#gotta continue but I feel it will be complicated

[scarletfantasia]

I decide to watch again Alive (1993) to compare with Society of the Snow.

I discovered their story through a documentary and later with Alive that I liked so much that I read the book and Nando's book. And yes I havent seen again this movie after that. Because the choices they made with the reality and changing the names' deads disturbed me. Knowing the Survivors didnt like it was also a reason I hoped for a new movie and kept a distance with Alive. But I still genuinely thought it wasnt "bad" And I kept a "nostalgic" memory of it.

Well, after Society of the Snow, watching a old documentary and reading again Nando's book...oh dear Alive (1993) is painful to watch.

I could write already an essay about everything that goes wrong...and I am only at the thirtieth minutes.

[basslinegrave]

anyway i need more monarch a trois fics. sigh. wish i could write, i gotta draw them more at least

[chahaa-piun-ja]

🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

This one was hard!! Not just because I don't write much fic and take ages to finish the ones I'm working on, but also because I've mostly been in super prolific fandoms and enjoy the popular stuff in them!!

That being said, outsider POV is one of my favourite thing that seems to be kind of under-represented, across all the fandoms I've read!

[diabeticgirl4]

Another cr1 au I can't get out of my head that I desperately need to read and/or write: basically Cassandra fully rejecting her de Rolo name and status and refusing to lead Whitestone post- saving the city. ur problem now Percy!

Cassandra was not lying and she later stuck to her words when she called herself a Briarwood. As far as she knew, she was the last surviving de Rolo for the five years post her recapture, and with the Briarwoods charming her, torturing her, keeping her under their thumbs for five long years, being a de Rolo wasn't really a choice anymore, was it?

But then when Percy came back, made himself known for the first time in five years, what could've been relief, hope, or even pride at seeing another de Rolo alive after the years, instead she felt nothing but fury. He was alive after all these years, and never thought to make contact? Not only did he leave her for dead, but never once considered her survival? Despite being stuck with the Briarwoods, she still had contacts throughout the city, and not once through the years did someone report back with note of the survival of one Percival de Rolo. But now he comes back, and thinks she should be grateful?

Yes, of course she's relieved by the death of the Briarwoods. She may have considered herself a Briarwood alongside them, but they still made her life near insufferable.

Her brother reappearing into her life, however, after five long years of suffering and then acting like things could go back to normal? Cassandra no longer has a sense of normalcy and has long since abandoned the de Rolo name and lifestyle. What has being a de Rolo done for her, other than having her entire family slaughtered and everything else taken away from her? Being a Briarwood, however, at least ensured her survival with her new "family".

So when Percival states his desire to restore the de Rolo legacy, yet thinks he is not capable of leading the land- what, like she is? She, who no longer claims the de Rolo name, who has not thought of Percival as her brother since he left her for dead all those years ago?

That's fine with her, if he chooses not to have any part in leading Whitestone, but he cannot expect her to lead in his place. She will have no part in leading the lands that helped keep her captive over the years, and will not reclaim the name that was stolen from her and desecrated with only her to witness.

(tl;dr I don't think it was fair for percy to run from + shove the responsibilities of leading Whitestone on cassandra not long after learning of her survival, and I think she has the right to be angry and say "no frick that" and let percy figure it all out himself! Let there be complicated de Rolo sibling feelings, let there be anger and hurt! Gimme that angst!)

[sunniepoo]

Hii sweetie 🫶🏻 I was wondering if you could write something about stepbro!rafe teaching her stepsis about sex and stuff, telling her it's normal to do this thing and everything.. thanks in advance love!!

ugh yess!!thinking about this being a post-sex convo where you start feeling guilty about it and he has to manipulate reassure you

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

you’ve always has an inkling that what you had been doing with your stepbrother was wrong and despite how good he made you feel, how far he made your eyes roll back - there was always a little voice in your head discouraging you; telling you that this wasn’t right

‘th-this is all natural-’ he would ramble, going on about how this is his role and purpose as the man of the house, making sure that you knew all of this and how ‘no one else would understand’

it was hard because as much as you trust rafe’s word, you couldn’t ignore the pit in your stomach, after every long night of him pounding into your cunt, nagging at you that this was disgusting - you were disgusting

and that’s how you found your usual bubbly demeanour gone as the older boys large amount of seed drips out of you, coating your thighs with pale white colour - the warm liquid reminding you of your shame or lack of. you didn’t even register the presence of rafe’s large figure slowly cleaning you up, how could he be so casual?

“what s’mthin wrong?” he queries, large palms coming up to massage your sore body, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere “hm? c’mon kid you gotta talk if you want me to help”

“d’you feel like we’re doing something wrong….something bad” the question blankets the room, clouding the room with a sense of uncertainty

“what” the older cameron deadpans, response coming out more icy than you expected “wh-what wh-where is this coming from…what are you even talking about” eyebrows furrowing with every word, showing his clear confusion and worry, mind lingering on the question ‘why are you having second thoughts?’

“just feels like this is wrong sometimes” hands reaching up to rub at your forehead, eyes planted at the side of the bed “why are you saying this,did someone say something…..hm?” he was stressed now, not at the idea of you two getting caught but more so the idea of you backing out of this situation he had carefully established

“no no no… no one’s said anything,no one knows, just feel like this whole things a bit wrong sometimes - like i should be ashamed for doing this…for doing you”

the room falls into a moment of silence, the blonde in front trying to process what you’ve just said, he can’t help but smirk a little, lips curling upward- you’re worried about being a dirty little girl, it was laughable to him because you don’t understand it like he does, you’re his dirty little girl

“look… this-“ he begins, one hand waving between the two of you signaling his words,as he sits beside you “i-it’s complicated, and people won’t understand cause they j-just can’t think like we do, but what we have- it’s normal”

“without me to teach you all of this kid, shiit, you’d be lost” words coming out with a breathy laugh “you’d be stuck with some loser who wouldn’t know what he’s doing, leaving you all wet and needy” you nearly flinched at the way his hand traced up your thigh fingers toying around with your sensitive clit, causing you to grab his wrists

he shrugs you off with ease, fingers continuing their teasing motion “y’wouldn’t like that, would you kid” you were so so sensitive, his hands causing you to whine and squirm “n-no rafey” your words come out with a moan “yeah you see that’s why i’m here, to teach you - fill my role as a good stepbrother to you..m’kay” and before you could respond, one fingers already made its way knuckles deep into you, torturing your already worn out cunt

“now why don’t we have another lesson?”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[bpmiranda]

Uncle Logan |epilogue|

A/N: fluffy, smut, a little angst, uncle!logan x faux niece!reader, dbf!logan, age gap, breeding kink, pregnancy

There is a sick satisfaction that consumes Logan when he would empty his load into your cunt. His large hand would caress your abdomen as he kisses you, murmuring something along the lines of how good you are for him, soothing all the aches in your body from yet another intense night in his bed with soft touches and sweet words.

“You can’t do that.” You murmur, resting your hand over his and he chuckles softly, his chest vibrating against yours. “It’s mean.”

“I don’t mean to be mean, sweetheart.” He says as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Just thinking about how beautiful you’d look all round here.”

You know he doesn’t want a baby, at least that’s what he’s claimed. Not at his age and you’ve accepted it, you understand because you’re not quite sure you’re ready for a child this young. But the way he rubs your belly and continues to cum in you from time to time with the safety net of your birth control and says things like that makes you crave that which you’ve agreed would only make things more complicated. “Is this enough for you?” You ask suddenly and he gives a curious look, slowly pulling out of you and laying beside you. “Just fucking on the weekends?”

“I’d have you here during the week if you didn’t have school.” He says as you rest your head on his chest and he wraps an arm around you. “What are you trying to ask, sweet girl?” He presses, knowing you like to beat around the bush.

A small sigh leaves your lips and you sit up, bringing the sheets with you to cover your breasts as you look at him. “Do you want to marry me? Or have a family? Maybe move away from the city and out to the country?” You ask, leaning in and kissing him, trembling as his beard tickles your chin and his calloused hand lightly rubs your exposed back. “I need something a little more concrete.” You whisper.

“Is that right?” He asks, bringing you onto his lap which makes you gasp softly. Logan caressed your jaw softly as you straddle him and he lets that hand run down your exposed body. His thumb runs over your hard nipple, the other is drawing small circles into your hip as you place your hands on your thighs and let him touch you. “You have no idea how much I love you.” He says suddenly. It’s his first time saying it and you feel your belly bloat with butterflies. Your eyes water threateningly and he chuckles, clasping one rough hand on your neck and bringing you down to his lips. You kiss him hungrily, knowing he loves you makes you want him to prove it.

“You love me, Uncle Logan?” You ask, a small pout on your lips because you hope he isn’t just saying it to get you off his back or distract you from this conversation.

Logan smirks against your lips, his cock throbbing when you call him ‘Uncle Logan’ and you feel it nudging your clit. A soft moan falls from your lips and he brings you further up his lap as your slit is sitting over the underside of his cock. “You gotta stop calling me that.” He says, kissing your jaw now. “Don’t want our kid thinking he’s the product of some sick affair.” You laugh lightly, nodding as you realize that would sound odd to a child and then realizing something much more important.

You quickly pull away from him, taking his hand off your neck so he’s forced to stop kissing you and look at you. “Our kid?” You ask with a small grin.

Logan clears his throat and nods, moistening his lips as he watches the radiance on your face. “We’ll talk about it when you finish college.” He says with a finger pointing sternly at you. “Don’t you try anything before then. I’m going to make sure you keep taking those pills daily.”

Three Years Later…

Your parents are overjoyed that you’ve graduated and have earned your diploma. They have a party at their home, Logan’s invited, of course, and you’re delighted to see him there. “Congratulations, sweetheart.” He says as he hugs you tightly, appropriately while you try not to linger with him. “Open this later on.” He whispers in your ear as he hands you a small, flat box. Your cheeks warm up and you nod, thanking him as you continue to greet the guests filling up the backyard.

The party continues on its own and the drinks flow and you notice your dad and Logan laughing over drinks in a corner, the closest friends if you’ve ever seen any. It makes your heartache that your dad can’t know about you and the love of your life, but how would he possibly react? You don’t want to give him a heartache, you don’t want to ruin what is possibly the most concrete friendship either of those two men have in their lives. You feel your eyes welling up with tears and you hurry inside, sighing as you hold your hand over your heart.

You make your way into your bedroom and sit on your bed, going down every avenue in your head of what would happen if you and Logan went public with your relationship. And when there doesn’t seem to be a good path to take, you hear a light knocking on your door. “Come in.” You call, clearing your throat and wiping your eyes.

