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nightdivinity · 7 months

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Drink Responsibly: Chapter 2

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!

Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, we die like men, reverse harem. This is getting sexual. I’m sorry.

Writer's Note: I live, I die, I live again. I’m trying to keep an even pace when publishing, I promise. It’s just that finals week knocked me on my ass. I’ve basically got to prepare week 9 and 10 before it. Graduation is also right around the corner. Besides school and work though, this has also been my only focus. Also, sorry to everyone who reached out. I promise I’m not ignoring the kind messages and everything. I just keep forgetting. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to do better. Also got to write a bio and start publishing the other things I’ve been cooking up. This series is still a top priority though. I’m going to be more consistent from here on out.

When you finally make it back to the manor after a day of detours and horrible karaoke that makes your insides warm and fuzzy, Duke doesn’t let you open your own door. All the being nice was making you itch, and you kind of were missing being a strong independent person. It’s also not that you didn’t give it the good old college try, desperately jiggling the handle to open the door that he child locked as you look out the window in disbelief as he laughed his ass off outside your door.

To get back at him, the both of you ensued the pettiest game of unlocking and locking the doors. You, holding the door closed when he unlocked it and tried to pull it open, and scrambling to the driver’s seat to keep that door closed as well. Would it be bad if you admitted you liked the way his smug pretty face grew determined and slightly irritated? Never mind the dimples, the tick in his sharp jaw had your mind skipping a beat.

It was all fun and games until Alfred, who undoubtedly was watching you from the window, opened the other door just as you held yours shut and taunted Duke. “Can’t even open a wittle omega’s door?”

You’ll never forget the feral boyish smile he gave before sliding over the moving van’s hood and gently pushing Alfred out of the way.

His big frame wedged the door open letting wind into the cabin with enough pheromones to make your eyes water. In a panic you start trying to move away from him as far as possible. Cue, Alfred opening the other door your back was against, and you almost tumbling out.

“(L/N)? Just what on earth are you doing?”, Alfred questioned.

You stare up at the old Beta and your savior. His gloved hand on your back keeping your from tumbling out of the truck cab and busting your head on the gravel. Something all three men on the property were undoubtedly worried about as they watched you dangle too close to the ground. Not that you ever saw the curtain drawing closed from the third story. All you saw was help. Because surely Duke would knock it off with Alfred here.

“I’m poking the bear”, you tell him.

A large mitt, exactly like a bear’s, wraps around your ankle and tugs you out of Alfred’s hands and towards the open car door with a slightly pissed alpha waiting. Oh no. New employment be damned, you are not going out like this.

You scramble for purchase as your dragged across the leather seat. Your fingers digging into the crevice between the driver’s side and middle cushion for dear life. Desperately you try to shake Duke’s fingers off your one good ankle.

“(Y/N), get out of the car. You’re probably hurting yourself right now while doing this”, Duke warns.

There was an unspoken “Are you stupid?” that hung in the air. With Alfred here, the big, dimpled grin has disappeared, giving way to grim determination as Duke looked as though he was five seconds away from peeling the truck’s metal frame apart just to get at you better. You didn’t know what to do, it was better when you two were playing. The air was lighter, and you could breathe and believe he had best intentions at heart. Now you couldn’t keep playing, because he seems to be getting angrier every defiant second you spend clinging to cushions. Which made you want to burrow under the seats even more, away, and safe from the anger.

What you hadn’t noticed was how his anger started the second Alfred intervened. It’s not your fault, a lot has been happening and pissed-off Alphas take priority. The old man did though, and backed the adequate amount of steps away after ensuring you would not tumble out of the cab. If it wasn’t for the promise he made to Bruce to chaperone, and to you when he hired you, Alfred would have taken up the offer the others had given him. A nice vacation, the first he would have taken, just to give you and the rest space to figure each other out. Based on the messages from the family’s missing members, it would have been smart to leave Gotham. Or the continent.

“Don’t tell me what to do” you say.

“Get out of the truck”, Duke replies.

“No. Fuck off. I’m grown up, I can get out if I want.”

“I’m seriously running out of patience (y/n)”

“Good. Leave me alone Duke.”

“Terrible things are about to happen to you.”, Duke warns.

You squint at him and stick your tongue out at him. You know he’s just full of shit and would never do anything to actually hurt you. Nor would he allow you to be in any real danger. He’s got a trick up his sleeve and the muscles in your stretched leg were taut, waiting for release so you can roll and limp away to safety.

There was hardly anytime for you to plan your next step before Duke wrapped his hand around your ankle and starts untying your sneaker.

“Don’t”, you squeal.

He ignores you and gives you another bright smile full of sunshine and mischief. Dear God, he was going to kill you with that look on his face. Totally disarming and distracting as you barely register the shoe and sock getting tugged off.

“I mean it Duke! I give up! Look, see? I’m letting go!”, you beg.

You unclench your fingers and start waving your hands in his face. Trying like hell to sit up and defend yourself. Unfortunately, the hood on your hoodie was caught on the seatbelt latch in the cushion. Preventing you rolling farther away or sitting up and smushing his face away with your freed hands.

“I will never forgive you”, you solemnly vow.

“Yes, you will, look at your face, you’re smiling. You’ve already forgiven me.”

“They stink, I haven’t changed my socks in five days.”

“That’s another lie, I know for a fact that your laundry has been washed.”

“And that’s weird. We’re going to revisit that later though. Let my foot go. I also haven’t taken a shower yet; I ran a five K this morning.”

“In what? Your dreams? You know, I think we should go back to begging.”

You give an enraged shriek that devolves into panicked laugh as he starts torturing every available space on your foot. It was not an enjoyable experience. You were scrambling and flailing to get away but couldn’t since he seemed to have super strength. He also barely swatted your thick cast covered foot you tried to jam in his face. Tears start leaking out the corners of your eyes as you giggle and beg and plead for him to release you. Not that he listened to any of it. He seemed perfectly happy watching you writhe.

The merriment came to about as abrupt and end as it started as a sleek black muscle car growled into the driveway. Duke dropped your ankle and crawled into the truck cab with you. As defective an Omega as you were, you still picked up on the spike of adrenaline and what you thought was panic although it was smothered by anger. You scrunch your nose at the onslaught of pheromones that made you want to bump up and rub against him and soothe in any way you could. Because no. You’re not that kind of Omega.

“Duke?”, you ask.

He must have picked up on the nervous twitching from you. Or the tell-tale patter of your little heart trying to produce enough pheromones to get you out of this situation. Enough to tell the Alpha that’s laying on top of you, tantalizingly close, so close you could hear the clack that the wooden beads in his dreads made as he pressed flush against you. I’m in danger, help me. Is what should have been leaking out of every pore. Yet, you were broken.

“Shh, don’t let him see you.”, Duke says.

That didn’t help the matter. Especially when Duke used his freakishly long limbs to pull both sets of doors closed as quietly as possible. What was happening? Was someone trying to attack Bruce Wayne, billionaire-philanthropist and notorious Alpha who also seems to be in close contact with the most frightening infected Alpha in the country. Merely the thought of the shadow you often saw cast on buildings as dominance battles were fought all over in the different Gotham territories was enough to make you shake. You never saw Batman. No one whoever truly interacts with him lives to tell the tales. So just what is Bruce Wayne that he seems to be in an alliance with such a monster?

“Bruce! Get out here you chicken-shit piss-poor excuse of a sire”, a booming voice shout outside.

A seismic level shockwave rocked through you, and you couldn’t suppress the litany of whines that escaped as you dug your claws into duke’s yellow and black muscle shirt. It was embarrassing, you felt like a pup again.

In all your years you had never come anywhere close to that amount of dominance that was coming out in waves that even rattled the windows. Whoever this was, he was bad news. Even Duke knew it.

Duke’s eyes were flashing gold in the sudden darkness of the cab. You were once again struck by the oddity, but this world is full of strange things. To be fair, you were mostly preoccupied with other things, and you had a feeling that if you started digging into what was going on at the place you were hired then you would truly fall down the rabbit hole.

“Stop moving”, Duke whispers.

His hand wraps around one of your wrists that you had thrown up against his chest. Just for a little breathing room, rather than being pressed face first in a scent gland that would have you dry humping everything in sight. Despite the abject terror at the situation unfolding outside.

“Where do you get off siccing Dick on me in the middle of a meeting?”, the man demands.

You didn’t hear the heavy manor door creaking open. So you had no idea just who this man was talking to. During the struggle with Duke earlier and the tickle fight, you didn’t see Alfred. You doubt the man stuck around during the shenanigans. Which begs the question. Just who was he talking to?

“Really? The silent treatment. You really are too scared to face me huh?”, the unknown man says.

Oh no. That sounded right outside your moving truck. No, nonononononono. You could feel the anger coming off him as it made your teeth chatter.

Your worst fear came true as the driver’s side door, above your head, was ripped open. No. It was ripped off the truck cab in a screech of metal that had you cringing and trying to burrow farther into Duke away from it. You were still stuck on the damn seatbelt thing that was jammed into the back of your neck. All you could do was look up and try not to burst into tears.

Because the man who just opened your door was death. You were teetering between pissing yourself from fear, and trying to control the inappropriate lust that was starting to ride you hard. Because damn. That voice, that dominance, paired with that attitude and face. My God, it’s like he was made perfectly for you. Or any Omega really. A fact that was cemented when the stern bluish-grey eyes that stare down at you flash a crimson red. Sploosh. You seriously needed to get your head checked.

“(Y/N)?”, mystery man says.

“How do you know my name?”

“Bruce told us he got you. Shit. I thought he was just pulling his usual shit”, he swears.

You were about to question who he was and what all was going on, but Duke beat you to it.

“(Y/N) this is Jason. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would ever come back home. Speaking of what are you doing here Jason?”, Duke says.

Jason straightens, his eyes flashing another dangerous candy apple red color that brought another bout of hot oozing warmth where it definitely didn’t need to be. Not that you needed to worry about it. Like you said, you were broken. Although you couldn’t help but wonder if being by lethal amounts of Alpha fueled testosterone would kick your damaged hardware into gear. Food for thought at a later time.

“I have just as much of a right to be here, if you checked your phone you would know what was going on. Bruce… interfered with a business interaction of mine when I refused to come back to the Manor.”

“So you decided to just go ahead and give him what he wants, really Jay?”

“No. I’m going to kill him. First though, get off of her.”

The callous way he mentioned killing your employer was chilling you to the bone. You bet he could do it to. From the heavily muscled frame that was subtly flexing, his old brown leather jacket creaking as it strained. He took to cracking his knuckles as he stared down at you both. Too make matters worse, there was a small scar that twisted the left side of his face in a permanent smirk as it ran up from the corner of his slips, across his high cheekbones, and disappeared above his ear and into that thick black hair. Hair that contained a curious white streak that made you want to take a closer look. Not that you would. You were smart. Everything about this man shouted danger.

While Duke was massive in his own right, Jason looked as though he could rip linebackers in half for funsies. You believe that those thick corded thighs that your eyes had zeroed in on, the ones that his frayed jeans were struggling to contain, those are rugby thighs. Once again, it’s not your fault, you were born to be this pervy to those of the Alpha secondary gender category. Just like Deltas were made for Betas. This is all evolution's fault that you wanted to climb a psycho killer like a tree and purr. Ooooh, maybe you could get Duke to wear a firema- nope. Annnnnd you’re done. You seriously need to focus if you’re going to somehow finesse your way out of this situation.

“What are you going to do? Make me?” Duke says.

You almost think he’s teasing Jason, then you hear the bite of a challenge to an invading Alpha. Dear God, it’s almost like you’re a kid on the playground again. This was so not fun nor was it sexy. Especially with you sitting so close to the crossfire.

“I said, get off.”, Jason start growling.

Oh good, now we’re slowly becoming dogs. This is great. Totally not borderline psychotic in any way.

“You didn’t want to come back, so you don’t get to have her. Back off Jay.”, Duke warns.

“No one here gets to judge me; you know the reason why the family is so broken is sitting up there. Plotting. If I had known- well- doesn’t matter. Get off before I rip you to pieces. I might till do it, send a fun little message to our psycho father by spreading his precious new pet’s blood all over the front steps.”

“Isn’t that what Dick said to you when you met?”

“Say his name again and I will make good on my promise.”

“Can I just say one thing?”, you ask.

The tension was getting so thick you could cut it with a cheap plastic spork. Honestly, you suspect they could’ve just kept going all night if they had to with the witty one-liners. You were getting tired though, and all this negativity was not good for your heart.

“Hon, not right now, I’m winning.”, Duke tries to shush you.

First of all, how dare he shush you. You had just as much of a right to talk as they did. Duke is different from most Alpha’s you’ve met. The silent prejudice was still hanging in that back of your mind though. Omegas are useless without Alphas. So be a good little one and sit there and be pretty. Don’t ever think of talking. You know he’s not like all the other assholes you’ve encountered. What he just said though started ringing those little alarms that told you he might be though.

“No, you’re not.”, you pause and notice the slight smirk across Jason’s scarred face, “Neither of you are. Can I please get up and get my boxes in while you two have your pissing match?”

Jason lets out a surprised bark, and you give him brownie points for keeping his mouth shut besides that.

“I’ll let you up, once he goes inside.”, Duke tells you.

“No. I want to get up now.”, you say.

Duke’s next response gets cut off as you watch Jason reach over you and grab Duke’s dreads. There was a slight struggle, but the comforting weight of Duke’s body between your thighs is gone within seconds. You almost miss it. You almost feel bad when you finally wrench your hoodie free and look out the truck door and see Duke on the ground with Jason’s hand around his throat. It was ok. You can tell no real weight was being put behind it. It was just one Alpha gently reminding a younger one to submit. You’ve seen this shit all the time.

You also weren’t going to lie; the dominance was definitely starting to rev your engines.

“Please don’t kill him, I need his help with the boxes and my wheelchair”, you call out.

