#our soft soft soft pedrito

[softiedingo]

the soft smile ✅️ the eye crinkled ✅️ the glasses ✅️ the cap ✅️ the gray-haired beard ✅️ the Frankie Morales vibes ✅️

[avenging-fandoms]

imagine if you lost your wedding ring? husband!pedro would be ON IT and he’d give you a new one in the cutest way

**fem pronouns

-

You were just rinsing off the plates before the dishwasher, doesn’t everyone do that? All the moving of plates, pans, utensils, everything. Washing your hands you realized you weren’t hitting your ring.

Your stomach drops, checking every surrounding area, the sink and even the dishwasher with soaking wet soapy hands, cursing to yourself and falling onto the floor.

“Princesa, what’s going on?” Pedro grabbed a towel and wiped your hands, and he knew. “Oh no.. did you lose it?”

“Pedrito I’m sorry, I forgot to take it off. That was our wedding bands from Chilé, Pedro! What if they’re shut down?!” You sobbed and he shushed you, holding your head to his chest.

“Honey it’s okay, we can try and find it, okay?” You sniffle and nod, wiping your nose. Pedro pulls out his phone and calls the only person he knows how to fix this.

Oscar came over with his box of tools and it made you giggle. “I owe you 10 bucks Pedrito.”

“For what?” Oscar lightly punched your arm and kissed your head.

“If you looked like a dad when you walked in.” Pedro laughed and Oscar rolled his eyes. “So my lovely wife over there was rinsing the dishes and her ring fell in the drain, so she claims.”

“So I’m going to take apart your pipe not knowing if it’s in there?” Oscar asks and opens the cabinets.

“It’s our house. If you can’t find it then we’ll figure something out.” Pedro nudged you and you pout, trying not to cry again.

After two hours of taking apart the sink and getting excited for nothing a few times, you came to realize your ring was gone. Oscar apologized and hugged you while rubbing your arm, Pedro on his phone while leaning over the island.

“I think he’s mad at me.” You whisper and Pedro looks up at you through the top of his glasses. Oscar nods, saying his goodbyes quickly and leaving your house.

Pedro stood up and locked his phone on the counter, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You look at him with a pout and walk over to him, hugging around his arms. “I’m really really sorry Pedro. I feel sick, I feel awful. I can wear one of those silicone rings-”

Pedro backed away from you and your eyes scan his face for an emotion. His eyes were soft, his puppy dog look. Your eyebrows pushed together slowly and he dropped to one knee.

“I kept this a secret from you for almost 5 years. When I ordered our rings, I ordered 2 of each, just in case something like this happened.” Pedro pulled out the box he used to propose and you cover your smile as you look at him. “Yn Pascal, would you do me the absolute honor of marrying me? ..Again?”

You laugh and drop to your knees, kissing him over and over again. “Yes, yes. Pedro I love you so much.” You cry and he smiles, sliding the ring on your finger. “I will super glue this to my finger now.” You joke and Pedro laughs, standing up with you as he kissed you.

“I love you, honey.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Can I please get a fluffy dad Pedro coming home to trader taking care of their sick baby?

It's been a hot minute since I've wrote for Pedrito. Felt good, so good!!

Snotty noses

Pedro was rather lost in his head as he made his way through the busy New York streets after yet another interview. He had declined so many of them towards the end of your pregnancy. Even more, once your baby girl was born. But his management was pressuring him now. He had to make an appearance. There were shows and movies of his that had to be promoted. Especially with him being the main lead.

But now all he felt was guilt because he must have dragged some virus back home last week. Causing you to fall ill slightly but most importantly making your newborn baby sick for the very first time. So to say that he felt like the most shit father ever now would be an understatement.

Pedro stopped at the little pharmacy not too far from your shared apartment to grab the medication you had asked for. Asking for extras of everything. Hating all the little syringes that would help the baby swallow the mixtures. His little angel. Unexpected and hardly planned but no less of a miracle. Truly, Pedro had given up on the idea of having kids. He wasn't in his youngest years. Plus his schedule was still so tight. He knew he would spend way too little time at home for his liking.

But you fell pregnant and he had sat on the bathroom floor for over an hour just started at all the positive tests with you. Happy tears running down his cheeks. Pedro never failed to remind you how thankful he was for this. For you choose to go through the rather ruth pregnancy. Being an absolute wander woman at birth. He loved you even more now and was smitten with the little girl you two had created.

Pedro unlocks the apartment door quietly just in case you two had managed to fall asleep. Dropping the pharmacy bad to the side he kicked off his shoes, quickly making his way towards the living room where he had left his two girls snuggled up in the morning. The fact that no baby was screaming made him hopeful that she was at least slightly better. Had to be, right? The doctor had said that by now she should be showing signs of getting better.

And what Pedro sees is you swaying softly, humming your tune as you no doubt are trying to make her fall asleep. But her tiny little hands are wildly grabbing around as she wiggles in your hands. You turn sideways slightly, jumping lightly at the sight of your partner.

"God, Pedro, I nearly had a heart attack...", you mutter letting your shoulders sag in relief. "Sorry, my love, just was trying to be quiet", he mutters quietly, taking you in. You're still in one of his shirts that you wore to bed. Hair messily pushed to the side. A part of Pedro knows that you hadn't had a shower or a moment to do something for yourself today and that makes him feel so guilty. "You sure succeeded in doing that", You breath out but now you're smiling up at him, "How did it all go?"

"In all honesty, I just wanted to go home. Don't like leaving you two like this", Pedro stepped closer, leaving a light kiss on your forehead, as he embraced you. Noting that your skin was noticeably less warm. "How's our bunny?", his eyes fall onto the little bundle, who's already looking up at their dad with big brown eyes, "How's my little girl? You're feeling any better?", he coos at her, earning a little gummy smile you two haven't seen in over a week.

"The fever is gone, she's mostly snotty", you hum in response, laying your hand down on Pedro's shoulder for a moment. "And you?", he asks within a heartbeat. Your silence says enough. And truthfully Pedro can only imagine what a toll this caused to your body. "I'll be fine", you mutter but Pedro is shaking his head. "Go take a long hot bath, I'll make you something to eat before the evening feed. The pills you asked for are on the entrance table", his words are soft, and caring, as he carefully takes the baby from your hands.

"I'm fine, P", you know that he's also just as tired. He had been taken most of the night feeds. Sure, you both had stayed up for most nights because you both were scared that you might miss something but still. More or less Pedro was the one getting out of bed to change dippers and picking up whatever you might need for a feed. "Don't, my love. You too deserve to take a breather", he gently rubs your upper arm, "I've got her. You go pamper yourself a little. Believe me, you'll feel much better". And of course, you knew that he was right. Sometimes even a little shower can make a huge difference when you're not feeling well. So with a quick kiss on your baby's cheek, you slip away into the bathroom.

Pedro quickly changes into more comfortable clothes while babbling to the rather active baby. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed watching her when she was so active and alert. The droopy, tired eyes had been cutting his heart for days now. Pedro gets the kettle for tea ready. Pulling out a pot of soup from the fridge to heat up once you're out. Already thinking about the sandwich he'll make to go alongside it.

But he finds himself on the sofa almost immediately. With the light weight of the baby pressing onto his chest. "Look at your snotty little nose", he coos, reaching out for the stuff to extract the mucus with and carefully wiping the area, "It must feel so frustrating, huh?" The baby only bubbles in return and Pedro finds himself nodding to the sound. Her curious gaze finds him. The deep chocolate eyes crinkle with a smile as she notices him. "You're happy to see me today? Did you miss me?", Pedro is smiling himself as he carefully runs his fingers over her cheek, "I've missed you too, baby girl. Never want to leave you and your mommy again".

A big yawn slips out of her lips. Pedro moves to rub her back with his palm. She doesn't break the eye contact, trying to stay up and look at her dad but her eyes are slowly betraying her. Pedro laughs a little, "Don't fight it, baby girl, Daddy will be right here when you wake up", he promises. She lets out a sigh. Nuzzling deeper into his chest. Pedro takes hold of her tiny first, placing a loving kiss onto it, letting her tiny finger grip onto him. She's out within seconds. The warmth of him mixed with the calming sound of her father's heartbeat is enough to make her settle in no time. Pedro smiles to himself. Allowing himself to just watch her. Soak up all of her tiny features and the love she can show even while being so small.

[munsonownsmyass]

Never let you go

Matt Murdock x reader

Notes: This is for @mindidjarin . It's her birthday and she often says she wants our boy Matty to suffer, so... Happy birthday, Mindi my dear, here's some whump.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, massive injuries, crying. Whumpy shit. I made myself cry.

Feeling lightheaded, Matt stumbles down the corridor, searching for you. His bleeding had slowed down, but his suit was already drenched with blood. Not all of it his, but most of it was. He should probably do something about it, bandage it up, but there was no time. He had to find you.

The metallic smell of blood hangs heavily in the air, overpowering his senses. His own. The guys who now lay unconscious or dead on the floor. You.