The door opens and Logan comes in with a soft smile. “Noticed you weren’t down there anymore.” He said as he closed the door behind him. You could only give him a sad smile in response and he kneeled in front of you, setting a hand on your knee and picking your chin up with the other. “What’s goin’ on, sweet girl?” You shake your head and he only insists. “Tell me, you know you’re going to, either right now or tonight when it’s just you and me.” He says with a hint of suggestiveness in his tone as he lightly kisses you. You kiss him back, your hands finding his beard through which you run your fingers, scratching his jaw and making him groan softly. “Not now, baby.”

You nod, knowing this is most definitely not the place or the time and you pull away. “That’s the problem.” You murmur and he looks at you curiously. “Will my parents be there if we decide to get married?” You ask and his eyes soften. “Will they meet their grandchild?” You feel the tears returning and he sighs, wiping them away as he wonders the same thing.

“Do you want them to?” He asks suddenly and you feel shocked. You nod slowly, a small smile gracing your pretty face and Logan knows what he’s gotta do, he’d do anything for you.

Hand in hand, as the party is dying down and your parents are saying goodbye to their final guests, you and Logan come into the kitchen. Your mom notices first, her eyes falling on your intertwined hands and she calls your father’s name. Your face is growing hot as your dad turns and looks at you and his best friend, the man that he considers a brother, holding his little girl’s hand. “What the hell is this?” He asks clearly angry, and Logan steps forward with a hand up in defense.

“Brother, just listen to me.”

They’re furious. Your father feels betrayed by Logan, he feels that you’ve been taken advantage of, but most of all, he feels at fault for sending you to live with Logan in the first place instead of taking responsibility for you like a father should and that breaks your heart. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you needed me most.” Your dad sobs and you want to run to him, but you’re not sure that you can, so your mom does. Your mom who has been so quiet and pensive while Logan explained the situation much more eloquently than you ever could have.

“Y/N,” She says in a soft voice and you look at her through teary eyes. “Why don’t you go with Logan tonight and you two can join us for breakfast in the morning when we’ve had time to process this information, yes, dear?”

So you leave.

At his apartment, you feel a weight has been lifted off you and you look at Logan as he’s undoing his tie while you’re taking off your heels. “How do you feel?” You ask while sliding your shoes under his bed and looking up at him with big, worried eyes.

Logan shrugs off his dress jacket and he smiles at you as he hangs it up. “I feel good.” He says as he sits beside you on the end of his bed, his hand rests on your thigh and he squeezes it softly. “How do you feel?” He asks.

“Better now.” You say with a warmth spreading onto your face as he kisses your cheek.

“Good,” He then pulls a the thin box out of his pants’ pocket and hands it to you. “You should open that now.” He says, tapping the box softly as it sits in your hands and you smile.

It’s a gold chain with a thin golden plate under which the word mama is engraved. Your eyes widen as you look at him and he gives you a single nod. “You still want to try?” You ask eagerly and he chuckles.

“I promised you we’d have a conversation, didn’t I?” He says.

The rest of the night is spent talking about what happens when you get pregnant. Logan proposes that you make a plan to land a job first, establish a career while you’re able to, and when he’s found the both of you a nice house to live in somewhere out in the country, you’ll try for a baby.

In the morning, you and Logan meet up with your parents. Your dad has questions, your mom is still the quietest person at the table, it makes you more nervous than your dad grilling Logan about his true intentions. “Did you always look at her that way?” Your dad asks and Logan shakes his head.

“No, I swear,” He says firmly. “It was not some premeditated predator shit. I-” Logan looks over at you and he sighs. “I didn’t mean to fall for her, believe me, I fought it.” He begins and you can’t help the little smile at the corner of your lips. “I wish it wasn’t like this, brother, I can’t express that enough. I wish it were simpler, but I love her. I’d still love her if she weren’t your daughter, I’d still love her if she were my age or older, I’d still love her if she had been born in my century.”

Finally, your mom speaks. “Logan, you’re a good man.” Her words make your heart bloat with relief and Logan shakes his head. “You are, and you’ve lived a long and tragic life, we know this.” Her hand reaches out for his and she squeezes it, hard. “You deserve to be in love and if it’s with my daughter then there’s nothing we could say or do to stop that from happening. She’s clearly in love with you too and you’ve brought out a side of her that I thought was long gone.” Her eyes water and you cry.

“I’m sorry, mom.” You sniff, standing up as she does and you hug. “I was awful to you.”

“I’d still love you if you continued to be.” She says which makes you laugh and you pull away to look at her. “Now I can’t guarantee that your dad will be all the way okay with this right now,” She puts a hand on your father’s shoulder as he simply shakes his head, staring at Logan with disdain. “But we’re not going to stop something that clearly seems to work.”

With their blessing, you and Logan are able to be together, without hiding.

A Few Years Later…

It’s been hours since you came back from the doctor, the last of Logan’s conditions. They gave you the green light, told you there were no risks in trying for a baby, that you were in perfect health. It had been hours since you returned and the moment you passed along the doctor’s notes to him, and Logan had you on the bed from that moment.

Your mouth was agape as you gasped and whined, your fingernails dragging along his broad back and shoulders as he continued fucking you slow and hard, making you feel every drag of his thick cock against your overused walls. Your eyes were blurry from the pleasure he was giving you and the tears continuously falling from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks and into your sweaty hair. Logan’s mouth was marking you, leaving hickeys on your breasts and your shoulders, gripping tightly onto your thigh which he had wrapped around his waist while his other arm held his weight over you. “You want a baby?” He asks against your neck and you whimper, nodding as your back arches from another oncoming orgasm. You know you’re pregnant by now, there’s no way his two previous loads haven’t taken, but he’s adamant on making it stick, as if this is the only chance you’ll have to fuck. “Want me to put a baby in your belly?” He asks, hand leaves your thigh and he softly pushes on your lower abdomen, groaning as he feels his cock pumping inside you. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you to the brim, sweetheart.” He says, kissing you softly as his pace becomes brutal, purposeful and you cry against his mouth while clutching tightly onto him.

“Ah!” You whimper as your orgasm crashes through every nerve in your body. Your legs shake violently as your release gushes around his cock and he growls at the feeling, the all so familiar feeling of making his girl cum. “L-Logan-n!” You cry and he simply praises you for taking his mercilessly thrusts.

“That’s it, baby,” He grunts, sitting up now on his knees and holding firmly onto your hips as he moves you along his cock as if you were some fuck doll. “I’m gonna make sure it takes, sweetheart, gonna make it nice and easy for you.” He says, his body jolting as he feels his load spurt out into you and he quickly presses the head of his cock to your cervix, determined to get his seed as deep inside you as possible and you sob from the feeling of him pulsing against you.

Logan’s panting over you, rubbing your hips in a soothing manner as he watches you breathe heavily underneath him. Your gaze is on him, half-lidded eyes telling him you can’t possibly take anymore, and while any other time he’d make you anyway, he just wants to hold you now. His arms snakes around your waist protectively as he settles behind you and you sigh as you feel his warm chest press to your back. “I love you, Logan.” You whisper, kissing his knuckles softly before intertwining your fingers with his own.

“I love you, mama.” He says, kissing your shoulder and he rubs your belly as he feels you grow heavy in his hold while you drift off to sleep. He holds your hand around which the golden bracelet he gave you is clasped on your wrist and he smiles to himself.

Two Weeks Later…

Logan’s standing in front of the mirror in your shared bedroom, tying his tie as he gets ready for work when you come into the bedroom with a smile. A smile that tells him you know something he doesn’t and he raises an eyebrow curiously at you through the mirror. “Something on your mind, sweetheart?” He asks and you bite your bottom lip, grinning as you nod. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.” He chuckles, finishing with his tie and turning to look at you.

“I missed my period.” You announce and he stares at you, a small smirk curling the corner of his lips as he looks at your belly.

“Is that right?” He asks, walking over to you and gathering you in his arms, holding you tightly as he kisses your neck and makes you laugh. “Sweetheart, I’ve gotta go now, but I want you to take a test for me, okay?” You nod and he sighs, wishing he could stay with you, wishing he could make certain you were pregnant right now.

When he returns from work, he’s eager to get through the threshold of your home, eager to see you and talk to you about what your next plans will be, and he stops dead in his tracks as he barges into your bedroom and sees you sitting on the bed. You’re wearing a cute little set of lingerie and you’ve got a pregnancy test lying beside you. You smile as you hand him the test when he comes to stand over you and he reads it, peering at the small screen through his reading glasses.

Pregnant, it says in small bold letters and he looks at you, taking his glasses off and setting them and the pregnancy test on the nightstand. “We better make sure you stay that way, huh?” He teases, making you laugh as he climbs over you and peppers your neck with kisses, his beard tickling your skin as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

Nine Months Later…

Logan watches in awe as your little infant sleeps soundly in your arms, his tiny head pressed to your bare skin, drooling, while he makes sure you’re comfortable in bed. “Is that good?” He asks, fluffing your pillow and kissing the top of your head.

“Perfect.” You smile, reaching up and caressing his beard, your thumb moving over his bottom lip before you guide him down to you for a kiss. “Thank you for being so calm during everything.” You say, leaning your forehead against his and he smiles.

“Thank you for bringing our son into the world.” He said, gently laying his large hand over the little boy’s head and caressing his soft scalp, a deep and relieved sigh leaving his chest.

This is what Logan wanted, all those centuries on his own, and he doesn’t plan on letting it go anytime soon now that he’s finally found it.

🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @pinkanonwriting @captain039 @fictionalmen-dilflover @shybluebirdninja @virgoxfa1ry @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @am-3-thyst @oooof-ifellforyou @ghxstiie @theoraekenslover @iloveelvis @obsessed-oops @wolvndmouth @imtherain

[mechaknight-98]

The hounds of Apophis (NSFW) FT Sakura Miyawaki and Jihyo

Author’s Notes: The finale of my Sakura series. I will definitely still be writing her but this continuity with Daigo is Done. I may write one shots later but for now Sakura, Jihyo and Daigo’s story is Complete.

Daigo woke up to the sound of doors knocking. He sighed and got up to answer it after putting his pants on. Reborn was at the door.

“It’s time to go home,” he said. Daigo nodded and turned to the bedroom. Despite knowing that he should go back, he felt himself longing to stay here with Kura and Jihyo. “Oh fuck,” he thought to himself, realizing he already had a nickname for her. Daigo sighed and turned back to Reborn.

“Okay,” he said, saddened. Reborn chuckled and said, “You know you can have all of this if you just go back and take it.” Daigo nodded. He took out his phone and stared at the photo of him, Kura, and Jihyo all together.

As he got ready to leave, Kura and Jihyo woke up, curious about the commotion.

“Where are you going, Daigo?” Kura asked, on high alert.

“Back 10 years ago, where hopefully we can be together again.” Jihyo and Kura both gave worried looks.

“Can’t you stay?” Jihyo asked, saddened. Daigo pondered his choices before saying, “I gotta go home. My breeding bitch has been left alone long enough.” Both Jihyo and Kura began to cry, and Daigo walked over to them.