Jason turns to look at you, the red in his eyes damning as he stares into you. Oooh. You can have a lot of fun with that. Maybe you can ask him to pretend to be your sleep paralysis demon that has his wicked way with yo- nope. No roleplaying. No playing with these Alphas in any sexual manner. You need money and a place to stay, and while sex is nice, everyone always moves on to more compelling Omegas that aren’t broken. Besides, you’re pretty sure these Alphas don’t know their strength. Nope, you’re good without all the heartbreak and hospital visits if you go down that route.

“Boxes?”, Jay asks.

“Yeah, I’m moving in, didn’t anyone tell you?”, you ask him.

“No. They just told me- nothing. I’ll help, you don’t need shit-for-brains”, Jay says.

He gets up, slightly pushing Duke’s face to the side and into the muddy wet gravel. You can’t help but wince and give Duke a sympathetic look. Not that he was paying you any mind. His lovely brown eyes were now a liquid gold that screamed revenge. You just pray that he can hold off long enough to get your wheelchair from the back.

“What- what happened to her?”, Jay asks.

“Motherfu- get my chair”, you boss.

“She got chewed on at one of Cobblepot’s clubs”, Duke tells him.

“Shit, none of the others know huh.”, Jason sighs.

He runs his hands through his hair, and you’re stuck looking at it again. It looked fluffy and silky. Of course, it would put you in a trance, the same as the wood beads in Duke’s dreads. You might actually have a thing for hair now that you thought about it.

“No, we’ll have a war when they do.”, Duke replies cheerfully.

“Why?”, you ask. You were genuinely confused as they kept talking circles around you.

“Don’t worry about it Hon. Let’s get you inside”, Duke groans as he gets up from the dirt.

Jason reaches in and lightly grabs your good wrist as he pulls you out. You willingly let him, marveling at that the body made from the gods. Would it be bad if you reached around and gently pinched his ass? It’s just curiosity. So much muscle, how much fat?

Duke looks slightly peeved when he grabs the chair from the back and notices you in Jason’s arms. You couldn’t help but give him a slight smug wave from the safety of King Kong’s arms.

“I like the bell, maybe we should find some streamers for the back too. There’s no way she’ll get lost.”

And just like that, you lost it as Giant 1 and 2 dissolved in a fit of giggles. I’m going to kill them. Hopefully before your hormones and pheromones killed you first. Because damn it, you did seize the opportunity to smack the ass of the jack ass.

That ass is not only iconic and slightly hard, but it jiggled a little too. This is going to be so much fun living here.

#abo batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yeaaaaaaah it's getting yandere #vamp!batfam #chapter 3 is written #I just need to make the bio and post headcannons first #hopefully before spring semester starts #also been playing arkham knights #been a big inspiration to me a little with this story

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ergman777 · 3 months

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did john look for arthur?

What are yall's thoughts/headcannons on what John did after he left Arthur on that hill? How long do you think it took him to go back and look for Arthur, if he ever looked at all? Because at the time ofc his focus was to escape while protecting Abigail and Jack, and I'm assuming the area would be swarming with agents for awhile after, making it hard for him to look (cause hes not sneaky like charles).

But I like to think that even though he knew Arthur was sick and probably wouldn't make it, he still hoped his brother was able to slip away like he always had. That maybe Arthur giving him his hat and satchel wasn't a final goodbye, but a promise to come back and retrieve them later. I also like to think that he'd risk going into town and getting the newspaper to see if there was any word, or use Arthur's old binoculars to spy on the sheriff's "wanted" poster board from afar, to make sure his bounty wasn't taken down.

I imagine he held onto hope for a little while like this, maybe a few weeks, few months, maybe even the whole first year of Arthur being gone. Even if that hope was only an excuse not to mourn, or face the realization of his brother's death.

Maybe he made sure no one touched the things in Arthur's satchel for awhile, figuring it'd be rude to riffle through his things if he ever came back.

but he never did

Idk I feel like we never realize it bc our minds are usually elsewhere when chapter 6 ends (just like FULL ON sobbing) but 8 years is a MASSIVE canonical gap between John seeing Arthur for the last time and Charles confirming he indeed buried him- 8 YEARS FOR THIS KIND OF ANGST BABE

(also forgive the sketchiness, I did this on a trackpad bc I left my drawing tablet back in the states T-T)

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanart #arthur morgan #john marston #sad cowboys #arthur morgan fanart #john marston fanart #rdr2 headcanons #red dead redemption 2 headcanons #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfic

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meanbossart · 2 months

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Hi! Feel free to ignore this, but I was wondering about your journey on writing your fic? Like, did you planned it before writing? Or you went figuring things out as you wrote?

Your writing has inspired me to craft my own fic but I seem to be stuck in the planning stage 😅 so I was wondering about your process in between planning your story and actually writing it

Also I love your realistic depictions of characters and your art

Initially, I wrote the first chapter as a one shot. This was way before we got the epilogue update and I really wanted a more tangible conclusion this little story I had concocted throughout the game - an epilogue of my own, basically!

Then I just decided that I wanted to write more. Writing has never been my forte and I really felt like finally exercising that muscle. The first few chapters are incredibly rough and that's because I was doing just that - trying to figure out what worked for me stylistically and exploring these characters without the pressure of having to take it somewhere yet. Alas - the brain does as the brain does, and by the time I was writing chapter 3 or 4 I had already figured out the main storybeats and ending, and a few chapters later I had filled in all of the gaps in a whooping 15 page long outline in google doc 🙄

if you don't believe me, all you have to do is go all the way back to chapter 4 where I hint at the existence of Grodderick and Nathanya - characters that only ever show up in chapter 17.

This has come with some downsides. It frustrates me to no end that the fox subplot has been slowed WAAAYYYYYYYYYY down only because I couldn't predict just how long everything in-between would take to flesh out, for example. Overall I feel like my writing still may be a little convoluted and like "simple" scenes take a tad too long - as a visual artist I can't resist but constantly describe mannerisms and facial intricacies - but hey, this is what I'm doing this for, to have fun and figure these things out as I go, and I feel like I have improved absolute heaps.

So, I didn't go in with a plan at all but I kind of ended up with one pretty early on anyways. I'm not sure how helpful that is, since there are all kinds of writers out there and you should absolutely do whatever works best for you - however, more importantly than that, you should do whatever keeps you writing regularly.

Also, of course, do not even for a moment fool yourself into thinking you can write a perfect story that you're going to be proud of for many years to come. By the time you write chapter 20, you will probably hate chapter 2. But who cares! You wrote 20 chapters of a thing and that's neat as hell.

#ask #a novel experience

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animasolaoriginal · 2 months

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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️FOUR

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE FOUR FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN

He's given her a gift, but she's too ungrateful to fully cherish it. Time for him to teach her a lesson that will get her back on track, back onto the road to submission.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Anal sex. Creampies. Spanking. Praise kink. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.9k

THREE 🟥 FOUR 🟥 FIVE

She's confused, and that's putting it mildly. Her head is racing, various thoughts tumbling over each other, blending together, nothing makes sense anymore.

She sees herself in the club, dancing to the music, enjoying her life, her eyes moving towards the bar, to him. And then she approaches him. And he takes her away, she wakes up in his bedroom. To fulfill a common desire? Or so she thought. She wanted to be one of the girls he's always hooking up with, she wanted this. Right? Wanted his attention, told him she wanted his cock in her cunt (his words, not hers). She wanted him to take her virginity. Because why not.

But she didn't want to be used like this, forced to wear a butt plug, forced to masturbate on her own, forced to suck him off? But she wants to please him, wants to be called a good girl, needs his praise more than she needs oxygen, apparently. But all the things in between? Having her pussy assaulted by a vibrating toy, pushed to the edge only to be abandoned right in front of it? Being choked on his cock and having her ass filled with his cum, plugged up to keep it there?

She doesn't want that. But it's part of the deal, isn't it? Strange deal, though. Doesn't feel like a deal. Feels like... he's just using her. Keeping her here for his own entertainment. She has panicked when she's realized that (long before all the other stuff that made it even more obvious), hiding in his closet, her mind as clear as ever. Too clear for her liking. She doesn't like the doubts, the fear, the uncertainty. And she doesn't like to worry, to second-guess herself. She's wanted this, right? Wants him?

She has to focus on that, on the handsome man, on his wealth, all the opportunities he could give her, the experiences, sensations. He's a catch, and she'd be stupid to fight this. Right? And as long as he wants her too, everything is just fine. She has to keep it that way. Because she knows he's holding himself back, she's felt the shudders, the restraint in his grip. He's already been rough with her, but not to the point of pain, just discomfort because it's all new to her.

And she knows he could treat her very differently if he wanted to. He's strong, so much taller and bigger than her, older too, knows stuff, moves her like a doll, as if she wasn't a person, just a body. A body to use, to fill up, to mold into whatever he wants her to be. Which is what? She doesn't know. Doesn't want to think about it.

Exhaling loudly, she shifts on her side, feels the slight ache in her throat, the taste of him on her tongue, that strange warm feeling inside her, held in place by the plug, that awful hard thing, something foreign, that doesn't belong there, that she wants to get out. And the more she focuses on it, the stronger the urge grows to just pull it out. She's tried before, in the closet, but it wouldn't budge, and she was afraid to hurt herself. He's made it look (and feel) so easy when he's pulled it out to shove his cockhead into her (which has also been something she didn't think was possible but he's just done it, made it fit).

Just pull. Can't be that hard, eh?

Listening to the noises on the other side of the door (he's walking around, his voice echoes through the room, she can't tell what he's saying, but he's probably ordering food like he told her), she shivers, visibly shaking as she makes up her mind and slips from the bed, blanket trailing behind her before she loses it in front of the bathroom. Just pull.

Breathing heavily, she stands in front of the large mirror and looks at herself. Her eyes are still reddened and swollen, lashes clumped, cheeks splotched with red spots, lips raw and trembling, hair messy. A horrible sight that almost makes her cry all over again. She twists and turns slightly, tries to see her backside, her hand moving between her cheeks, shaking badly, fingers brushing against the knob. It's shimmery, like a jewel sticking out of her butt. A strange sight, an even stranger feeling.

She pulls on it, carefully, feels her muscles gripping it as if they don't want to part from it. Clenching her teeth, she pulls harder, feels it giving way, and it's a strange release when it plops out, a tension gone, only to be replaced by another sensation, something dripping out of her, and she can't stop it, can't hold it in, it just seeps out, with every involuntary clench of her muscles. She drops the plug in her panic, it clatters loudly onto the tiles, her hand between her cheeks, something warm and sticky coating her fingers. She's both disgusted and horrified.

Looking around, she stumbles to the toilet and rips off some toilet paper, wiping at it, feeling mortified and ashamed as she feels it running down her leg. A whimper escapes her because it keeps coming. Because he kept coming.

In her panic, she rips down her panties and unclasps her bra, then steps into the shower and turns it on, eager to wash away her shame. The water sprays around her, and she is so focused on seeing the thick creamy stuff flow down the drain that she doesn't hear the door being opened, doesn't hear the footsteps coming closer, only notices the shadow looming behind the steamed-up glass door when it is too late.

“What are you doing?” his voice rings over the loud spray of water.

She gasps, freezes, looks up at him with wide eyes, a primal fear settling in the pit of her stomach. “I... I...” she stammers, backing up until her rear meets the wet tiles behind her, her hands moving up to cover her breasts.

He looks angry, eyebrows furrowed, eyes darker than before, his hand curling tightly around the door he's holding open. “Speak up,” he orders.

“I... I felt... dirty...” she admits, biting her lip.

His eyes narrow, the muscle in his jaw twitches. She feels particularly small and vulnerable under his scrutinizing gaze, prey backed into the corner by the predator staring down at her. He keeps looking at her as he slowly unbuttons his shirt, shrugs it off his shoulders, toes off his shoes and socks, then unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants and underwear down. He's so quick in undressing she barely has time to really look at him, to process what is happening.

And suddenly he's in the shower with her, that hulking form next to her, broad shoulders, long legs, strong thighs, toned chest, bulging muscles and tight skin. His cock angrily bobbing against his lower stomach. He grabs her arms and pulls her towards him. She almost slips, falls against his hard torso. His hand is on her waist when he spins her around, presses her front to the tiled wall. She shivers, unable to do anything but let it happen, whatever it is.

She's too shocked, feels bad, guilty, shameful. He's put his seed into her, and she's gotten rid of it the first chance she had. That is a reason to be angry, right? She leans her cheek against the wall, hands flat on either side of her shoulders, breathing frantically through her nose when he glides his hands over her curves, cups her rear, kneads her flesh, pulls her cheeks apart. His fingers dip between them, and she flinches when he pokes at her tight hole, teases it.

“Dirty, huh?” he whispers, leaning closer, his breath hot on her ear. She only whimpers quietly. “Let's clean you up then...” he adds menacingly, and she yelps when he pushes his finger into her ass, pumping it in and out without even acknowledging her distressed noises. It hurts, her muscles are too tense, he's not very gentle either. Then he adds another finger, stretching her more, pushing deep, in and out, to his knuckles, forcing his way into her.

It's not helping that she tenses up even more under his assault. Her noises are swallowed by the rush of the water, but the squelching sound of his fingers slipping in and out of her is loud enough for her to want to die in shame. It feels wrong. Uncomfortable. Like punishment. And she deserves it... doesn't she?

He switches his fingers, that tiny moment of reprieve not enough to calm her. The fingers are back, from his other hand, while he grabs the shower head off the wall. She squirms slightly, her legs trembling, as she watches him out of the corner of her eye. He scissors his fingers, stretching her tight hole, forcing the muscles apart. A pained whine escapes her, but he holds his digits like that, holding her open, and then he puts the hard stream of water to it.

She cries out, writhes against him, her knees buckling when she feels it filling her up. “No, please!” she whimpers, but he doesn't stop, only moves the powerful jet back and forth in a sickening rhythm.

“You wanted to be clean, didn't you?” he hisses, hooking his leg around hers to keep her upright as she threatens to slip.

Eventually, with her mind reeling and her body shuddering, he pulls his fingers out and puts the shower head away again, and she pants, feeling the water flow out of her, a worse sensation than when his cum dripped from her. It feels wrong. It all feels wrong. This is not what she wanted. Tears sting in her eyes, the hot air making her feel even more lightheaded. Sniffling pathetically, she leans against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, heart thundering inside her chest.