He hears you, finds your ragged breath and weak heartbeat. Falling to his knees beside you, his hands roam your form, assessing your injuries. Small wounds scattered all over your body, some deeper than others, but most he could handle. Bruised skin, a few broken bones and…

He tries to convince himself it isn’t bad, that he can get you help, but as his hand covers the huge gash on your throat, he can’t keep the tears away. Even with the wound covered, the blood trickles freely past his fingertips. Sliding down your chest and his arms, dripping onto the floor.

“Just tell me.” You cough out, your words drowned out by the blood in your mouth. Your breathing is shallow, fast, as you try to hang on. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“No, no, sweetheart. It’s okay.” He lies, his free hand gently cupping your cheek. He tries to tell himself that it’s not that much blood, that people have survived worse. But you’re already so cold, your heartbeat getting fainter by each beat. “You’ll be okay.”

“Matty-” You try, but your words fail you. You’re already so weak, but you try to be strong. For him. And he tries to be strong for you, keeping the tears at bay. He should never have brought you here, but you insisted. Wanted to help. You’re always so strong, so stubborn. One of the reasons he loves you so much.

“Help will be here soon. I promise.” It’s more for himself than you, trying to hold onto hope. Whispering silent prayers between sobs as he caress your hair, feeling your body become weaker in his arms. You can’t do this, you can’t leave him like this. It’s not fair. He’s already lost so much, he can’t lose you too.

“Sweetheart?” More a plea than a question, he shake you awake. You can’t fall asleep, not yet. Not when there’s so much he wants to say. A soft whimper is all you give him, as the tears stream down your face. He can feel them fall on his hands, hear your sobs in between your strained breath.

“I need you to hold on for me, okay? Just-” You place your hand on his chest, right over his heart and he breaks. Sobbing, he kisses you, hopefully not for the last time. “Just be strong for me. I can’t go on without you. I can’t do this alone. I need you.”

“I’m sorry.” You croak out, voice so weak it’s barely there. He can feel you looking at him and how much it drains you. It’s not gonna be long now. “I’m so sorry, Matty. Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, sweetheart.” The tears sting in his eyes, the silent cries now turned into sobs as he caress your hair, rocking you softly in his arms. “Just… Hold on.”

“I can’t… You-” You cup his cheek, hand trembling as it takes all your remaining strength. “You have to let me go. Move your hand.”

“No, please. Please don’t make me do that. I can’t-” He pleads. You just nod, moving your own hand to his. His lips find yours in the last kiss you’ll ever share. As he keeps you in his embrace, lips locked with yours, he moves his hand from your throat. He keeps holding you, caressing you and whispering pleads to anyone who will listen. Even after you’ve turned cold, your heartbeat gone, he holds you close, never wanting to let you go.

TFC girls: @e-dubbc11 @saintmurd0ck @mattmurdocksscars @itwasthereaminuteago @pedrito-friskito @officialjanetsnakehole @a-bang-for-your-bucky @idrinkcoffeeandobsess

Tagging: @freshabogados @lucy-sky

[itwasthereaminuteago]

A tiny bit of Matt fluff for you.

Our boy works so hard, even at Xmas 🥺

He lets his back lean against the warming tiles as the hot spray of water chases the blood and dirt from his skin down the drain. He can't bring himself to reach for the bottle of shower gel, not just now. As he tips his head back the water plasters his hair to his head, and it runs like a thick, temporary rushing curtain over his ears, muting everything. A rare oasis of peace.

Tiredness hits him suddenly like a volley of fists to his body, the muscles in his legs giving up like wet spaghetti. He slides down to sit on the floor of the shower, knees up almost around his head.

He doesn't hear you come in, only reacting to your touch with a quiet hum when you climb into the shower with him. He's vaguely aware of the smooth soft motions of your soaped up hands over his chest and arms, and he hears your pleased response as he moans when you massage his scalp with the shampoo.

Everything is dreamlike as you're suddenly drying him with a warm fluffy towel, and the next moment he's wearing flannel pajama bottoms and you're tucking him into your soft bed. 

He feels the soft warmth of your lips, fleeting but tender on his forehead, and he's just conscious enough to move his lips against yours as you kiss him there too.

"Happy Christmas Matt."

.

@phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @mindidjarin @castlesnchurches @peterman-spideyparker @pastafossa @mattmurdocksscars @mattmurdockspainkink @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass

@hellskitchens-whore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @briefcasejuice @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @e-dubbc11 @father4giveme @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @imperfxctly-me @stress--relief @murnsondock @stupidthoughtsinwriting @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @m0nster-fvcker @creatingjana @echos-muses @babykaz @lazyxsquirrel

[churchofthesluttyknee]

A Series of Firsts

Author(s): A collaboration amongst smutty parishioners of The Church of the Slutty Knee

Pairing(s): Pedro x Oscar

Rating: E18+ MDNI

Word Count: pending

Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, including, but not limited to BDSM, choking, anal, oral, masturbation (self/mutual), toys, public sex

Chapter Summary: Pedro and Oscar discuss consensual power dynamics and safety. Oscar gives Pedro his first lesson.Takes place the day after chapter 3 concludes.

Notes: I know “cool slutty daddy” didn’t happen until 2023, and that Ash Crossan didn’t become an entertainment correspondent until 2022, so I’m taking some liberties (as if this whole story isn’t full of them 🤣)

Tag line: “Have you ever craved it? Craved it so badly… that it hurts?”

Chapter 4 - First Lesson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Pedro narrates]: Al descubrirme totalmente entregado de cuerpo y alma a esta conexión, surge un nivel de confianza y complicidad que nunca habíamos experimentado. Nuestras miradas se encuentran, comunicando el ardiente deseo de olvidarse del mundo afuera, y solamente sumergirme en tus ojos inebriantes. Tus besos sellan este momento. No quiero que te vayas.

Upon discovering that my body and soul are totally devoted to this connection, there’s a level of trust and complicity that we never experienced before. Our gazes meet, communicating the burning desire to forget the world outside, and only dive into your inebriating eyes. Your kisses seal this moment. I don’t want you to leave.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ACT I: Toast and Coffee

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oscar stands in Pedro’s kitchen cooking lunch. Several pans are on hot burners and a delicious aroma fills the kitchen/living room area.

Oscar hums ‘Tuyo’ as he stirs boiling noodles in one pot and adds spices to a sauce in another. Just as he starts to strain the noodles Pedro pads into the living room wearing a pair of black boxer briefs and nothing else. His bed hair points in all directions. He yawns loudly and stretches his arms above his head.

Checking his watch, Oscar sees it’s a few minutes before noon.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day,” Oscar says cheerfully.

“How long have I been asleep?” Pedro asks as he stretches again.

“About ten hours, give or take. I guess I finally tired you out,” Oscar says with a sly grin as he begins to plate their lunch. “Did you want to eat inside or outside? It’s late enough that the sun is out and it's another beautiful LA day.”

“Let’s eat outside. I’ll show you the castle I told you about the other night.”

They take their plates, laden with a robust spaghetti in red sauce, out to the balcony.

A soft breeze blows and birds chirp cheerfully. As promised, Pedro points out the castle down the hill. They eat in a comfortable silence, savoring their meals, sipping on Casillero del Diablo. When they do speak the conversation is light and casual.

“About yesterday…" Oscar begins softly. "I’m so incredibly sorry if I hurt or scared you. That was not my intention at all,” he says, maintaining steady eye contact.

“My neck is still a little sore, but you didn’t hurt me. You just caught me off guard. Up to that second, everything had been so… sweet. When I found myself… pinned… to the shower wall, it was… well, it was hot, don't get me wrong. I love your passion. But it was also a bit sudden. I know I should have said something, but…”

“Mi Pedrito, mi tigre, mi amor… I dropped the ball on this, and I’m sorry. I should have been paying closer attention. The second you got on your knees, those sexy, slutty knees, I knew the dynamic of our relationship was changing. It was my responsibility to help you navigate that, and make sure I knew your limits. I know we said we were gonna talk about it when I got back last night, but seeing you lying naked in bed… I couldn’t help myself. But today this conversation is a top priority."

"Oh I know, I have been totally wrapped up in you myself. I don't blame you for getting carried away. I just want to try to do this right. It's all so new."

"It's something I've explored before, so let me guide you. Have you given any more thought to your safe words? I believe we decided that three would be a good starting point. Green, yellow and red.”

“I have! I know it’ll probably sound silly, but…” he laughs, then continues, “since we’ve both been dubbed ‘Space Daddies’, what if our words were astronomy related?” he asks enthusiastically.

“I like that. Did you have anything in particular in mind?”

“For green I think ‘moonlight’ would be good, because I’ve always felt safe in the moonlight. For yellow, I was thinking ‘starlight’, because sometimes stars look like they’re blinking, like caution lights. And for red, I was thinking ‘nova’, because it sounds like ‘no veh’, you know, no-go? But also because it’s an explosion, and things tend to stop pretty fast when they’ve exploded." Pedro laughs joyfully at his own joke.