“Hey, don’t cry. If everything goes well, we’ll be together ten years as opposed to one day,” he said as he wiped their tears. The two ladies smiled, and Daigo said, “See you yesterday,” before heading out with Reborn.

On the way back, Daigo’s longing turned into incandescent rage as he pondered the life Tobi had taken from him. His heart was heavy as lead. When they arrived back outside his apartment 10 years previously (four days later from his present), he was shocked to see Kura waiting for him with Jihyo.

He opened the door, and the girls looked at him, shocked. Kura cried and ran to him. She held him tight before screaming, “Where were you?”

“Would you believe ten years in the future?” Daigo said, and Kura rolled her eyes.

Jihyo's thoughts raced as she sat beside Kura. She watched Daigo interact with Kura, feeling a pang of jealousy mixed with admiration. She found herself admiring Daigo’s quiet strength and determination. His willingness to fight for what he believed in drew her to him. But it wasn’t just Daigo she found herself drawn to. Kura's unwavering loyalty and fierce protectiveness captivated her as well.

As she watched Kura cry and embrace Daigo, Jihyo's heart fluttered. She had always felt a connection with Kura, one that was different from her feelings for Daigo. There was something about Kura's fiery spirit and tender heart that made Jihyo’s heart race.

Jihyo sighed inwardly. She knew her feelings were complicated. She was falling for both Daigo and Kura and the realization both thrilled and terrified her. As Daigo comforted them, Jihyo found herself wishing she could hold onto this moment forever, with both of them by her side.

As they sat there together, the weight of all of their feelings and uncertain futures hung in the air. Jihyo's thoughts spiraled, imagining a world where they could all be together without the looming threats and heartbreak. She bit her lip, pushing away the daydream. Reality was far from her fantasies, but she couldn’t help but hope.

Daigo’s words brought her back to the present. She met his gaze, feeling a spark.

When she lets go the trio sit down together. Uncontrollably Daigo looks at Jihyo with a hunger that Kura recognizes. It infuriates her but for some reason also feels natural like she’s madly jealous but also okay with it. The look only lasts for a micro instant but it was still noticeable.

“Um, Mrs Park how can I help you?” Daigo asked trying to regain his composure. Jihyo had spaced out as that hungry look he gave almost made her tear open her clothes and demand he fuck her right now.

“Mrs Park?” Daigo repeated

“Um yeah, I was here for Sakura because Sana couldn’t come.”

There was a heat in the room between the trio that threatened to consume them all. Kura felt it for Jihyo and Daigo. Jihyo felt it for Kura and Daigo. Daigo felt it for Kura and Jihyo.

They sat silently for a few moments, hoping this heat and arousal would dissipate but it didn’t. It only grew. Sakura moaned uncontrollably as her core told her to fuck Jihyo and Daigo, but why was she feeling this. She could tell her stud was also under this spell between them. Jihyo took off her sweater as she was starting to sweat too much. Kura’s Jihyo and Daigo’s eyes all wandered each other unapologetic. They drank in each other’s bodies as fantasies of indulging filled each of their minds. Sakura imagined sucking on Jihyo's tits while her stud rammed her from behind. Jihyo imagined both worshiping her body while Daigo imagined a cute date between the three of them.

Before fantasizing turned into action, the doorbell rang. Daigo went to get it. It was Tobi. Daigo’s flame rose instantly as he tensed, but he kept a cool head as he spoke to Tobi.

“What brings you here?” Daigo asked.

Tobi looked behind Daigo and saw Kura and Jihyo, who waved politely. “Oh, just wanted to see if you’re alone.”

What a pathetic excuse, Daigo thought, feeling a surge of annoyance. Does he think he can fool me that easily?

Tobi smirked inwardly. Always pretending to care, Daigo, he thought. As if you believe anyone would want to see you alone.

Daigo responded politely, “I am not, but we can talk outside for a bit.”

Tobi smiled as he said, “Oh, that would be great.”

Great? Hardly. But I’ll play along for now, Tobi mused internally, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Daigo nodded and turned back to his apartment. “Cool… Hey, Kura, and Ji, I’m going to talk to Tobi for a few seconds. I’ll be right back.”

Stay calm, Daigo reminded himself. I need to keep them safe.

Sakura nodded, then said, “Okay, hurry back so we can order food.”

Daigo nodded and walked outside with Tobi. Jihyo gave a cute and exaggerated thumbs-up as only she could.

Idiots, Tobi thought as he followed Daigo. They have no idea who they’re dealing with.

Once outside, Tobi smiled and said, “Okay, so I know we got off on the wrong foot…”

Daigo put his hand up. “I know you’re trying to kill me.”

Tobi went pale as all his planning fell apart without so much as a warning. He watched Daigo carefully as he continued his speech, “Look, I would rather not fight you, but please be aware if you continue down this path, I will wipe out you and your entire clan. Regardless of whatever weapon you have to beat me.”

This can’t be happening, Tobi thought, feeling a cold sweat break out. How does he know? He gulped and said, “Why should I trust you?”

“Because if I am ever forcibly taken from those girls again, I will eliminate any obstacle to get back to them. They are mine as much as I am theirs.”

He looks so pathetic, Daigo thought, seeing the fear in Tobi’s eyes. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Tobi’s mask fell off as he looked at Daigo with disdain and amusement. He believes he owns them, Tobi thought, barely suppressing a laugh.

“How did you find out?”

“Your last name on your ID.”

A sloppy mistake on your part, Daigo thought. It would help if you had been more careful.

Tobi cursed internally, slapping himself. “Of course! So you know what happens next, right?” he replied.

Daigo nodded. “But it’s up to you. Do you feel like dying today?”

Do I feel like dying? Tobi thought, rage bubbling up inside him. Not today, Daigo. But your day is Today.

Bring it on, Daigo thought, ready for whatever Tobi might try next. I’ll protect them no matter what.

He grabbed Daigo and using a warp bomb threw him into a portal to his clan's hideout. Daigo side as he was thrown through the portal. Daigo rolled on the floor before recovering.

"You don't own Kura!" Tobirama said furiously.

Daigo rolled his eyes and said, "Is that what you think?" before taking out his Knife and revolver. Daigo laughed before being surrounded by 6 ninjas.

Tobirama laughed and said, "Your funeral."

The first five ninjas attacked and Daigo dodged and shot three of them with his revolver taking them out. Another ran at him with a short sword. He dodged and got grazed by the blade. Before landing a fatal blow on their neck. Tobirama watched before taking out the Spear of Finality. The very same one was wielded by the legendary Oda Nobunaga.

"This is where you die," Tobirama said laughing maniacally. Daigo sighed before dismissing his weapons and facing Tobi with bare fists. Daigo ran to Tobirama before tackling him, and knocking the weapon out of his hands. He slammed his elbow into Tobirama's nose before he picked him up and kicked him through a wall. Tobi rolled in pain. He got up and threw a wild haymaker. He dodged and slammed Tobi to the ground then stomped on his head until nothing was left.

He looked to the rest of the ninjas and shrugged, before taking one of their warp bombs and going back home.

Sakura and Jihyo waited patiently for Daigo. They wondered what he could be talking to Tobi about when the door opened again. It was Daigo covered in scrapes bruises and dried blood. Kura and Jihyo's protective instincts rose to see him in this state. As they ran to him to ask what happened. he said, "Wait. I am going to shower then I will explain everything." The two girls nodded, as they followed him to the showers.

He looked at both of them confused. "Um," Daigo said before both girls brought him in for a sloppy three-way kiss. Overwhelmed at the affection Daigo was unsure what to do or how to process his current emotional state, so he let the girls lead the way. Daigo started the bath water before sitting on his toilet numb. He washed some of the blood off his hands so he could put his hands on his face.

"Tobirama is dead," he said after several minutes. Kura looked at him terrified before asking how.

"He was going to kill me so I killed him and six of his clan I believe."

"Why would he do that?" Jihyo asked.

"Because he thinks that I think I "own" Sakura so he was doing this as a means to free her from me," Daigo explained. Kura looked at Daigo's haggard face for any signs of jokes but didn't find any. He could barely keep his eyes open. Kura sighed then joined in as Jihyo and her leaned in for tight hugs. Daigo accepted their affection and said, "I am glad the two of you came."

"So what happens now?" Jihyo asked interested.

"Um we move into together," Kura suggested.

Daigo and Jihyo looked at each other and shrugged. "I am okay with it if you are." Jihyo nodded. Then they all found themselves in a less sloppy but still very passionate three-way kiss.

"Much better Jihyo cooed. Daigo yawned before entering the bath. He rinsed off all the blood and grime before falling asleep. Kura and Jihyo watched with appreciative smiles. They let him sleep. as they went out to his "Balcony"

Jihyo found Sakura sitting on the balcony, enjoying the evening breeze. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped out to join her. Sakura looked up and smiled, patting the seat next to her.

"Hey, Ji. What's up?" Sakura asked, her voice warm and inviting.

Jihyo sat down, fiddling with the hem of her dress. "I wanted to talk to you about something. About Daigo."

Sakura's smile softened. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

Jihyo took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. "I guess… I'm trying to understand my place in all of this. You and Daigo have such a strong connection, and sometimes I feel a bit lost."

Sakura nodded, her eyes thoughtful. "I understand. It can be confusing. But you're an important part of us, Jihyo. Daigo cares about you a lot."

Jihyo smiled, feeling a bit reassured. "I know he does. It's just that this feels super sudden like I feel like I'm intruding on what you two have. Like, I'm the newcomer trying to fit into something already perfect, but I can't help this attraction I feel for the both of you."

Sakura reached out and took Jihyo's hand. "You're not intruding at all. Daigo and I might have a history, but that doesn't make our connection any more important than what we have with you. I think I can speak for him when I say we all feel the same way about each other. Relationships aren't about hierarchy; they're about balance and respect."

Jihyo squeezed Sakura's hand, feeling a warmth spread through her. "How do you do it? How do you handle sharing your love with someone else?"

Sakura chuckled softly. "It's not always easy. But I've learned that love isn't a limited resource. The more you share it, the more it grows. And seeing Daigo happy with you makes me happy too. I also love being with you so in all of this I have no issue. We all complement each other."

Jihyo nodded, absorbing Sakura's words. "I want to be a good partner to both of you. I want to find my place without feeling like I'm taking away from either of you."

"You already are a good partner, Jihyo," Sakura said gently. "Just be yourself. Communicate with us, and let us know how you're feeling. We'll work through it together. Daigo loves you, and I do too. We're a team."

Jihyo smiled, a sense of belonging settling over her. "Thank you, Kura. I needed to hear that."

Sakura leaned in and gave Jihyo a warm hug. "Anytime, Ji. We're in this together, all of us."

"One last question. Is Daigo going to come home beat up like that all the time?" she said worriedly. Sakura turned to Jihyo, and then towards the bathroom.

"He shouldn't but you know, being leaders of these massive underground empires you're bound to make some enemies, but Daigo is pretty good about being good. From what I have heard about him not many have issues with him." Sakura replied.