But it's not over. His hands are on her waist, long fingers curved around her body, holding her as he steps behind her. He pulls her up a little, so she's on her toes, and it makes her focus on not losing her balance instead of the other things happening behind her. Like his cock pressing between her cheeks. He grinds against her, moves his pelvis up and down, a warm and strong force towering over her.

“You know,” he says suddenly, leaning closer, his breath fanning over her cheek. “I didn't want this, not yet. I thought you weren't ready. But you leave me no choice, you know that, right?”

She frowns, eyelids fluttering open as she tries to look at him. Whatever confusion clouded her mind is gone the moment she feels him lining his cock up with her clenching hole. He doesn't take it slow either, just pushes and pushes until she feels him slipping in, her muscles a little bit more lenient, but not enough. He's too big, stretching her more than his fingers.

And he keeps going, fills her more than just the tip, pushes and prods, forces his way deeper into her ass while she wails and whines loudly, clawing at the tiled wall, legs shaking badly beneath her. The stretch, the tension, the friction, it's all too much. Water squelches out when he rolls his hips against her, deeper, deeper, and she feels so full, a strange sensation she's never felt before.

Her muscles work around him, tensing, clenching, trying to counteract the intrusion, but he doesn't care until he bottoms out, his thighs pressing against the back of hers, balls pushed against her folds, all of him inside her tiny body.

She feels sick, can barely breathe, only whimper helplessly, her head spinning. His fingers dig into her hips, knead her soft flesh, holding her against him with a firm, almost painful grip, even pushing her up the wall a little until her feet are off the ground, breasts squished into the tiles, her hands uselessly clawing at the grooves. He actually lets her adjust to the new experience, to him filling her out so much. His cock in her ass. She can't wrap her head around it. Wrong, wrong, wrong! her mind chants while her stomach tenses up more with each rapid heartbeat.

It's the same pace he sets when he eventually leans back, his hands slipping lower to hook under her shins, pulling her up, as he slips back and forth, in and out, scraping over tense muscles, a strange burning growing within her. A moan escapes her and another, the sensation slowly turning from a low throbbing pain to heavily thumping pleasure, the more he moves, the better it feels – and it shouldn't, right? It shouldn't feel good when he takes her like this. But it does, and the conflict pulses through her clouded mind like little electric shocks.

He holds her up, bounces her against him, pushes deep and pulls back out, fast and hard, skin slapping against skin, wet squelching noises overpowering everything. She whimpers with every deep thrust, clinging to the wall, completely at his mercy, a frail little body held up and used, pummeled and filled. He's grunting behind her, muscles tensing against her, his thighs strained, hands tight around her legs, bruising her soft skin.

There's cotton in her head, something thick and filling, letting no coherent thought through. An almost freeing sensation. There's only that feeling of his cock slipping in and out of her ass, hard thrusts, a deep pounding, fast snaps of his hips. It's overwhelming. She's limp in his hold, gasping soundlessly, unable to do anything but take it.

He groans loudly into her ear as he leans against her, hammering his pelvis into her rear, faster, deeper, harder, desperate almost. His hands slip from under her shins, and she sinks down the wall, away from him, unsupported now, the tension is gone for a moment, her muscles clenching lazily, searching for that intruder that has felt so treacherously good. He grips her waist and pushes her onto her hands and knees, one arm around her stomach as he slips back in, easier than before, and continues pounding into her.

There's one change though, in addition to the lowered position: his fingers rub along her folds, ghosting her neglected pussy, then push against her clit, tease it, pinch it, making her whine out in a sudden onslaught of sensations. She feels her knees and arms shaking, but he holds her up, and she leans into it, trusts him to hold her, as she squirms, leaning down to rest on her elbows. The cotton inside her head catches fire, and a strange heat fills her body, her stomach tenses up, muscles contracting, thighs twitching uncontrollably.

He keeps assaulting her clit as he keeps slamming into her ass, rutting her like a feral dog from behind, bent over her, strong legs caging her in. And suddenly it all explodes, she freezes before she cries out, a wail of pleasure tumbling out of her throat as her body starts spasming beneath him, and he grunts, holding her closer as he pushes deep into her and stops, her muscles tight around him, a bright light engulfing her, making the edges of her vision fuzzy, the whole world seems fuzzy, his noises are muffled, that feeling of his throbbing cock a faint little thing (despite him not being little at all) as he fills her with his cum, warm and thick and so much she feels even fuller, if she would still be able to feel anything.

It's not nothing that she feels, it is all at once, a tidal wave of pleasure that numbs everything else. A moment like floating, suspended mid-air, free, easy, light. No worries. Just bliss.

She sinks into herself, a limp body held up by strong arms, impaled by a twitching cock that slowly slips from her warm depths. He's breathing heavily into her ear as he pulls her to her feet, and she still feels like it's not her body that he manhandles out of the shower and leans against the vanity. His hand glides up her inner thigh, smearing something warm and sticky, then his finger pushes into her gaping hole, her muscles too loose to resume their original form just yet. She feels him circling the ring, teasing it, and she wants to clench it but can't, a strange feeling among the vertigo that holds her hostage.

A sudden slap echoes through the steam filled room, and she yelps when she realizes it was his hand on her ass cheek. He spanks her again, again, and another time, and she writhes, squirms, cries out and sobs under the unexpected pain that pulls her out of her bliss with a violence she finds cruel. Bent over the vanity, she can only take it, legs trembling, tears flowing freely over her hot cheeks. One more clap, and he suddenly leans down, picks up something that makes a clanging sound on the tiles.

She feels his arm next to her, water running, her blurry eyes can't focus but it looks as if he cleans something under the faucet. Then something cold and wet and hard slips between her burning ass cheeks. A gasp escapes her as he nudges the plug back into her ass, her muscles tensing around it, holding it tightly. She whines pathetically. Back to square one.

After he's dried her and himself off, he's put her in a new set of underwear, pink panties with baby blue flowers on them, more fabric than the thong, no bra, but a loose T-shirt that smells like him, and she feels herself being wrapped up by his scent and warmth and strength as he carries her out to the living room, gently setting her down on the couch.

Her butt feels tense, a strange ache she's never felt before, both inside and out, so she rolls onto her side, curling up. He nudges her legs when he sits down next to her, back in his fancy suit, and somehow she ends up in his lap, between his strong legs, seeking his warmth, head resting on his thigh, a little ball melting against him. He caresses her damp hair, a soft and unexpected touch after what just happened in the shower.

She deserved that, huh? How he treated her? After what she's done? That's why he pumped his cum back into her ass. Take what he gives you, she thinks, swallowing hard, a little gulp against his leg. Ungrateful, isn't she?

“Are you hungry?” he cuts through the conflicting thoughts in her head, and she looks up from under her lashes, seeing him look down at her, his face eerily calm.

Not really, she wants to say, her body still feeling a different kind of fullness that seemingly bulges her belly, at least it feels like it. Or maybe it is hunger that sits heavy inside her. Just another thing she's confused about, so in the end, she just nods, biting her lip.

He pulls her up then, sits her on his lap properly, sore butt on his hard thigh, feet tugged under the other, knees pressing into his stomach. He wraps one arm around her and leans forward towards the coffee table where an opened pizza carton sits, a smell she's barely noticed in her dizzy state. She leans into his chest as he holds a slice in front of her lips, watching her closely. Meeting his eyes, she opens her mouth and takes a bite of it, then watches him take a bite of his own as she chews.

It's a strangely intimate moment, how he feeds her, how they eat together, so domestic somehow. She barely knows this man, no matter what they've already done together, what's on the horizon, and yet she feels warm in his embrace, safe, despite it all, well taken care of. Another thing she's never experienced before.

They finish most of the pizza, his bites bigger than hers, and she's grateful he's not forcing her to eat more. He is, however, offering her his greasy fingers once they're done, and to her own surprise and slight shame, she grabs his hand and eagerly pulls his fingers into her mouth, one after the other, licking them clean. It's almost a natural thing to do, normal. He watches her as she does, his eyes dark, an intensity inside them that makes her shiver.

When he deems his hand clean, he wipes it on her shirt, lazily palming at her breasts with a small smile on his lips. It's a sight that mesmerizes her. He's so handsome, despite the vile things he makes her do. She doesn't want to think about the darkness lingering behind those deep eyes, the cruelty under his full hair, what makes him tick, what makes him so intriguing. Maybe it is the darkness that draws her in, makes her stare at him, take in everything about him.

There certainly is something about him that caught her eye, on that one night as she saw him for the first time, leaning against the bar, watching the dance floor. It isn't his wealth or influence or looks. It's like an aura, strong, confident, dominating, all-consuming. Holds her hostage (not just literally), keeps her close, makes her gravitate towards him, no matter what he does to her. It feels impossible to step away from him. And she knows she won't do that any time soon.

She is here now, with him, and nothing else matters. It's almost a freeing thought. Head empty, no worries, just him, a trust fall into a stranger's arms.

They're back in the bedroom, she's curled up on the couch, watching him change through the open door of the walk-in closet. The city lies dark behind the large windows, the extravagant chandelier above her tinting the big room in a warm glow. She has pulled the oversized shirt over her knees, her bruised butt sinking into the soft cushions, she still feels the soreness within and on her tense skin, but it's getting better. She's learning to distract herself.

The sight of him undressing is not new, but so much better under different circumstances. He's no longer that intimidating businessman in his suit, or the angry man glaring her down as he stepped out of his pants, he's just a man now, slipping into sweatpants and a shirt similar to hers. He's still tall and slightly daunting when he approaches the couch, but when he holds out his hand to her, she takes it without hesitation and lets him pull her into the bathroom.

Not another punishment under the shower, just a domestic little scene, handing out toothbrushes and mouthwash, standing next to each other in front of the vanity, meeting gazes in the mirror, getting ready for the night. It feels very surreal.

She's only reminded of their unique situation when she feels his hand slipping under her shirt, tracing her curves, down around her rear until his fingers dip under her panties and between her ass cheeks. She gasps when he tugs at the plug, pumps it in and out for a moment while she curls her fingers around the edge of the sink, pressing her lips together, before he pulls it out with a slightly wet pop.

Breathing deeply to calm herself, she feels a little drip into her underwear, but he doesn't seem to worry about it, only pulls it back into place, lets the fabric absorb what he wanted her to keep. It feels a little uncomfortable, damp and warm. He places the plug base down on the counter, watching her in the mirror.

“How do you feel?” he asks quietly.

She licks her lips. “Okay,” she says, not daring to lie or whine about what she feels. It is okay, for the most part. She'll live.

“Tomorrow, you'll get a bigger one,” he then says, nonchalantly, as if talking about the weather or what's for breakfast, not about how to stuff her ass with more toys and gadgets. She shivers. “Alright?” As if she has any right to say anything against that. Cruel man.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, lowering her gaze.

His hands are on her shoulders as he leans down to her, his warm lips brushing against her earlobe. “Good girl,” he breathes, his voice a low thrum in the air that makes goosebumps break over her skin, and when she looks up, she meets his amused gaze in the mirror while she blushes deeply.

He kisses her cheek and leans back, grabbing her hand to pull her into the bedroom. It's then that she fully realizes that this isn't normal. She's about to share a bed with a man she met yesterday, who took her away (she still has no idea about the exact circumstances, that memory will be lost forever), and who's apparently keeping her here for an undisclosed amount of time (why else would he buy clothes for her?).

But it's her own fault for not asking more, for wondering how this is going to go, why he's keeping her, why she stays without even trying to walk through his door. The latter is probably the thing that bugs her the most: why does she allow this? Just because he's rich and handsome? Is attraction and infatuation enough to let herself be treated like this, to allow him to use her however he wants? Maybe it is...

When she stands in front of the bed, watching him turn off the light, sinking them into darkness, she feels nervous. Her eyes adjust slowly, the dim glow from the streetlamps far below them the only light source now. Her heart beats faster. He's next to her then, guiding her onto the bed, under the covers, before he slips in behind her, his tall frame folding around her smaller one as he pulls her against his chest.

He's warm, his body hard but soft enough to be comforting. A solid wall of muscles pressed against her, and she snuggles into him, searching that heat and strength. His hands slip under her shirt, finding her breasts, lazily groping them as he settles behind her. She breathes deeply, biting her lip to keep her noises down.

“Do you still want me to take your virginity?” he then asks huskily into her ear, breath fanning over her jaw.

After everything he's already done to her (his cock in her throat, his cock in her ass), to ask this question, borders on insanity. But she's glad he does, to confirm their initial plan, the reason why she's here. She needs a reason, a plan, something to work towards. She doesn't want to be just a toy for him, to use, to fondle, she wants something back. Even though she isn't sure what that is. Pleasure? She's felt that before, mixed with pain, but still. She wanted a hook-up, be one of the girls he's taken into the back of the club. What else does she want other than his attention?

She doesn't know. But she'll figure it out. “Yes,” she says quietly, turning her head back a little to look at him over her shoulder. “If you still want it?”

His laugh is soft, a deep hum in the air. “Oh I want it, I want it so much, darling, I want all of you,” he whispers, nibbling on her earlobe. “You are such a good girl for me, and I am not done with you yet...”

His words make her shiver, a little sharp inhale as he sinks his teeth into her skin, one of his hands sliding down over her stomach right under the hem of her panties, fingers cupping around her mound. A whimper escapes her.

“W-wait... r-right now?” she asks in a breathy whisper.

“Whenever I want, baby,” he says, his voice vibrating in her head while his fingers slips between her folds. “That's why you're here, remember?”

She gasps softly, squirming against him when he dips two digits deeper, entering her, the stretch making it hard to breathe for a moment.

“Isn't that so, hm?” he whispers, licking along her neck as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of her. When she doesn't reply, he stills his fingers and brings his other hand to her throat, squeezing lightly. “Aren't you here for me to fuck you whenever I want?” he says pointedly, a dark edge to his voice.

She stiffens. There's a cold shiver rushing down her spine. At the same time, something clicks into place in her head. Purpose. Her purpose.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, a response that comes almost automatically, an instinct to say these words, to be polite, submissive, to agree with him no matter what.