“That they do, Pedrito, that they do,” Oscar says, his heart full and happy seeing Pedro back to his usual, goofy self. “I think those are excellent, mi vida. Let’s keep talking inside while I clean up the mess I’ve made in your kitchen,” he says, kissing Pedro tenderly on the forehead.

Collecting their empty dishes they go inside to clean up the kitchen. Pedro collects the cookware from the stove and stacks it neatly beside the sink. Oscar runs hot water and begins rinsing. Pedro wipes down the stove and surrounding countertops. Once he’s done all he can do, Pedro sits on a bar stool, facing Oscar, who is still rinsing dishes and putting them into the dishwasher.

“So… you mentioned yesterday wanting to do ‘truly depraved and brutal things with me…" Pedro begins, watching Oscar intently. “What sort of things do you imagine doing with me… to me?” he asks, his voice equal parts excited and timid.

Oscar smiles at Pedro and flicks water at him as he rinses the final dish.

“Well, since we’ve only just begun to explore our desires, let’s start off slow. What do you think about only being able to cum when I say you can?”

Pedro tilts his head slightly, considering what Oscar is asking him.

“You mean, like we did earlier, where you tell me to touch myself and to slow down so I don’t cum too fast?”

“Hmm, something like that. But let’s take it a step further. You can only touch yourself when I say you can, whether I'm here or not. And when I say you can touch yourself, know that I’m not giving you permission to cum. I might let you get close, so very close…” Oscar licks his lips at the thought of Pedro being desperate for release. “But until I give you permission, you’re not allowed to cum. And if you do… well, disobedience comes with punishment.”

“What… what sort of punishment?” Pedro asks, his eyebrows arching in fascinated curiosity.

“That’s something we’ll have to figure out together. What sort of punishment do you think you’d deserve for disobeying me, mi tigre?” he asks with a salacious grin.

Pedro bites his lip. “Well… since you’re talking about permissions, I suppose a fitting punishment for disobedience in this case would be not letting me cum at all?” he responds softly, looking at Oscar with a sad puppy expression, brows knitted together.

“If the disobedience continues, yes, that does seem a fitting punishment. Or perhaps I’ll overstimulate you, make you beg me to stop. You’ll be begging either way. Both sound equally delicious,” Oscar says, his smile devious.

Pedro’s eyes widen in shock. He’d never considered overstimulation before.

“But before it gets that far, you’ll be given warnings. The first warning may be verbal, but could also be something light, like a slap. I know you don’t really like harsh physical pain, so I’d never strike you hard… unless you wanted me to. But I think an open palm slap across the face, or on your ass, would be within your tolerance?”

“I think that would be ok. I definitely enjoyed it when you slapped my ass last night. As for my tolerance, I guess we’ll just have to discover it together.” A mischievous smirk tugs at his lips. “What other things did you want to do with me? Would these things be restricted to certain areas, like our homes? Or would we do stuff in public? Like… with the chance of being caught? The possibility of being caught… that… that actually sounds kind of exciting.”

“Oh, that turns you on, does it?” Oscar rubs his chin, contemplating the delightfully devious things he could make Pedro do while in the company of others.

“Yeah. My adrenaline always surges when the stakes are higher.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Speaking of public places, you’re going to the premier at the Dolby this evening, right?”

“Yeah, gotta support our fellow Space Sister, Diego!” Pedro replies enthusiastically.

“Space Sisters! I don’t know exactly where that name came from, but I love it! Did you want to go together in a ‘strictly platonic friends’ kind of way?”

“Yeah, that’s probably best. But maybe… we can fool around in the theater once the lights go down?” Pedro asks, winking playfully.

“Mi Pedrito travieso! What’s gotten into you? Have I awoken some sort of dormant beast in you?”

Pedro dismounts his stool as Oscar wipes down the counter a final time. Putting his arms around Oscar’s waist, Pedro nibbles Oscar’s earlobe.

“Si, papi,” Pedro purrs softly in Oscar’s ear.

Oscar shivers as the heat of Pedro’s breath causes a chill to run down his spine.

“Speaking of Space Sisters… Moon Knight and Din Djarin, who do you think would win in a fight?” Pedro asks cheerfully, resting his head on Oscar’s shoulder.

“Moon Knight, hands down! He’s got the power of Khonshu when he’s in his suit. No way Mando’s gonna beat that!”

“Excuse me, but Mando has a full suit of beskar! It’s impervious to everything. What’s Steven got? A mummy suit?” Pedro scoffs, laughing loudly and slaps Oscar’s shoulder.

Turning to face Pedro, Oscar says “Oh, you cheeky little minx. We’ve not even fully laid out the rules of play and you’re already begging for punishment. And I know just the thing. While you were sleeping I went into town and did a little shopping. Bring me the bag by the sofa and I’ll show you what I got,” Oscar says excitedly.

Pedro spots the bag by the sofa and brings it to the bar, handing it to Oscar, who is now sitting on a stool.

“It’s heavy. What’s in it?” Pedro asks, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Oscar rummages around in the bag, placing miscellaneous articles of clothing, rope and some industrial looking straps, onto the bar before finally pulling out a thin box. Pedro sits on the next stool, watching as the pile of mysteries grows. Pedro’s eyebrow arches as he tries to figure out exactly what he’s looking at on the bar and in Oscar’s hand. Oscar opens the box and pulls out a sleek black device with a ring attached. He also palms a small remote control.

“Uh… what the fuck is that Oscar?” Pedro asks, eyes wide, voice slightly raised.

“This, mi tigre, this is going to be your undoing. It’s a prostate massager with flexible teasers and internal warming. It’s remote controlled. That way, when you need… behavior modification, I can make adjustments discreetly. Let’s go try it on.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ACT II: The Test

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later Pedro and Oscar are in Pedro’s bedroom getting ready to head to the Dolby Theatre. Pedro stands in front of a full length mirror wearing an unbuttoned dress shirt and black boxer briefs. Oscar is dressed in a similar dress shirt and dress pants. Oscar buttons Pedro’s shirt while Pedro works on Oscar’s bow tie.

“Are you sure it feels ok? It’s not uncomfortable or poking anywhere it shouldn’t?” Oscar asks, his tone caring, full of concern.

“No, it’s fine. It doesn’t feel nearly as good as you do, but it’s still a pleasant sensation.”

“Want to test it out real quick, make sure everything is where it needs to be? Wouldn’t want to find out something’s wrong on the carpet.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Just keep it on low. I don’t want to become a Lonely Island song cliché,” Pedro quips with a smirk.

Oscar stifles a laugh and presses the power button. A Cheshire Cat grin manifests as Pedro’s breath catches and he moans softly. When Oscar doesn’t immediately turn the device off Pedro looks at him expectantly.

“Really? You’re gonna keep it turned on?” Pedro responds in a bratty tone, arching his eyebrow.

“Let’s test the range. I need to see how far away I can be and still have this thing function,” Oscar responds, ignoring Pedro’s sass for the time being.

Oscar steps out of Pedro’s bedroom and walks down the hallway. Every few feet he hits the up button and grins when he hears Pedro moan loudly. On his way back to the bedroom he can hear that Pedro’s moaning has softened, but comes in ragged gasps.

“I guess it’s got a pretty decent range, yeah?”

“Unless you want me to have to change, you need to turn that off, right now. I’m seriously going to cum any second,” Pedro pants, his tone a bit more commanding than he’d intended.

Oscar glares at Pedro for several seconds, maintaining unwavering eye contact, letting Pedro know that he overstepped by making demands. He finally switches the toy off, and Pedro sighs in relief when the silicone inside him stops vibrating.

"Did you just tell me what I NEED to do?" he says with a soft, menacing tone, eyes dark.

"Yep. And you did it, didn't you?" Pedro replies in a casually triumphant way, pursing his lips in a smirk.

"Testing me already? Tsk tsk tsk," Oscar clicks his tongue in disapproval, his harsh glare turning into a smirk of his own, which somehow makes him look even more threatening.

Stepping closer, invading Pedro’s personal space, Oscar wraps his right hand possessively around Pedro's straining erection. Oscar's other hand moves behind Pedro's hips to find the base of the toy, placed perfectly between his cheeks. Oscar pushes the toy into him in tiny pulses, each micro-movement causing Pedro to gasp. Oscar's right hand moves down to cup his balls firmly but not painfully.

"WHEN are you going to cum?" Oscar growls in his ear.

Pedro whimpers, "Please… I… oh my god," he barely manages between gasps.

"When?" Oscar demands, the grip of his right hand tightening slightly, just on the verge of becoming painful.

All trace of sass gone now, Pedro feels every part of his body electrified and aching with tension and excitement.

"When... when you give me permission, Daddy," Pedro pants.