Jihyo nodded reassured.

"It's weird because it feels like we have been together forever but this is like Day one of our relationships," Jihyo said.

Sakura nodded. They stayed out for a few moments and then walked back into the apartment. They went looking for Daigo and found him in his bed sound asleep and clean. They smiled before nestling in with him. Daigo was stirred awake. as the two ladies smothered him.

"Ignore us and go back to sleep," Jihyo said

Sakura nodded and said, "Yeah! You have been through a lot get some rest," Daigo nodded and then went back to sleep. As he did he said. "I love you two." The girls smiled and nestled closer to him.

Several hours later the trio woke up. Daigo looked at his paramours with a happy smile. He gave them each a tight hug before getting up.

8 months later.

Daigo entered his new apartment with a quiet appreciation. He got home early since Kura and Ji had longer schedules. So he decided to make dinner for both of his girls. He decided on a simple Ramyeon that both would love. As he was finishing dicing the veggies, and meat he was waiting for the water to boil when the door opened. Jihyo walked in cheery as always. She breathed in the smell of home, and Ramyeon before turning to Daigo.

She smiled in a sultry but also happy tone she said, "How is mommy's good boy?" Daigo smiled before replying

"Aish cut it out I haven't even finished dinner yet." Jihyo smiled brightly. She approached her stud with a sexy casualness that she knew would bring him closer to what she wanted.

"What if I don't?" she said as her hand crossed his shoulder before stopping at his chest. Daigo's breath was heavy, but he remained firm.

"Nope let me finish Dinner first then we can talk. Go get showered you stink." Daigo said. Jihyo's eyes narrowed as she watched her stud resist his impulses, but knew what would get him.

"Fine," she said as she stripped her clothes right in front of him before going to the shower. Daigo heaved as he watched her walk out. He refocused on finishing dinner somehow, but his urges were getting to him. As he finished up dinner Sakura walked in with a chaste smile despite being so pent up from work and idol life. She needed her stud to rail her so she couldn't walk.

"Hey stud," she said as she walked in. Her voice held a familiar need to it that Daigo had yet to be able to resist and with all of Jihyo's priming. The beast came out. Without saying a word he grabbed Kura and ripped off her clothes before spreading her legs on their table. He undid his pants belt and took out his raging cock.

"Whoa, stud I. Oh Fuck." Sakura moaned as Daigo entered her. She could see his eyes glaze over in a familiar lust. Sakura just let herself give in the pleasure. Daigo thrusts into her furiously as Kura moans out. Jihyo intrigued by the sounds stops her luxurious bath and makes her way where she sees a feral Daigo fucking Kura relentlessly. Kura looks over at Jihyo and beckons her to come over. Jihyo was already naked and her dripping pussy ached. She walked behind Daigo and caressed his chest. Daigo came back for a moment dizzy. Jihyo and Sakura smiled before saying.

"Let's take this to the bedroom." Daigo nodded. as the two breeding bitches led him to their shared love nest. His vision was still foggy so he needed some help. When they got into the bedroom Kura and Daigo stripped before both pounced on Jihyo. They each took a side of her body Daigo on the left and Kura on the right. They devoured their paramour's tits while kneading her ass before they took turns fingering her until Jihyo couldn't take it anymore.

"Fuck me stud! fill me with that cock and breed me like the bitch I am." Kura smiled as she guided Daigo who was now completely gone to her pussy. She smiled as she watched him bottom out.

"Fuck why are you always so tight Ji?" Daigo bemoaned as he felt himself bottom out in her. Jihyo sighed before clawing into Daigo. He received the message and pounded her. Jihyo moaned until she quickly came to orgasm. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she tried to milk him for all he was worth. When her body finally came down. Daigo turned to Sakura. Sakura and Daigo's bodies moved instinctively close to each other. He grabbed his bitch's body and bent her over before impaling her. Kura moaned over Jihyo who watched as she fingered herself. Daigo kept his thrusts up as he tore into her insides. Kura loved every bit of it.

"That's its stud claim my pussy. ruin me." Kura moaned and Daigo complied. he grabbed her soft perky ass and gripped tightly as he pounded relentlessly into her cunt. Their fluids dripped onto Jihyo below who watched with ardorous glee.

Kura began to feel Daigo's cock pulse and knew he was close. So she flipped on top of him and said, "Let me ride this evil cock. This cock that reduces you to nothing more than an animal." Kura said as she rode him. Her years of dancing paid off as her hips rolled and rutted into his delaying his release to be in sync with hers. When she couldn't take anymore she said. "Okay stud breed you bitch." knowing his triggers Sakura smiled lustfully when Daigo exploded into her. As the couple fucked themselves through their orgasm Jihyo smiled at Kura and Daigo. Kura smiled at Daif and Jihyo. Daigo smiled at Jihyo and Kura before they all shared one big three-way kiss. The moment was surpsignly chaste despite what transpired moments ago.

"Okay, that took the edge off. Now let's eat." Sakura says hungry. Daigo and Jihyo follow her into the kitchen.

[weirdrandomtina]

Poppy character development appreciation post!

In Branch's old pod, when Poppy says he can talk to her, she pays full attention, never takes her eyes off him, and when he hesitates she continues to smile patiently. In World Tour, while he's trying to talk to her, she has her back to him and is focusing on watering the flowers, and when he hesitates, she only half pays attention.

When a friendly but random stranger picks up Branch who is clearly not liking to be thrown around, Poppy doesn't laugh about it or go along with it. And instead of saying politely, "hey, excuse me, could you please put him down", she literally snaps at JD, "STOP, PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW". (and of course she refers to Branch as her boyfriend🥰)

"JD is only here because he needs something". When JD confirms that's true, Poppy could've said, "Nah, there's more to it than that", and JD could've said, "Yeah, Floyd's in danger..." and Poppy would've gone "See, told you..." Instead, she gives JD a deadpan look and says flatly, "C'mon, I'm trying here." Again, blunt and not Queen Poppy's usual giddy politeness.

Poppy wants to hear the full story of how she and Viva got separated, whereas before Poppy would've accepted Viva's vague explanation like, "Oh well, we're together now, everything's cupcakes and rainbows!" Now, Poppy recognizes Viva is changing the subject to avoid discussing negative feelings, and thanks to Branch, Poppy now knows that sugarcoating everything is not the way to deal with your problems. Also, Poppy is patient and gentle with Viva - she understands this is a sensitive / painful topic for her sister, and isn't pestering, "C'mon, tell me, tell me, I gotta know!"

In Trolls 1, when Cloud Guy teases Branch who clearly is not amused, Poppy laughs despite the life or death situation they're in. In Trolls 3, when JD teases Branch about wearing a smaller diaper, Poppy doesn't find it funny and doesn't say something like "Oh, come on, Branch, just go with it, have fun!"

When Branch tells Poppy he didn't need his brothers growing up and doesn't need them now, Poppy doesn't object or try to convince him to go back and make it work with them anyway. She just follows him, supporting him in the way he needs: being there for him no matter what. Since things didn't work out with Viva, Poppy realized family is indeed complicated.

When Poppy stops Branch from walking away, she doesn't only say, "I've always been by your side, give me some credit". She says how they've been by each other's sides. She didn't get annoyed that he implied she'll leave him, because she sees now that he's afraid of losing her like he lost his brothers and his grandma. She tells him she's not going anywhere in a sincere tone, not being silly or dismissive.

At Mount Rageous, Branch is the one taking the lead / making the plans while Poppy supports it and follows his lead. She isn't being reckless with Branch blindly following along, and she isn't making light of the situation (like in the first movie she scrapbooks his plan. Also, her 'plan' is to 'rescue everyone and make it home safely', which Branch points out is not a plan. Now she's helping him formulate an actual plan). When trying to get onto the yacht, she asks Branch, "What do we do?" She now is willing to listen to him and respects that he can be a leader, not just her.

Poppy very bluntly points out Velvet/Veneer's bad behaviour. No trying to justify it, no trying to change their minds with kind words and catchy songs, no asking nicely to let Brozone go - she screams that their phonies in front of a massive crowd, and the way she's angrily pacing tells me she wanted to say something worse. A huge change from Movie 1 and Movie 2 Poppy.

The protective-hand-reaching forward thing that Branch has always done to Poppy - she did to him!

BONUS - development from both Branch and Poppy: when she goes on her sister rant and he snaps her out of it, he starts shouting her name then softens, while she realizes what she's doing, snaps out of it, instantly calms down and gets to the point.

Here are some other great Poppy development posts I came across:

[chuuyasheaven]

♡ Everything for you, my love. (pt 2) ♡

Tags: Chuuya Nakahara / afab! Reader, sexting?, sending nudes, Reader's a bit drunk, Husband! Chuuya, EVERYTHING IS CONSENTED, rough sex?, pet names (doll, baby, angel, sweetheart), praising (afab! receiving), spanking (like once), birthday sex, slight teasing, overstimulation?, Reader's wearing lingerie+thighs highs (also has thick thighs), dumbification?, might contain grammar errors, rushed, etc.

Notes: I WANT NEED HIM TO DO THIS TO ME 😔

It really sucked that your husband, Chuuya, had to work, especially on your birthday! He said that he won't have to tomorrow, but you needed him. What's a birthday without him fucking you dumb? You thought about asking him to leave early, but knowing he'll won't. Then you came up with something else. .

You: Hey Chuuya Chuuya: Hey You: I miss you, can't you come home early? :( Chuuya: I wish i could, I'm really sorry, baby. I swear when I come home we can celebrate your birthday You: When will you come home tho? Chuuya: I don't really know, 9pm? You: But that's way too long! Chuuya: I know, I'm sorry I'll try to hurry up okay? You: Alright, let me send something to make it better! ;) *3 attachments sent*

When Chuuya clicked on the photos, his eyes widened. Three photos of you in black laced lingerie with matching thigh highs, all in three different angles. You were lucky he was in his office, anyone could've seen these if he wasn't careful enough!

Chuuya: Are you really gonna do this to me? You: Can't I send you some selfies? Chuuya: I'll be home soon, you better prepare yourself.

You put your phone next to you, waiting for him to arrive. You started feeling excited, thinking about how he would fuck the living daylights out of you. After waiting for two hours, you heard the door open, footsteps making their way to you. Just as you sat up, Chuuya walked through your bedrooms door. He kept on walking until he stood before you, grabbing your chin to make you look at him. "So you could've come home sooner?", you asked in a teasing tone. "It's complicated, but it's not important right now.", Chuuya said, letting go off your chin to pull you on your feet. Chuuya then smashed his lips against yours, his hands now sliding down to your waist.