He inhales deeply, his lips brushing against her jaw. “That's right,” he coos, kissing her cheek, turning her head towards him until he captures her mouth, slips his tongue between her lips. She moans into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut, leaning into him. He resumes fingering her, slowly, meditatively, a steady motion, something warm and hard inside her, and she feels herself slipping away, and there's nothing in her mind that wants to stop him. “That's my good girl,” is the last thing she hears as she drifts into a deep slumber, smiling softly against his lips.

THREE 🟥 FOUR 🟥 FIVE

End notes: Don't you just love these extreme smut scenes that end up in cozy fluff sequences? I sure do, so I hope you forgive me for making our girl suffer so much. It's for her best, right? (Yeah, the gaslighting/manipulating is strong in this one...)

Also remember: this is fiction! I do not condone this behavior IRL! Surprise butt sex should not happen like this. But this isn't a how-to-guide, my dear readers, it is fiction, things I made up in my mind! Be better people than these two!

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN◾ELEVEN

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #older man younger woman #size difference #praise k!nk #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #original fiction

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lokischocolatefountain · 1 year

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Secret || Mister Miller

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Warnings: No outbreak, huge age gap, infidelity in later chapters, voyeurism, creepy Joel, masturbation (male and female), bfd!Joel)

Word count: 1.3k words

Summary: Your shameful secret you keep from your boyfriend is not such a secret after all. Your boyfriend’s dad Joel Miller knows what you do…very intimately.

A/N: I don’t know what’s with me writing all this hefty age gap Joel fics with dark themes… I need to be lobotomised. Or I should go back to writing more sweet husband!Javi fics… I’m planning on making this a three parter or maybe even five… Let me know where you’d like to see this go.

Checking once again if he was asleep, you slipped out of his bed. Laptop, phone and headphones in hand, you made your way out of his room, making sure to be very quiet when shutting the door. It had become something of a routine since you started dating. He was good, better than some boyfriends you had in the past who wouldn’t even last five minutes. He treated you well, asked you what you liked in bed and took your advice. Which was why you felt guilty each time you escaped his room in the night to take care of yourself in the living room.

Your parents were on a summer vacation of their own, a long road trip to visit distant cousin you knew fuck all about. You would’ve gone even though you didn’t want to. But Matt begged you to come with him to stay in Texas for the summer. It was an attractive idea— you’d never been to his part of Texas before and you knew you’d miss him a lot. But you didn’t want to inconvenience him or his dad. Thankfully, Mr. Miller was kind and opened his doors to you and his son for the summer.

In return, you helped around the house. He never asked. But he was a busy man. A single dad to Matt and his sister Sarah since their mother left, being busy was his normal state of being. He was the owner of a small construction company he ran with the help of his brother.

Before getting up to your secret nightly activity, you headed to the kitchen and began doing the dishes. Matt cooked well, but he was atrocious with cleaning up. So you did that. It was also to somewhat reduce the guilt that built up in you for hiding things from him. When finished with the dishes, you settled on the floor with your laptop on the coffee table.

Your hand played with your necklace out of habit. Tracing the M of the pendant attached to the necklace Matt gave you for your anniversary. You dropped it, guilt searing your thumb in the M shape of the pendant for doing this without his knowledge.

Shame hit you right as the website loaded, images appeared of naked women posed amidst naked men for video thumbnails. Each provided you a glimpse into the kind of degrading activity each actress engaged in for you to get off in shame. Your eyes caught a thumbnail of a man— older, broad, muscular with a girl your age. You hovered the cursor over the image and it provided you a short peek into what was inside- the man, his hand gripping her hair and pounding into her hard and fast as her face contorted in pleasure. You didn’t care that it was all fake, that the actress probably didn’t even feel good.

You clicked on the video and skipped the poorly acted introduction to get to the good part. Headphones in and volume on high, hand inside your shorts as you touched yourself, you didn’t know you weren’t the only voyeur in the room.

Having come downstairs to fetch himself some water, Joel had noticed you crouching in between his couch and coffee table with your laptop playing something downright filthy. He should’ve walked away, given you your privacy. But goddamn it, you let out a sweet little whine, barely audible and his feet glued themselves to the ground.

It was also because of how uncharacteristic it was of you to do something like this. He’d known you for a while now and you’d always been sweet. Too sweet for his son, if you asked him to be honest. You were slightly older than Matt, having begun your Masters with a little bit of a break after your Bachelors. You were a good influence on him, he’d say. But clearly his son hadn’t been good to you, if he had to go by how you were touching yourself to porn in his living room.

Now, he knew it was wrong. No decent man would be aroused at the sight of his son’s girl getting herself off. But you were on his living room floor, using his wifi and you sounded gorgeous making those little whines and whimpers. If he had to guess the sort of thing you liked—and he never thought of such a thing before—it would be one of those erotic novels with shirtless men on the cover. Not this. Not videos of a man who fucked a girl like she was nothin’, picked her up and threw her around and brought his hand down on her to make her stay put and take whatever he gave her.

He put his hand down his sweatpants, just as you had yours down those little shorts you wore around his house. He couldn’t see anything of you. Just the back of your head. For Joel, that was enough. Just knowing that this innocent little thing was getting off on watching a man use a girl like that was enough.

Eyes fixed on you, he stroked his cock, imagining he had a nice wet cunt around it instead of his hand. The man on your screen had the girl pushed against a wall as he pounded into her, her eyes rolled back into her skull and she had her lips parted, presumably moaning in false enthusiasm for the man.

He’d been starved for too long. There was no other explanation for why he felt good watching that fake shit, especially so far away from the screen and with no audio.

He screwed his eyes shut as he got close, imagining himself as the man in the screen, getting to fuck a pretty thing like that. A girl on his bed, against his wall, on her knees with his cock drilling into her holes. He imagined that his hand, large and callused from decades of hard labor, around a pretty throat. Holding it along with a necklace with a gold M pendant dangling off of it. Her eyes rolled back and her lips— your lips — parted as you struggled to breathe. He leaned against the wall as his knees weakened, the image of you in his head strong as he stroked himself. You on his bed, you against his wall, you on your knees for him— and with a whimper he hid by biting down on his lip, he came. White hot cum coated his hand and fuck, what a waste when it’d look so pretty on you.

Fuck!

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

He took one last look at you before rushing back upstairs to his room. On the way, he checked if Matt’s door was still closed. It was.

He’d been starved too long. That was all. Nothing else. He’d done too long without a girl and you were the nearest one, cleaning up after his son and wishing him a “Good Morning, Mister Miller” every morning and asking “How was your day, Mister Miller?” when they sat together to eat whatever Matt cooked. It was just proximity.

There was no other explanation.

He’d been…active in his youth. That’s how he had two kids at an age where he was supposed to be a kid himself. But things died down later. Perils of parenting and a contracting business. There were women. Fleeting relationships and even more fleeting fuck buddies who’d all gone off to be with someone else. Now, there was just work. Hell, the last time he picked up a pretty thing at a bar was Tess.

Tess. That was it.

He decided he would give her a call, see if she still had the habit of cheatin’ on that useless husband of hers. Get rid of the images of you in his head with images of Tess.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #joel miller x you #bfd!joel #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x oc #joel miller age gap #joel miller smut #tlou x reader #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #all that i've inflicted on the world

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lucystark12 · 1 month

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what are you thinking, finn wolfhard?

everything i'm about to say aligns with my finn wolfhard is a genius agenda.

it was just made apparent to me that not only did finn wolfhard film it 2017 before season two, but he filmed his scenes as boris in the goldfinch literally DAYS before filming season three. this is extremely hard for me to conceptualize. but it also makes me think about finn wolfhard himself who obviously knows the truth about mike wheeler's sexuality. if byler is as deep seeded as we want it to be, odds are that finn knew what was up from the beginning. which makes a girl think- did he know the same about richie tozier when he first played him in 2017?

lets look at richie a bit.

richie is obviously gay. i will not be taking arguments on this. i'm reading a reddit thred right now where people are debating it and i'm like- are you kidding me. but he wasn't gay in the source material. stephen king has stated as much in a vanity fair article. though he calls andy muscetti's choice "genius" (which it is, btw), he makes it clear that it wasn't his intention. it's explicitly clear in it chapter 2, and being wired like a byler shipper, i was able to suss it out in the first movie, but was that andy muscetti's intention to begin with?

there are many ways this change can be interpreted. assuming that it wasn't something that was explicitly written into the original character description for richie in the first movie, you could see this as something that was put in as a sign of the times, a statement if you will. it chapter one was written in 2015-2016 while we were still under obama's presidency, one that saw drastic improvements for the quality of life of a gay person in america. it chapter two was written during trump's presidency and could have been trying to brand itself as a statement of sorts. i only say this because as far as i can find (and PLEASE tell me if i'm wrong) there wasn't nearly as much evidence hinting at richie's sexuality in the first movie as there is for mike or will to use a relevant example.

the idea that finn wolfhard could have gone straight from it filming (summer of 2016) to stranger things filming (early november 2016) just having played a character who he knows was in the closet and in love with his best friend in the 80s could open up new interpretation to mke in season two. oddly, the reason i bring this up is because richie tozier to me is the mirror image of a kid i was friends with in middle school. they acted the same, they even weirdly looked and dressed the same. the only time i've ever made the comparison between middle school kid and mike wheeler was during season two, specifically in the scene where max leaves them the note, which leads me to believe that he could have carried other things over from other aspects of the it production.

season two isn't what really concerns me though. i'm looking more at season three. the goldfinch only moved to production in albuquerque in april of 2018, which is obviously where finn wolfhard filmed all of his scenes. however, stranger things 3 started production on april 23rd, 2018, which means there might have even been crossover between finn's shooting dates if not at least a very short gap of time between them. it chapter 2 was filmed that same summer likely with some of it's own crossover with stranger things three dates. finn wolfhard's lack of scenes in the second movie are probably what made this possible, but the scenes that he did have tackled very delicate topics that had to be handled with care. most actors get their scripts for minor roles like this a few weeks out from filming, which means that finn could have had his scripts for it chapter 2 that very explicitly make it clear that he's gay during filming for stranger things 3.

so here he is with one gay character right before season 3 and one right after. he knows how to handle these things, which means that every move he's making, especially in season three, is most likely intentional, especially if he knows this far in advance about mike's sexuality. i think it's totally feasible that he does. i'm fifteen and i understand what was happening between byler during the fight scene, finn was sixteen and, being a part of this show, probably understood what was going on too even if he wasn't outright told. doing justice to a season like this when he was also having to figure out scenes like the boreo taxi scene or the arcade scene with henry bower's cousin or r + e was probably at the forefront of his mind.

in conclusion, i just have one question:

what does this mean, finn wolfhard?

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things 3 #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #richie tozier #the goldfinch #boris pavlikovsky #boreo #reddie

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triptychgrip · 7 days

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Yuuri’s love of Viktor’s extraness

Something that I've seen a lot of in Yuri!!! on Ice post-canon fanfic is a tendency to write Yuuri exhibiting a certain amount of chagrin around Viktor's extra-ness.

Perhaps I've misinterpreted intent and simplified instances that in actuality were meant to convey something completely different, but at times, I've noted this implicit (or explicit) weariness attributed to Yuuri when it comes to his reactions to Viktor's behavior.

Specifically, his excitability and charisma.

To reiterate: I'm talking about post-canon content, meaning that Yuuri and Viktor have already bridged that initial gap between them and are in a committed relationship. I say this b/c a certain amound of overwhelm/wariness in response to larger-than-life Viktor is very understandable in the beginning, when Yuuri is not only struggling to understand why the hell his idol has come to Hasetsu, but is also realizing that the public persona that Viktor exudes doesn't match up with the flesh-and-blood being that is the real him.

This "God, why in the hell am I engaged to an excitable child?!" characterization of Yuuri confuses me, because one of the most endearing parts of the show is the fact that Yuuri is capable of 1) being just as extra as Viktor (but in different ways) and/or 2) matching Viktor's extra-ness in the way of the whole "meeting him where he is" theme.

I think there are plenty of examples of #1 (that quad flip at the Cup of China!!), and the Chihoko incident is a perfect encapsulation of number 2. With the latter, note that Yuuri doesn't minimize Viktor's insecurities by being all "you're being ridiculous, Viktor, why is THIS your way of trying to get my attention?"; instead, he tells Viktor that he could search the entire world and still find no one better. Oh, and then at Viktor's request, he strips down and joins him on the top of Hasetsu Castle.

Writing him as only being tolerant of Viktor's extra-ness (rather than celebrating it) also confuses me because as they get to know one another, I would imagine that Yuuri is able to see more clearly than most how Viktor was at a breaking point before coming to Hasetsu. You don't get to be a 5-time World Champion without being somewhat of a workaholic with extreme discipline, and there is more than enough evidence to support the idea that prior to coming to Hasetsu, Viktor hadn't really allowed himself to let loose, have fun, and do something entirely for just himself in a very long time (aside from that Sochi banquet night, of course).

So then, after coming to understand just how much Viktor might have been suppressing his true nature prior to their coming into each other' lives, why would Yuuri make Viktor feel bad about this intrinsic part of his personality? I've always gotten the impression that Yuuri would adore Viktor's innature curiosity and excitability, especially when he comes to realize that Viktor is keeping true to his episode 4 request to just be himself.

I might make a part 2 to this post, because there are honestly a lot of Viktor headcanons floating around in my head, particularly with respect to the fact that he seems like a man who has been told his entire life that he is "too much". Thus, to perceive this same attitude from the love of his life (again, maybe not explicitly, but implicitly) would probably tear him up inside.

I actually explicitly addressed this in Chapter 7 of my post-canon Olympic Games series, by way of a BuzzFeed "Couples' Quiz" appearance that the Katsuki-Nikiforovs make. Their last question to one another asks them to list the things they think their partner loves about them the most, and frankly, it was healing for me to be able to write Viktor answering that he thinks his husband loves his charisma/excitability 😭🥹

#yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #viktuuri #victuuri #yuri on ice meta #yuri on ice headcanons #victor nikiforov #viktor nikiforov #there is no such thing as “too extra”#post canon yuri on ice #my writing

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softstarlite · 8 months

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Se nos rompió el amor

CHAPTER 2

Summary: You thought your love was strong and could conquer everything, I guess you were wrong...