"That’s my good boy. Don't forget," he warns, releasing Pedro from his grip. Pedro slumps in a combination of relief and longing for more. He can tell he’s in for a long evening.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ACT III: The Denial

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later they’re getting out of the studios private car in front of the Dolby Theater. A flurry of flashes momentarily blind them as they start walking towards the staging area near the start of the famous red carpet. They find Diego, exchange hugs, then get in line to walk down the long line of press. At each of the press stations, just as the interviewer is asking Pedro about his upcoming projects, Oscar hits the button on the remote nestled in his pocket. As the line progresses the intensity of the vibrations changes, up, down, never remaining consistent. Oscar delights when Pedro gasps just as he’s about to answer each reporter. The last reporter in line, their favorite, is Ash. Ash, the reporter who would eventually help birth Pedro’s title of “Cool Slutty Daddy” into the world. Oscar knows Pedro absolutely relishes the playful title and casual flirtation, but tries to play it down on Disney red carpets. That just isn’t a very Disney thing to talk about at one of the House of Mouse events.

Ash: “So Pedro, are you excited to see Diego in a Star Wars role?”

“Absolutely! I’m always happy to support a fellow…” He’s cut short as Oscar hits the button, increasing the frequency of vibrations of their new toy. Pedro coughs to cover the gasp. “Latino Space Sister!” he finishes quickly. Ash raises her eyebrow, silently asking if he’s ok. Pedro shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, urging her to continue.

Pedro answers a few more of Ash’s questions before being led off by Oscar into the venue. As other attendees are taking their seats Pedro notices that Oscar keeps glancing over his shoulder.

“What are you looking for, Oscar?” Pedro asks, trying to find where Oscar’s gaze keeps being drawn.

“I’m keeping an eye on the balcony. It looks like it’s closed off for the event. Once the lights go down I’m going to go up there and make sure it’s empty. I’ll text you when it’s all clear.”

Pedro nods and they both chit chat with other celebrities sitting around them as they wait. After about fifteen minutes the lights begin to dim and the theater goes dark. Another five minutes later Oscar taps Pedro’s hand and points up, indicating he’s going to check on the balcony situation. A few minutes later Pedro’s phone buzzes.

Pedro exits the auditorium, turns right, enters the first door on the right and mounts the stairs to the balcony. The path is lit by tiny running lights on either side of the steps. After a few moments Pedro finally sees light from the screen below. Oscar is sitting at the edge of the balcony, arms hanging over the rails, watching Diego tower over the audience on the projection screen.

“Hey,” Pedro says softly as he takes a seat next to Oscar.

Oscar turns to face him, cups Pedro’s face in his hands, and kisses him greedily. During the kiss Oscar presses the power button on the remote. Pedro moans into Oscar’s mouth as the sensation rocks him. Oscar gets up from his chair and stands before Pedro, his silhouette blocking the screen. Oscar places his left foot against the inside of Pedro’s right foot, and with his right he forces Pedro’s legs apart.

Oscar gazes into Pedro’s eyes as he works to undo Pedro’s belt buckle. Oscar can see Pedro’s eyes grow dark with desire as he works on the button and zipper. Pedro lifts his hips as Oscar moves to pull his pants and boxers down. A devilish grin spreading across his face, Oscar presses the up button on the remote in his pocket. Pedro gasps audibly. Crouching before him, Oscar grips Pedro’s shaft possessively and begins to stroke him slowly. After a few moments Pedro is gripping the arms of his seat, breathing heavily. With each moan Oscar changes his pace. Faster, slower, faster. He presses another button on the remote and Pedro groans in delight as the device he’s been fitted with begins to get warm.

“Fuck…” Pedro grunts hoarsely.

“Are you close, mi tigre?” Oscar asks.

“Yes, Daddy, I’m so fucking close. Can I cum, Daddy? Daddy, please?

“No, mi tigre, you cannot,” Oscar purrs.

Oscar gets up off his haunches, sits down beside Pedro, and turns off the device. His demeanor edging on boredom. Pedro whimpers at the loss of Oscar’s hand on his now throbbing, aching cock, and the loss of heat and vibration from the device embedded inside him. Pedro moves his hand to stroke himself to finish. Oscar slaps it away.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear before,” Oscar says in a velvety tone. “I said you CANNOT touch yourself without my permission. And I do NOT give you permission to touch yourself, nor do I give you permission to cum, mi osito.” Oscar smiles sweetly at his pet.

Pedro whimpers again and moves to pull up his pants. Oscar reaches a gentle hand out to stop him. Pedro looks at him with glistening, sad eyes, which glint in the light from the screen below. Oscar just shakes his head, not looking at Pedro for more than a few seconds. When Pedro puts his hands on the armrests again he starts stroking them absentmindedly. Oscar places his left hand over Pedro’s right and gently strokes his fingers, letting his own trace over and move between Pedro’s restless fingers. Several minutes later, when he sees that Pedro has calmed down, and is no longer breathing heavily, Oscar reaches over and begins to stroke Pedro again. He’s almost instantly hard at Oscar’s touch. Moving deliriously slow, Oscar brings Pedro to the brink again, then stops, occasionally employing the prostate massager. This continues in 30 minute increments for the duration of the premier. Luckily for Pedro the screening is not longer than two hours. As the credits start to roll Oscar tells Pedro to make himself presentable because they have to be social before he can take Pedro home.

Pedro inhales sharply. “Please, Daddy. I’ve never been so desperate…” he moans, “as I am right now.”

Oscar moans softly in response. “You don’t know desperate yet, darling,” Oscar purrs softly.

“I’m so fucking horny, Daddy. Will you please let me cum when we get home?” Pedro asks softly. “Please?” he begs, barely above a whisper, desperation evident in his voice.

“Yes, mi osito, I’ll let you cum when we get home. If you behave.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ACT IV: The Release

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oscar stands in front of the glass walls in Pedro’s bedroom, staring out over the twinkling city, as he removes his clothes. He turns around to face Pedro, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, awaiting instruction, looking a little nervous. Oscar crosses the room, takes Pedro’s hands, and pulls him to his feet. He begins to slowly undress Pedro.

“Do you remember the words, mi tigre?” Oscar asks, making direct eye contact with Pedro, his expression serious. He unbuttons Pedro’s shirt, shrugs it over his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor with his own. Pedro’s pants and boxer briefs soon join the pile.

“Yeah, I remember,” he nods and looks away, slightly embarrassed.

“Look at me. Say them. Tell me what they are. I want to be absolutely certain you understand before we start.” Oscar cups Pedro’s chin and gently turns his head so that Pedro has to look at him.

“Green is ‘moonlight’, yellow is ‘starlight’ and red is ‘nova’,” he responds, maintaining eye contact this time.

“Good. I don’t want you to forget once we get started. Use them if you need them, but don’t feel like you have to say them just to say them. Now, lie down in the middle of the bed and get comfortable… we’re gonna be here for a while,” he says, a mischievous smile slowly emerging.

Pedro does as instructed, propping himself up with a stack of pillows so that he’s reclining slightly. Oscar climbs onto the bed and straddles Pedro’s hips, sitting on his thighs.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Not quite like this, no. I’ve changed pace before, but never prolonged it more than a few minutes. How… how long do you plan to stretch it out?” he asks, his brows knitting with concern.

“Until I feel like you’ve earned it. I’m going to stroke this beautiful cock of yours until you’re begging me to let you cum, mi Pedrito travieso (my naughty Pedrito). And when I feel you’re sufficiently desperate for it… that’s when I’ll let you cum for me. There are only three very simple rules you have to follow once we start. One, you can only refer to me as “Daddy”. Two, no touching. This means no touching me, and absolutely no touching yourself. I don’t want to have to restrain you, mi tigre, but I will if necessary. Three, you’re going to have to show me, beg me, to let me know just how badly you want it. But, if I see you’re getting too eager, too close to disobeying me… I’ll have to stop until you’ve regained control over yourself. Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Pedro responds obediently.

Oscar reaches down and firmly clasps Pedro in his fist, but doesn’t begin to stroke yet.

“Do you feel that? My hand on your delicious cock?”

Pedro nods and sighs heavily.

“Good. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels,” Oscar whispers as he begins pumping Pedro slowly.

“That...” Pedro moans. “that feels so good, Daddy,” Pedro says with a shiver.

Oscar doesn’t respond verbally; he just strokes languidly, agonizingly so. Pedro’s hips buck gently under Oscar’s weight, causing Oscar to stop, realizing Pedro is already so close to disobedience.

“Oh no, this just won’t do. I’ve barely touched you and you’ve already started to buck. You’ve still got to earn it baby. Now focus, or this will be agonizingly slow,” Oscar says.

Pedro nods and Oscar resumes his slow stroking. His free hand gently traces lines across Pedro’s chest, pinching his nipples. Pedro moans softly.

Pedro moans loudly, “Have you ever craved it? Craved it so badly…” he gasps, “that it hurts?”

“I just wanna hear you say it, Daddy. I wanna hear you say I have to”, he moans, “beg you,” his breath hitches and he gasps, “to let me cum.”

