapping his arm playfully. We swayed to a cover of I’d Rather Go Blind by Etta James, giggling uncontrollably at how uncoordinated we both were. It didn’t matter, it felt good.
Then there was the feeling of someone bumping into me hard, followed by the cold of a drink soaking the back of my legs. I gasped, pushing myself further into Andy to get away from the feeling.
“Sorry,” the woman spoke with no sign of remorse in her tone or expression. Andy was quick to grab a handful of napkins from the table beside us, wiping me down as I blushed embarrassedly. I was sure I was hallucinating when I looked up and saw Joe smirking. Fucking loser.
“Andy,” I pulled him up by his coat from where he was wiping me down. “Let’s go.”
“It’s okay, darlin’, you can’t even tell-“
“No, Joe is here. Let’s leave, please.” I felt hot and nauseous immediately, the glint in his eye from across the room all too familiar. He was going to make me pay for leaving him.
Andrew’s expression turned unreadable, yet he still nodded and stayed close behind me as I quickly fled the bar. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I nodded, acutely aware of how dry my throat felt. “He’s just unpredictable, I’d rather not deal with him tonight. Or, ever for that matter.”
He just hummed in response, lacing his fingers with mine. He pulled out his phone to order us an Uber. I tried to protest, insisting that we hadn’t celebrated him enough. He shushed me with a kiss, reassuring me that tonight was wonderful and he was grateful. I leaned into his body while we waited in the cold, his arm around my shoulder as we watched the traffic pass us by.
“So you are with him?” Joe scoffed, seeming to appear out of thin air. I startled at his voice, scolding myself internally for peeling away from Andy so quickly. “And you couldn't fuckin' wait for the chance to steal her, could you?"
“We aren’t together,” I quickly interjected, ignoring the way Andy’s face faltered at my clarification. “And even if I was, we are over. It’s over. Don’t you understand?”
“I understand that you can’t keep your legs shut.”
I was taken aback by his comment, unable to think of a snarky reply as my cheeks warmed and my jaw slackened.
"That's no way to speak to a woman, show some fuckin' respect," Andrew growled, stepping closer to my ex, absolutely towering over him. Joe tried to get in his face, both of them puffing their chests out like two pigeons. It was kind of sexy. Is that horrible to say?
"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Joe bit back, grabbing a fistful of Andrew's shirt.
"Stop!" I shrieked, grabbing Andrews' wrist, trying my hardest to get him away from Joe. "I want to go home."
"Home?" Joe seethed through gritted teeth, his face red as a traffic light.
Andrew shoved Joe back, sending him stumbling, barely finding his footing.
"Andy, I want to go home," my voice was fragile as I tugged on his wrist once more, his expression immediately softening when he saw tears in my eyes. He took my hand in his, leading me away as he checked to see if Joe was hanging around. Looks like the security guard saw him, thankfully.
The Uber rolled up two minutes later and I couldn't have climbed in any quicker. I was beyond grateful to be in a warm car rather than out in the cold with Joe.
"That was fuckin' scary," I huffed, throwing my head back against the headrest.
"I'm sorry," he cooed with a gentle hand threading through my hair. "I shouldn't have said anything to him."
"That was not your fault," I assured him, turning to look at those big, doe eyes that were starting to make me weak.
He gave me a half hearted smile and sat in silence for the rest of the drive. I wondered what he was thinking, but felt it was probably best to just let him feel how he needed to. When we got home, we thanked the driver and walked into Andrews house in silence.
"Are you okay?" I asked gently, standing by as he shucked his coat.
"Yeah," he sighed with a shake of his head, though it wasn't convincing in the slightest.
"Did I do something? Or, say something?" I prodded further, softly taking his hand so he'd look at me.
"Really, it's no big deal," he gave me a half hearted smile, squeezing my hand once before heading for the stairs. "I'm gonna go shower."
I watched as he walked away, wracking my brain for anything that could have happened. Surely seeing Joe didn't upset him.
Then I remembered how fast I was to reassure my ex that Andy and I weren't exclusive. Fuck. I planned out my approach in my head for a while so I didn't dig the knife in deeper.
When I made it to his room, he was in his closet with dampened curls and a towel around his waist, looking for clothes, I presume. I knocked softly to let him know I was at the door.
"Andy?"
He hummed in response, turning only his head to me.
"Is it because I said we aren't together?"
He huffed some half witted laugh, almost as if he were embarrassed.
I walked closer to him, taking his hand into mine. "Well we aren't officially together, Andy." I sighed. "But I guess we kind of are together, aren't we?"
That caught his eye.
"And," I continued, "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with right now." I took his face into my hands, pulling him close as I softly kissed him. His mouth was much warmer than mine and he smelt so fresh and delicious.
Each time we kissed, something deep inside of me sparked like a flint and steel. The near palpable electricity of that spark conducted its way through my lips straight to his. We found a steady rhythm that was soon forgotten, replaced by tongue and teeth, desperate for more. Without breaking contact, we staggered back onto the bed, only the cotton of his towel and the nylon of my stockings keeping our bodies separated. My hands tugged at his soft auburn curls, eliciting encouraging hymns of appraisal that I wished I could devour. His hands dug into my hips harder than he ever had. Not hard enough to hurt me, but hard enough to let me know he wanted me just as bad as I did him.
I moved my mouth to his neck, sucking at his delicate skin, feeling his pulse against my lips. He shuddered and gasped, desperately trying to grind my body against his. The sinful noises he made only made me crave him more, only made me yearn for his beautiful rhapsodies. To hear them alone, without the deafening ring of my own pleasure in my ears, to hear them without my own pants and sighs overwhelming his. Just him, all of him.
"Andy, I really want to suck your cock," I blurted, pulling away to look at him through drooped eyelids. "May I please?"
"Good manners," he joked, his eyes even more lidded than my own. "Of course, baby." He pulled me in for another kiss, his tongue gliding against mine as I let a hand trail down his stomach and underneath his towel. I felt him twitch in my hand as I started to stroke him, his groans reverberating in my mouth.
I had never wanted to knob somebody off so bad. I always hated it with whoever else I was sleeping with. There was something about Andy. He was such a giver that it felt wrong not to give him something back. Like I'd be missing out on a sacred experience if I didn't do it right now. There was no part of me that didn't get pleasure out of pleasuring him.
I pulled my lips from his, sliding down between his legs. I kissed from his jaw to his collarbones, to his chest and then his stomach, watching goosebumps form along his creamy skin, his calloused hands skating along my forearms.
I finally freed him from the towel, watching his cock jump against his happy trail. I took him into my hand, pumping his length a few times to see his facial expression change. My God, was it the most divine sight. Unable to hold off any longer, I licked a flat stripe over his tip, his precum dancing on my tongue.
"Fuck," he practically gasped, gently grabbing the back of my head.
I slowly wrapped my lips around his tip using one of my hands to guide him into my mouth. Without taking his eyes off me, he reached behind his head for a pillow, staring at me like he might die if he looked away. I didn't dare take my eyes off his.
I slowly took more of him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him as I did so. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, borrowing a whimper from my mouth working around him. I pulled off briefly to blink up at him, "tell me how you like it, please."
He whimpered some response, nodding desperately. I put my mouth on him again, looking up for further instruction.
"Stick your tongue out a little," he breathed, the faintest of smiles on his face. "Good, now start movin', baby."
I nodded best I could with my mouth full, bobbing my head at a steady rhythm. I looked up at him through my lashes, my stomach flipping at the sight before me.
"Gooood girl," he praised me, freeing one of his hands from my hair to brush his thumb over my cheek. "Can you go a little faster, angel?"
I hummed in agreement, moving my head along his length faster, keeping my tongue out along the base the way he liked, making sure to hollow my cheeks the best I could. Not that there was much room for that. I moved one hand to steady myself against his thigh, the other slipping down to massage his balls.
"Jesus Christ," he moaned, throwing his head back. "Yeah, that's it. Just like that." My stomach flipped, my core on the verge of boiling over. I swear I could get off on the sight and sounds of him alone.
I took him as deep as I could, fighting off the urge to gag as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. My jaw was aching and tears were threatening to fall from my eyes, but I was determined. I could tell he was close by the unsteady rhythm of his breathing.
He gave my hair a firm tug, a warning, almost as if to give me the option to pull off. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you keep going."
I hummed in acknowledgement, no shred of intention to stop in my body.
"Where, baby?" He breathed, the muscles in his stomach beginning to tense. I traced a few shapes with my tongue as a form of communication, my way of showing him where, looking up at him. "Christ, Y/N," he groaned, spilling hot ribbons onto my tongue, his hips stuttering beneath me. I kept my mouth on him as he rode out his high, his face contorted in ecstasy, brows furrowed, mouth agape as his euphonious appraisals slipped from it.
I pulled off, my lips swollen and red, mascara no doubt running down my cheeks, and now uncomfortably horny.
Like he could read my mind, he sat up pulled me into his lap, now kissing my neck. His beard scratched across my collarbones in the most tantalising way, his hands working quickly to unzip my dress. He did so with ease, slipping the material off my shoulders where it pooled in our laps.
"You are perfect," he sighed against my skin, kissing me hard as he palmed one of my breasts. I whimpered against him, my hands in his hair as he buried his face in my chest. One of his hands cradled the bottom of my skull, the other guiding my breast to his mouth as he flicked his tongue across my nipple.
"Andy," I whined, pure need unmistakable in my tone. "Mmh, need you, baby."
He flipped me onto my back without warning, sliding down the bed between my thighs. His eyes were hungry, almost primal. Despite his release only moments prior, he had determination written all over his face as he buried his face between my thighs, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses through my stockings. "Please, I need you now. Please, please," my voice was whinier than I'd ever heard it, so much so I almost didn't recognise it.
My dress was still bunched around my waist, but he didn't seem too inconvenienced. My stockings, however, had no chance of surviving this one. In one fluid movement, he ripped through the crotch of my stockings, tearing them thigh to thigh. I gasped, my stomach flipping at the gesture. He pulled my knickers to the side, sliding his tongue over my clit without warning. Instantly, my back was arching autonomously, my head already thrown back against the mattress.