Separating from eachother, Chuuya continues to speak. "Couldn't my wife wait for me to come home?", he teased, you giggled before responding. "Chuuya, it's my birthday. What kind of birthday would it be if I wasn't spending it with my husband?", Chuuya chuckled before sitting down onto your shared bed, patting his lap as a signal for you to sit down. As you did, he stroked your hair gently, kissing you again. From kissing you deeper, he tasted some light wine in your breath. After the make out session, his hand made it's way to your thighs. "You look so fuckin' beautiful, doll,", he said.

His hand slid down to your black laced panties, playing with your cunt through your panties. Your breath got heavier as he got you wetter than you were before. "You're already wet?", Chuuya asked with a smirk on his face. Your hands made it down to his belt, trying to unbuckle it. When his belt was unbuckled, you then removed everything else in the way until you got his dick out. Before you can fuck yourself on it, he wanted you to beg first. "Nuh uh. You gotta ask nicely first, sweetheart.", you groan in slight frustration before doing what he said. "Please, Chuuya. . I need you so bad right now.", all he did was nod while pushing your panties to the side. You put it inside you and whimpered at the feeling of stretching you out.

Waiting a bit for it to adjust, Chuuya kissed you again. "Now ride me like a good girl, alright, baby?", you nodded, starting to move your hips trying to find a rhythm. His hands on your hips guiding you how to move. As soon you got a steady rhythm, you started to whimper louder while Chuuya was grunting softly. "S–shit, keep going, doll. .",you sped up a little when you suddenly felt a spank on your ass. "Who's a good girl f'me, hm?", you got even more turned on because of the spank when another one was heard. "Answer my question, baby. Who's being a good girl right now?", "Me, I–i am!", you choked out. It wasn't long until you came around him, gushing around his cock as he came inside you.

You were trying to calm down before Chuuya easily picked up and laid you onto the bed. He took off your panties and threw them somewhere. "I can't let the birthday girl do all the work, now can I?", Chuuya slid inside you and waited a few seconds before moving, when you adjusted again, he started to thrust into you. His pace was slow and rough, his grunts becoming more audible. Your whimpers turned into moans now, which were music to Chuuya's ears. He got faster, picking up both of your legs and positioned them on his shoulders, resulting him to fuck into you deeper. You already felt your second orgasm near, chanting his name like an prayer. "You're doin' so good— fuck. . so pretty for me, aren't you, angel?", he praised you again.

"Chuuya, 'm close— ah!", you tried to warn him but he kept on thrusting into you, needing you to gush around his dick once more. "You wanna cum? You wanna cum around my cock again, huh?", at this point you weren't able to talk right now. "Tell me, who was being good tonight?", you tried to really answer but all what left your mouth were only either his name or moans. "C'mon, I know you can say it. I haven't fucked you dumb now, have I, sweetheart?", "N–no,", you managed to respond. "See? Let me ask again, who was my good girl tonight?", you took in some heavy breaths trying to concentrate. "I–it's me. .", you answered him, he smirked before cumming inside you and you came around his cock again.

"Do you want me to continue going or wanna go take a bath? It's up to you, baby."

HOPE YOU ENJOYED BCS THIS TOOK ME A LONGGG TIME !! :)

[hazbinshusk]

husk x reader. requested by @jazziesanura. husk might be part feline, but his bird-like traits affect him too. so when the object of his affection is around, ever so occasionally, he finds himself singing.

featuring: 1.2k of pure fluff and a bashful husk being a gentleman.

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

There were countless reasons you liked to linger in the lobby rather than up in your room, despite the chance of being enlisted in any number of tasks by the owner of the Hazbin Hotel. You’d hung more celebratory banners than you cared to count, but still, you often spent your time curled up on one of the lobby sofas with a book or one of Charlie’s latest art projects in your lap.

Sometimes the reason you preferred it was the endless entertainment provided by Niffty’s endless war on bugs.

Sometimes it was that Angel would grace you with his presence before work and you’d find yourselves swapping overly salacious stories that would make the spider demon cackle with joy.

Occasionally Pentious would slither downstairs in order to introduce you to his latest complicated creation, and sometimes his little eggs would find themselves in a turf war with Razzle and Dazzle and you’d be in tears trying not to laugh as you separated them.

But – even though you wouldn’t admit it aloud – there really was one real reason you liked to stay in the lobby.

Because every now and then, if you were lucky…

Husk would sing.

When the bar was empty and the other guests and staff were elsewhere, occasionally you’d hear the soft tenor of Husk’s voice ebb out to fill the space between you. He never sang very loud, just a soft crooning to himself as he polished glassware or wiped down the polished wood in front of him. It would just barely reach your ears, but it relaxed you and filled you with the most addictive feeling of butterflies all at the same time.

The strangest thing about it was, whenever you asked those who also spent time alone with him, no one else had ever noticed him sing.

“What song is that?”

You’d broken your own rule about interrupting him, and you cursed yourself silently as Husk stopped mid-lyric, letting out a small ‘wrrr’ of surprise as he looked up. He looked startled, even embarrassed by the question, pale pink blooming across his muzzle.

You grimaced apologetically as you stood up. “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” he replies gruffly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Still, you notice his tail twitch almost warily behind him.

“It’s nice,” you continue gently. When his brows furrow you explain, “The song. It’s pretty.”

“Oh.” Husk clears his throat, setting the glass he was holding down on the counter. “You, uh… you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

***

Your smile is softened by the alcohol buzzing in your brain, and you lean your temple on your hand. Husk’s own lips are tilted in a similar smile as he pours the two of you fresh glasses of something he calls a ‘rusty nail’. It burns pleasantly down your throat and against your lips, and Husk hums approvingly as you toss back half the glass.

“Gotta say, sweetness, I never figured you’d be able to handle the booze as well as you do.” he notes, pouring the dregs from the shaker into your glass. “’s impressive.”

“’s not all I can handle,” you reply without thinking, and your face burns.

Husk blinks at you, eyes wide, for a moment before he coughs a laugh, shaking his head. His voice lowers and softens when he speaks next, and it send the warmth from your cheeks down to pool in your stomach. “I don’t doubt it.”

He holds your gaze for a long moment, an amused tilt to his lips, before you glance away again to take another sip of your drink. You clear your throat, trying to find a way to change the subject. You couldn’t let yourself focus on the way his expression, his tone of voice, was making you feel.

“So, uh… you gonna tell me what that song was?”

Husk glances down at the bar, rubbing a paw through the fur of his neck. “’s nothing. Just an old… ‘s nothing.”

“I liked it,” you tell him gently, your glass held just below your lips. “I always like it when you sing.”

Husk grimaces bashfully. “You hear that?”

You nod, still smiling. Maybe it’s the alcohol that loosens your tongue, maybe it’s the way that even though his tone is embarrassed, his eyes are watching your every reaction so carefully. Maybe it’s just being with him but you simply admit: “It’s my favorite thing.”

Hush flushes, dithering uncertainly for a moment before he meets your eye again. He studies your face, your expression, and your sincerity before he throws back the rest of his drink and sets the glass back on the counter. Husk rounds the bar and with a moment of hesitation, holds out a paw to you.

“C’mon.”

You raise a brow but take it, letting him pull you gently off the bar stool and lead you towards the middle of the lobby. He turns to face you, your hand still enclosed in his. His other hand comes up to hover near your waist and those butterflies swirl inside you again dizzyingly.

“…Can I?”

You nod slowly, confused, and a thrill runs through you as he touches your hip. His hand smooths over it to let his claws curl carefully against the sliver of skin between your shirt and the waistband of your jeans, and you release a shaking breath. He gives you a small, bashful smile, stepping closer to you, and his smile widens slightly despite himself when your breath catches.

“Relax,” he tells you softly, and when your free hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, he leads you into a slow, surprisingly graceful movement that’s something akin to a waltz.

His body is warm against yours and your fingers curl in the soft fur on his bicep, threading carefully through the silky hair. He hums a quiet tune for a few moments, leading you along with it, and you find yourself settling into his embrace as he begins to sing.

“I ran around with my own little crowd,

The usual laughs, not often but loud.

And in the world that I knew,

I didn’t know about you.”

His voice is honeyed and warm in your ear, his touch tingling against your back and against your palm. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue, feeling as though you’ve been dipped directly into the melted caramel of his sweet tenor.

“Chasing after the rain

On the merry-go-round.

Just taking my fun

Where it could be found.

And yet what else could I do?

I didn’t know about you.”

You hesitate for a moment before releasing his hand to wrap your arms around his neck, letting your fingers twine in the fur at the back of his head. Husk’s hands take hold of your hips, sliding around to interlock against the small of your back. You hear him swallow, his voice shaking slightly as he begins the next verse.

“Darling, now I know,

I had the loneliest yesterday,

Everyday in your arms

I know for once in my life I’m living.

Had a good time every time I went out,

Romance was a thing I kidded about.

How could I know about love?

I didn’t know about you.”

Husk pulls back slightly, meeting your gaze with hooded eyes. The two of you are just swaying now, locked together in an embrace you never want to end. There’s an almost rueful curve to his lips.

“I didn’t know about you.”

.

Author's note: for those interested, the song is I Didn't Know About You by Duke Ellington. If you would like to hear a masculine voice singing it (although sadly not Husk's), I'd personally recommend Seth MacFarlane's version. It's absolutely beautiful.

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

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

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

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

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

masterlist with next parts!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

Simple as that.

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

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

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

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

You: Bummer. Sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

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

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

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

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

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

Until his eyes landed on you.

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

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

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

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

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

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

That voice.

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

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

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

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

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

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, tin can man!"

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

“Give up yet, old man?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New York City

December 15, 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, he hasn’t changed his mind. 

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

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

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

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

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

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

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

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

•••

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

You: I'm here, tonto. 

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love it,” you tell him.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweet dreams.” 

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

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

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

“Here, try this one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please do.”  

•••

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

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what?” Pedro interrupts. 

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

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

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

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

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

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

He's still up, you thought. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I have some rules, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can cum now.”

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

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

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

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

“Don't get cocky.”

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

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

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.” 

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“More, please, I need more."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” 

You chuckle, “Leaving.” 

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

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

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.” 

“Pedro, we said—"

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

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

“Okay, I'll stay.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Espero que te guste.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-faster, please,”

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

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

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

“Can I wash your hair?” 

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will come with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pedro.”

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

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

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

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

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

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

[successfulgoddess333]

THINK YOU THE SH💩T BITCH,YOU NOT EVEN DA FART💨

THIS IS YOU TO THE OLD MINDSET!

Don’t hate the 3D

It’s an assumption bitch!

That same assumption caused by your OWN THOUGHTS

Which take place in your 4D

The 3D is a result

Of the 4D and the 4D is your consciousness your mind

CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS

If you don’t want

👇🏾

4D-“ My life is so hard I’m such a failure!”

*Two years later*

“I know about manifesting so why hasn’t anything changed!!!!”