“If you want to cum… you’re gonna have to earn it, mi puta (my whore).”

“Please,” Pedro begs.

“Please. Please. Please.” Pedro sighs in frustration. “Daddy, please.”

“Daddy loves hearing you beg,” Oscar moans. “Hearing you sound sooo fucking DESPERATE to please me.”

“You promised,” Pedro responds in a soft voice.

“Please! Please! Please…” he begs desperately.

“No! Not yet,” Oscar responds, impatience creeping into his tone.

“Baby,” Pedro pleads plaintively.

Oscar slaps Pedro across the face. The sound reverberates in the quiet room.

“No me digas baby, mi pecadorcito. No recuerdo haber dicho que podías dejar de suplicar, (don’t call me baby, my little sinner. I don't remember saying that you could stop begging)” Oscar says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Perdóname, Papi (forgive me, Daddy),” Pedro apologizes.

“Parece que no lo quieres tanto, tampoco suenas desesperado (it seems that you don't want it so much, you don't sound desperate either).”

“Daddy, Please! I want… need… you to let me cum. You promised.”

“I said no.”

Pedro sighs again, his frustration growing. “Daddy, please. Fuck.”

“Oh my god…” Pedro gasps out of breath.

“Please, Daddy, you promised you’d let me cum this time,” Pedro laments.

“Fuck.”

“Let me cum, Daddy! I need it! I need it… so fucking badly,” Pedro pleads desperately.

“Fuck, please,” Pedro begs.

“Fuck… you promised. Ooooh…”

Oscar’s cock twitches at Pedro’s last gasp. Pedro stares at it with unbridled lust. Oscar moans and reaches for the lube. After quick, liberal application to himself and Pedro he slowly slides into Pedro’s tight ass. They both moan as he moves deeper. Oscar moves slowly, almost imperceptibly, while continuing to stroke Pedro’s cock.

“Please… baby,” he whispers softly.

Oscar smacks Pedro across the face again.

Pedro’s entire body shudders from the sudden, but expected, contact.

“Fuck. Oh fuck.”

“I’m gonna… oh fuck.”

“I said no,” Oscar says again, his tone more forceful.

“Fuck. I’m…” Pedro moans, “I’m—”

“We’re almost there baby, almost there…” Oscar says encouragingly.

Pedro moans desperately, barely able to breathe.

“You look sufficiently desperate now. Do you think you’ve earned it yet, mi puta?”

“Yes, yes, I’m…”

“Yes! Fuck yes… yes!” Pedro exclaims.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you beg,” Oscar says softly.

“Cum for me, Pedrito,” Oscar says, finally granting his pet the permission he’s been begging so long for.

“I’m…” Pedro begins, but as soon as his brain registers that he’s finally been given permission he’s been longing for, he cums hard, almost on demand. His body trembles from his orgasm and he moans loudly. The sheer force of his release expels the air from his lungs, rendering him unable to speak momentarily.

Oscar cums as Pedro rides the wave of his own orgasm.

“Fuck,” Pedro sighs.

His body still trembling, Pedro says, “God, that was… fucking… incredible, Daddy. Thank you.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

[wildemaven]

omg one of my favorite fluffy javi fics EVER is "beat the heat" by @pedrito-friskito. was just thinking about it the other day & crying over how fucking cute it is 🥺💕

So cute!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing, I think I read it last year but totally forgot about it!! Loved it all over again!! @pedrito-friskito giving us soft Javi meet-cutes!

[prolix-yuy]

DARLING!! You deserve every follower and more- you and your blog are one of my fave things on our beloved hellsite. <3 <3

For my request, can I be vague? I would love any Pedro boy of your choosing with the topic Fear of Failure. Everything is your choice. If you want to talk specifics, message me <3

Congrats x

So this worked out perfectly, because @pedrito-friskito also requested Fear of Failure for SW!Frankie. While I'm writing her other prompt from her request, I still wanted to indulge in our favorite soft and feral boy. And who better to write that for than the most lovely Laura - you might have been one of the first people to scream at me about SW!Frankie and made me feel like part of this wonderful community. This one's for you, my dear, love you for always.

Flight Plan

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader "Ms Jackson"

Summary: Frankie takes a step in a good direction, and Ms Jackson has an important question.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, oral sex (m and f receiving), safe PiV sex, some thigh worship as a treat, little bit of subby!Frankie, some praise kink for our best boy, Frankie dealing with some self-worth issues, a bunch of soft angst with a lot more fluff to even it out.

Notes: Remember how I said I'd keep these requests under 2k for my sanity? How cute was that? Plus it's SW!Frankie my beloved, how can I not wax poetic on my love for him? This takes place after Rosalie, about ten months into their relationship.

Cross-posted on AO3

Sex Worker!Frankie AU Masterlist

“Hey babe.” 

Frankie’s voice peeks in from your living room. Walking in, hands wrapped in a towel still damp from the sink, you give him a curious little look.

“Hmm?” you hum before seeing Frankie, hesitant with a stack of books on your coffee table. “What’s up?” you add, sitting down on the ottoman in front of him. He fiddles with his hands briefly, sweeping his fingers through matted locks and resettling his cap on his head.

“So I, um, I’m gonna start studying for my relicensure,” he says in a rush, like he’s been keeping it inside for so long his lips can’t contain it further. 

“Frankie, that’s fantastic,” you squeal, throwing the towel to the side and scooting next to him on the couch, a bright smile following. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess, it’s just…jeez, it’s a lot. I forgot how much reading and all I’d have to do.” He takes your hand and squeezes it briefly. “And I have to log flight hours, because I waited so long my previous hours don’t apply anymore. So I might be…really busy for a while.” He worries at the back of your hand, your smile softening.

“Hey.” You direct his attention from the books to your face. “I’m proud of you for doing this. You take all the time you need. Can I help with anything?” Frankie’s face breaks out into the beatific smile saved for very special occasions. 

“God, I love you,” he says, pulling you in for a firm kiss. You smile against his mouth.

“I’m not quitting Will’s, or anything more than getting the license back,” he clarifies when he parts from your mouth. “I just…it’s a mistake I want to rectify. And maybe I’ll get a few more years of flying private before I’m grounded…” 

“Whatever you want out of it, I’m happy you’re doing it,” you cut in, leaning into your boyfriend’s side as he squeezes you. “And don’t stress, we’ll be fine. You know where to find me.” Getting up to shut the house down for bed, Frankie darts his fingers into your back pocket and tugs you back into his arms, resting his head against your stomach.

“Right here,” he murmurs into your shirt, your fingers finding the soft sliver of skin and hair on the back of his neck.

“Right here,” you repeat fondly.

Frankie studying for his relicensure is much like how you’ve seen him engulfed in carpentry or changing the oil in his truck. He’s focused, laser-sharp. When he’s on a roll he’s fast and crazily accurate in his work and observations. You admit to yourself that if you ever saw him flying, that amazing brain and his trained body working in tandem, you might melt into a puddle of hormones. It’s all you can do to keep your hands off him when his brow is furrowed in a textbook or he’s making complex calculations look like third grade math problems. 

Will makes Frankie’s schedule more flexible so he can log his flight hours early in the morning and work in the afternoon. The boys were equally enthusiastic about his endeavor, and while you assume they don’t want to embarrass Frankie you do catch them a few times with their hands on his shoulders, giving him low words of encouragement he blushes and blunders through.

“It’s gonna be good for him,” Santi says, sipping out the dregs of his beer next to you on the sports bar’s outdoor patio. “Flying’s the only time I’ve really seen Frankie out of his own head. It gives him…relief, I think. Calm in the focus it requires. I always felt safer with Frankie flying than anyone else.” Santi nudges your shoulder with his. “You’ll see. I’m sure he’ll take you up once he’s passed.” You huff a laugh.

“Seeing him like that…hmmm, might have to keep me strapped in the back,” you say nonchalantly, and Santi coughs on his final sip.

“Shit, I don’t want to hear that!” Santi whines, spinning around to shout at Frankie across the patio, “Fish, tell your girlfriend I don’t want to know what gets you going in the bedroom!” Frankie’s ears turn a cute shade of pink and you lightly punch Santi in the pec. 

“Thought you had no secrets left after Pope’s,” you tease, Santi rolling his eyes.

“Ignorance is bliss, Ms J.”

With the studying and the flight hours, your time together does get compressed into smaller and more exhausted segments. Frankie’s up early sending you “good morning” texts before going to the airfield. He leaves work later in the evening too, and after the first few days of him going to his apartment to study you strongarm him into spending the nights with you. 

“You’ll get a home cooked meal, you can use my office which is way better than your couch and coffee table, and I promise I’ll leave you to work,” you counted off, and Frankie found it hard to argue with your logic. He brought a duffel bag of clothes and necessities the next day. You already had a spot in your closet for him, and a drawer in your dresser cleaned out. 

“Some might say you were waiting for me to stay longer than a few nights,” he joked, but you could tell from the way he stared too long at his clothes hanging next to yours that he didn’t mind the idea. 