His tongue flitted against me with expert precision, switching between sucking and licking. "Tell me how you like it," he spoke against me, the vibrations from his voice combined with his soft lips against the most sensitive part of my body making my head go fuzzy. I couldn't even respond, only able to fumble around for his hand.
He slipped two fingers in with ease and I nearly screamed in pleasure. Lewd, wet noises filled the room, my whines and moans somehow even louder than the physical proof of my arousal. His deft fingers worked me to the fastest orgasm known to man, hitting my g-spot with each thrust, his tongue signing love letters onto my clit.
I chanted his name like a mantra, desperately clinging to the bedsheets beneath me as I completely lost myself under his touch. The most incredible feeling ever ripped through my every nerve ending, every fibre, every atom of my being. I shook uncontrollably beneath him, toes curled, eyes screwed shut as I made noises nobody else had ever torn from me. This must be what heaven feels like.
I finally came back down to Earth, panting like I'd ran a marathon. Andy wiped his mouth on the towel, the most satisfied grin I'd ever seen plastered to his face.
"Andy, I-" I stammered, genuinely lost for words as I laid my head on his chest. "I owe you the world. What do you want? Whatever it is, it's yours."
"Are you kiddin' me?" He laughed exasperatedly, kissing my forehead. "I should be givin' you the world. That was the closest to a religious experience I've ever had."
"You'd better write a song about this," I half joked, shimmying my dress off finally.
"Way ahead of ya', darlin'," he sighed in content. "I need to do that more."
"You ruined my stockings, Andy," I sighed in faux disappointment, "but that might have been the sexiest thing I've ever seen."
Then he was back to his shy self, a bashful grin on his face that he covered with his arm, leaving my heart to soar within my chest.
Fuck. I was catching proper feelings. Like... proper. Like, L-Word feelings. The realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks. Andy was to go and record some songs next week. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he got really famous and left me behind? Was I just sex? Was he just a rebound? It all has really moved fast, I shouldn't be getting attached...
"I'm gonna shower," I smiled politely, excusing myself before he had a chance to say anything.
A million thoughts raced through my mind at once. Was I trying to sabotage this for myself? It felt nice to be clean, a nice reset. The water defrosted me, made me feel centred again. I dried off and slipped into one of his hoodies.
"I need to tell you something," I blurted, unable to stop the words from coming out as I walked back into his room.
i did some googling and there might be some confusion (or maybe not, but just in case) when i say stockings i mean toe to hip tights/hosiery. i'm australian lol i apologise if some things don't make sense... i don't like the word hosiery ok
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afterglow | pedro pascal [2/3]
"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"
previous chapter: [1]
summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.
pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader
genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature
word count: 15k
status: 2/3 complete
author's note: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT LOVES. even though its gonna be three parts lol i still want you to want more. i've been confused on my writing because tbh- i feel like i could do better and keep rushing with these storylines and end up regretting them AFTER they are posted lol. not edited- it really isn't.
"Let's cut the chit-chat and get some real answers, why did y'all breakup?"
"Andrew!"
"Three days have passed, she's fine now," he defended, shrugging as Florence shot him an irritated look by his prying behavior.
It has indeed been a few days since the terrible night that consisted in you meeting your favorite artist, crying beside her, running awkwardly away right after, having a screaming match with your ex, and then passing out in the car.
So, you couldn't deny it wasn't a memorable night.
The past three days could've been better to say the least if your management team stopped spamming you with text messages concerning the fight, maybe even ignoring the loads of pictures of your crying face.
Oh, the pictures. Not a fun sight to see.
Luckily for you, the pictures were only ones inside the party near Andrew- not Pedro. Unfortunately, though, your picture was turned into a 'crying in the club' meme.
You couldn't exactly be mad over it, you loved memes.
Thank the Lords the paparazzi were clueless and never ended up catching your argument with Pedro or you wouldn't know how to cover it up.
You could never get away with the typical 'friends fighting' after he shouted how much he loved you.
And bless the celebrities near you for minding their business.
To clear up your meltdown, you took it upon yourself to send out a quick tweet the next morning with a "i'm sorry i'm an emotional drunk. one second we're talking about 500 days of summer and then...well you already know how THAT ends."
In that moment you couldn't care less if people believed you or not, this was going to pass fast anyway.
Now here you were, sitting in front of your kitchen bar as Andrew and Florence decided to pay you a visit because they missed you- or so they say.
Realistically, they wanted to see if you were still a hot mess.
Which you weren't, obviously.
Shailene would have tagged along, but she was busy doing grown up things, such as working on her latest project Andrew claimed which was a slight bummer. She was the mediator, now who else was going to stop the arguments calmly between your two friends.
Florence disagreed, shaking her head. "You can't just ask her that, it's impolite."
Sighing, Andrew sent you an apologetic glance. "Okay, I am sorry." Not taking his eyes off you, you could feel his curiosity and eagerness from the other side of the kitchen. "But we're all thinking it."
Judging by how unresponsive Florence became, you could tell she wasn't going to fight him on this. And well, she was secretly on his side because your fight with Pedro was seriously excessive.
She just wanted to know what he could've done to make you so angry, it didn't make sense to her if he did cheat. He didn't seem like the type, but some people do the most surprising things- so she couldn't really tell.
"Do you want the last reason or all of them?"
Widening his eyes, Andrew shares a glance with Florence for a swift second before finding your eyes. "Last reason?"
"The last fight we had that led us to finalize our breakup."
"Finalize," he giggled, leaning on the marble counter. "This isn't a divorce process."
"For a person who is so concerned about my relationship crisis, you seem to be catch on to the most irrelevant stuff."
"So you admit you still want to be with him," Andrew declared, giving a smug look as you tried to process his words. "If you're still stressing over him, it means you don't want to let him go."
"I never said I was stressing over hi-"
"Did she or did she not just claim she was undergoing a crisis-," Andrew interrupted, slightly raising his voice. "-a relationship crisis, to be exact."
Florence sheepishly looked your way, capturing your stern expression before slowly nodding.
Your male friend clapped his hands loudly before bursting out a wider grin, happy someone had his back. "There we have it, if he's on your mind that much to turn into a crisis- you still love him!"
Furrowing your brows, you didn't know how to respond. It was true, you had many moments where Pedro agitated you even when you haven't been near him for quite some time.
But isn't being wound up over an ex part of healing?
Truth be told, you knew your feelings for Pedro hadn't completely disappeared, but love? You weren't even sure love existed by your past experiences.
"I do not love him," you hiss, vigorously snatching the water bottle on the counter and aggressively opening it. "How can love be real? It's baffling."
"Questioning the real question with a question," he sneers, making Florence and you become confused as ever. "You're so in love him."
Florence cuts in, squinting her face in puzzlement. "Wait- what's the real question she's supposedly questioning with a question?"
"Love!" he cheers happily before placing his hand on his palm, dreamingly gazing at you. "You have your doubts on what love may be, but without knowing it you're having them because you're questioning your love to Pedro since you're too scared to admit you still love him."
"I don't get it."
Rolling your eyes, you swiftly turn away and head towards your living room to lay on your couch. You were not in the mood to have someone else tell you what your feelings were when they weren't you. "I'm done with this conversation."
Hearing a low slapping noise, following an irritated hiss, you could make out Florence's displeased voice. "See what you did! Now she's not going to tell us."
"So much for moral support, you really are nosy," Andrew fought back, whispering loudly.
A minute or two went by since you couldn't make out what they were saying before rushed footsteps soon made their way near you as your friends awkwardly smiled, hoping they didn't upset you too much.
Because they really wanted to know the drama.
Pushing him roughly from behind, Florence sent you an innocent smile as Andrew landed near your side of the couch, trying his best to hold his composure and not turn back around and start another fight.
Placing a light hand on your shoulder, you blankly glance at it before meeting his attention. "We just wanted you to know we totally understand if you aren't comfortable...expressing your past-"
"Get your hand off me and let's get this over with so you two can leave already."
Florence quickly sat right beside Andrew, both not offended with your statement because they were fully aware of how annoying the were becoming.
Before you could say anything, Florence quickly spoke aloud. "Start from the beginning!" Andrew slowly looking back to her, he sent her a confused look. "So we aren't lost, of course."
Laughing lightly, you nod before adjusting yourself on your seat. It was going to be hard to remember all the details clearly because there really wasn't an exact time issues occurred, it kind of just naturally appeared here and there.
Now that you think of it, majority of the tiny disputes during the earlier days of your relationship were probably on the same level as when you two were splitting, but maybe the dense ones created towards the end really made it hard to continue.
"If I'm being totally honest, we never really had problems when we first started dating. He was really great," you begin, clutching onto a pillow you found right beside you. "And he would always make sure to watch me make it inside my house before leaving, that was when I knew he wasn't some fling."
Andrew smirked, nodding proudly. "Classic move."
Smiling at the thought, you focused your mind to uncover the ugly truths that slowly tore you two apart.
"But then one day, I wanna say a few weeks after our second anniversary, we just started...fighting?"
Tilting your head, you look down as sad memories began pouring through your mind completely. "It wasn't our usual small fights over who left the bathroom floor wet or dropping his ipad in the pool-"
"-you dropped his ipad in the pool?" Florence coughed, bewildered by your scandalous actions.
"He wanted to know if it was waterproof," you defended.
"Was it?"
"No," you nervously reply, avoiding their eyes. "But he had it backed up and I bought him a new one!"
"That was kind of a bitchy move," Andrew muttered, catching your pissed gaze. "But at least you made up for it!"
Maybe it wasn't that great of an idea to just throw it in, but he did say he was really curious and wanted to dump it under the sink.
"Anyway," you start back up again, making Andrew lowly sigh in relief. "Our fights were never that serious, or at least not until he started filming for that new tv series he joined."