3D-“ight bet”

*Ten years later*

*YOU LIVING THE SAME FUCK ASS LIFE YOU WERE AFRAID TO LIVE BECAUSE YOUR ASS WOULD NOT PERSIST*

☝🏾

So if you don’t want what’s up there

CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS

When your assumptions about the 4D changes the 3D changes

DO YOU NOT SEE THE PATTERN

YOU ARE THE REASON

THAT EVERYTHING WORKS OUT

OR YOU COULD BE THE REASON THAT EVERYTHING DOESN’T

Some of you like I was

Are too afraid to get your desires because you’ve chosen the assumption of failure over the assumption of success

Reason being is because you’re comfortable you may not be comfortable to yourself you may want out but if your doing nothing to prove you want OUT then your comfortable you like living like this knowing about manifestation the void shifting etc but not taking action is like saying you love your partner but never being there for them or saying you love yourself but continuing to allow people to abuse and hurt your self confidence

You have found comfort in being uncomfortable because being uncomfortable is all you know and it’s the only thing that makes you comfortable

YIKES

I know I touched some people with this

Trust me I use to be JUST like YOU

So if you don’t want this

CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS

Imma keep screaming at you til you do!

4D-“ Yo I look good today and nobody’s gonna tell me I look anybody cuz I’m pretty”

3D- ight,bet

4D-“I’m rich life is easy the void is within me”

NOTICE HOW THE 3D CONTINUES TO RESPOND THE SAME WAY

Because it’s simply a RESULT

If you took a test

You’re gonna use your mind thats full of knowledge to get a good result right?

So USE YOUR MIND

Your 4D USE IT!!

It’s not hard babe

It’s you

You created the void

You over complicate something you made?

If you made a school exam

You’d make it easy right????

For you and for others

So you created the void already

You have the rules

YOU MADE IT EASY

So why assume it’s hard?

You’re contradicting yourself

If you could use your mind to daydream you could use it to manifest

Make it fun

Fuck methods

Do what you want

I’m not gonna sugar coat shit baby

DO WHAT YOU WANT

Methods are tools

Use them if you want

METHODS SUBLIMINALS ETC ARE WANTS NOT NEEDS YOUR DESIRES ARE NOT NEEDS THEY ARE YOURS BECAUSE YOU ALREADY HAVE THEM

You keep

Falling asleep when lucid dreaming or entering the void

WHO SAYS YOU GOTTA BE SLEEPY BABY???

YOU CAN BE WIDE AWAKE LIKE KATY PERRY

If you feel yourself getting sleepy or drowsy

THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE PERFECT MOMENT TO START AFFIRMING

Pls in this moment

You’re like “ahhhh I’m soooo sleepy how do I stay awake”

BITCH START AFFIRM

CUZ YOU DEADASS ABOUT TO GET IN!!!

By “getting in” means becoming aware of your pure consciousness state cuz you’re not

“Going anywhere”

You’re becoming aware that it exists

You know it does cuz you’re the reason it exists

But you’re becoming aware

Like you know outside there’s people

And stores

But when you go out there to experience you’re aware of it

But why would you be surprised you already knew it was people outside?

Your conscious mind is always active

So you could do rn if you really want to

It’s there

You being alive is powerful

Because you being here is the reason the void exists in you

You control it

Not the opposite

I LOVE YOU

Deadass

Much love Honey🩵💕

Close your eyes until you see specs like this

Hypnotize your mind block out all the noise and enter the void

[sarahghetti]

missing piece; j.l.

pairing: jake lockley x reader centric, marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader

summary: how you and jake get together.

warnings: literally all fluff, a little insecurity from jake, a lot of nuisance from marc and steven, female!reader.

word count: 2.4k

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

out of the three of them, jake is the one you meet last.

marc and steven have mentioned him, of course: the third alter, a little sarcastic and a little aggressive, but who will still make kissy noises at every cat they pass even though his success rate is… quite low.

for a while, the extent of your knowledge about him is just tidbits like that—the things that jake lets the others share from the safety of their headspace.

he’s a cab driver. he likes 2% milk, the leather gloves laying on the corner of the coffee table are his own, and he thinks that steven is a better cook than marc.

(steven might have made that last one up. all you see is him looking into the reflective surface of the pot before he snorts, claiming, “yeah, jake definitely agrees, love, trust me.”)

but that’s not to say that jake doesn’t know anything about you.

he’s always been there throughout your relationships with marc and steven, watching as you smile and laugh and kiss them with so much light in your eyes that they might as well as hung the sun in the sky.

marc and steven have learnt about what you like, what you dislike, which means that jake learns these things as well, and even steps in sometimes to remind them.

marc’s on a grocery run, trying to recall which salsa you liked the most the last time he made tacos. “the one with a green label, pendejo.”

steven’s packing your lunch for work, signing off on a note to stick at the top when—"hey. draw a frog on that.”

“what?” steven felt jake watching, but didn’t actually expect him to speak up. “what are you talking about?”

“she’ll like it.”

“I—”

“nevermind, just give me control of our hand.”

it’s terrible. it’s ugly. the faintest depiction of a frog that’s ever lived, marked with a little “- j” so you know exactly who it’s from.

you absolutely love it.

he doesn’t mean to fall in love with you. truly, he doesn’t. to him, you’re theirs, and he’s still hesitant to get involved with their lives any more than necessary.

but how could he not? not when they spend so much time with you, and he feels that aching warmth in their chest whenever marc or steven look at you.

he finds himself laughing at your jokes even if he’s not the intended recipient, admiring how you look even when you’re not getting dressed up for him.

marc and steven know, of course they do, and accept his feelings far before he does.

because I think at the beginning, jake is nervous to front around you.

you fell so easily for marc and steven, and though he’ll never say it to their faces, he gets it.

marc’s a real softie once you get past the ten-foot tall wall he’s erected around himself, and steven’s… well, steven.

but jake? jake “protector of the body” lockley, who’s sole self-imposed purpose is to keep their heart beating? he’s not a “people-person.” he doesn’t know how to love someone, at least in not the way you deserve to be loved.

“so dramatic.” marc rolls his eyes as he finds himself fronting on their doorstep. jake heard rustling from inside, indicating that you were home, and immediately relinquished the hot seat to one of the others. “you can just talk to her, you know.”

“I know.”

even steven scoffs at him.

“oh, yeah?” to his credit, jake manages to maintain eye contact as marc stares at him in the reflection of a picture frame. “you wanna get back in here, then? say hello to our girlfriend like a normal human being for once?”

when jake doesn’t respond, he continues.

“that’s what I thought. it’s not complicated, you don’t gotta fuckin’ sweep her off her feet or something—"

marc’s words are cut off as you open the door, eyebrows furrowed. “marc? are you just going to… stand outside all day?”

he gives one last pointed glare to his reflection. “nope, we’re coming.”

jake is only coaxed out once you start asking the boys about him.

you don’t want to push him if he really doesn’t want to talk to you, but with all the little things he does, you can’t imagine that that’s the case.

“pass this along to jake for me, would you?” it’s the frog drawing that he made for you some time back, but now with the addition of your own smiling frog beside it. “I’d give it to him myself, but…”

marc can see you deflate a little as you trail off, and that’s illegal in this household. his heart sinks, and he knows that the others can feel it too.

fortunately for everyone, guilt is a wonderful motivator for jake—particularly where you’re involved.

so it starts off small. when it’s time for him to work a cab shift, he doesn’t wait till they’ve already left the apartment to front, instead taking over just before in order to say goodbye to you.

“I’m heading out for work.”

the voice—so clearly your boyfriends’ but a bit flatter than marc’s, more softly accented than steven’s—makes your head snap up from the couch. a flat cap, light jacket layered over a button-up shirt.

black leather gloves.

“jake!” you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about how excited you sound, jumping up to your feet. your enthusiasm to finally see him has his face heating up, and he ducks his head to hide it before you can see.

he fiddles with his sleeves. “don’t be awake when I get back.”

“uhm.” you ruminate over that for a second, confusion so plain that jake has to hold back a grimace. then it hits you—

oh. he just doesn’t want you to stay up on his behalf.

“okay.” you smile. “have fun!”

he snorts. “I’ll try. good night, querida.”

those few minutes before he leaves has you looking forward to his shifts, even if it means that you have to go to bed alone.

initially, jake doesn’t let himself think that you always being around when he’s fronting is anything more than a coincidence.

but then one night, you’re out hanging out with friends, and he gets a text as he’s stepping out the door: be safe! have a good shift :)

jake can’t really argue with himself after that.

(that, and the other two heckle him about it so much that he has to accept it. steven already has to deal with marc’s self-confidence issues—dealing with jake’s are much easier in comparison.)

still—

“don’t even know if she likes me,” jake grumbles as he enters their building, hands stuffed into his pockets. he’d already parked his cab for the night, not too far from the flat, and the walk home has been the three of them running around in circles on the topic.

“don’t even know if she likes me,” steven repeats, not unkindly, but still very much annoyed. “mate, do you hear yourself?”

“she’s just kind, that’s all.”

“she remembers your schedule better than marc or I do, and we’re all in the same body!”

jake clicks his tongue as he rides the elevator, avoiding the reflections around him, lest he comes face-to-face with his alters.

marc chimes in. “you do know if you ask her out for dinner or something, she’ll say yes, right?”

he misses inserting their key the first time, swearing under his breath.

“I’m serious. we’ve talked about it before—”

“don’t be stupid—” jake opens their door a bit more harshly than intended, and the sound stirs you from where you dozed off on the couch.

“jake?” you rub your eyes, yawning. the sound of your voice shuts them all up, and you sit up just enough to look at him. “welcome back.”

“what are you…?” jake gestures vaguely and you shrug.

“wanted to surprise you, but I guess I fell asleep,” you chuckle softly, and his heart clenches.

“a-ha! you see? our poor girl was staying up late just to see you! how are you going to say that—”

jake tunes steven out as he walks towards you, pretending to be unaffected when he extends a hand.

“come on, let’s get you to bed.”

he doesn’t ask you about a date that night—you’re far too tired to be thinking about that, after all—but he turns the idea over in his head.

asking you out to dinner seems so formal, but it’s not like he can just buy you a coffee, either. what’s the protocol for asking out your alters’ girlfriend?

”you’re thinking about it too much.”

yeah, he knows, marc—that doesn’t make things any better.

gradually, he starts to front more during the day.

not as often as marc and steven, but enough for you to learn a bit more about him: how he likes his coffee (black, as expected), his favourite breakfast (eggs in a basket), and that he likes playing ABBA in the flat while doing other things.

jake is very much a ‘fake it till you make it’ kind of guy—is he nervous about spending time with you? of course not—how could he be, when he flirts and jokes around with you so easily?

and flirting with jake is fun. it’s all surface level—he refuses to touch the elephant in the room that is your obvious feelings for each other with a ten-foot pole—but he’s shameless in a way that marc and steven aren’t, making you hot in the face at the most inopportune times.

he might be wearing a smirk the entire time, but he means every compliment, every word that he says to you.

sometimes you hold his gaze for too long and see how his eyes soften when he looks at you, and it takes your breath away.

jake wants you so hard it hurts. he knows he’s digging himself a hole with how (little) he expresses himself, and although it fills him with anxiety, he knows that he’s going to need a different approach in order to actually let you know how he feels.

your hand is nestled in the crook of marc’s elbow as you walk past storefronts on the way home, pointing out the things you see in the window displays.