Warnings: implied age gap, talks of pregnancy, angst, mention of options facing a pregnancy.

Rating: +18

Word count: 1.9k

Chapter 1 / Masterlist

Divider by @saradika

A/N: here you guys have the second chapter!! Hope you like it, and let me know your thoughts about it, love you amores <3

You knock on the door of the only person that feels right to go to right now, for various reasons, you know her for starters of course, she lives in an apartment owned by the US government as well, so it is safe, she knows what is like to have problems and arguments with your partner because of their DEA job and she also knew what wanting to protect your child was like.

You knock once more and wait for a few seconds, but the nervousness in you wins this battle and you knock again a little harder now. When Connie's tired and confused face comes into your vision after she opens the door, you can physically feel a weight being raised from your shoulders by the thought of not having to walk the Colombian streets by night all by your own.

Connie says your name as a question “honey, what are you doing here?” that's when she sees your face and sees the tears and the red nose from having blown your snot earlier “what happened? Are you alright?” her arm immediately embraces you and pulls you to the inside of the apartment, guiding you towards the couch.

You cry into her shoulder for a few minutes without needing to tell her why. That's when you hear walking behind you, you look towards the sound and see Steve with tired and a teary eyed Olivia, resting on his hip with her father's hand on the back of her head, who had woken up because of your knocking.

As soon as he sees your crying face he opens his mouth “Is Javi okay?” he asks with a lace of worry and readiness in his voice. You nod your head and he nods back in acknowledgement then he turns around saying “i'll give your guys space…” then he goes to Olivia´s nursery with her to try and put her to sleep again.

“I'm sorry for waking Olivia up, Con” you say between sniffs.

“It's okay honey, she'll get plenty of sleep in her life and she would have probably woken up in half an hour by herself, she's teething” she tells you while she rubs your upper back in comfort. She doesn't push you to talk about what is happening or why you are in their apartment at this ungodly hour.

After some minutes of you crying and sniffling with her comforting you, you blurt it out “I'm pregnant Con…”

You turn your head over your shoulder when you feel her hand freezing on your middle back, you see the surprise look in her eyes and how her mouth is open like she wants to say something but the words don't come, instead she embraces you, cradling your head in her hand like a mother would do.

“Oh honey…” she almost whispers so low that you don't hear her over your sobs.

You stay in their apartment for two days, making Steve swear that he wouldn't say a word to Javier about it, talking non stop about your possibilities from her nurse perspective, about what you want to do and how to do it.

The late afternoon of the second day is when you make your way downstairs on the apartment building and enter your shared one with Javi. When your gaze looks up from your hands opening the front door, a surprised squeal comes out of your mouth and your key free hand comes to your chest, over your heart. You weren't expecting Javi to be there on the couch, his back perched into the back of it, his fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose and a glass of whiskey in his hand. As soon as he hears the front door closing behind you, his gaze meets you and in less than two seconds, he's putting the glass on the coffee table, standing and striding towards you.

You let him take your face between his hands but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, he wasn't supposed to be here, he never is at this hour.

“Tesoro, oh my god, you´re fine” he says with relief, his eyes going over all your features “I'm so sorry for everything i said mi amor, hablemos tranquilos por favor (let's talk calmly please)”

Before he has any chances of making you doubt your already made decision, you take his wrists in your hands and look into his eyes “Javi, i'm here to pick up my things…” you see hope leave his eyes and pain come to them.

“What?! No, tesoro, no, you can't. I was drunk and work has been hell lately, that was all, we can talk, we can fix it” he says while his eyes travel from one eye and then the other of yours again and again.

“I've already bought a ticket for the states…” you say with guilt, even if you knew that what you were doing was for the best “you´re welcome to join us” you continue talking when you see the desperation in his face “but i already know what your decision is going to be…” which makes you feel even more heartbroken.

“Tesoro, you-you know i can't walk away from all of this” you knew he was talking about the narcos not the pregnancy “I need to finish this” he indirectly pleads with you to stay, trying to reason why you should.

“And you should know that i have to walk away from all this” you finally pull his hands away from your face; once they're back at his sides, you release them like they're hot iron “I can't raise a kid or even just have it while being surrounded by so much violence, and not only outside of this apartment but also in it, you´re angry all the time because of the violence outside of this safe place. Javi, lately i´ve been living with a person that when he's not angry, he's an emotional ghost…”.

Before he has any opportunity to respond to you, you walk fast towards the bedroom; you pull a suitcase from under the bed and you start to fill it with clothes and other necessities. Javier appears on the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes follow your every move around the room, he wants to say anything that would make you stay, but even his heart is telling him that you´re doing the right thing. By the way you expressed your plans, he knew you had already your mind set on having the baby, and if that was your decision, he supported it and he even supported even more your decision of wanting to get that baby away from all the violence; but the part of him that loves you from the very moment his eyes landed on you that day on the market, can't even fathom the idea of living day by day without your presence everywhere around his, that part wanted to be selfish and convince you to stay. He didn't even consider the possibility of leaving the DEA and going with you, it just wasn't an option, it was so important for him to put Escobar behind bars or a bullet between his eyes, he needed for his sacrifices and violence to have a meaning…

“Where are you going?” he asks with a colder tone now, not sure if it was as a way of protecting his heart or yours by making your decision easier for you.

He knew you had left the states when your last living relative, your dad, died; you sold his house, put his belongings in an storage unit and then started your travels around the world, you had been in a few countries before coming to Colombia, and you had planned to stay here just for a month before you met him and you both fell for each other, he was the one that flirted his way through the embassy to get you a visa to stay in the country with him when you made the decision to stop your travels to be with him.

“I'm…I'm going to Laredo…” you say, stopping your packing to look at him. “I've already book a hotel for a few days while i look for an apartment there, i thought that it would be better for the baby to be close to the only close relative they'll have apart from us…” you have already met Chucho before, you and Javier had travel to Laredo once when the embassy forced him to take some days off because they didn't want to face a problem with HR; you had loved the old man, so similar to the man you love in many ways, and his presence always made you feel like having a paternal figure close that reminded you so much of your own father… Since then you have responded to many calls that were originally direct for Javier from his dad but that turned into at least an hour of you talking with Chucho.

Javi shakes his head immediately “No, hermosa, no te vas a quedar en ningún apartamento (no, beautiful, you´re not staying in any apartment). I'll call pops and you´ll stay on the ranch, that way if you need anything or something happens, i'll know that pops is there”

You´re the one shaking your head now “Javi, I don't want to trouble your dad, no sería justo (it wouldn't be fair). This is my mess, I'll deal with it” you finish putting the last item that fits the suitcase and then you close it.

You hear him scoff then say “Tesoro, that man has been asking me for a nieto or nieta since i turned 30 and he also loves you already like a daughter, he'll be thrilled to hear about…your state” he clears his throat “but even more to have you on his house. He won't be that thrilled with me though” he says the last part in a whisper to himself.

You´re conflicted with the offer but when your mind debates it, you only think of your future kid and how it would be better for them to have as many people that love them close to them. That's when you nod and say “okay, while i stay in the hotel, that i´m not wasting away after already paying for it, i'll go visit him and we'll talk, okay?” you don't even know why you want to ease him, you should be infuriated with him, not only for what had happened two days ago but also for the fact that he was deciding to leave you and your kid by yourselves.

He nods and that's when you pick up the packed suitcase and start to walk to leave the apartment, refusing his help with the luggage when you walk past him. You make it to the front door, with you hand on the doorknob, you turn your head towards him and he gives you a encouraging small smile that you answer with a firm nod, then you turn back to the front door and finally leave.

That's how yours and Javier´s worst part of your lives start.

Next chapter

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whimsiwitchy · 2 months

Text

I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter six: 24

Pedro Pascal x plus size F!reader

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, swearing, age gap (24/14 years), descriptions of the female body, use of the word fat, descriptions of a bigger body (stretch marks, cellulite, rolls, etc.), descriptions of nudity, sexual themes.

Please let me know if I missed anything! Warnings may change as the story progresses.

chapter summary: y/n tells Pedro the truth.

authors note: Hi everyone! This chapter is a little rough, but it's done lol. Also, what do you guys think about the length of the chapters? Do you want them longer, shorter, the same length? Let me know! I believe they're average 1.5-2k words as of now. Enjoy! :)

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“BITCH, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!”

You had spent the last thirty minutes catching Angie up on the newest details of your escapades with Pedro and all of your doubts that came with it. It has become really common for Angie and yourself to go weeks without seeing each other, only sending each other texts here and there or the two of you discussing work stuff when necessary. When both of your busy schedules finally aligned, the two of you immediately set up a ‘catch up and gossip’ sesh on your living room couch.

“Please stop yelling. I’m one noise complaint away from being evicted because of you.” You sigh only half joking.

“Sorry sorry. I’m just… okay wait let me gather my thoughts for a moment.” She takes a sip of her iced coffee and she's staring just past your head at the wall behind you. Your leg is bouncing at a record breaking pace. You told her everything, not skipping a single detail, and you were hoping whatever came out of Angie’s mouth next was positive. You weren’t exactly sure why you were so nervous to hear what she was going to say. Maybe you wanted some confirmation that what had been happening between you and Pedro wasn’t crazy, that you weren’t in over your head.

Angie had always been better at relationships than you and understandably so. She was naturally beautiful, it baffled you how someone could even be born so blessed. She was about 5’4, with ginger hair that went down just past the middle of her back. She has this perfectly white smile that hid behind her perfectly plump lips with light freckles scattered along her cheeks and shoulders. Her loud and outgoing personality just solidified just how easily likable she was. You used to envy her but she was never competing with you. She was the kindest soul you had ever met and she stood beside you always. You knew whatever she said was probably what was best for you. She was the definition of a girl's girl.

“Okay okay... so you’re telling me that he came to see you on his day off, the two of you messed around in your trailer, he asked you to come over, and the two of you didn’t fuck?” She says as she finally snaps back into reality.

“Angie oh my fucking god… how many times do I have to tell you that we didn’t have sex.” You’re starting to feel hopeless. You had asked her for advice and shes done nothing but annoyingly ask if you and Pedro had fucked since the moment you mentioned that the two of you basically dry humped each other for a good five minutes in your trailer.

“Can you please be serious for five minutes and actually help me? I’m freaking the fuck out. Everytime I’m with him all of the worrying goes away but once I’m alone it hits me like a fucking truck.” You’re begging her at this point to put her dating expertise to use.

“Okay fine, I’m sorry.” She says sincerely and you let out a faint thank you.

“So he said something about wanting to take you out?”

“Yea, um, he mentioned it when he was asking me if I wanted to stay over. It wasn’t anything set in stone but he did mention like dating and stuff so I don't know…” You trail off, really unsure of everything.

“I think you’re overthinking it babe. If he didn’t fuck you, he definitely respects you and wants to have something more with you, ya know?”

“You think so?”

“I know so. He’s a good one y/n, I can feel it in my bones.” You give her a small smile.

“You should totally introduce me to him though so I can really double down on him.” She grabs your hands from your lap and looks you in the eyes.

“It’s all going to be okay, okay? In the end, he's just a man y/n. Besides, we can jump his ass if he plays you.” She squeezes your hands and gives you a tough nod.

“But that’s the thing Ang, he’s not just a man. He’s my older, insanely hot co-star, who still doesn’t even know just how young I am.” You huff and shove your face into your hands.

“Y/n, you haven’t told him?” She’s giving you a look you’re not familiar with.

“No…I tried but work stuff interrupted me and that was before he kissed me”

“Hm… well I think you should for sure tell him sooner rather than later, but don’t worry about it too much, yea? I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

“OH fucking shit, fuck fuck fuck…HOLY SHIT..”

Swears were flying from your mouth left and right as the wax lady ripped more and more wax off of you taking each hair follicle with it. With your intimacy training coming up soon, you had to prepare by being silky smooth on all body parts that have a chance of being on camera- which was basically your entire body for this shoot. You’ve been through this same process many times before but something about this felt different. You knew that this project was bigger than anything you had ever done before but somehow you being naked on camera for millions to see wasn’t your biggest fear right now.

Once your appointment was over and there wasn’t a hair left on your body, you were speed walking home. For some reason you always convince yourself to walk to the wax studio due to the close proximity to your apartment, but you always regretted it once your skin was begging for some sort of soothing distraction from the pain. Even with the loose fit of the skirt you were wearing, commando at that, you could still feel the irritation growing stronger. Your thighs were beginning to rub together in a way in which you knew you'd have to slather vaseline between your legs just to prevent any further chafing.

After your long ass hike (a ten minute walk) through the depths of hell (it was 80 degrees with a breeze), you finally made it home. You walked straight into your bathroom, stripped, and hopped into a cold shower. You scrubbed your body with a vanilla and coconut body wash, being extra careful when you got closer to your fresh brazilian wax, and washed your hair. When you finished showering, you lotioned up, dried your hair, and laid down in your bed to relax.

You planned on bedrotting and watching tik tok for the rest of the day but you couldn’t shake the thought of what Angie had told you earlier today.

Sooner rather than later…

*hey! I was wondering if you’d want to hang out sometime soon? :)

You sent the text and threw your phone across your bed. It’s been a few days since you slept over at his house. After you agreed to stay, he offered the guest room, but with all of your courage -mostly sleepiness, you asked to sleep with him. The next morning you were wrapped in his arms, soft snores in your ear. His hand was holding yours and you laid there memorizing each crinkle of his knuckles, staring at the tattoo that sat between the webbing of his thumb and index finger. You kept trying to imagine how he looked when he was sleeping, wondering if he had a peaceful look to him or if the wrinkles in his face relaxed. Not being able to hold off any longer, you turned over so your mind wouldn’t have to imagine anymore. You were right. He looked like the definition of peace. His hair was a mess, his mouth ajar, eyelashes resting beautifully on the underneath of his eyes. Pedro was the most handsome man you had ever seen, you were sure that you could have fallen in love with him right then and there.