Florence spoke up, lightly questioning "The Last of Us?"
Nodding, you shrugged. "I guess it's normal to say the time apart did cause a rift in our relationship, but it wasn't too bad. He always made sure to call and facetime at least once every two days."
"But one day when he was visiting during his week break he just...snapped?" you frowned, not even wanting to visualize the tiny argument.
You had to for your own good.
"He had been home for maybe two days before he suddenly became moody. Like- his attitude was insane, I have never seen him like this ever," you sigh, closing your eyes for a second before continuing. "He didn't want to go out to eat, didn't want me to make him food, and when I offered to have it delivered he slammed the bedroom door on my face and claimed he was going to bed."
"Woah, why would he do that?" Andrew asked, seriousness splattered all over his face.
You wish you knew.
"Not sure, I just thought maybe work was stressing him out so I wanted him to have his alone time to clear his mind."
"Did that work?"
Sitting up straighter, you send a sorrowful smile. "For the rest of that week-yes. He ended up apologizing to me when I tried going to bed and said his manager was being tough on him for some scenes they had done."
You remember the moment you walked inside your bedroom, disappointed that he was awake. Not wanting to cause more tension, you planned to sneak under the covers and deal with the incident in the morning.
But his arms slowly wrapping over your waist as you had your back facing him said otherwise. Pulling you closer, you remember the soft "please don't be mad at me" he whispered near your ear, making sure you felt his tight embrace as if to prove you were his.
That night ended with you turning your body over to face him, accepting his open arms as a way to answer his pleading way of forgiveness.
Like always.
"Once he went back to work, we still talked- but I could tell he wasn't fully engaged like he always was," you sulk, remembering the first time you caught him not listening. "It got to the point where I purposely stopped answering his calls."
Your friends quickly send you a shocked look, you continue before they could intercept. "I couldn't handle his lack of attention, I would rather have him panic from the rejected calls than just tell him why I was upset."
It wasn't your best move, but you were frustrated. It wasn't fair that he was the one who got to treat you poorly and you had to accept it.
You admit, maybe if you communicated with him about these issues you could've prevented many future arguments and even saved your relationship.
But you were human and sometimes humans act human.
"Then what happened?" Andrew asked, a curious appearance plastering his face. "You continued ignoring him?"
Laughing lightly, you shake your head. It was the plan, but plans don't always work out. "Actually, he secretly took a flight back home one weekend and confronted me."
Gasping, Florence jumped up in her seat and moved her leg under her. "No way!"
"Yes, way," you sheepishly reply, embarrassed at the memory. You can still picture the way Pedro stood in your shared bedroom as you stepped out of your bathroom, jumping at the sight of him.
Standing with his arms crossed with his bags thrown by the door, he was determined to figure out what was going on with you.
"I wouldn't say we engaged in a heated argument, but it was surprisingly really emotional."
Andrew leaned his body closer, too interested not to let his questions slide. "Were you guys never emotional? I feel like every couple experiences those moments together- it's what makes them stronger."
It should've made you two stronger, but instead it made you weaker without you realizing it.
"Pedro and I had our minor instances, but it never involved problems we were facing," you began, sighing slightly. "All I remember was finding him standing near the bed with no emotion- none. I couldn't read what he may have been feeling, he just looked so....empty?"
"Empty? That's not good." Florence commented.
"That could mean a lot of things, not necessarily anger," Andrew added, trying to make you feel better.
"I knew deep down he was mad, as he should be- I was the one ignoring him," you defended him, taking full responsibility over your childish actions. "But I could tell he was more hurt that mad."
"What did he say?"
"What's going on?" Pedro questioned, his eyes not daring to leave yours as you freeze- stopping your attempts at brushing your wet hair, extremely confused as to why he was here.
He wasn't supposed to visit for another month, or so he said.
"Pedro?" you squint your eyes, still not sure if he was really in front of you or maybe you were daydreaming. You were high off many shots of espressos, it's finally hitting you. "Is that you?"
Still staring plainly at you, he stays right where he was. In any other circumstances he would have run up and wrapped his arms tightly around you, but this night was different.
He looked disorientated, out of place. His eyes lacked intensity as his body followed, looking as stiff as ever. Even his breathing matched his energy, calm yet unsettled.
You left him confused and he did not like that. "Answer my question."
Batting your eyes faster, you realize what was going on and where he was. Gasping, you do the exact opposite of what he wanted. "What the hell are you doing here?! You're not supposed to be home- you could get fired a-"
Taking a hold of your arms, he stills you and ignores your rambling. "What-" he begins, moving his right hand to the back of your neck and forcing you to focus on him only. "-is going on?"
Freezing, you try to back your head away from his grip but he tightens his grasp, making sure to not be too rough so he doesn't actually hurt you- he would never do such a thing. "I don't understand-"
"You haven't been answering my calls, what else is there to understand?" He sternly recalls, not wanting you to bullshit your way out of this. "So you either have been ignoring me on purpose to be petty or this is your way of hinting you don't want to be with me anymore."
Shaking your head frantically, you try to talk but he cuts you off again. "-And don't say you've been busy. You and I both know I would have figured out if you had added projects to your schedule- your mom tells me everything."
If this were a good time, you would have laughed at his side comment regarding your mother, but it wasn't.
"Not everything," you spit out, causing him to squint his face and release his hands from you.
"Are you trying to tell me something? Are you not happy? Is that why you've been avoiding my calls?" he questions, tilting his head in bewilderment, not liking your attitude at the moment. "Because if you really don't want to be with me you should've told me sooner than leaving me feeling fucking clueless while I'm out in another country working."
"I'm not saying I don't want to be with you-"
"But you aren't denying it," he intercepts, firmly nodding in realization. "I get it, I'm just glad I know now and won't have to wait another month to finally understand how you're feeling."
Walking away from you, Pedro walks towards his bags and reaches down for them. You scoff at his disturbed demeanor. There is no way you should be the only one at fault here- you both made mistakes.
Pushing his backpack off his hands, he watches at it lands on the floor before instantly finding your eyes. "Are you seri-"
"Just because I'm avoiding your calls doesn't mean I want to end our relationship" you shriek, glaring at him as his eyes soften at your hidden truth.
Your angered expression and stiff posture hits him like a brick, there was something really bothering you and he was too oblivious to acknowledged it until you began overlooking him.
Taking a deep breath, you watch as your boyfriend intently examines you as if he's trying to read your impractical mind. Sometimes, he wished you would speak up when something was bothering you, in fact- he has told you many times in the past to do so.
But the idea of patiently waiting until it erupts is what he's sure you've normalized in fear of desertion. Or maybe refusal of reality- the two of you weren't perfect.
"What's going on?" He calmly questions again, dropping any signs of fury and replaces it with worry and concern. Reaching out to you, he softly clasps your shoulder before moving in a few inches. "Am I making you upset?"
Slapping his hand away, you cross your arms over your chest in agitation. "I'm mad at you!"
Blinking a few times, he couldn't believe how fast you spilled and chaotic your energy was. He's never seen you act this hysterical and to be honest, he was really debating asking if you were on your period or not. "Why?"
Pursing your lips together, you release your arms and let them fall on your sides. "You know why!" With that, you turn your back to him and make your way back to your bathroom to hide.
At this point, you felt it was acceptable to act unbearable- he left you feeling insignificant and you weren't going to hold it in anymore.
If you stayed there any longer you knew you would break down into tears. Showing your vulnerable side this early into an argument was too easy, you have to show how bold you were in order to get your point across.
Or anger across.
But it was really hard to hold a grudge, he was just so- loving, despite your recent incidents. Deep down, he did care about you and wanted to validate your feelings- or as best he could.
Grabbing anything you could find near your sink, you begin opening some moisturizer and splatter it around your hands to keep you busy. You could feel Pedro come inside your shared bathroom but you don't dare to peep his way.
"Honey- please," you heard him release a soft sigh as he stood behind you, watching through your huge mirror in front of the two of you. He could make out your distressed appearance and you were absolutely not fine. "You can't just steer clear from this, we need to talk about it-"
Slamming the poor jar on the counter, you swiftly twist your body to his front and feel all the rage taking control. "But did you want to talk all those times I called you?! No, you didn't give one fuck about me or Leia!"
"You named your dog after Princess Leia? That's smart," Andrew butted in, grinning. "You know, since he's in the Mandalorian and Star W-"
"We get it."
Maybe it was wrong to bring your beloved corgi into such a serious topic, but she was abandoned by her father too.
"I did talk to you! I made sure to call you whenever I had time an-"
"I'm glad I made it into your schedule- but maybe if you considered adding some compassion and empathy it wouldn't feel like I'm just another business call you hate!"
Panting, you send daggers his way as his eyes widen. Did you just say he doesn't care about your calls? Impossible- he loves your calls, it makes his days better.
"You aren't a business call and you know that. Honey, please understand- hey!" He cuts himself off once you finally had enough of his poor attempts to defend himself, trying to flee but he ends up being quicker on his feet and yanking you back to his arms.
But once you were wrapped around him, even though it was for pure captivity and not warmth, you instantly broke down. He didn't know you were in tears until he felt his shirt become damp and still then he just thought you were trying to spit on him out of anger.
Hearing your tiny whimpers, he immediately glanced down and lifted you up to catch a clear view of your face, despite your protests and blockings. "Baby, I-I didn't mean to make you cry-"
"You don't mean a lot of things," you spit out, swatting his hands that dared to reach your face. You weren't in the mood to make up, all you wanted to do was sleep your troubles away, especially with the draining work day you had.
Continuing your pulling, Pedro began becoming annoyed with your strong protests against his affection. Isn't this what you wanted? "Why won't you let me hold you? I want to console you, can't I be your boyfriend for the night and tomorrow you can continue hating me?"
"You see my tears and now you want to hold me but admit we'll still be out of place tomorrow? That's acceptable for you?" you laugh ruthlessly, allowing space to be brought in front of you. "Do you hear yourself?"