So you fell into a comfortable rhythm over the next several weeks. Early mornings, late afternoons and evenings, dinner together even if it’s rushed, then you do the dishes and watch some TV while Frankie pores over his textboots until you urge him into bed. He’s often passed out within minutes of touching the pillow, and the soft domesticity of just sharing a bed with someone you love makes a tiny spark of a plan crackle in your mind. 

“It’s scheduled,” Frankie says before he’s even in the door. 

“What?” you ask, distracted by the food cooking on the stove. Frankie’s panting a little bit, even though he’s only walked the few steps from his truck to your front door.

“The test. Next week,” he says, and realization brightens your features. 

“Oh shit, wow, it’s almost here,” you say, but the moment you do you catch a flash of darkness across Frankie’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s…shit, it’s really close,” he murmurs. Your heart sinks.

“You’re going to do great. Look at all of the work you’ve been putting in. I know you’re going to pass.” Despite your eagerness, Frankie is working through something in his head, something deeper than you have access to right now. “C’mon, let’s have dinner, you must be starving.” You lace your fingers with his and lead him to the dining table, dishing him out a plate as he sits down heavily. 

It takes most of the meal for him to say anything, your voice filling the air with the events of your day, him following along with the appropriate noises of acknowledgement. As you’re cleaning the dishes, wrist-deep in soapy water, two thick arms circle your waist, Frankie’s head nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up like I’ve done with all the good things I’ve had,” he says into your hair. You lean back against his solid chest, warmth seeping into your bones even as the vulnerability in Frankie’s voice pulls at your heart.

“You haven’t fucked up nearly as many things as you think,” you quip back, turning your face to press a kiss to his brow. Frankie hums noncommittally. “You haven’t fucked this up,” you say, stroking your sudsy fingers along the back of his arm. He inhales your scent deeply, burying his nose behind your ear. “Couldn’t do it if you tried. You’re stuck with me for the long haul,” you add as lightly as you can, but there’s a tremor in your voice that you try to play off. Frankie definitely notices, because in a moment he’s manhandling you away from the sink and spinning you around in his arms. Once he’s got you chest-to-chest, he backs you up to the counter and pins your hips with his own.

“Don’t I know it,” he rumbles into your jaw as he captures your parted lips in a heady kiss. You moan into his mouth, senses immediately ignited. Fanning his fingers against your cheek, he holds you steady as he laves his lips and tongue along your skin. “Don’t I love it,” he adds, grabbing the meat of your ass and lifting you swiftly up to sit on the counter. “Is this the longest we’ve gone without having sex?” he groans into your chest, mouthing at your collarbone as his thumb travels up your leg to the apex of your thighs. You chuckle breathlessly, weaving your fingers into his curls and tugging them gently.

“Didn’t want to distract you, but sweetie, you are so sexy when you’re concentrating,” you rasp out, a choked noise blooming against the pillowy flesh of your breast as Frankie leaves a soft bite on the top.

“Only one thing I want to concentrate on right now,” he mumbles as he moves back up to kiss you messily, full of need and promise. Then he wraps your legs around his waist and takes you to bed, and reminds you how excellent it is to not just sleep next to Frankie. 

Watching the clock makes you anxious, so you decide to putter around in the garden and pluck some errant weeds while you wait for Frankie. His test is today, and as much as you wanted to be there to support him (even taking the day off), he asked you to stay home.

“I’m nervous enough as is. If I have to think about you waiting for me in the car it’ll just make it worse,” he said, and you couldn’t fault him for wanting space. “Plus I might need the drive to clear my head after everything. It’s a long day.” You hummed your acquiescence and stepped into his space, wrapping your arms around his soft waist and pressing your face into his chest. He smelled like fresh soap and warm laundry and the faint musk of nervous sweat. Immediately his arms were around you, taking his own breath of your hair, chest expanding under your cheek.

“You’ll call me if you need anything?” you asked, and he hummed in agreement. Pulling away you searched his face, creased with nerves but you could also see soft confidence behind it all. 

“Kiss for luck?” you suggested, and his brief chuckle and bright smile preceded his mouth slotting to yours. You fit perfectly now, months of practice and care and love making a kiss always more than just a touching of lips. It’s an I believe in you, an I’m here for you, and I know you can do it. His mouth’s response is the same two words spoken over and over again: thank you.

That was hours ago, and the waiting is coming close to driving you insane. Deep down you knew he would pass, but the tiny kernel of fear that something would go wrong still lived in your stomach. Dirt and sunlight helped push it down for the time being.

You’re on your second bed, gloves abandoned so you could feel out the delicate roots of the infringing weed, when a slamming door startles you. Perking up out of the tomato plants, you listen. Footsteps are approaching, and quickly. Before you have a chance to stand the back screen door bursts open, and Frankie is practically leaping through it. He peers around before whipping his head to you, your head at waist level as you look up at him. You dare not react, waiting for what the next moment will bring.

Frankie smiles, and it’s sunshine after weeks of clouds.

“I did it,” he says breathlessly, and your own smile joins. 

“You did it,” you gasp, and a wash of relief threatens to spring tears to your eyes. “I knew…” you start to say, but Frankie interrupts by barreling you over and flattening you against the grass, shrieking laughter following. He crushes you in his arms, letting out his own fit of relieved laughter. You wind your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, letting him settle between your legs. 

“I’m so happy for you, Frankie,” you murmur into the top of his head, squeezing him tightly. He finally lets up his tight hold, planting both hands by your head to hover over you. His silhouette glows with the strength of the sun behind him, and he descends to kiss you slowly, languidly, parting your lips to dip his tongue into your mouth and slide it against your own. He takes his time, peppering kisses along your neck and chest before returning to claim your mouth again.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he husks, coming down on his elbows so he can stroke your temple and watch you with an adoration you don’t feel you deserve.

“You did all the hard work,” you joke, kissing his thick thumb as he swipes it over your mouth. Shrugging and quirking a lopsided smile, he cups the back of your neck.

“True, you definitely don’t know how to fly a helo,” he snarks, and you giggle and push at his shoulder. “But you did keep me fed, and rested, and supported. I needed that, and it helped a lot.” The world shrinks down to just you and Frankie, tangled up on your lawn with ants probably crawling on your clothes and dirt crammed under your fingernails. You fit together so completely you can barely remember the life you had before him. 

“Screw it,” you say, taking his free hand and lacing your fingers together. “I was going to wait until after the celebration -” Frankie’s eyebrows shoot up at that, but you give him a ‘wait’ gesture so he holds his tongue. “- but I don’t want to wait another minute.” Frankie’s brow wrinkles, his thumb stroking against your skin absentmindedly. 

“I want you to move in with me.”

Frankie’s first reaction is a quick laugh, his confusion morphing to surprise, then happiness that warms you all over.

“I…shit, babe, yeah. Yeah I really want to move in with you.” He drops his head to touch your foreheads together, gathering you back into his embrace. “Want to walk in that door and never leave again,” he murmurs close to your ear. 

“Please do,” you whisper back. “Please never leave.”

“Never again.”

A quick text sent when Frankie finally lets you up brings the boys around for a much-needed celebration. Santi arrives first, carting a thirty rack of beer and a bottle of whiskey with a hasty bow tied around it. They talk low and warmly while you dump ice in a cooler and begin heating the backyard grill Frankie begged you to get. The idea of him out here during the summer, shirt sticking to his back as you watch him from a lawn chair, makes you smile secretly.

“Nice digs you got here, Ms Jackson, why don’t you ever host the shindigs?” Santi asks as he lopes over to greet you. 

“Maybe we will now that Frankie’ll be here more,” you say with a sly smile. Santi’s face lights up.

“You’re kidding me? Fish is finally moving in?” You wink at him.

“I guess we’re in it for the long haul now,” you joke, and after a laugh from Santi he pulls you into a hug.

“I’m so glad for you both. Frankie loves you so much, and we love you too,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Love you too, Santi,” you say, crushed in his bracing hug. 

Benny and Will come a half hour later, Will with the grill supplies and Benny with an aloe plant.

“For the housewarming. Santi texted,” he says, handing it to Frankie. 

“You brought a fucking houseplant to a party?” Frankie asks with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s what you do when someone moves into a new place! You get them a plant!”

“I haven’t moved in yet, dipshit. Plus where the hell did you even get this?” 

You sweep in and take the aloe plant from Frankie, placing it on a side table near the front window.

“It’s lovely, Benny, thank you,” you placate, ending the ribbing with hugs for both the Miller brothers. 

“See, I told you,” Benny murmurs as you walk away stifling a laugh. 

The day winds into an evening on your porch, string lights illuminating everyone’s faces with a soft orange glow. You contemplate your backyard and where you might be able to add a firepit of your own, maybe some adirondack chairs. Will joins you in leaning against the railing as Benny rapid-fires questions about the test at Frankie.