Pedro:

*Hey baby. I’m done filming around 9 tonight. I can come pick you up and we can grab some food.

*Sound good?

You:

*sounds good. see you later <3

Another late night with Pedro. You’d unconsciously have been reserving nights just for him. When the sun was up, you worked, saw friends, handled whatever business that needed to be dealt with, but the night was strictly for him. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was purposeful or completely accidental that the two of you seemed to meet when the moon was out. The next few hours leading up to seeing Pedro would be hell, you were certain of it. Knowing that everything that has built over such a short time period could be washed away and you would have to awkwardly deal with him on set, somehow ignoring the strong feelings that you were beginning to hold for him. You were really hoping that Angie was right. That he would somehow be totally cool with the whole 24 year age gap thing, but you knew deep down that just wasn’t likely.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

It was 9:30 and you were pacing around your living room waiting for any sign of Pedro. You’ve been anxious all evening and now that the time to see him has come, you weren’t ready at all. A soft knock on your door makes you come to a halt. Walking over to the door, you peer through the peephole to see Pedro- who looks so good it makes your jaw drop. You took a few deep breaths before opening the door.

“Hey sweetheart.” He greets, smile beaming. You open the door wider, allowing him to step inside.

“Hi..” Your voice comes out softer than you intended, anxiety seeping through your body. “Uh, let me just grab some shoes and my bag then we can head out.” You walk towards a small coat closet to grab your checkered vans. “You can take a seat if you want, I'll be right back.” He gave you a nod and walked over to the papasan chair that sits in the far corner of your living room. Meanwhile, you were in your room freaking out. Seeing him was a hard slap in the face. You knew you had to tell him tonight before feelings developed and someone got hurt, but who's to say that won’t already happen tonight.

You felt like shit and you definitely looked it. Grabbing a small purse, you spray some perfume on and make your way back to the living room.

“Ready to go?” You ask, putting on a small smile, hoping Pedro couldn’t see through it. He returns the smile and stands up. The two of you make your way to his car, stopping once outside to lock your door.

“So, what’re you hungry for?” Pedro asks while putting his seat belt on, you do the same.

“Whatever is fine with me, I'm not too picky.”

You ended up grabbing some mcdonalds and parking in some random parking lot to eat and talk. He was being so sweet to you, complimenting you every few minutes, a smile never leaving his face. He was truly your dream guy, he was everything you could ever want. You were terrified that you were going to lose it all. You hadn’t been completely yourself all night and Pedro was starting to catch on.

“You okay baby? You seem a little off.” He’s looking at you, eyes filled with concern. You don’t answer him right away. You’re trying to find the best way to go about telling him. You were 24 but you were an adult and you hated that this age gap was such a big deal. You had never been into the idea of dating an older man but then Pedro came around and changed everything. For you, it wasn’t a life changing idea, but for Pedro, it could very well be career ending. If he was seen with you and people found out just how young you were compared to him. This whole relationship, or whatever it is, was doomed from the start. Your leg is bouncing, a regular occurrence around Pedro it seems.

“P…I need to tell you something.” You’re looking down at your hands, unable to look him in his eyes.

“What is it sweet girl? You can tell me anything.” His voice is filled with nothing but sincerity and you can physically feel pain from your heart slowly breaking.

“I’m not actually 35…” You’re still not looking at him, silence fills the air. You’re waiting for him to say something but he never does. You look up and his expression is unreadable.

“Okay…How old are you then?” From the sound of his voice, you can tell that he is confused.

“I’m 24.” You’re looking in his eyes searching for any rapid change of emotion. Your leg is still rapidly bouncing, heart pounding.

“What?”

“I’m 24, well i’ll be 25 soon but yea…”

“Jesus fucking christ y/n…” He’s shaking his head and running his hand over the slight stubble coming in on his chin.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask. You sounded so pathetic right now, but it’s all you could muster up.

“I’m not mad.” He’s staring at you. Relief flows through your body and you start to relax.

“Why did you lie to me?” His voice is raised slightly causing you to wince slightly.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you P, I swear. My um…my agent, Angie, lied about my age to book the audition. It wasn’t something I did intentionally, well it wasn’t something I did at all.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” A look of hurt present on his face.

“I just never thought to bring it up. I mean we were just hanging out then you kissed me and everything changed. I tried to tell you at the skating rink but we had to head to the floor and I swear I've been trying to find a way to tell you but I was so scared to ruin whatever we have going on here. I really like you pedro…”

“I really like you too y/n, but you’re so fucking young. I mean I’m about to be 50, I can’t be screwing around with a 24 year old.”

Your heart drops. You can feel the tears starting to well up before a few fall against your will.

“I’m sorry.” You're looking down again, trying to hide your tears from Pedro.

“I should get you home.” He sighs and starts the car.

The drive back to your apartment was quick but painfully awkward. You faced the window the entire time, letting your tears fall freely. When he pulled into the parking lot, the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. You were afraid to leave the car, afraid that this might be the last time you get to be with him outside of work.

“What does this mean for us?” You whisper, turning to look at him. He has his right hand still sitting on the steering wheel, while his left hand is sitting on his thigh, fingers tapping.

“I don’t know y/n.” He’s still not looking at you, face staring out the front windshield.

y/n. No baby, no sweetheart or sweet girl, just your name.

“Okay. Well um… thanks for dinner. I’ll see you on set.” Your voice betrays you, cracking on your last words towards him. He gives you a slight nod. You get out of the car and make your way to your apartment. Once inside, you kicked off your shoes and walked slowly to your room. Collapsing onto the bed, you let out a sob, all of the emotions you had been holding in finally being let free. You felt heart broken. For once you had the perfect man who saw past your weight, thought you were beautiful, and enjoyed your time. But it didn’t matter now. It was all ruined because of some stupid lie to get an audition for some stupid movie that has a stupid fucking title. You were starting to feel more angry than sad. Angry that you had even got the part in the first place, angry that Pedro asked you to hang out with him, angry that he had kissed you. If the two of you could have been professional and just be costars, your heart wouldn’t be breaking into a million pieces. Life was so fucking unfair.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x plus size reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro x female reader #pedro x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro x plus size reader #pedro x y/n #pedro x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff

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shiroganeryo · 2 months

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DGM 252: New perspectives and confirmations it has given us

⚠️First of all, I'll be tagging this under DGM spoilers so if you have somehow stumbled upon this even if you're avoiding spoilers for Chapter 252 (or the most recent DGM talks as a whole), this is your warning to turn back now!

And secondly, I'm under the effect of allergy meds so please pardon me if I'm talking gibberish 😂 But the latest chapter has given us some food for thought and I've been mulling it over.

There are two points I want to cover in this post; the first one being much extensive while the other is rather short.

1. Bookman Jr.

The reveal that the guy we had thought to be Past!A all along was actually the former Bookman Jr. in one of the best twists Hoshino has given us in a while - she sounded very proud of how we were all misled by her narrative and honestly I tip my hat at her for such genius - has also fueled questions about his identity.

I'll start by saying I do not believe he and Cross are the same person. That's not what I'll be talking about so I'm playing this card right off the bat. This theory, although popular, has always had way too many gaps for my liking and after the latest chapter, the chances are practically null that it's true.

If you want a discussion as to why, this post has put it into words better than I could and I agree 100% with OP's point, hence why I don't see the need to say anything on the matter.

But there's one thing that I'm yet to see people discussing and it's about the talk Lucia had with Joe back in The 222nd Night: Searching for A.W. - Hypokrisis.

(I'm showing what I believe to be the official translated English version by Viz and there's a reason why)

For a long time, people have debated about this small exchange between Lucia and Joe. There's no doubt the one they're talking about is old man Bookman, so we can confidently affirm he's the one waiting at the Campbell Mansion.

And what about Lavi? This is where the next dialogue from Lucia comes into play:

Since this is probably the version a lot of people have read, I must make it clear that the like "Junior, his successor, isn't here" was a mistranslation. Here's the original:

Lucia: Koukeisha to naru Jr. wa mou imasen. (The one who'd become his successor, Jr, is no more.)

I've double-checked with the Brazilian Portuguese translation because it tends to be as close to the original as possible, and surely enough, it's translated correctly:

(image courtesy of the volume I own by my so-so phone camera 😋)

"Junior, who was his heir, is no more."

The literal translation for what Lucia is saying is "isn't among us anymore", but that's an expression in Portuguese that means that someone has died/doesn't walk on Earth anymore.

While the mistranslated English version and the original Japanese/Brazilian version have similar meanings, the way it's worded gives the sentence a completely different meaning: in one we're led to believe Jr. isn't physically there at the Mansion, while the other two make it clear that Jr. has died.

And that's exactly why that, after Chapter 252 dropped, this scene is given a new perspective - because Lucia was referring to the former Bookman Jr, and not the current one.

We don't know the whereabouts of current Lavi - cue in the chair jokes, I unfortunately love them all - and while I might be wrong, I have my reasons to believe he's alive.

It just doesn't feel like Hoshino to kill an important character off-screen, plus she has said we'll see him again eventually and that the mystery of what's behind his eyepatch is still to be revealed (and will only happen once Bookman passes away, something that will possibly happen before the story reaches its end).

I have the feeling Lavi still has much to contribute to the story and he's actually one of the characters that, to me, seem to have the highest odds of making it alive until the end. It also isn't mere coincidence that Bookman picked the same alias for both Juniors, since Lavi has mentioned in a discussion room that the aliases refer to their record logs and the Holy War is being recorded under 'Lavi'. There's unfinished business to be taken care of.

Using the mistranslated version to illustrate was important because I've seen people wondering where Lavi is if not in the Mansion, while others were afraid he has died. He's very likely in a predicament, but dead? I don't think so.

So that only leaves us with one viable subject for that dialogue, that being the former Bookman Jr. (now affectionately dubbed Lavi Sr. by the fandom).

"But how come they didn't know Bookman already had a new apprentice back in Chapter 222 if the Zoogles mentioned it in Chapter 251?"

Yes, it's a little odd. What I can infer from this is that they either 1. Didn't know Bookman already had a new Jr. because he had been unconscious and only after they stabilized his situation they could talk, or 2. Did know about the current Lavi but believe him not to be ready to take on the mantle yet while Lavi Sr. was (but unfortunately deserted the clan).

Since only the Bookman and his appointed apprentice, who was born with the seal, can exchange information and records via their blood, it might be not that off the chart that the Zoogles weren't up-to-date on his affairs since they're not Bookmen themselves but rather a bloodline of people scattered across the globe who are supporters of Bookman's mission like Lucia has explained. Yet, even if they aren't all-knowing, it seems odd for them not to know something as vital as that about the person they're supporting.

And of course, there's also the possibility of option 3, something else that I completely failed to consider right now. Time will tell which one.

Note: By the way, the Lucia in 222 and the Lucia in 251/252 are indeed the same person; Hoshino seemed to hint there's a reason behind her sudden aging that we don't know yet. It's important to make this clear since what I've said is related to dialogues delivered by her.

2. Past!A = current Allen

(image courtesy of Kougeki Scans' Chapter 251's translation)

There were theories around and people still considering the possibility of our current Allen being a clone and all sorts of theories because of the unexplainable age gap between him and Past!A, but it seems the deaging theory has been fully confirmed by Chapter 252, as we saw it taking place before our very eyes.

There are still some mysteries surrounding it, but seeing how Apocryphos mentioned the "Helix", we can't help but be taken back to the explanation we've previously seen about the Helix of Life (The 221st Night - The Clown's Joke).

Since that's a topic that feels like there's more to it as of now, I won't be discussing the how and why Allen deaged, especially with the unseen variable in the mix that is Innocence; who knows if that might make the Helix energy behave differently.

I was on the "deaging theory" train because Nea was able to recognize Past!A all right when he looks in the mirror (The 214th Night: Searching for A.W. - Awakening) and also questioned the presence of Innocence on his body as well as how he hadn't aged but instead had gotten younger (The 215th Night: Searching for A.W. - By Your Side).

There are many mistranslations in the official English version of these two chapters (214 and 215) that have fueled countless misconceptions within the fandom but I won't be pointing those out in this post since I'm not here this time specifically to talk about it.

Note: Mangadex seems to have nicely translated versions of these chapters if you want to check them out for a recalling - I can't confirm fully but what I read of them looked consistent and faithful to the original.

Anyways, back on track; now that we've seen what took place 35 years ago in Chapter 252, Nea's bewilderment at the current situation of Allen back in Chapter 214/215 makes a lot more sense.

And even more interesting is that as soon as he noticed the Innocence lodged into Allen's left hand, we see the image of Apocryphos, as if Nea could feel its presence. Turned out that meant more than just Apocryphos being able to resonate with all Innocence, but rather, that the very reason why that Innocence had found home in Allen's body was by its intervention.

Just what the hell, dude. That was, once again, extremely well-played on Hoshino's part. I'm really looking forward to the next chapter!

#DGM #DGM spoilers #analysis #d.gray man #d.gray-man #there was a third point I wanted to cover but the meds make me run on only two overworking braincells #so I actually forgot which that was #it's possible I covered it while talking about the other two points because I have the feeling I talked about everything I wanted #but if the post feels lacking somehow that's why

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thesamoanqueen · 5 months

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Blackwater XIX

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: well I said a couple of months ago that something was toxic… there’s a lil bit of non-con this time, so if someone of you is not ready, im sorry, is that chap.

A/N: this chapter wasn't very easy to write, but the next ones won't be either, let's wish each other good luck.

She had hoped to go somewhere else, but with problems piling up day after day doing so wasn't even an option. It was safer to stay south, where their reservation still acted as a natural stop to any external influence coming from across the border, plus Roman was in the area, though again not there with her, having yet another meeting with yet another person for yet another deal.

She hadn't been very happy about it at first, but had to admit at least to herself that maybe it was for the best. In town she had finally found something she could bring to Lisa to thank her and plus they were relatively close home, which meant they would be there before night and she could go to bed to recover a bit.