Groaning, he rubs his face hard before speaking his mind, trying not to sound too furious and scare you. "What do you want me to do? I admit, I did lack some energy-"
"Some?" you snort to yourself, your face still wet.
"Don't interrupt me," he declared, shaking his head at how rude you were becoming. "I wasn't the best partner, okay?! There, I admit it, but you don't understand how it is working constantly and not being able to see family and friends and-"
"It's like you don't even know me at all," you ignorantly chuckle over his nonsense and walk towards your bed.
What a way to dismiss your feelings.
"That's not what I meant," he sighs, following after and stopping you from opening your covers and hiding underneath them. "It's just hard being away from everyone I love, I'm in a different country. It's not like I can drive an hour away and suddenly see them!"
"I can't do that either!"
"Can't you just please, please, please- consider that my mindset is not good right now," he declares, his eyes filling with sadness as his arms slowly find your waist. Taking a deep breath, you watch as he looked up at the ceiling before biting his lip. "I know I am not being the best partner right now- or for the past few months, but I am trying."
As soon as uncertainty flushed your face, his hands tightened as his expression deepened into an emotion you never seen him explore before- dejection.
"I can't promise you I'm suddenly going to wake up and give you 110% every interaction we have," he began, his voice lowering as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "But I confess- I am being a little shit and I am willing to work on that. Just please- please don't push me away. Try to understand my situation."
He wasn't wrong, his life switched around once he accepted the role of Joel Miller and you should've known from the start he would face some difficulties. Maybe you were being too self-centered and invalidated his feeling too, not just him.
Sometimes he wasn't good with words when expressing himself and made you feel as if you weren't as popular as him, but you knew it was never his intention to hurt you like that. He had a heart and loved to use it.
Fighting over work should never be a reason to be miserable especially when it's how you both get your income.
"I-I understand," you lightly speak up, watching as his eyes light up by the sound of your now calm voice filling his ears. "I just want you to know that it didn't make me feel good-"
"Of course it wouldn't make you feel good, I was being horrible," Pedro intercepted, pulling you into a tight hug and landing his face in your neck. "And if I wasn't thousands of miles away I would totally spoil you with kisses and chocolates as my sorry."
"Chocolates are still in favor," you joke and feel him softly swat your bottom in disapproval.
Pulling away, he leans his face closer to yours and plants a sweet kiss upon your lips before backing up an inch and whispering softly, "I love you, you know that right?"
Smiling, you slowly nod and surprise him with a deeper kiss before answering him back with a familiar, "I love you, too."
"You better," he smirks, pulling his body on top of yours, hearing your light squeaks once your back hit the mattress and his lips snuck their way into the crook of your neck.
"Did you end up getting chocolates?" Andrew immediately questioned once you finished your long recollection of memories.
"That's not important," Florence rolled her eyes.
"I mean he did promise her it."
Chuckling at his curiosity, it amused you how focused he was about some candy. "Yes, he did- for like a month and then I got over them."
"Understandable," Andrew replied, looking down at his lap.
Florence jumped over him, making herself sit closer to you as he winced at her sudden movements. "Then what happened?! I mean, there had to be more right?"
"My god woman, I hope you're not working for TMZ," Andrew joked.
She shushed him before leaning closer to you, signaling you to continue on with your memories. "After that fight, things became pretty normal again. We would call each other with far more energy than before and he would even fly back home often to keep our communication strong."
"And how long did that last?"
Frowning, you took a small breath. "Like three months- then we started fighting more."
"Over?"
Rubbing your face, you groaned. "He went back to lacking energy! But that's not even the worst part."
"Please don't tell me he cheated," Andrew begged, covering his eyes with his hands while pulling a sorrow look. "I would never be able to look at him the same."
"I don't know if he did cheat- but I did find out two months before we ended things that he stayed the night at his exes."
Loudly gasping, the company you had began freaking out with their jaws dropping- literally. Florence angrily furrowed her brows, "you've got to be kidding? How is that allowed in a relationship?- It's not!"
Crossing your legs, you shrug as a way to answer her. You really did wonder what was going through his head when he did that. Sadly, you couldn't believe a word he said after you found out what he did.
Maybe that's why you were fine with ending things- because the trust was slowly disappearing.
"Not to mention he would always be with her and ditch plans with me," you form a tight smile, trying not to make things awkward but it was too late.
Who could possible hear this and not feel embarrassed for you? Classic move on his part to follow the 'being friends with my ex is okay' stereotype, but it only left you feeling unwanted and flawed.
Were you not good enough to be in his arms all those times he ditched you for her? And why couldn't he tell you what was really going on- unless he was truly hiding something unspeakable.
"Spill the beans."
Hearing a door slam, you jump up in a daze. You could feel sleep still linger on your body as you crank your neck to the side, capturing the bright '12:47 pm' located on top of your nightstand.
Slowly yanking your body up, you don't stretch as you hurry out of your room to the living room in search of the mysterious person who was either your missing boyfriend or an intruder.
Catching sight of his bright yellow t-shirt as he opens the refrigerator, you could feel your body boil up. "Where have you been? You snuck out last night without even telling me- do you even understand how worried I was?!"
Watching as he gradually turns his head to face yours, Pedro closes the fridge before leaning against the kitchen counter- completely relaxed despite your current state.
"I was out with friends," he declared, grinning to try and take pressure off from you- it didn't work. "I'm sorry, I will tell you next time. I didn't mean to worry you, my love."
Placing your hands on your hips, it pains you that you secretly don't believe a word he's saying. Normally, if this were the case, he would text you if you were sleeping or call you in the morning to inform you with what he'd done.
He did neither one.
Maybe you should test him? Ask him questions and see if he'll freeze up?
"And who were you with?"
He smiled, grabbing a cup from the pantry while easily answering, "Diego and Oscar- we had a couple of drinks and Oscar thought it would be best I stay the night."
Nodding swiftly, you examine him to see if there were any signs of him lying- there weren't. Fuck, you forgot he was an actor. It's literally his job to control his emotions! "And why didn't you call or at least send a simple text?"
After hearing your words, Pedro sends you a small smile before gently placing his cup down. Walking up to you, he opens his arms. "Baby, is that why you're so upset? Because I didn't call?"
Before you could answer, he engulfs you in his arms before swaying you both around. Feeling vibrations as he let out light giggles, you instantly dropped any suspicions you may have had because he had to tell the truth- he would never lie to you.
It's surreal how easily you could throw any convictions out the window when he touched you. It's like he jogged your memory.
"Well, why didn't you at least text?"
Removing his head from your neck, he squeezes you waist and sends you an amused smirk . "Because I was insanely drunk and if I would've used my phone it probably would have resulted in me leaving you hundreds of drunk voicemails confessing my love for you."
"And that's bad?"
He chuckled, shaking his head before pinching your side. "No, but it sure as hell is annoying."
Standing up straighter, you cautiously nod at his answer and watch as he lovingly smiled down at you. "Okay, I believe you."
"Did you really believe him?" Andrew asked.
"I call bullshit," Florence confidently declares, strong on her view that Pedro was not an honest person.
"Let me finish the story!"
Loud footsteps could be heard near your hallway as you stood behind the oven, trying your best to not burn these damn chocolate chip cookies.
Such a basic recipe yet so complex- it was truly aggravating.
"Y/n? Where are you?!" you heard you assistant squeal from a distance.
Trying to properly put your mitten on, you murmur a small "kitchen" before preparing yourself to open the oven. The amount of times you burned yourself thinking it was cool enough not to wear protection-
Point is- always wear protection.
Opening the oven door, you pull the tray of freshly baked cookies towards you as the footsteps became clearly audible. Right when the cookies were in your grip and being lifted, you heard your assistant yelp-
"Pedro was caught leaving his ex's house two days ago."
Throwing yourself up into a standing position, you forget about the tray of cookies until you feel the burning sensation upon your left arm. You accidentally pulled the tray too close to you. "Ow!"
Instantly panicking, your assistant rushes to your side in support and grabs a towel to fill with ice. Pressing downwards on the wound, you wince at the pressure that was building.
"What the hell are you talking about?" you still question, extremely curious to uncover what this situation was.
His ex? That's absurd, he hasn't dated anyone in years when you first met. It's definitely not like he was in contact with them when you made it official, he was always firm when it came with communicating with past relationships.
That was a big no-no, especially when one of your ex's tried reaching out after your last movie dropped. Pedro made it very clear how unhappy he was when he made an appearance at your premiere- your boyfriend not daring to leave your side and even blocking your view whenever your ex had the chance to gawk you up close.
At the time, people thought Pedro only attended because he was close with the director and has always been friendly with other actors. Little did they know he was being extra friendly with you behind the curtains.
"Someone snapped photos of him outside of her door! It looks like he just woke up, too." Grabbing the phone from her hands, you pull it closer to your face and watch what the screen uncovered.
There he was, your boyfriend of two-years smiling brightly as he steps outside her door in the clothes he wore the night before. The same ones he manipulated you with about being with Diego and Oscar that night.
Not just that, but peering on the side of the door was indeed his tall, beautiful ex who definitely aged like fine wine. Hell, she was gorgeous and everybody knew that.
And the fact that they broke up due to their long distance, at the time, did not help this situation. Now that they lived a few cities away, what now? Were you just a doormat he could walk all over and eventually throw away whenever he wanted something new?
Placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, you refuse to take your eyes off the screen as your assistant begins speaking. "Did you know he slept over?" Glancing up, she takes your downcast face as an answer and swiftly pulls you in a tight hug. "Oh no, I'm so sorry."
You were sorry for yourself, too. How could he lie right to your face so easily knowing he was doing it- intentionally. And the most fucked up part was he probably knew you would believe him- just like all the other times you did.
"I saw that picture!" Andrew exclaimed, bewildered at his recollection. "I thought the paparazzi caught him lacking after a hook-up- damn, I wish I would've known you were together sooner."
"Same, I would have unfollowed him," Florence added. "And nobody would've known it was because of you- since you two never been public."