“those are the pots you were talking about, right?” marc gestures towards a set of expensive ceramics in all their glory, and while he’s correct, you shake your head with a sigh.

“’s not the colour I want.”

“your dedication to colour coordination in the midst of steven’s mess is admirable.”

you laugh, continuing on ahead until you stop in front of a boutique. in its display case is a sleek, form-fitting dress that falls so beautifully on the mannequin that it makes you suspicious as to how it’d actually look on someone. “oh, that’s pretty.”

marc hums from above you before stilling suddenly. you know what comes next; you’re ready to greet steven when—

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you in that, querida.” the corner of jake’s mouth curls and you roll your eyes, grinning.

“hey, jake.”

“hey.” his smile is lopsided, almost boyish. “don’t suppose you wanted to pop in now to try it on?”

“you’d like that.” he shrugs, guilty as charged. “but nah, I’m getting kind of hungry.”

jake gently tugs you with his arm. “then let’s go get something to eat.”

it’s a reoccurring joke between the two of you, and it’s your turn to deliver the punchline. your voice is teasing, “you asking me on a date, lockley?”

“yes.”

his tone stops you in his tracks. gone are any traces of humour as he holds your gaze. it’s the most serious you’ve ever seen him for a while.

that’s not right. he’s supposed to smirk, full machismo, and say something like obviously, princesa. your brain lags. “I—what?”

“I’m asking you out. do you want to go get dinner?”

you stand there, gaping like a fish as you internalize what’s happening. it takes everything in jake to not fidget on the spot or backtrack with another teasing comment. no, he has to make you see that he’s serious about this, even though his heart is racing a mile a minute.

slowly, a smile grows on your face until you’re beaming at him, and all the tension releases from his body. “yeah. yes, let’s—let’s go, jake.”

it’s nothing fancy. it’s not even new, either. he leads the way to one of your go-to places whenever nobody wants to cook, and though it’s your first official ‘date’, a sense of comfort settles over you.

begrudgingly, jake admits—the solution has always been a simple one. you don’t need him to be marc or steven, or to plan the perfect date. you’ve always just wanted to know him.

he can see as much in your barely constrained excitement as you both take a seat, legs brushing up against each other under the table. so, what else can he do but let his guard down for once?

finally, finally jake’s opening up to you, and he absentmindedly traces patterns on your hand with his thumb. “what do you want to know?”

well—lots of things, but there is something that you’ve been meaning to ask him…

you tilt your head, curious. “do you actually think that steven’s better at cooking than marc?”

 “dios, are you kidding me?” his lips curl up with so much distaste that you can’t help but laugh, and you bury your head in your hands; the sight warms him from the inside out. there’s so much jake wants to tell you, but—

there’s no rush. you have all the time in the world, after all.

[doc-pickles]

waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (p. 2)

series masterlist

summary: the hughes-tkachuk family thanksgiving dinner from hell

warnings: mentions vomiting

a/n: here’s part two of my matty fic! hope y’all enjoy :)

xoxo

nina

Your parents' living room is loud and boisterous as everyone mills around for an early Thanksgiving dinner. The dinner had been a Hughes-Tkachuk tradition for as long as you could remember, but this year your stomach rolled uneasily at the thought of having to sit at a table and lie to everyone at it.

“Did the annulment go through?”

Matthew’s voice makes you jump as you turn to face him. His stubble has grown out into the beginnings of a beard and you can’t deny it’s a good look on him.

“About that,” your eyes shift down to your boots as you speak quietly. “They can’t annul it, we’re going to have to get a legal divorce.”

Matthew doesn’t say anything, simply drags you down the hall into one of the spare bedrooms before closing the door and looking at you with wide eyes.

“What do you mean we need a divorce? I thought we could get it annulled and pretend like it never happened,” Matthew's tone was incredulous as he stared at you.

“Me too but apparently when you marry someone with a multimillion-dollar hockey contract that complicates things,” you swallow down the bile trying to climb your throat as you look up at Matthew. His gaze softens and you realize you must look scared shitless right now. “Listen I’ll figure it out okay? It’s not a big deal.”

Without warning, Matthew pulls you into a hug and you breathe in his warm woodsy scent, grounding yourself in the contact. You take a shaky breath as he runs a hand down your back, “Let me know how I can help, okay? I don’t want you stressing over this and it takes two to tango anyways.”

You barely hold back the urge to laugh at his statement, Matthew not knowing how true his words are. Instead, you nod and stay there for a few more comforting seconds before he pulls away, “You okay?”

Nodding you meet Matthew's eyes, “Can we talk after dinner?”

“Sure,” Matthew nods and presses a kiss to your forehead before he gives you one last smirk and leaves the room.

When you leave a few minutes later, everyone is starting to sit down around the table. You take your spot next to Luke and across from Matthew who winks at you as you sit. He groans and you see Quinn glaring at him, assuming your brother had kicked him under the table.

“Table is getting full,” Keith chuckles as he looks between all of the kids, Emma now seated next to Brady. “Might need a bigger one next year.”

Your mother lets out a huff and as soon as you look at her you know whatever comes out of her mouth next isn’t going to be good.

“I’d say so. In fact, I think someone here has a little announcement they want to make,” as you scan the table and meet Matthew’s gaze your stomach drops, both of your faces blanching. “Who wants to share?”

You and Matthew break away from each other's stares to look around at all of your siblings. None of them look like they’re quite sure what’s happening, but they all keep flicking back to you and Matthew.

“Mom-”

“Anyone want to tell me why there was a pregnancy test in the guest bath? A positive one at that?”

Your mouth snaps shut at your moms admission and side glances immediately start flying across the table. Most eyes turn to Brady and Emma, the newlyweds shaking their heads. Emma grabs her wine and takes a hearty sip before answering your mom, “Not me, I’m very much still enjoying my wine.”

Eyes dart around the table again and you can tell the moment Luke spots your can of Coke next to his bottle of beer, a long and loud groan leaving him, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Luke Warren Hughes! Language,” your father scolds, but you can barely register his chastising as you lock eyes with your twin.

“Okay but who’s pregnant?” Jack asks cluelessly as he continues to look around the table. “If it’s not Emma it’s Taryn or- Oh my god!”

You can feel every set of eyes at the table fall onto you but you can only meet Matthew’s gaze across the table, his blue eyes wide and searching as he stares you down. You hold his gaze until Quinn and Jack both start yelling simultaneously.

“Are you kidding me? You knocked up my sister you fucking douche canoe!”

“Holy shit! Holy shit this is from Vegas? First, you marry my sister then you knock her up?!”

At Jack and Quinn’s outbursts, you push your head into your hands as all four of your parents begin to hurl questions across the table. The noise leaves your head swimming as bile begins to rise up your throat, everyone around you shouting.

“Wait, Matthew got you pregnant?”

“What the hell happened in Vegas?”

“Did he just say you're married? How long have you two been together?”

“Does this mean we’re all going to be grandparents?”

As everyone continues to yell over the table you do the only thing you can think to do. Leaning to your right you promptly throw up your meager lunch into the potted plant next to you. Everyone stops as you continue to throw up and you vaguely register your mom ushering everyone out of the room while a hand settles on your back. You’re not entirely sure who’s holding you but the hand on your back is comforting.

“S’okay, I got you,” you’re slightly shocked when Matthew’s voice sounds out as his hand rubs your back. “Fun dinner huh?”

You huff out a laugh as you finally stop retching, looking over your shoulder at Matthew, “No one got a chance to take a single bite.”

There’s a silent minute where you’re simply breathing and trying to ground yourself before Matthew asks with a small voice, “You okay?”

Nodding slightly you sit up and face him, “I’m fine. Besides single-handedly ruining Thanksgiving and not being able to keep any food besides cranberry sauce down all day.”

Matthew chuckles as he runs a hand over his face, “Hey at least we had the common sense to get married before having a baby, huh?”

You both sit in silence for a second before a bubble of laughter bursts out from you, Matthew joining in. You look at him with a small smile, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I found out last night, I was going to tell you after dinner. I didn’t want to freak you out before we had to sit down and lie to everyone about being married, but here we are.”

“It’s okay. At least we don’t have to stress about telling everyone,” you’re both quiet for a second before Matthew whispers his next words. “You… Do you want to keep it?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly as you focus on your fingers. “Yes I… I hope that’s okay.”

Matthew nods, pulling you closer before speaking, “I… Yeah. We’ll figure it out, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you stop puking yet?” Luke asks as he sticks his head around the corner. Seeing you and Matthew sitting together he rolls his eyes. “Good. Can you please go into the living room before someone in there combusts? I think dad and Keith are about to start throwing punches.”

Matthew helps you up and you walk hand in hand to the living room. Keith and your dad are yelling and Quinn is trying (and failing) to explain what happened in Vegas to your mom.

“You think if we slip out they’d notice?” Matthew whispers right next to your ear and you have to stop yourself from letting out a full body shudder at the feeling.

“Unfortunately, yes. Plus I’m getting kind of hungry so I want to wrap this up and get back to dinner as soon as possible.”

Matthew chuckles behind you and everyone seems to realize you two are standing there. Your dad takes a step forward, but you put your hand up to stop him from coming any closer as you step in front of Matthew.

“Okay so we’re not going to threaten to beat up the man you’ve known since he was five,” you fix your dad with a knowing look before eyeing your brothers over his shoulder. “You three are included in that.”

“Why don’t we just let the kids explain what happened,” Chantal broaches from her spot on the couch next to your mom. “Maybe we have the story wrong.”

“Ummm so we went to Las Vegas… And then we got married,” you can’t meet anyone’s eyes as you speak but Matthew grabs your hand again and squeezes it comfortingly. “So there-“

“You got married because you were drunk and couldn’t find something better to do,” your father asked as he stared at you and Matthew.

“Jim!”

“No, Dad-“

“Well it’s fine they can just get it annulled,” Keith says from his spot across the room.

“Not if she’s pregnant,” Chantal shrieks and you can feel your heartbeat pick up. “You are pregnant, right?”

You nod, feeling tears prickling your eyes as your parents begin to speak again.

“What if it’s not even Matthew’s?”

“Well you can’t have a baby out of wedlock! Even if it’s not his-“

“You saying my daughter is a-“

“I didn’t say that! I’m just suggesting-“

“Listen I know that all of this wasn’t planned but both of us are responsible adults who can make decisions on our own,” Matthew interrupts your parents bickering and you don’t realize you're harshly squeezing his hand until he pulls you back into chest. “Can we table this conversation and eat dinner? Please?”