The stress caused by the situation did not help either her mood or body already affected by hormonal swings of a heat that Y/N prayed to postpone as long as possible. She wasn't sleeping well due to too many thoughts, she was losing her appetite, as well as the desire to go running and that afternoon she had another one of her waves of shivers which was trying to fight with some hot chocolate in an attempt to also replenish a sugars. She had bought Solo a coffee too, but he kept holding it in his hand without drinking, too busy glaring at anyone who dared come closer than necessary, that was not even so close.

- You didn't grow up here, did you? – she asked, interrupting silence between them once again, because they spent a lot of time together, but even if he seemed willing to talk with her, their conversations were never long.

He looked at her a bit confused, putting aside his perpetual serious face for a moment, coffee still in his hand.

- Jimmy said you came here after, like me – she explained, letting out an encouraging smile and he shook his head no.

- I grew up in the area, with my family.

Y/N let out a surprised oh, going back to twirling the straw in silence as they walked towards the suv.

From the stories she had thought he had come from out of state to help Roman, but she probably misunderstood. She hadn't spent much time with Solo's family, she had only seen them once actually and he didn't open up more than necessary, most of the time talking about what there was to do during the day, well she talked, he was more comfortable listening.

- Not with them. They were always together somewhere. – he added unexpectedly, perhaps not to make her uncomfortable with another silence or perhaps not to make her feel so out of place and Y/N smiled gratefully.

Y/N saw him nod slightly, as if satisfying her had satisfied him too.

She had never really thought about it, but there was an age gap between him and those three. Now he was a big boy with muscles and a menacing look, in those years he had probably just been a kid that them didn't want around. She couldn't imagine what it was like, Y/N hadn't had any brother or sister, she had grown up alone, but the half year spent with all of them before the chaos was enough for her to understand. Maybe he couldn't have tolerated them as a kid, always together already as pack leaving him at home and doing their own business, but now he was a man, it was different.

His family is broken.

- I'm sorry, Solo...

Standing next to the black suv, he looked at her, again confused by her reaction.

- We have to do what needs to be done.

- They're your brothers no matter what.

- I swore to the Tribal Chief. They did it too. – he said serious, his tone almost angry.

In packs like theirs, still tied to old laws and traditions, it was normal to have a relationship of deep respect with those at the top. Those were legacies that were now intertwined with a changed society but still subject to natural balances, such as the amendment on property rights between mates and social hierarchies for those who belonged to or were born from groups not commonly seen well. Y/N, with her omega smell, knew a lot about it and had had to deal with it there too in the first few months, but the prospect of an acknowledgment, oath, was new and something she hadn't heard.

She saw Solo open the door to let her in, his face less angry, but still solemn.

- You don't have to – he reassured her, mistaking her silence for concern, dark round eyes stopping too long lower, at the base between her neck and shoulder, where Y/N had tightened her jacket trying to send away the cold shivers – you already have his… smell.

Smell wasn't the word he wanted to say, but what Solo was referring to, she didn't have yet.

Our mark. His mark.

That too was an old legacy, dangerous in her case, but Y/N didn't have time to think too much about it by looking for her phone which in the meantime had notified of a message.

***

Paul was a smart man. Roman had chosen him as a wise man for that very reason. There was no one in the entire country more capable than him, no one who had his level of experience. He was a lawyer, an advisor, a connoisseur, he had political support, important acquaintances within the packs and outside, plus his family had practically adopted him when he was a boy, so he was not a stranger. The wise man was many things, but honest only when necessary and Roman had never had a problem with that kind of approach in their time together. He tolerated all sorts of expedient for his purpose, he had learned the hard way how much it cost to have feelings, but everything changed if those tricks helped something of which he was not made aware.

Because Roman knew from years and life lessons. Loyalty and trust were something he no longer expected, from anyone and certainly not from someone who had stayed afloat when everyone else drowned. Everyone could be a friend, everyone could be an enemy, his wolf now did no exception and all the whispers, phone calls and messages that kept Paul busy even when they were together were nothing but further proof of a picture that he knew. The wiseman acted driven by the feeling of ground crumbling beneath their feet, frightened by changes that his cousin and those dogs on the border threatened, by the possibility of a future that Roman would not allow as long as he was able to breathe. He loved the wise man, he could forgive him being a coward, pretending not to see, at least until he took a step too far.

- So? – he asked annoyed, almost making the phone fly out of his hand.

- Two weeks. Tomorrow both of you will exchange the sogi – he reported in a heavy voice, his shoulders low, his face frowning as if someone had just stepped on him after the news.

He didn't like the prospect of that fight, first of all because he was risking his head. Roman knew even without having to ask that he would play his cards to make things better and save everything, but for him the two weeks he had dealt were too much time and those plans useless. Fourteen days were the ritual time to provide what was necessary for families, so that both parties were ready for any outcome, but for him were just a useless wait. He wouldn't be the one to lose, he had no alternatives to plan unlike Jey, he just needed to have free way and get his hands on his cousin.

- About the stipulations, I was thinking- he advanced, trying to recover as much as possible.

- There are none.

- My Tribal Chief, if I may, considering what we are facing now, it would be better to leave a few more resources and perhaps-

- There will be no stipulations.

He had complied with stipulations, conditions for weeks, suffered weakness for months, the time for mercy was over. He had left many doors open for his cousins, he had tried everything and Jey however had gone where he shouldn't, disrespecting him to the point of contesting him with the Elders, they had gone too far and now there was only one way to put an end to it. The only acceptable stipulation was unconditional surrender, total humiliation, there was nothing else to talk about. Guts were needed to keep their family in line, his dad had reminded him of this and Roman was not willing to receive other reminders in the future, he was no longer a boy. Whatever happened next, he would handle it the way he handled everything, with a firm grip and without regard, he didn't need those two to do it. He was the alpha, he had control and winning cards to play against everyone.

- How much longer do we have to stay here? – he asked, tired of waiting, staring with annoyance at the watch on his wrist.

They had been in that office longer than he was willing to tolerate and he couldn't stand listening to the wise man calls or him typing messages anymore, he didn't have all day to waste signing a deal with the governor. He had to train, dedicate the next fourteen days focusing on the goal, not sitting bored in a chair waiting for a paper that should have already been ready the second he set foot in that building.

- I'm going to immediately check where Pearce has ended up, my… – the wise man snapped to attention, but he barely managed to turn to go towards the door – tribal… chief.

Roman smelled him before even moving his gaze to the man accompanying Pearce. He had no idea who he was, he didn't remember his face if they had ever met before, but he had a smell that he didn't like. He didn't like the smell of him, he didn't like the way was staring at him, he didn't like the attitude and he sure as hell didn't like that he came around when he had business to do.

We don't like him.

- Reigns.

Pearce greeted, already adjusting glasses on his nose, his expression stressed as always. Roman didn't even look at him, focused on observing the new arrival who was already taking place at the table without having been invited. Pearce had that same attitude in the past, a couple of years ago, until Roman had taken it away from him in his own way and since then had never reappeared. He almost wanted to do the same with that new guy.

- What’s this idea Mr. Pearce?! It was supposed to be a private meeting for private business! Very important business! It's unacceptable! – complained the wise man, standing up against that lack of respect.

- Our new neighbors have informed the governor of activities across the border. It seemed right to him to invite Mr. Aldis as a delegate to clarify before signing anything. He’s in charge of that area now.

That's what he was. Another puppet, another well-dressed small dude convinced to have power or a chance against him, thought he was worth something, that he could stand face to face with Roman, thanks to the talks of those idiots to whom his cousins had left the field free. They were becoming arrogant, stupidly brave, throwing in his face that he had lost his hold in the north and that now there were others there. They hadn't gone too far yet, keeping everything legal, moving with what they could to make their voices heard, their new influence known, but Roman was fine with those games as long as they didn't go beyond the limit. And the limit was his patience running out.

- Since you no longer have jurisdiction there and the upcoming Bloodline activities threaten the entire area, restrictions must be established for the future. Real restrictions Mr. Reigns that I will take care of enforcing and making clear to you. Without it, nothing new will be authorized. – the new dude, Aldis, announced, openly defying his influence, head held high and the wise man behind him jumped.

They wanted to authorize him.

- How dare you- he screamed, but Roman simply raised a finger to silence him, the other hand gripping the chair.

That tanned, smug face of him would have looked perfect smashed onto his table or on the floor, better under his foot.

They wanted to play the big game, gamble when he already had more important business to take care of. It was almost hilarious, almost because that little game would be short-lived. He would let them do it, for a while, until Jey got what he deserved since everything that was happening was his fault. That was what happened if they left their side exposed, if they allowed a pack of strays to smell weakness, it was the price to pay for a crack and the reason Roman would have no more second thoughts.

Elders were right, he had to focus, do what he had to do and what he had been chosen for. He couldn't afford any more weaknesses or they would become ready and able to bite his throat.

- Go ahead – he conceded, collecting himself.

He would get rid of them one by one, blood of his blood or not. Without mercy.

***

She had sought comfort between now cold sheets smelling of him, curling up her legs for extra warmth, keeping her eyes tighter to ward off thoughts ready to fill her mind, but hadn't made it and her she-wolf had found Roman through the link. She had sensed him immediately, probably because he wasn't shielding anything believing that she was still asleep and Y/N had snuck out to join him in the dim light of his home office.

Mate is not here with us.

He was sitting on the couch with a solitary lamp, his face serious, fingers running through the seeds of his necklace. He was physically there, but his head was somewhere else as happened too often now. In the house he always kept the ulafala in the case, but Y/N didn't need to ask to know why he was there staring at it when he was supposed to be resting by her side, in their bed. Paul had told her as soon as he received the news, keeping to their agreement or perhaps already seeking help and Y/N had finally given a deadline to the anxiety that was weighing on her.

Fourteen days of peace before chaos, before completely crumbling what was left of the family, but in a few hours it would truly become inevitable. Or it was probably already late judging by Roman's face.

- Will you have to wear it? – she asked in a whisper, entering the room almost on tiptoe.

He hadn't told her anything about how the meeting would take place nor had he added anything about the fight, but she couldn't blame him. She had promised to stand by him, to defend him, yet she hadn't reacted well to his drastic change of plans and he didn't seem to really understand why she hadn't accepted it. What had happened was serious, but what could happened next would be even worse. Standing, she watched him keep his gaze fixed on the symbol of sacrifices, of his role and pains without turning to look at her and she too observed it, perhaps expecting a revelation.

Red for power, seeds for the rebirth of the dynasty.

She knew the value and pride behind that object, Roman had told Y/N all the stories about the ulafala, but no matter how hard she tried in her eyes it was only a necklace left weighing him down. It should have given him strength, conveyed his strength, represented the family future and instead he found himself fighting to keep it around his neck, to keep what he had gained after an argument born from unpleasant circumstances and degenerated due to old grudges.

- I earned it, represents me – she heard him reply, because in his mind it was the only thought.

She felt it, she knew it. He felt his efforts, sacrifices threatened and they were, but Y/N still felt like it wasn't Jey or Jimmy who was the real danger. At least not initially, now everything was a danger, even the elders who were supposed to accompany and advise him. Them all had fallen into a trap were building with their own hands and she couldn't resign herself to the sight of that disaster.

He's not just that for us.

- You don't need it – she reminded him, stopping looking at the ulafala to focus on him.

She saw him inspire with frustration, felt annoyance pass through him at the mere idea of continuing that conversation, his eyes far from hers.

- Go back to bed Y/N.

- Come with me then, is not mornin yet – she insisted, refusing to give up.

They had different opinions, different approaches, it had always been like that and perhaps it would never change, but they were on the same side. She didn't want to go back to their room if he wasn't there, didn't want to sleep if he wasn't there, she had been alone for too long to throw away moments, to wait two weeks to pass and then hope to go back to what they had before. She trusted Roman, she had never trusted anyone like him, but it wasn't going to end up with Jey and Y/N was honestly afraid of the aftermath he talked about. The threats were different, without blood ties and were just waiting the right moment to attack him, they wanted to get him out of the way and take everything, not just his role. No one can get rid of a weed without pulling out its roots. It had already happened with her family and now can happen again because he was focused just on what was in front of him. But she couldn't wait for the inevitable, it wasn't in her nature to do what she had to do or what he wanted, she existed to do what he couldn't.

She saw him stay silent, sign he had no intention of moving. So she stood in front of him, slipping the ulafala from his fingers without asking. That move finally forced him to raise his head, trying to understand what was happening, while she carefully placed it back in the case where he kept it and then went back to the couch. She listened him breathe heavily, scratch his dark beard with a grimace, and she sat down on his lap to take up the entire view.

- Ain't doing this talk once more – he stopped her soon, shaking his head.

- Not even if im the one asking? – she tried, seeing him immediately clench his jaw.

- Im doing it for you, for us, all! I told you and you said we were on the same side, now what?!

- I'm not taking anything back. I'm just worried it’s already too much – she confessed, not really knowing how else to explain the feeling in her.

Maybe she was giving in to the hormones, anxiety, or maybe was the fact she hadn't cared about others in years like she did now for him, but it was all happening so fast and whether Roman was ready to admit it or not, he was losing control and not facing things with a right mindset. Those outbursts of anger, the way he turned against everyone, judgments, drastic solutions, he was getting carried away by the desire for revenge and his justice. He kept saying he was doing it for them, for their future and instead seemed like a pretext to rush towards other problems. They didn't need acknowlegment, a border to build anything, they were fine, everything worked when it was just them, together. They had never been happier than in the time spent getting to know each other, digging their bond out of the dust and strengthening it. Life certainly couldn't be made up only of moments like those, dates and runs in the woods, but things could certainly have been different.

- Whatever it takes, doesn't matter, at all – he announced, almost exasperated by having to explain, by having to hear, his gaze so confident and Y/N stared at him for a moment without being able to say anything else.

Whatever it takes, he said.

The prospect of those sacrifices and ease which he said he wanted to face them would torment was heavy, but as she had sadly learned to do growing up, she hid all the worry in the back of her mind.

He didn't listen or maybe he didn't want to.