Forcing a smile, you give her a tiny nudge on the arm. "Gee, thanks for being so considerate."
"Continue!"
"Open the god damn door, y/n. You are being overdramatic- it was one night! Nothing happened!" Pedro yelled, pulling the car handle harshly as you searched through your bag that sat on your passenger seat- looking to see if you had everything you needed before your flee.
Let's just say, things were pretty...eventful once you discovered his scheme.
For starters, after bawling your eyes out on your poor assistant's shoulder, she made her departure in order to clean up the spare bedroom she offered you to take if you weren't comfortable staying at your own place.
You accepted.
Once she was out the door, you fled to your bedroom and grabbed any suitcase close by and began stuffing it to the brim, not caring how disorganized it was professing as you reached for more clothes.
You were almost done packing your second bag full of makeup and bathroom necessities when you heard your front door open. Jumping up, you felt your eyes widen once you heard your name being chanted on by your boyfriend. "Y/n?!"
"Fuck," you whispered to yourself, drastically glancing around your now messy bathroom to make changes to your plan- only take things you really need.
Seconds pass and you find yourself zipping your bag and rushing out the door, that was until your body roughly collided with another- causing you to drop your belongings and land on the floor. Groaning, you hesitantly rise, immediately finding your boyfriend's body nearing yours as he pleads to help you off the ground.
"Baby, I'm sorry! I didn't see you coming out," he apologizes, using his fingertips to clasp your forearms to level you. "Look, I need to tell y-"
"Get off of me," you grit, forcibly slapping his palms off you, causing him to cease and stare stunned. He has never seen you once be this aggressive. Sure, you would reject his embrace whenever you two fought here and there, but slap? Not ever.
Brushing roughly past him, you gripped your larger suitcase by its handles and made a beam to the closest exit. You couldn't be around him, not when thoughts of him being unfaithful constantly drowned your head.
A strong tug of your makeup bag made you halt your movements, not by choice, as Pedro made sure to tighten his grip to prevent you from leaving. Glancing down at his now white, clenched hands, you glare. "Let go."
Shaking his head, he stared you down- irritated that you would just pack up and leave so quickly without even hearing his side of the story. Yes, he should have told you what really happened that night- but he knew how you'd react.
It was better to keep it sealed until he was ready to unveil- or so he thought.
"You let go," he hissed, raising one of his hands and smacking yours with it. You hate how much stronger he still was while only using one hand while you had two- fuck his strength and your poor muscles.
Groaning, you dig your feet onto the ground harder as you continue your tug-a-war charade with your selfish boyfriend who didn't seem to believe space was an understandable coping mechanism after he shattered your small heart.
"Fine," you yelp, shoulders falling slightly as he eases his grip- still holding on though. "We both let go on 3."
Tilting his head, he suddenly grew suspicious by your random middle ground. He knew you well enough to know you don't give up that easily, especially when he's fully sure, by your bolting efforts, you saw the picture. "How do I know you won't just run off after?"
"You're faster and stronger than me, you'll catch me eventually."
Internally agreeing, he knew you had a point. Even if you did escape, your little legs weren't going to get you far- he knows from all the times he tackled you down after you countlessly would steal his food.
"1," you begin, eyeing him to see if he would follow.
"2," he stared at you back, cautiously watching your every step.
Taking a deep breath, you count again. "3!" With that, you release your grip from your bag and watch as he still clutches on to the strap. "What the hell- we agreed on 3 we'd both let go!"
Nervously chuckling, he placed the bag on the ground and sheepishly smiled at you. He was glad to see you finally calming down. "Sorry, I didn't think you would actually do it."
Sending him an annoyed glance, he scratches the back of his neck for assuming you wouldn't follow your word. "Trust me, I always tell the truth."
Wincing at your cold tone, he frowns by your hard demeanor. "About that- I was going to tell you-"
Softly placing a hand over your head, you release a sound of discomfort and miss the way his eyes wander in curiosity.
"Can we talk about this after I take my supplements? I am not feeling too good," you cut him off, slowly touching your forehead as you watch his concern grow. "I forgot to take them this morning."
"You know you get bad migraines when you don't take them," he declared, sighing as he raised his hand and began softly rubbing your temple in ease.
He believed you were being serene because you weren't livid and allowed him to stop you from leaving- how wrong he was.
"I know but I had a crammed morning-"
"This is why we need to hire someone to walk Leia, we don't have enough time majority of the week!" he exhales, making you stare at the floor for the point taken. But there was no way you'd hire someone to walk your dog, that's ridiculous and a waste of money. "We'll talk after, let me grab them- stay here."
Sadly nodding, you allow him to flee towards your bathroom in search for your medicine. Peering you head a few inches to the side, you wait till the coast is clear before slowly, but firmly, grabbing your once lost bag and dashing out of your bedroom.
"I almost forgot about Leia," you muttered to yourself, instantly feeling bad at the thought of how quick you were to forget your baby. How terrible of a mother were you.
And what even was more mind blowing was how Pedro didn't catch your innocent acting. Truthfully, he must be trying to be extra helpful so you would believe him. Too late.
Finding your white corgi near the kitchen, you whistle lowly for her to follow as you peddled your way to your garage. "C'mon doggie, if daddy notices our escape plan he won't let us leave that easil-"
"Y/n?!"
Jaw dropping, you shoot a glance of panic to your dog, who only blankly stares back, before rushing to your parked car. "Just like Batman and Robin- now jump in," you hushed, opening the back seat so you could not only throw your bags back there- but also your tiny-legged corgi who struggles at first, but eventually makes it in.
Once you jumped into your seat and turned on the car, you catch a breathless Pedro rushing out through the door to your side. "Fuck."
"You tricked me!"
"You slept with another woman, asshole!" you yell back, glaring as he rolled his eyes- outraged by how unreasonable you were becoming. All he wanted to do was sit you down and have a normal conversation about this, but instead you kept running away.
Once again, he thinks you need to work on your communication skills.
"You used your failing health to your advantage- how sick are you?" he yelped, offended.
"They were gummy supplements!"
Touching your car door, he sternly peers at you as you quickly lock your doors in case he tried opening it. "I did not sleep with another woman," he started, inhaling strongly before releasing it. "Why would I do that when I am in a committed relationship? Huh? Do you think I am capable of cheating?"
Shrugging innocently, you pull a sarcastic face. "Not sure, I do know you're capable of lying- maybe infidelity is the cherry on top?"
Mouth gapping, he sends you a look of hurt and for a second you feel terrible by your choice of words. In your heart, you wanted to take it back- but your head thought otherwise.
"I would never be unfaithful to you- that's not who I am," he firmly states, feeling like absolute shit that you would even accuse him of being with another woman when you were all he thought about every single second of the day.
Dryly chuckling, you nod along to his words. He feels his heart ache, as if hundreds of knives jabbed through the delicate muscle by your painful mien. Did you really think that lowly of him?
"That's who you are to me now."
Once those words flew out of your mouth and he was able to process it clearly, he paused. Whole body turning stiff and cold, he scolded you profoundly before fiercefully charging towards your car door and pounding for entrance.
It was like a nerve was touched and he was not willing to be forgiving anymore. You struck him hard and he knew you meant it out of pure anger- not genuinely, but his awareness soon became replaced with treachery and he so badly wanted you to pay for your foul words.
"Open the god damn door, y/n. You are being overdramatic- it was one night! Nothing happened!" Pedro yelled, pulling the car handle harshly as you searched through your bag that sat on your passenger seat- looking to see if you had everything you needed before fleeing.
Mentally checking off your items before departure, you inhale sharply before lowering down your car's mirror and pressing your garage remote- allowing the door to gradually rise and Pedro to panic.
Cursing in his head, he couldn't let you drive away or else he might never see you for days and he couldn't bear the thought of you moping around in agony without at least hearing from him- the man in the picture- what actually happened that night.
Pressing on the lever and angling down to reverse, you nervously press on the gas and allow your car to drift back as your poor dog watched through the backseat his dad embarrassingly urging you to not go.
You prayed the neighbors couldn't hear a thing, if the cops came you're sure you would never go out in public for at least six months.
Realizing that it was now or never, you see from the corner of your eye a figure running towards the back of your car before a loud thump was heard.
Shakily, pressing on the brakes and putting your car on park, you jump out in horror by the sight of legs near your back tires.
You hit him.
"Shit!" you gasped, involuntarily sprinting- as if your body just knew how to react- and dropping down to your boyfriend's lifeless body-
"You ran him over?!" Andrew and Florence shrieked, interrupting your storytelling, causing you to glare and shush them.
"Shut the fuck up- it's getting to the interesting part!"
Hugging his body tightly, you could feel your face began to fall down and your body slowly begin to tremble. In a matter of seconds, you just knew your garage wasn't going to be a pretty sight to see.
Hitching your breath, you run your hands to your boyfriend's chest and shake him softly in hopes he would open his eyes- he didn't. With tears flushing down your face, you sniff as you grip onto him harder. "Please w-wake up," you begin, trying your best to keep your touch on him but you were a jittering mess. Not being able to stay still, you press your ear over his chest to see his he still had a pulse.
Sighing in relief, he did.
Squeezing his face, you frown as his expressionless face stills. Realizing he might have passed out over a concussion, your lips begin to tremble as you finally breakdown in tears and cradle him.
Leaning over from his side, you bend your body and embrace his head into your neck. "I am such a-a fucking idiot," you squeak, your eyes shutting as you don't have the power to keep them open. "I-I love you- I should've just stayed and t-talked-!"
Cutting yourself off, you ironically feel like the lifeless one despite your literal unconscious boyfriend being in your arms at the moment. Bitch, you really had the nerve. Swiftly kissing his cheek, you plunge yourself into his neck and cushion him with your body- being as fragile as ever when handling him.
Quivering in misery, you keep a strong grip onto him before you felt pressure along your side. "It's been minutes and you still haven't called 911? I could've been dead by now."