“You know, we could all get used to this,” Will says, waving his bottle at the scene around you. “Maybe we switch off weekends. Make Frankie cook for a change.” You nod and sip at your beer, the glow of good food and conversation lifting the blanket of anxiety the last few weeks laid over your shoulders.

“I’d like that. I think Frankie would too,” you say. Will’s stoic expression cracks and one of the lucky smiles you pull out of him comes to the surface.

“Good, because I’m tired of Benny saying he’ll do cleanup and then fucking off,” he faux grumbles. You shake your head as Santi balances a box of grocery store brownies over to the table and swats Frankie’s hand away when he tries to snag one first.

“I think a little mess is worth it for all this,” you reply thoughtfully. Will hums in agreement.

Santi, Will and Benny leave earlier than you thought they would, most barbecues ending late in the evening. Though you think it might have been the pointed stares you catch Frankie doling out that urges them to take their leave early. 

You were just placing the last of the dishes in the sink when Frankie comes up behind you, tugging you away from the counter and scooping you up in his arms and towards the bedroom.

“Ohhh, so this is why you practically swept our friends out the door,” you whisper in his ear, nipping at the lobe playfully. He groans low in his throat before tossing you onto the bed, following quickly to pin your wrists above your head, hips slotted between your thighs. 

“I don’t hear you complaining,” he teases, nosing down your jaw and neck before leaving a hot kiss at the base of your throat. “Been wanting to celebrate just the two of us for hours.” 

“Could have celebrated before the boys got here,” you flirt back, wrapping your legs around his waist to feel his hardening cock against you. He buries a little moan in your chest as he licks underneath your neckline. 

“Not enough time,” he murmurs, lifting back up to look you in the eyes. His pupils are blown out with need, lips parted and tongue peeking out to taste your salt on his skin. “I want to take my time ruining you in our bed, sweetheart.” The thrill of his emphasis on our makes you roll your hips against him. “Want to break this headboard so I can make you a new one,” he chuckles darkly.

“Soon,” you placate before rolling him onto his back, the oomf of surprise his only protest as you straddle his narrow hips and press down on his broad chest. “But tonight, I want you to lie back and enjoy yourself.” The rumble that reverberates through his chest tingles down your spine and into the cradle of your hips, making you grind against him again. “And to start, I’m going to undress you.”

Your fingers slide under Frankie’s band shirt, skimming along his soft stomach as he tenses below you. His smile twists into the playful wicked one he brings out when he’s letting you have your way but will take control back any minute. Hands kneading your thighs, he drinks in your visage as you tease his shirt over his head. When he tries to bring his hands back to your hips you press them beside his head.

“I said this was about you tonight, handsome,” you tut, draping your body along his thrumming one below you. Pinning his hands in the pillow, you kiss along his scruffy jawline, burying your nose in his wild curls and brushing your lips along the shell of his ear.

“You’re going to keep your hands here, and let me finish undressing you. Then I’m going to ride your gorgeous cock until you can’t stand it any longer and you cum hard for me.” 

Frankie honest-to-goodness whines and the sound, so foreign coming from his throat, makes arousal pulse dangerously in your cunt. You’re so used to him driving the show, being the one in charge of your pleasure, that this reversal is making a heady sort of power go to your head. You roll your clothed core against his straining erection slowly, the friction eliciting a raspy gasp.

“Is that a yes, gorgeous boy?” you tease, and Frankie’s groaned yes makes you clench against his waiting cock. Sitting back up on his trim hips, Frankie does indeed keep his hands by his head, but grips the soft folds of the pillow. Another rock of your hips has him squeezing his eyes shut and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, and you’re absolutely soaked as he weakly thrusts up against you.

“Baby, you feel so good,” he croaks out, already wrecked and your slow progression kicks into overdrive. You swing your leg off his hips and quickly unbutton and unzip his jeans. Two taps to his hip has him lifting them so you can tug the denim down his tense thighs. Your mouth waters as he lays bare before you, eyes peeling back open to watch you with curiosity and lust.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful, taking charge. Love you like this,” he pants, the glistening head of his cock thumping against his stomach and leaving a wet stain below his bellybutton. The urge to claim Frankie, to feel him beneath your teeth and listen to more of those delicious sounds takes over. Leaning over, you sink your teeth gently into his thigh, lapping your tongue over the fast-disappearing grooves you leave.

“Oh shit, baby, fuck, fuck me, that feels so…” Frankie dissolves into another low groan as your mouth explores the oft-neglected flesh, hand wrapping around his cock to pump him slowly as you taste his skin. One particularly daring suck on his inner thigh, similar to the hickies he’s left between your legs, makes him shake and shudder so hard you store that spot away for later.

“Baby, baby, please let me feel you. Want to open you up for me, sweetheart, get you ready for my cock, god fuck baby, I’m so fucking hard, you’ve got me so goddamn hard for you,” Frankie starts to babble, hips rolling into the slow channel of your hand as your mouth skims along its path to the aching tip of his cock. When you look up at him, Frankie’s mouth is dropped open in silent amazement, eyes half-lidded and a sheen of sweat gathering at his throat. His arms are corded with tense muscles as he fists his hands beside his head, fabric creaking in his grip

“Good boy,” you croon, and the deep flush that brings to his complexion makes him even more beautiful. You smile sweetly up at him before sliding as much of his cock into your mouth as you can take.

“Ohhhhh fuck,” Frankie moans as you liberally coat him with your spit, dragging it down his length and suckling at his plush tip as he lets multilingual curses drip from his lips. You can feel his balls pulling up fast, his eyes rolling back at the speed his orgasm is approaching, and just as you sense him coming to the point of no return, his toes curling and back bowing, you grip the base of his cock and take your mouth off him.

Frankie’s vocalizations are barely short of a roar, rough gasps and growls as you stave off his orgasm. His eyes flick down to capture yours and oh, this is a side of Frankie you love. Roiling with sexual energy, desperate to rut and fuck and pound into your waiting cunt. You love that you’ve brought this side out all by yourself.

“Ready for me to fuck you, Francisco?” you purr, a very different fuck yes coming through clenched teeth this time. It takes all of a moment to straddle his hips again, fishing a condom out of the bedside drawing and rolling it on him with practiced ease before pumping his thick wet cock just at your entrance. There’s a brief flash of concern on his face, grip loosening in the blankets.

“Baby, let me get you ready for me,” he murmurs, a hand drifting down to your folds. Before he can touch you shoot him a stern look, halting his progress. 

“Hands. By. Your head,” you order in staccato, waiting for him to comply. “As much as I love how thorough you are before giving me your fucking perfect cock…” You pause just long enough to seat his head inside you, your arousal and saliva slicking the way beautifully. “...I want to feel every inch of you stretch me out, Frankie. Want to feel so stuffed with you I can barely breathe. That okay with you, baby?” you ask. A third, weak yes is what begins your descent.

You thought it might be harder to take him, your cunt too tight around his thick length, but you’re practically dripping with arousal, and the stretch of him inside you is a blooming of pleasure. Shallowly fucking yourself, you finally engulf him fully in your heat.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck, shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, are you okay? Oh my god, I’m gonna…I’m barely inside and I’m gonna…fuck, baby, you’re gonna have to get off, it’s too good, I’m gonna cum if you don’t…” Frankie begs, eyes scrunched shut and mouth hanging open as he pants and squirms between your thighs. You’ve never felt so beautiful and powerful than this moment, Frankie pleading beneath you as you hold his pleasure in the palm of your hand.

“Francisco,” you coo, pressing down harder on his hips to pin him to the mattress. “You’re going to have to wait until I tell you to cum. I’m going to have my fill of you first.” His shuddering breath lets you know he’s trying his best. When he finally opens his eyes and looks at you, your wicked smile shoots his eyebrows into his curls.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps before you start fucking him in earnest. 

You’ve ridden Frankie’s cock many times before, but he always likes to hold your hips, your waist, fondle your thighs and breasts as he thrusts up into you, giving you a modicum of control before wrecking you from below. Now, he’s shaking and writhing in waves of pleasure as you give and take in equal measures. His head drags past that perfect soft spot inside you, your fingers itching to rub your clit but intent on making Frankie fall apart first. He’s so close, neck straining as he simultaneously chases his peak and staves it off, his eyes questioning and locked on your lips. The flex of his stomach, the bulge of his biceps, veins standing out on his hands as he holds on for dear life, all make you rush to give him what he wants. You could never deny Frankie for long.

“You want to cum gorgeous?” you pant, the exertion beginning to burn in your thighs but the buttery wetness too addicting to stop. 

“Please, baby, I want…” Frankie moans, a deep grind inside your cunt knocking the words from his mouth. “Please, please, please baby.”

Your heart swells, dropping down to lick into Frankie’s mouth as he chases your kiss hungrily. 

“You can cum, baby, been such a good boy for me,” you whisper. Frankie moans into your mouth and pistons his hips up and into the sucking clutch of your cunt. It knocks the air out of you, arching your back and slamming back against him to drive him deeper.