So Y/N simply moved closer, challenging his growing temper, to seek some warmth and his lips in an uncertain kiss. Saw him look at her almost suspiciously for her reaction, studying before reciprocate the kiss and sliding his hands down her thighs. Close, felt their breaths slowly mix in the silence of the dark house and that warmth she had found too late, growing from the most vulnerable part to her chest begging for comfort.

- You matter to me – she reminded him in a heated murmur, forehead resting on him, swollen lips touching, eyes burning for something that went beyond words.

She didn't really care about anything else. They could have been anywhere, surrounded by anyone or in utter desolation and Y/N would still have searched for those eyes. They were her firm point, he was her person. The thought of it terrified her, but she was done fighting and pretending. Roman was everything for her, she had nothing else anymore and she wanted, hoped... he would understand that for that exact reason they couldn't give in. They had to stay together, as a pack, mates.

She saw his gaze lingering on her lips, rising then to meet her eyes, two brown pools now dark in the dim light of the room. Felt his fingers gripping her hips, digging into soft flesh with possession, domineering and lust, marking her skin to claim and force her where she already was.

- Then you gonna be there with me, as you should – he demanded, resolute and despite fighting with everything her head suggested, Y/N nodded to please him again, letting Roman finally crash his mouth against her, satisfied.

They would find a way, they would find a solution even if it seemed difficult, they could do it together, but in that moment Y/N just needed to feel him close, just for her, far from all the noise and problems that awaited them out. They could give themselves that moment of rest, cherish it and Y/N rocked on him, moaning into his hot mouth as their bodies inexorably warmed up. His tongue was insatiable, ready to devour and intoxicate her with his good taste, thrown into a fight that she didn't even dare win. She preferred to let him have control in those moments, while her fingers made their way through dark soft locks, scratching the back of his strong neck to once again elicit that raw growl that vibrated through his broad chest into her bones. Felt his hands slide deeper, grasping her ass, encouraging Y/N to move her hips, pushing on his boner which was quickly answering to juices already wetting his pants.

She had stopped wearing panties when they went to bed a while ago and now was even grateful. She would bear nothing but the feeling of his hard body against her, pressure building like a blessed torture as he guided her growling for her to ride him shamelessly. Y/N had been trying to slow down and control herself for months now, so as not to give in to the heat of their bond, stay with feet on the ground and mind clear now that everything was falling apart, but it was an inexorable descent faster every time Roman touched her. She clung to him, feeling one of his hands travel up under her shirt to roughly grab one of her breasts, his calloused palm rubbing her sensitive nipple making her squirm. Her body had always been hyper-reactive to his attentions, but now she had fallen into a spiral with no exit. Y/N yearned him like a castaway for salvation and in moments like that the need mixed with something more, something that Y/N had never felt for anyone else and her she-wolf fought to make her whisper.

Tell him. We need him. Our mate. Tell him.

- My pussy wet as fuck hm? You need me, don't you? – he said voice like velvet, breaking their kiss and motioning for her to raise herself just enough to sink easily into her cunt – Ima fill you up good, babygirl… don't worry. Aint going nowhere and you'll be stuck with me.

The heat caused by his intrusion had already forced Y/N to open her mouth without being able to speak back, but the sudden thrust of his hips quickly accelerating to pound her almost made her cry. Hands tightened on his shoulders, eyes narrowing with each thrust and then opening as the wave of heat rose from her belly, sending her entire body into flames. Bouncing on his lap, she felt Roman moving his hand from her breast to give her a sharp slap on her ass, he did it one more time drawing a moan and then move up to her throat, to squeeze it just enough to bring tears to her eyes. Quickening the pace, in the frenzy of their moment, Y/N began to confuse the her own pounding heart with the slick sound of bodies slamming together. Her mind becomes more clouded by the second, ears filled with Roman's growls and threatening promises like dark spells ready to tear her soul and climax away. Confused between pleasure and desperation, she held him to her as he held her by the throat, twitches of her wet center uncontrolled amidst the panting of both of them that grew angrier. Room around flashed, throbbing like folds around his cock, impregnated with smell of their bodies, air charged and heavy, saturated with sweat and lust, with a mix of their smells.

They were racing with no intention of slowing down, as if the only goal was to consume, melt and crumble thanks to the other one. Y/N end came sudden and violent between a sloppy kiss and a particularly insistent push on that soft point on which Roman loved to rage without any mercy, fast, powerful, in a strangled moan that made her bare feet tingle, rising in an electric discharge up her legs to a sweaty body, chest begging and hot face. She closed her eyes, grabbing Roman's arm for her life, throwing her head back and then immediately hiding her face on his shoulder because he wasn't slowing down, he wasn't even giving her a moment to breath and she had already went over her limit. Heat kept growing and shake her, causing Y/N to lose all contact with her surroundings, ears ringing as if she had been underwater, body still crying out for more while Roman pounded furiously. Stunned, she stood abandoned in his arms, letting him have his way as he wanted, until something made her eyes widen, pushing her to gasp.

- R-Ro- she tried, because his hand had somehow left her throat, to grab Y/N by the back of her neck and tilt her head to the side.

He was holding her by her curls, beard scratching her hot neck, tongue ready to lick away sweat from her sweet pulsing weak spot to prepare it.

- Easy, stay still – his breath against her skin, so close, pushed Y/N to stiffen as much as his words – I'll be gentle, ssh…

Roman had never pushed, he had never held her like he was doing at that moment and feeling his teeth on her flesh sharper than usual, Y/N wriggled away.

- Don't - she tried again, feeling him tighten his grip, slowing down his thrusts, another hand moving to her wrist.

Why he was acting like that?

- Don't panic, its me – he reassured her, words heavy, attitude raising for her reaction and she planted her feet, her only free hand tapping on his bare chest.

It was him, Roman? Was it really him that one? Suddenly Y/N wasn't so sure and ignoring her wolf pleas, confused between the sense of discomfort and desire to give in, she pushed again to put some space between them.

- Y/N

- No, not like this! – she wailed and when finally managed to slide away from his legs, Y/N saw him jump up with a growl.

The crash of the coffee table froze her on the couch, eyes wide as she watched him pant in anger with clenched fists, body stiff. Still dirty for their moment, but with her mind completely clear now, she watched him stand there trying to regain control in a heavy silence she hadn't felt between them in a while. Roman rubbed his face, rolling his large shoulders, rocking his head and even though she was shaken, something in Y/N's chest tightened following the imperceptible direction of his gaze across the room, where she had put the ulafala away.

Did he want to mark her to prove a point? To have full control in order to not go through what had happened with his family? It was that?

Mate…

She moved her eyes to his hand, the one would have grabbed to calm him, to bring him back to there with her, the one she always found on herself for any reason even the stupidest, the one Y/N had learned to want, but a second too long passed and her hesitation was enough for Roman to quickly settle down, deciding to walk out of the room without a word to leave her again.

***

Uncle Afa was a man bent by age and illness now. When him and his dad stopped traveling around the country, he opened a gym in a recreation center on the eastern outskirts of the city where family had settled. He only trained their people at that time, city folks didn't want to set foot among savages, but his uncle ignored comments like his dad, dedicating himself heart and soul to the pack. Roman remembered going into that place the last time when he was sixteen, probably with the twins, to put on muscles that had grown bigger on their own later and fill his stomach always asking for more. The gym was different now from then, it was larger, it had incorporated buildings next door and it wasn't dusty at all. There was a sign, clean walls full of photos and articles, in the central one there was also him, right at the top.

They had organized the meeting there to have a neutral place, a place that represented everyone, a symbol of the pack values as the Elders demanded. Yet sitting at the head of the table in the gym hall, with the attention of many of his blood just beyond the threshold, Roman kept undaunted watching that perfectly framed photo at the top of the wall. He was there to talk, ready to prove his worth even if it was thanks to him that that picture had a wall to still be on, if that gym existed after his uncle's family had spent almost everything to pay the national healthcare system, if the next generations would have a place to go or eat like he did. He acknowledged his family efforts, but all of them would have been still in that dusty past of mediocrity if Roman had not taken everything into his own hands knowing he was more than what the world saw.

- Don't try, don’t think about it, I wouldn't do it if I was in your place - he heard Jimmy warn, blocking the wise man from trying to come forward to break the silence of their meeting that had already started a few minutes ago without a word.

Roman heard him clear his throat anyway, but payed no attention until Jey, the only one sitting besides him and Y/N, decided to cut it short.

- I don't have any piece of paper with me – he announced, rubbing his hands on his legs.

Roman eyed him silently, slowly tilting his head and Jey shifted in his seat, face so serious as he settled himself better to speak.

He could broaden his shoulders and give himself as much tone as he wanted, but he would never be on his level, he would never be like him and it was evident. That meeting was ridiculous, disrespectful even.

- It's just between us for me. Families have nothing to do with it – he explained, quickly nodding to whoever was outside the door – Same for Solo, he's my brother... and Y/N, she's family too. He disappears with you though and won't set foot in the packland again as long as I'm here. – he concluded, pointing to the wise man who didn't even manage to mutter his disappointment before Roman burst out laughing.

He’s crazy and dumb.

His hoarse laugh echoed throughout the entire empty hall and he didn't bother to hide it or hold back, simply running a hand over his beard to regain control only after a while. With the entire family's eyes on him, he knocked the table with his hand, eyeing his cousin once more.

Jey. The little soldier Jey. Roman had tried to keep him close, to teach him how things worked, because he loved him and still he didn’t get it. Not a single thing. Anything at all.

He persisted with his speeches even a few days before the moment which Roman would have removed him from the family, putting everything on the table to play the good pup. He wanted the title, he wanted to chase him away, but he was willing to vouch for his family anyway, for Solo who had kicked him and even Y/N… as if there was only one scenario out of all the ones imaginable in which Roman would have left her if not as a deadman or it would have allowed him to realize the ideas he had in his dumb head. He still thought the problem was him or the advice the wise man had given him to stay on top, he thought he could keep his hands clean, not involve anyone and he didn't understand that the situation they were in already, was the exact reason for which he would never have survived in Roman’s place.

- You're wasting my time – he said, giving him an annoyed smile.

Jey didn't reply, cashing in without even a nod. He was good at cashing in, Roman acknowledged it, it was his talent, perhaps his only one, but it still wouldn't have been enough against him. He might be determined and willing to fight him one more time, but it would be no use. Roman had no limits and had learned over the years and blows what was needed to kept the role he had.

- Whoever will standing at the end decides, tha’s the deal, the stipulation. There's nothing else to say – he established, tone suddenly deadly heavy.

There was nothing he wasn't willing to do or lose to keep what was his.

He saw Jey nod, imitate him and stand up and in the silence of the room leave the table to join him. Face to face to each other, he stared at his reflection in his cousin's dark eyes, the ulafala still around his neck as it was in the photo of him on the wall and as it always would be. He squeezed Jey forearm and allowed that even if the bond between them no longer existed, their wolves shared a final breath.

Blood of my blood. Brother. Traitor.

When the air left his lungs again to fill them with the stale smell of the center, Roman let go without hesitation, Jey imitating him in a perfect mirror. However, was he who turned his back on his cousin this time to go away first, ignoring the wise man's sad look and those of the rest of the family outside waiting. Y/N who had been on the sidelines the entire time, unexpectedly joined him, her back straight and face betraying nothing as she took her place next to him. Roman didn't comment, there was nothing to say.

Two weeks and he would have control again. Only two weeks before moving on.

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#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x you #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic

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urf1lterr · 2 years

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lovesick | pedro pascal [2]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 6.7k

status: in progress

author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.

You hated working weekends.

Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.

No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-

"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.

"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.

"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."

Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."

"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."

"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"

"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."

Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.

In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.

What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.

One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.

The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.

But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.

He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.

There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.

The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.

"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."

"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.

"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."

"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."

"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."

The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.

As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.

But you were totally not complaining.

That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.

Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.

You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.

Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.

"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.

"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.

"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.

"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."

"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"

He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."

Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."

He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.

"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.

"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.

"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.

Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.

If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.

"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.

Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.

There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.

Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.

To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.

Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.

"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.

"For what?"

He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"

Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.

"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.

Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."

He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."

"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."

Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."

You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.

That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.

"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.

"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."

Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."

If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.

"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"

Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"

He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.

Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.

"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"

He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.

Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.

However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?

No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.

But how many times did Joon come over?

Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.

Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.

After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.

And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.

"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.

Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.

"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.

"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.

He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.

"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.

"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."

Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."

"His name's Joon."

"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."

Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.

"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."

"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."

"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.

Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.

"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.

Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.

"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.

"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.

Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.

It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.

And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.

As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.

"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"

Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"

"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."

Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.

Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?

"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"

"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.

Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."

He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.

But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.

"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."

"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.

You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?

"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"

"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.

Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.

"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"

"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"

"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"

With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.

Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.

You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"

"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.

Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."

Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.

That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.

"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.

You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.

Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.

"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.

"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.

"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.

She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.

"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.

Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"

Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.

"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.

His negativity was bad luck.

"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"

"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."

"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.

You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.

You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.

Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"

Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.

"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.

Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.

But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.

"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."

"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.

"The target dog," Joon answers for you.

Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."

"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."

"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."

Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"

"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."

"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."

"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.

You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"

Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?

"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"

Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.

Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"

"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."

Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.

You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.

"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."

"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."

"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.

"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."

His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.

"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.

Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.

"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"

Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"

To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.

"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"

After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.

Greedy little shits.

Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."

Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?

He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.

"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.

It never hurts to try, right?

Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"

Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.

Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.

Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.

You Got The Tickets To The 1975!

Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.

Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.

For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.

"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.

Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.

"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.

"The 1975."

You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'

"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.

"Not dumber than Jules though."

You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"

Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."

He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"

You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."

Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."

Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."

Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"

With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.

Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."

And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.

Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.

"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.

"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.

Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.

Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.

How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.

But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.

His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.

Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.

"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.

"I need a pill that can wake me up."

"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."

Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"

"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.

Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."

"Damn, that sucks."

Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.

Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.

Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.

You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.

Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.

If anything it looked fake and...sad?

"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."

Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?

"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."

Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.

You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.

To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.

As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."

You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.

The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.

"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"

Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.

"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.

"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.

"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.

"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."

Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."

You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.

The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.

"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.

"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."

Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."

Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.

He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.

It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.

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