Screaming, you instantly drop the figure once on top of you and force your thighs to back up, causing you to sit perplexed on the concrete floor.
Glancing back up, you find your boyfriend brightly grinning your way, using his arms to hold his upper portion up as you looked back in confusion. Didn't you hit him?
"I was my own stunt double for some scenes," he speaks up, smiling to himself proud as you continued staying still, confused as to what had just happened. "As long as you have the right mentality- you can take a pounding."
Registering where he was going with this, you scoff and quickly allow your feet to hit the ground. Following after you, Pedro jumps at your unpleased sight and watches as you cooly open your back door to let your dog jump out before marching towards the door to your house.
"Wait? Are you mad at me for that, too?" He calls out, tilting his head in question and proceeds to get his answer by the slamming of the door behind you. "Never mind."
Angrily storming through your hallway, you accidentally run into the wooden desk placed against the wall. "Ugh!" you scream, turning around and giving it one hard kick before making your way towards your destination- the kitchen.
"What did the desk ever do to you?" Pedro mumbled to himself, stopping right by it once you were out of sight and fixing it back up against the wall, making sure the books settled on top were nested properly before going after you.
"So that's why one of the legs is chipped? I noticed that-"
"Shut up, Andrew."
"Sorry, go on."
Finding you near the blacked marbled kitchen bar, Pedro ceased his movements. To be honest, he was nervous to confront you. Not only did you find out he slept at his ex girlfriend's house, but he made you believe he was dead.
This was not going to end well.
"How could you do this to me?" He hears you ask, you back being in his peripheral view as you leaned your body over the counter, hands gripping the ends roughly.
"Do what?" he idiotically responds back, mentally slapping himself for having the audacity to question something he surely knows.
Slowly turning around, capturing his soft yet worried eyes, he catches onto your tear ones and breaks down on the inside. "Tell me the truth." you gulp, averting your eyes to your feet as you sense him bobble his head. "Did you sleep with her?"
Choking on air, he frantically shakes his head in dismay, not believing you would actually think that despite the past half an hour of him comprehending that you might so. Maybe he just couldn't believe it would ever come out of your mouth- but this whole situation made him nauseous.
Steadily finding his balance, he inched towards your frail body as you kept your contact with the floor strong, not daring to move it even when the sight of his shoes play in your mind. "Honey," he lowly calls out, lifting his fingers to your chin and hastily bringing your vision to his own. "No- I did not sleep or engage in any sexual nor romantic activity with her."
"Then why did you go to her house and not tell me?!" you cried, nudging his hand off your face, him immediately aiming towards your waist to still have you near. "Why would you do this to me? Why would you sleep over when you know how I would feel?"
"I can't tell you," he confesses, whispering softly. Feeling your face fall, you erupt into tears again as you lift up your palms to hide behind them.
Hiccuping, your hands twitch as they support your weight and force you to fall on top of the counter and continue watering your tears there. Everything was unfair and he couldn't seem to realize how bad your fights have progressed throughout the months.
"If you really care about me," you whimper, still behind your hands as he rubs circles on your waist. "You would consider my feelings and understand why I should know what you did with her."
Sighing, he releases you waist and rubs his forehead in frustration. Pedro wasn't the type to hide things in relationships. In fact, he was amazing when it came to expressing feelings and being honest while you were the same- but you typically took longer to reveal your troubles than he did.
But no matter how loyal he was to you, it wasn't his place to share someone else's business no matter who the association may be.
"I know, baby. I know- believe me," he whispers, pulling you in for a hug and lifting you off the counter as your sobs were felt among his chest. It broke his heart. "But I can't betray her, she needed me and trusted me to see her. I can't just deceive her."
"But you can do that to me?" you reply, catching him off guard as he shuts his eyes tightly by how accurate you were being. "It's okay, I understand."
"No," he shakes his head, groaning before staring you down. "You don't understand, hell- I don't understand this either. But what I need you to know is I did not kiss, flirt, wink, tease, or touch her in any sexual way. We did not have sex - there was no removing of any clothing-"
"Then why did you sleepover?!"
"She needed me," he simply replies, causing you to laugh ridiculy.
"I needed you and you left me," you spit out harshly, not believing how he could defend himself and think you would ever fine with it.
Grunting, he runs his hand over his hair before pouring all of his stress onto you. "What do you want me to do? I told you what happened- she needed me, I helped her, it took longer than expected so I fell asleep on the couch- do you want to touch my knotted back for proof? Because you can!"
"Why am I the one being yelled at?" you respond, watching his face fall in disappointment.
Staying in your position for a minute or two, you continued examining him as he did the same, not knowing where this was headed. That was until he motioned with his hand for you to move closer.
"Come here."
Furrowing your brows, you pause at his words. Did he think hugging was going to solve all of your problems- because it wasn't. "No-"
Feeling his arms glide up along your upper body and finally wrapping around your shoulders, he pressed you up against his chest into the warmest bear hug you might have engaged in.
It was...peaceful.
Sighing, he felt your body soften by the touch. Relaxing, you closed your eyes as he made it his mission to not ease up on his grip. "I didn't do anything with her," he whispers, laying his face comfortably on your shoulder. "I promise, I love you."
Sadly, his confession made you break down more as tears flooded your face and your body fell upon his grip. Easily wrapping his palms on the back of your head, he cradled you tightly and never left your sight once the rest of that day and week.
And that's how that fight ended- with you trusting his sweet nothings and letting him take over your body with his hugs and kisses because he somehow made you believe him.
Every single time.
You wish you could have moved on from that topic that night as you allowed him to show you how much he loved you, but unfortunately that wasn't an option.
Especially when paparazzi exploited more pictures with him and his ex the following weeks later.
"And what about your last fight? You know- the one that ended things," Andrew started, making you halt. "What happened then?"
Quickly standing up, you brushed your sweatpants down before sending him a tight smile. Now that you talked about sad memories you hadn't really thought of in months, you knew the mention of your last fight would only break you.
You weren't ready to undergoing the same pain you felt that night.
"I didn't know these talks about my past would take a toll on me, but they have. I don't want to talk about it, but I appreciate the two of you checking up on me- I really do, but I think its time for me to take a shower and maybe nap- it's been a tiring day."
Feeling your discomfort, Florence and Andrew exchanged a weary glance before looking back up to you, hesitantly nodding. Probably an intense memory, they were determined not to mention it again unless you came forward.
"Alright- but give us a call if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or just plain old company!" Florence smiled, wrapping her arms around you for a quick hug before pulling back. "We can even have a sleepover."
"Count me out on that one," Andrew joked, bending down to give you the same hug. "But for real, you can cry on my shoulder any time."
"Thanks," you giggle, soon following them towards your front door as they say goodbye to your dog before departing in their own cars.
What an emotional day it has been.
-
"Do I really have to go? It's no use- I already seen the film. I don't want to rewatch it," you whine as your manager hushes you.
Walking down the side of the theatre, you clutch onto the oversized, black leather jacket you were wearing as your manager and assistant walked on either side of you, directing to to the entrance of a random theatre in the city.
Since the Oscars, nothing has really changed. It's been about three weeks now and there wasn't chaos anymore- it seemed like news about that night had already faded.
Regularly, you did chat with Florence, Shailene, and Andrew on the phone- individually at times throughout your past weeks- but nothing too crazy.
You all had your busy schedules and your manager was still being as hardworking as ever trying to exploit more of you to the press and on the screen. Safe to say, every time she had news it would always be something impressive.
Except for today, when she proudly announced after barging into your house during breakfast that there was a new film premiere you had to attend.
It's not like you opposed the idea- but you watched the film when the production team invited you to their private screening. It would be useless watching it again.
But as persistent as ever, your manager claimed there would be great press and directors attending the public's premiere, following with "an Oscar-nominated actress like you must make themself remembered."
As dramatic as always- but at least she was highly active in your career.
She did everything to make you get noticed, especially when you were at your lowest point mentally after your breakup.
Now onto past relationships, you hadn't heard any news regarding Pedro since you last saw him. Not that you wanted to, but for some reason he was still on your mind. Due to the fact you did sit with your friends ranting about your shared troubles, that's likely the reason.
But all jokes aside, you seriously can't stop thinking about him.
However, you were too scared to admit this to anyone. You tried telling Florence, but every time you mentioned his name she would immediately disregard him, pissed by how he treated you.
Which you loved that she had your back, but you needed someone else to have his own- oddly.
Maybe it was your head deep in thoughts that revealed how you were feeling, but your assistant seemed to notice that you weren't okay- mentally.
After checking in and finding a small crowd, you accepted that maybe most of the audience were in their seats already despite the film starting in almost an hour. Nudging you once your manager left to find one of the producers, you glanced at her as she motioned you to move towards the wall.
"What's up?"
She made a face, practically laughing at your question before continuing on. "Why don't you tell me 'what's up?' The whole ride here you've been silent and I know it's not because you were tired- you slept all afternoon, what's really up?"
Chuckling, you roll her eyes at how nosy she was being- but you knew she only wanted to help you. After working together for years, it was a ritual both of you performed: don't let the other be sad.
Surprisingly, it worked every time. She would hide you from people who upset you while you let her have more vacation days whenever she felt the same.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're thinking about him, huh."
Eyes widening, you shake your head quickly as she laughs at your poor attempt of denying her idea. But she knew right from the moment you got lost in your head that he was the one to blame.
"Don't worry, I won't tell," she whispered loudly, causing you to shove her as she laughed louder.
"Shut up, someone might hear you," you hiss, watching as she tried holding her breath to stop herself from cackling again. She just looked like a fish in need of water.
"Don't think about him then," she teased. "If it's making you lost in your thoughts! Wait- why is he in your head? I thought you hated him?"
Coughing, you shake your head. "I don't hate him- I could never."
"Never?" she raises a brow in shock. "I think we're seeing some progress here. You're falling back in loveeeee with him."
"No way," you scoffed as she grinned heavily. "I'm just thinking about the Oscars since that was the last work-related event I've been to since today and you know- he was there so he ended up in my mind...for a little."