Everyone files back into the dining room and you cast a grateful look to Luke who’s taken the seat across from you so Matthew can sit next to you. Plates get passed around and when everyone is eating you finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“So besides the impromptu elopement, how was Vegas?” your mom asks with a small grin and a chorus of laughter sounds from the table.

Left it kind of open ended but I love writing the Hughes/Tkachuk gang so maybe another part?

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

May I ask for a request of tangerine x reader who works with Tan and Lemon. Idiots in love type. And on a mission one takes a bullet for the other or does something stupid during a mission to keep the other safe? and then when they are in the clear they get into a big argument about how stupid the other was and like all the yelling and arguing leads to slipping out a love confession. You can choose who gets injured tan or reader.

Also, I could totally see Lemon in the back just watching them argue sipping on some water that isn’t poisoned.

hii sunshine! love love love it! thanks for requesting, hope you like it 💌 @thewinterv I combined this with your request, hope you don’t mind 🤍

HONESTY HOUR.

tangerine x implied fem!reader

word count. 792

warnings. couple blood mentions

Missions were always complicated with Tangerine. Not because he’s difficult to work with or unskilled, but instead it was your feelings towards him that made working with him so tricky. Confusing feelings pertaining to the unspoken, unacknowledged connection between you.

And because of that, you never knew where you stood with each other. You each knew there was something there, a spark as such, but neither of you would dare speak on it. These repressed emotions have been marinating for far too long, the approaching expiry date much like that of a ticking time bomb. 

Today's mission was particularly challenging: you and Tangerine were tasked to retrieve something —you still were unsure of what exactly— while Lemon retrieved the other. You’d all often split on missions, though today two diversions were needed, and without a moment to think on it, you found yourself following after Tangerine. 

In hindsight, it may have been stupid – the current bullet wound in your lower arm acting as a giant looming ‘I told you so.’ As soon as you and Tan were rushed into a trap —a setup— it all kind of went blank, and you fought on autopilot without a single comprehensive thought. 

You were hardly aware that you were hit until Tangerine noticed it – the trail of blood leaking from your arm and on the floor in an inconsistent pattern. 

“What the fuck have you done?” Tan yells, eyes widening as he rushes over to you – jumping over the small pile of dead bodies.

“I don’t know,” you shout back, looking down at your arm in panic. “I don’t know.”

“Oh fuckin’ hell,” he continues his yelling for some apparent reasoning. “God, this is a fuckin’ disaster,” he says, moving a hand to cover the wound in your arm, his palm firm over the small hole – trying to apply pressure. 

“It’s starting to hurt,” you wince, tugging your arm away. The adrenaline beginning to wear off.

He holds onto your elbow with his other hand, keeping you still and stopping you from pulling from his attempt of help.

“Keep bloody still, man,” he furrows, eyes narrowing at you for a brief moment. “Knew you should’ve gone with Lemon.”

“Well if I did, you’d be dead. So you’re welcome,” you retort, eyes squinting at him in that same frustrated way.

“Yeah, well too late for that now, ain’t it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snark, snatching your arm away – holding over the wound in the same way he did. “Don’t have to be such a dick to me all the time, okay? I’m trying.”

“You never fuckin’ think. You always throw yourself in danger and I have to come and bail you out,” he scoffs, staring you down. 

“I never ask you to.”

He chuckles, the sound amused. “Oh, come off it.”

“I don’t need you to treat me like I’m a little princess,” you retort once more. “I don’t need your help, okay? I’m fine on my own.”

“Well maybe that’s our fuckin’ problem then,” he says, voice far calmer now. 

“What does that mean?” you ask, tone softening like his. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, exhaling heavily. “Forget it. I don’t care anymore,” he scoffs. “We gotta get back to Lem and get you sorted.”

And as he goes to leave, walking past you, you grab a hold of his arm to halt him. “What do you mean by that?” you question, eyes darting over his face.

“Nevermind.”

“No,” you tug his arm, extending your neck to meet his eyeline. “Tell me.”

He sighs, purposely avoiding your eyes. “I care about you, alright?” he confesses, speaking almost reluctantly. 

You move to stand in front of him, making him face you – forcing him to look at you. You smile faintly at him, the softness in your eyes silently prompting him to say what else he was thinking.

“I like you, okay? I don’t wanna see you hurt,” he admits. “Happy now?”

You nod sincerely, smiling at him. “That’s why I always go with you… sounds stupid, but I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Yeah?” he says softly, a faint grin lining his lips. “So what’re you saying?” he chuckles, pushing you into a confession like you did him.

“I’m saying,” you pause. “I’m saying I like you.”

“You do?” he takes a step closer.

And before you have a moment to reply, you hear footsteps approach, the presence snapping you from this little honesty round with Tangerine. “Oi, there you fuckers are,” Lemon shouts, spotting you both. “Got shit to do, now chop chop.” And when he sees each of your faces, he can’t help but laugh. Both of you looked so guilty. “About to finally do it, weren’t you?”

I fear this may be total ass

[bohemianblasphemy]

can you write maybe billyxreader where reader finds out he slept with maeve and it bothers them and billy reassures them that it wasn’t serious and he loves reader, and they ask him to prove it.

i love a lil angsty smut ✨

@billybutcherrtrash

Numb.

That was all that you could feel in that moment. The abundance of tension in that room where the Boys had their meeting was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Butcher had dropped some intel for their mission to take down Homelander; the superweapon that had supposedly killed Soldier Boy, as well as a small supply of Temp V.

It was however, when he casually dropped the bombshell of how he got this information, which was in the form of sleeping with Queen Maeve.

“Purely transactional, nothin’ else.” He’d grin, before continuing the meeting as if it didn’t mean anything- especially to you.

Billy was a complicated man- He’s determined to get what he wants, even if it meant to sleep with the enemy.

Nothing could have prepared you for that news, the pressure of his words hung on you like dead weight. Uncertainties filled your mind as you thought about the obvious feelings that you and Billy shared for each other.

“Did what we have matter to him? Or was it just to fill in the void?”

It seemed that everyone besides Butcher, who was still yapping away was focused on you and how you were feeling; sending invisible messages of sympathy and pity toward you as you sat there motionless trying to subdue your pain.

Trying to avert your mind to anything else than what you just heard had proved unsuccessful, the image of him and Maeve burned into your brain.

The day was unbearably long, it was too much for you, choosing to feign illness and left for home early. Butcher saw right through your getaway, knowing deep down why you did.

As night fell, your apartment was quiet. Sitting on your small couch as you looked out the window, ruminating thoughts of his ‘transaction’ still fresh in your head.

Knocking on the door snapped you out of your thoughts as you made your way to look through the peep hole, seeing none other than Billy himself.

A part of yourself wanted to tell him to fuck off, the other begging to open the door. The latter of your thoughts won as you opened the door- Butcher waltzing in without so much as an acknowledgement.

“Well yes, of course come right in!” Your voice oozed sarcasm and annoyance as you shut the door. He snapped around to look at you.

“You ain’t sick, i know that.” he grumbled. “talk to me, i ain’t leavin’ till ya do.” You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms as you stared at him- staying silent as you figured out the words to say.

“Why her, Billy?” you choked on your words, not looking him in the eye. “How could you think that was okay to sleep with someone else?” Butchers expression showed regret and annoyance at himself, punching the bridge of his nose.

“Love, it wasn’t serious. It was just for the job- nothin’ more, nothin’ less!” his voice rose. “you know the shit i gotta do for the Boys.”

“just for the job?! are you serious right now?” you echoed his words, disbelief laced through your tone. “How do you expect me to believe that?”

Silence fell over the both of you, surrounded by uncomfortable tension. “You didn’t think of me at all?” your voice cracked, Butcher looking over at you with a guilt ridden expression as he strides over to you- placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Listen to me.” he looked into your eyes, his gaze piercing through your anger. “I. Love. You. only you, you get me?” He looked for a sign in your eyes, anything to indicate how you felt.

He sighed. “Maeve and I��� it was nothin’, she means nothin’ to me. Nothing like how i feel about ya. You’re the only one that matters to me, the only one i want.”

Your heart raced at his words, but the hurt you felt in your heart still lingered.

“Then prove it…”

You challenged, seeing Billy’s eyes widen.

“Show me that i am the only one you love.” you stepped toward him, the short distance closed between you.

“Oh I’ll prove it to ya alright…” he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. Before you could even speak his hand reached to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a bruising kiss.

The kiss deepened quickly, his tongue invading your mouth as he backed you up toward the nearest wall; he hands running up under your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Goosebumps formed along your now bare torso, Butchers calloused hands roaming around your body.

“God you’re just… fuckin’ stunning.” he mumbled as his lips attached to your neck and sucking a red mark onto you, making you purr.

His lips trailed further down as he sat on his knees in front of you you, his digits working on the drawstring on your pants as he pulls them down your thighs along with your underwear.

With a swift movement he turns you around, your chest pressed against the wall. His hands running up your thighs, pushing them apart.

“Bend over f’me…” he growled, his voice laced in arousal. Obeying his word, you pushed your hips backward, hands braced against the wall- hearing him groan softly at the sight before him.

You heard him shuffle forward, his large fingers dug into your fleshy backside. “I can’t get enough’f this pussy…” he whispered as he dragged his tongue along your folds, burying his face between your legs.

The sinful mix of your moans and Butchers mouth moving along you filled the room. Your legs shook as Billy continued lapping his tongue on you, occasionally smacking you ass causing you to yelp.

Your orgasm came quickly, Billy’s hands holding you up as your legs shook from the overwhelming pleasure of his skilled tongue. “God lovey, i could taste you for hours…” he chuckled, gently biting your ass cheek as he stood back up behind you, unzipping his jeans.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good love…” you felt him line up with you, moaning as he started to tease your sopping cunt with the tip of his cock before plunging deep inside of you.

Hot breath invaded your ear as you were pounded into from behind, Billy taking a grip of your hair.

“You feel me huh? you feel how f-fuckin’ ‘ard i am f’ya?” he grumbled, grabbing your hips roughly. “It’s all f’you. no one else but you, ya hear me?”

You couldn’t reply, the pleasure was too overwhelming for you. Rough fingers snaked down towards your middle, rubbing your sensitive clit.

You whined at the added sensation as your second release was near, Butcher nearing his as his cock pulsated within your walls.

Heavy groans erupted from behind you, his fingers moving faster as he felt you clench around him. “Fuck Billy!” you cried out, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. “that’s a good fuckin’ girl, cum on my cock…” he growled in your ear.

His thrusts became sloppier as he came inside you. “fuck… i can’t get over you, my sweetheart…” he praised, turning you around and bringing you in for a passionate kiss.

Pulling away from the kiss he looked you, looking in your eyes - hoping to find a glimpse of convincing you of his love.

Your eyes look at him with a neutral expression.

“As good as that was…” you giggled, moving your mouth closer to his ear.

“it’s gonna take a lot more convincing…”