She slowly nods, teasing a smug as makes it pretty clear she did not believe one word you said. Your assistant has seen everything, so she is quite familiar with your thoughts regarding Pedro.
She knows when your happily, sadly, angrily, and crazily daydreaming about him. In this case, she's stuck between happily and crazily- not seeming to find any hints of fury and sorrow through your expressions.
But definitely warmth and frustration- all due to him not being able to leave your head.
"When are you just going to admit you still love him?" She blurts out, causing you to snap your heard towards her. "Everybody sees it, you obviously have a soft spot for him if you let him be near you."
"Near me? He's never near me," you laugh. "And I never show signs I want him back, I don't. I made it clear for months now after perfectly avoiding him at all costs."
"Yeah, but he's still on your mind- that must mean something," she declares, causing your small grin to fall into a tight line.
That must mean something.
Did it?
Shaking that thought away, you reject her idea. "It means he traumatized me."
"It means you're in denial and scared to be with him again," she replied, placing her hands on her hips. "Look, I just know you two are meant to be. Next time you see him, talk to him. Tell him how much you care for him- even if you don't want to admit it in a lovey-dovey way. It can be friendly!"
Giving her a strange look, she lowers her energy quickly before looking around the room, making sure no one saw how enthuastic she became.
"You get the point!" she rolls her eyes. "Just be nice, maybe the both of you can form a friendship or just drift apart knowing there's no hard feelings."
"But there is hard feelings," you declared, pointing out the obvious.
There is a reason why you two broke up, like there is also a reason why you despise him. It all comes down to history and actions, which you've both experienced- which is why, again, you broke up.
"Just..." she started, thinking about it for a second before sending you a sincere glance. "-give it a shot. If you don't hate him, like you said, it wouldn't be terrible to be civil."
Slowly nodding, you understand where she's coming from. This tension between Pedro and you was getting old, and the fact it was only you adding fuel to the non-existent fire since you've broken up is sad.
Especially when all he's been around you was sweet and considerate of your feelings, leaving you alone when he felt your energy- except for that one night, but you have to admit that was your fault for riling him up.
The roughness of heels came marching your way, forcing the both of you to instantly lift your head- finding your manager striking a fake breaming grin with two men beside her. She was trying too hard.
"Girls! This is Greg and Shawn- the writers of the film!" she exclaimed, fluttering her lashes rapidly as both men awkwardly raised a hand, waving it.
Releasing a tiny chuckle, you do the same as your assistant walks closer, sticking out her hand to fully gain their attention and introduce herself.
What can you say- she was a charmer.
Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, your manager slightly pulls you closer to the strangers and strangely bobbles her head- preparing whatever gibberish was about to spit out of her talkative mouth.
"Y/n- the boys thought it would be a great idea to sit in the vip selection among other A-listers- isn't that just lovely? We are very grateful for your offer-"
Boys? Oh god- now she was bonding for her hopeful chances of getting a call for an audition.
Compelling a sweet smile, you feel the only possible response you could give them was a meaningless 'thank you so much' after she literally put you on blast to communicate more. The funniest part about this situation was- you already watched the film!
Clearly you never met these writers- but instead the director himself! Your manager should be satisfied enough with that.
"Would you look at the time,-" Greg- you believe, softly gasps while raising his arm to examine the tiny apple watch planted. "Guests are probably filling up in their seats by now, terribly sorry- but we should probably go."
"I hadn't realized how close we were to showtime- we certainly must continue off our conversation after the film is over!" Shawn proclaims, making your manager nod far too quickly. "I look forward to meeting again."
With that, the two men inclined their motions of farewells before taking off down a dimmed hall, likely finding the exact destination set to premiere their comedic film.
Sighing, you send daggers to your managers who barely blinks before coughing out a swift, "What?"
"You really couldn't wait till after the film was over to sweet talk them?"
Dramatically rolling her eyes at your annoyance, she waves you off by your sudden introversion. It was her job to throw her best compliments about you too them, and she knew you were still too young to understand that everything she did was for a cost.
You.
"C'mon grumpy, let's locate the theatre before you start whining that your feet hurt, too."
Feeling your mouth slightly drop from her remark, you hear your assistant cackle right beside you, using her right palm to hold in her giggles while you mentally prepared for what comeback to throw her way.
You got nothing.
Huffing, your legs followed hers as she guided the two of you towards the same hall the men approached minutes before. The closer you've walked, the larger the capacity gathered around.
For such a low-budget film, it sure did gain quite the crowd.
As the rolling of the ending credits flooded the screen once you sat the last two and a half hours trying to act as if you didn't know what was coming next, you wish you had it in you to say the second time made up for the first- but it didn't.
There we have it, tonight was just not your night and endlessly enough- you couldn't blame it on some silly excuse of watching the same film over again.
Not even your assistant's sneaky offerings of her red licorice lifted your blues- and that speaks enough volume to say the least.
"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" the whole-heartedly voice of your manager's voice filled your ears as the three of you sat in the same lobby as before, still not finding a way to escape a cold room.
Oh how you abominated the sharp hits of the air conditioning- it frankly made coming to the theaters a horror unless layers of clothing and a blanket was tagged along.
"Why can't we leave? The film is done and people are walking out."
"We still have to talk to Shawn and Greg!" your manager declared, presenting a look of pure determination to get her way with their levels of skill.
Groaning, you throw your head in absolute exhaustion. Fairly, if your manager hadn't had made such an early visit during the morning hours you're sure you would've been in a better mood.
It was like the more you interacted, the less energy you had to give.
In order to survive the next few hours, you needed your phone or who knows how your fake laughters will sound.
And you call yourself an actress.
Sliding your hand to the back of your pockets, you wait for the feel of your large iphone to surface- but that moment never comes. Swiftly, you check your leather jacket ones just in case you slipped it there without realizing.
You didn't.
Anxiously glancing towards your assistant, your trembling hands find her arm. "Have you seen my phone? It's not on me."
Examining your hands before meeting your eyes, she shrugs it off. "Relax, no need to have a nervous breakdown- I'm sure you left it in the car with your bag-"
"No, I had it on me during the previews."
"We did go to the bathroom, too- why not just go check those two places?" she suggests. Concerned filled you, hoping nobody was capable of actually stealing your phone- it would be such a hassle getting another one. "I'll check the bathroom, you check our seats."
Agreeing, the two of you sneakily escape your manager when her back was turned, unpleasantly speed walking down the familiar hall before parting ways to your needed locations.
Opening the thick, black doors and striding up the long runway, your eyes are met with the same darkened seating area you were in less than twenty minutes ago.
Then and there, you use this desertion in power- running towards the middle rows consider 'vip' and begin your inspection. Fuck, you wish your had some form of light to help- you couldn't see shit.
Sliding your fingers among the seat, you lift up the cushions in hopes it mysteriously pops up, but all you find is pieces of popcorn and gum glued down.
Gross.
Feeling your eyes begin to water, you were sure you were seconds away from crying like a little kid over the loss of your beloved possession before you heard a deep voice call out for your attention.
"Is this yours? I heard it ringing when I came back in and- uh," the person froze, not having the ability to finish off their sentence as you gradually lifted your body off the floor into their view.
Hopelessly praying the stranger was regarding your phone, your eyes search for their hands first and there it was- your phone!
The corners of your mouth lift up, as well as the creases around your eyes as you internally cheer for your discovery. However, it faltered once you noticed a familiar tattoo laying on one of their palms. Moving your eyes up, you're sure your smile completely disappears once you recognize those brown eyes.
How did you not catch onto his voice from down there?
"Uh- yeah- that's mine," you nervously reply, choking on your words that probably made you sound like you were about to lose consciousness by how strung you were, and hesitantly reach out for the device.
Pedro quietly lets you grab it, not saying one word as your hands collide for a split second before the object was back in your own. You didn't miss the name that appeared on the lit up screen when touched- your assistant must have tried calling you to see if the phone would ring in the bathroom.
Smart.
Avoiding awkward farewells, Pedro swiftly turns around and makes his way down the theatre stairs, not daring to continue on with the barely existing conversation you shared. He's leaving, that fast?
Thinking about all your past interactions, he would always try to chat with you- even when you did give him the coldest shoulder of all time- because that's who he was: kind.
But now he's...walking away?
"Hey- uhm," you begin, following clumsily after him, almost tripping on one of the steps as he reaches his final steps and doubtfully turns your way. Once you stood another step ahead of him, you feel that swirling feeling in your stomach again.
You were nervous- you've never felt this way around him during your breakup- never.
Adjusting your arms inside your jacket, a small smile is extracted out of you as you watch his stay flat. He did not look interested one bit and it frightened you to death. "Thanks for finding my phone- I-I was really scared there for a minute."
Not reacting to your little laugh at the end, he replied- dull. "I didn't know it was yours, I would have given it to guest services if so."
Ouch, you're sure you're hurt expression was recognizable on the outside as much as it pained you on the inside. He really did not want to talk to you, even when you're showing your appreciation.
He really was over you.
"I know," you squeak out, not missing the way his eyes tiredly scanned your own as his body stood there stiff as ever. "I just wanted to thank you, that's all- you saved me a lot of trouble."
Coldly laughing from that, he nods. "I'm sure I have."
Your body tingled with rage as he carelessly ignored your warmth and threw jabs in return. "What's with the attitude? I'm doing nothing wrong here- I'm trying to be friendly."
Inching up, his face presents a sullen one and you immediately feel intimated by the height he owned and used as his advantage. Just the first few seconds before he spoke alone made you feel his displeasure. "And what about all those times I was friendly? I received shit so forgive me for allowing you to experience the same treatment you give others."
Loss for words, you were speechless and didn't know what to say back. For one, you were alarmed by his hard demeanor he gifted to you. Second, humiliation soared throughout as he called out your imperfections.
In other words, he wanted you to know you were a bitch.
"And I take that back but-"
Pedro was about to burst out laughing in front of your face, but he held himself together in sake of your feelings. Can you believe that, despite the misery he still cared for your state of mind. "Taking back isn't apologizing."
Sneering, you cross your arms as his eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "Apologize for what? You were the one who fucked my life over."
Scoffing, he shakes his head in vexation by your lack of empathy- as always. "Countless of times we would contemplate our faults and how we could move on and now you're discounting your wrongdoings- typical."
Pedro did not want to have another unpleasant argument with you, especially in a public setting again, and decided it was best to just walk away. If he kept his mouth shut, he wouldn't make this altercation worse.
Meeting his broad back, you lightly gasp as he ignores you altogether and makes his leave far too early for your liking. Charging towards him, you feel his back solidify once your fingers yank him to a halt.
You were not done with this conversation, but you did know once you got home you were definitely going to regret how toxic you were radiating in the room.
"Typical? What do you mean by that?"
"Knock it off and let me walk away, y/n," Pedro warns, still facing his back towards you after blocking your attempts of moving him. "We both know how badly this will end."
You know, but for some reason you don't want him to leave. Was that so bad?
"No, I wanna hear exactly what you have to say about me- maybe it'll make me recognize the ignorant ego I have."
"You're talking out in anger, you're trying to cause a fire that I won't let you ignite," he simply replies, his eyes still not found by his hidden appearance.
Very poetic.
Scowling profoundly, you don't realize what you're doing until you're finally met with his provoked display after. Stalking around his body, you stand in front of him and jab a finger towards his chest. "You're preventing me from bettering myself, isn't that what you always wanted?"
Leaning down until his face with inches away from yours, you make out his hard features clearly now. His face expressed discomfort as his eyes creased while lifting- even his lips stayed hard as a rock. "I'm going to tell you one more time, let me go."
Ignoring his cold shoulder, he inhaled a sharp breath before taking matters into his own hands. You don't want to listen? Fine. But he wasn't going to let you drag him into this any further.
Right as you push another finger up against him, your wrist was taken and roughly pushed down by your side as Pedro's body practically belted against yours. "Get off me!"
"Not until you stop fucking around," he grunted, immediately widening his eyes in realization. He knows you don't like when he casually curses directly to you- even when he doesn't harm. "Sorry- I-I meant when you stop playing around."
Praying that a smile doesn't escape you, it made you feel some type of way capturing his manners and how even though you two were on rocky terms- he still had some respect for you.
"Why are we even fighting right now?" you sigh, slowly softening your muscles in forfeit.
"You tell me- it sounds like you want my attention," he casually replied, releasing your hands and stepping back an inch. "Considering you won't let me leave."
"I'm just trying to have a normal, polite conversation! Is that so wrong?"
Softly laughing, he shakes his head in disappointment. "You don't get it."
Scrunching your face, you become lost by his words. "Get what?"
Scanning the wall before meeting your eyes again, Pedro motions his hands between the two of you. "What do you think will come out of us having a conversation? Acquaintances? Maybe a friendship?"
Thinking about it for a second, you feel your head eventually nod as he squeezes his eyes shut in return. Was that not what he's been trying to do- end in good terms? "It's what's healthy for us."
"Us?!" Pedro groans, sending you a tired gaze that had you weak to the knees. "There is no 'us' anymore. You made that perfectly clear after causing a scene last month in front of your friends."
"I didn't plan on that happening a-"
"I'm even letting go the bigger scene you caused inside the after party- isn't that enough to understand why I feel this way?" he adds on, frustrated that you would think otherwise.
You were the one who caused the attention and brought a bad look on his name. He should be shouting at you like you would have done to him if the roles were reversed.
"I'm not saying we should get back together, all I want-"
"-is a friendship? Some sort of relation that won't make us strangers?" he interjects, causing you to stay silent. That was all he needed to understand what you really wanted: not to let him go. "Look, we had our history, but I don't think it's good we keep in contact anymore."
You swear you felt all air leave your body as your face felt cold. Was he breaking up with you- in life itself?
"I-uhm don't- I don't understand," you cough, scared to make a bigger fool out of yourself. You're sure you probably look like a ghost by how much color you've lost since his recent reveal and again- you were grateful this room was dim. "Why can't we at least be friends? Not even that- why can't we at least know we have each other in our lives? Why end up as strangers?"
"What do you mean? We hadn't talked to each other in almost a year till last month! We basically are strangers," he exclaimed, causing you to look down at your feet as your heart ached.
He wasn't wrong- you just hadn't realized he's been right. And to blame was you, not him. You pushed him away in the first place, he was only kind enough to oblige.
And it was surely pathetic how now you wanted him back in your life, even if it meant not even talking just to assure yourself he still had your back.
He didn't.
"Y/n..." he sadly muttered, trying his best not to hurt your feelings as you were still continued to stay downwards- not wanting to disclose more hurt. "You didn't even say happy birthday to me, how can you be considered a friend? Friends don't do that, not to me at least."
This caused you to glance back up to him, disagreeing immediately as to what he was trying to get at. Of course you knew it was his birthday, you celebrated two with him in the past! "I didn't want to make things weird-"
"You never do but still avoid me like the plague and breakdown whenever I'm too close to your liking. I'm sorry for trying to do what's best and leave us in the past,-" he explains, closing his eyes in discomfort, "-but I can't keep letting this go on. I'm too old to be going back and forth as if this is some high school relationship- it's not."
High school relationship- you never knew simple three words could have you shrinking in guilt.
"And I know things will be easier for you when the time comes- I won't be around to nag you," Pedro tries to lighten up the mood but you can't break the line upon your lips. You were emotionless and it made Pedro upset.
Why would he be upset? You finally deserved learning your lesson after treating him as if he was nothing to you. But despite all your flaws, he still cared for you.
He cares so much that he's willing to let you go so you can do better things in life- without him.
Trying to find the right words to say, you give up. There isn't much to discuss now that he wants nothing to do with you.
You fucked up- for real this time.
In fact, you shouldn't even be hurt- you wanted this. Or at least that's what you thought before last month when he wasn't on your mind 24/7.
Maybe it was the way he begged for your forgiveness after not seeing each other for so long that made you realize how badly you adored him nearby.
Maybe it was the attention he was giving you after you continuously rejected his pleads, furthering the argument until he stormed off in the end.
And maybe you should've took his concluding estrangement announcement seriously before he left you last month.
But just like they say, you never know what you have until it's gone.
"I see," you quietly respond, slowly nodding as a faint grin forms among Pedro's lips, appreciating your cooperation over this mess. "Maybe it is best if we stray away from each other- you can even delete my number."
"I already have," he accidentally blurts out, not realizing how bad that sounds until he hears it himself and cringes. Your sufferable reaction didn't make things better.
"You know what," you fake a laugh, trying to calm your voice as you feel it about to crack any second. The tears were heading your way- you just knew it. "Fuck you."
Pedro's face falls, taken back by your inappropriate language. "Excuse me?"
Noticing your rushed attitude, he wanted to stop you and tell you everything was alright. That everything was going to be easy and how the two of you would get passed this.
But he knew he'd be lying.
"You heard me, fuck you," you casually slip out, scoffing as his eyes darken. "For someone who's so kind to others, I would have thought you would know what words were right to say."
"You're one to talk, sweetheart," he chuckled, staring at you in repulse. "Every time you talk you always have to neglect someone else, I'm fucking glad I don't have to witness that ever again."
"Me too, my family was right- you are a joke who wasted my time."
With that, you make your leave to have the chance of having the last word. Maybe if you left this room faster he would forget about your comment. You knew it was harsh but you didn't know what else to say.
You wanted him to hurt- but to what extent?
Your arm was instantly tugged as Pedro pulled you back, not letting his grip go as his face was still filled with resentment. "And your team was right, you are a bitch."
Freezing, you stare at him in shock as his face doesn't fall once. What the hell is he talking about? "Get away from me or else-"
"Or else what? Weren't you the one physically blocking me from leaving minutes ago? What has changed?" he tries to smirk, manipulating you into believing how ruthless he could be when really he was dying to tell you the act he was pulling. "Cat got your tongue?"
Your face felt hot with rage as you yanked your arm off his hand, catching him by surprise as you glared at him. "I'm so glad I never took you back, you're fucking pathetic."
"And I'm insanely glad you didn’t, saved thousands returning that fucking ring."
Those twelve words made you halt and even made Pedro speechless. By the staggered look planted on his face, you could tell he didn't mean to say that.
Ring? As in, an engagement ring?
Weakly failing to stand straight, you felt your voice crack. "You were going to propose?"
Shaking his head, he swiftly backed away. "I need to go." Before you could stop him, he was already out of the theatre and probably near larger gatherings of people that would only prevent you from talking about this more.
Holding your face with your hands, you couldn't even cry. You didn't know what to do, you were utterly lost for words.
If he was really going to propose like he hinted at, what meaning did your last fight have? Nothing made sense and you don't know how you could move on from this now that he wanted you out of his life completely.
Hearing doors open, you instantly averted your gaze in hopes he had come back in and planned to properly finish what he started.
Instead, you manager came barging in while gripping onto your assistant's wrist harshly.
"Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere and to find out your stupid assistant-"
"Don't you dare disrespect her," you sternly cut her off, watching as her face falters by your sudden tone. "If you're here to pester us some more, feel free to walk home."
Laughing in shock, your manager tilts her head at your rudeness. "Excuse me? It wasn't my fault your assistant wondered off. After everything I have done to protect you and your career you feel the need to throw me out-"
"Did she hurt you?" you cut her off, focusing on your assistant who has gone quiet. You notice the redness on her small wrists before she slowly nods, looking down in fear your manager would try something else.
"You're fired," you simply state, pushing past your frantic ex- manager as you lightly guide your assistant out the door.
You ignore the rage your ex- manager unveils as you make it back to the lobby. Ignoring the waves random people sent your way in hopes of finding your destined car sooner so you could help your assistant with her injuries and be home already.
And in bed to think about what the fuck just happened tonight.
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