“Baby please, want to cum with you on my tongue. Climb up, climb up, climb up,” Frankie growls, hands finally releasing from the pillow and wrapping around your thighs. With a grunt he pushes you up his chest as he slides down until his mouth is devouring your cunt. 

“Frankie, shit baby, wanted you to cum inside,” you try to say, but he’s sucking at the wet mess of your folds and lashing his tongue against your clit so fast you can’t help but rock on his face. One hand releases your thigh and you hear the elastic snap of the condom being ripped off. The slick sounds of him stripping his cock behind you pulls your orgasm to the surface, Frankie’s own so close behind you can almost taste it as sharply as he’s tasting you.

“Cum on my face, sweetheart, need it,” Frankie growls between your legs, wild brown eyes and a flash of teeth all you can see before he sucks your clit into his plush mouth and tongues messy thick patterns that pull you over the edge.

You’re vaguely aware of Frankie’s own moans, the wet spurt of cum painting your ass and lower back. Miraculously, your hands find the headboard so you don’t crush him as you rock and shudder on his waiting mouth. When you can open your eyes again, Frankie’s head is tossed back on the pillow, hands splayed on your thighs and squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers. 

“Fuck, that was so good baby,” Frankie rasps, torso rolling underneath you as he flips you on your back. You go willingly, limbs only able to flop gracelessly to the mattress as Frankie crawls up to your level. 

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we? Had to make it special,” you chuckle as Frankie drags you into his arms, yours and his cum making you sticky in the sheets. You’ll have to change them tomorrow. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a moment with you that wasn’t special,” Frankie murmurs, cupping your cheek and softly kissing you, the taste of you still bright on his tongue. 

“Oooh, that was smooth,” you huff, but it barely stops the soft exchange of lips and breath. 

“Better get used to it, I’m going to be around a lot more now,” Frankie teases. His smile betrays how happy that makes him. “Anything I should know before we’re officially roommates?” You roll your eyes, curling one of his brown locks around your fingers.

“Wednesdays are my show nights, and you are not allowed to change the channel,” you say sternly, the twinkle of mischief glistening in his eyes. “There is always a pint of ice cream in the back of the freezer. And,” you say, snuggling in closer to his expanse of warm, soft skin that always belonged in this bed with you, “I want you to kiss me good night and good morning.”

Frankie’s gaze softens, stroking the apple of your cheek with his thumb as your eyes pull shut.

“I can do that.”

END

The story continues in Callback

[x-avantgarde-x]

Keep you safe-Bruno Madrigal

Summary: ten years ago your husband, Bruno left the familia Madrigal. Ten years ago Bruno left you, his pregnant wife behind. Now, ten years later, he is back. With everything this brings.

Warnings: angst, and I haven’t proofread this. A little something for all my Bruno fans as an apology for being taking so long with the requests 😭💖

———————————————————————

Ten years ago the infamous Bruno Madrigal left the family and disappeared from his home town, nobody knowing what had been of him. Ten years ago your husband, Bruno, the love of your life, left you and your newborn son all by yourselves without and explanation to why or what had lead him to this.

It’s been a few weeks since Bruno came back into your and everyone from the familia Madrigal’s lives, given the repairs of the Casita you’ve barely had time to speak a word with him, most times trying to avoid being alone with him given the conversation it would lead you two to have.

On the other hand, your kid, Pedro, has spent most of his time by his dad’s side. Whenever you turn to check on your pequeño you always see him close to Bruno, rambling with him, helping him in whatever way he can, or playing with his dad and his rats while they take a rest from their daily activities. It warms your heart to see your baby so happy and fascinated with his papa, and the smile on Bruno’s face makes yourself melt into a puddles on the floor. But there is always that uneasy feeling, that voice at the back of your mind asking itself why now and how long would this last… how long till he leaves you and your heartbroken Pedro again.

It’s not till the Casita is back up together that you and Bruno meet face to face for more than 10 minutes. It’s dinner time and the family is sitting on the table when Pedrito, who’s already sitting in between Antonio and his dad pushes you to the sit next to Bruno’s so he “can be close to you too”. You try to avoid looking at your husband or talking to him as much as possible, but you find yourselves stealing glances at each other throughout the whole dinner, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife.

You don’t really pay much attention to what’s going around you, you can barely recall the conversation that was held between the family members, nor what Isabel and Mirabel were bickering over when the left to their rooms but as you pick a sleeping Pedro from his sit on the table and wish everyone a good night, before heading to tuck your baby into bed, you do notice Bruno quietly following you two steps behind.

You lay your sleepy child on his bed and kiss him goodnight as quickly as you can, in order to avoid being in the same room as his papa all by yourselves. But before you realise Bruno has already walked inside his kid’s room, approaching you with a gentle “Mi amor…”.

You don’t know what is it that makes you explode, maybe is the softness with which he approaches you, as if he’s scared of hurting you after all the pain he has caused you, maybe is the way in which the family behaved with everyone acting as if nothing had happened and no one having the guts to address the elephant in the room… Maybe is the fact that once you raised your head to face him you had a glance of the picture you took together the day Pedro was born, in which you are beings held by Bruno close to his heart while you cradle a sleeping Pedro wide smiles on both of your faces. But explode you do.

“¿Mi amor?” you inquire, voice harsh as you now look at your husband “Don’t you dare mi amor me, Bruno Madrigal!” You try not to raise your voice as hard as you can do you don’t wake up you sleeping child, but right now all you see is red and you feel like your heart wants to crawl out of your chest “You don’t get to disappear for ten years and come back around as if nothing had ever happened! You cannot just disappear from our lives when things get hard! You don’t get to hurt us like that and just turn up again like it was okay because it was not okay. It is NOT okay!”

You scream and yell as you walk closer to him, hands up on the air as you put him against the wall. You hate yourself for this, you hate the way his eyes fill up with tears and how you can hear him sob as you scream, you know better than anyone else that he doesn’t deserve this… especially it from you. But you are just so hurt, and it’s being so long. There have been too many sleepless nights crying for him to come back to you, way to many moments that he’s missed, way too many times that he wasn’t there to hold you that just seem like you need to let out for once in your life.

Once you finish screaming you feel yourself tremble and fall to the floor, when Bruno catches you and holds you close too himself. It almost feels wrong how you melt into his touch, it almos feels like the way you hold onto him for dear life invalidates the woman that had to go ten tour of her life without his touch, but you finally allow yourself to be held by him as you cry into his chest.

“Mi amor, I’m so sorry” he begins again, voice soft and trembling as you sob harder into his ruana “I know sorry doesn’t make up for all the pain I’ve caused you and our son but believe me when I tell you I’m genuinely so, so, sorry about everything”. You feel Bruno’s hand caress your cheek as he pulls your face closer to his, making you stare into his crying eyes. “Please, I know I’ll never be able to explain what I did. Jus know there were so many things in this world that could hurt you. I never wanted to be one of them. I’m sorry I failed at it, I’m sorry u failed at keeping you safe”.

It’s then when you finally kiss him, chapped lips and runny noses, tears falling from both your cheeks and mixing in with your kiss. When you pull apart you hug him as close as possible to yourself, burying your face on the warmth of his neck while he burys his on your hair. And, while you know that there’s still a long way to go till things are fine between you two, you let your beloved Bruno make you feel loved for the first time in years, you let yourself enjoy the way his arms around you keep you safe.

[hellskitchenswhore]

Matt Murdock x Reader x Frank Castle

Literally I don't think anything on this list is SFW, and if you're here then you probably know that

➸ Noises HCs by @itwasthereaminuteago

➸ The Punisher by @foli-vora

➸ stay quiet, baby by @saintmurd0ck

➸ day jobs by @mangotapoica

➸ Stumbling Along The Edge by @americancowgirl19 - #angst

➸ "Absolute filth" by @m0rn1ngst4rr

➸ winner's streak by @saintmurd0ck

➸ Strawberry Surprise by @itwasthereaminuteago

➸ inhale by @saintmurd0ck

➸ a trip upstate by @saintmurd0ck - just you, your boys, and a snow- covered cabin

➸ Please Hold by @itwasthereaminuteago - #smut, #dom!matt

➸ Thots by @mattmurdocksscars @allegra-writes & @stress--relief - #smut, soft!frank and dom!matt

➸ Emergency Security by @undiscovered-horizon - matt and frank save you and protect you

➸ double trouble by @saintmurd0ck - dom!matt & soft!frank

➸ The Proposition by @pedrito-friskito

➸ Frank coming home... by @deviousisms

➸ Friends?! by @mattmurdocksscars - You patch Matt up, until one night he brings a friend, #no romance (yet???)

➸ Poly with Dom!Frank and Matt by @twilightbarnes - The boys are both doms, but in a very different way

➸ Tease Me Before You Please Me by @amhrosina - You, Frank, and Matt go to Paris. That’s literally it.

➸ Ours by @wannabemurdock - matt will always have your back, #smut

➸ "I know for a fact you can be a hell of a lot louder than that." by @itwasthereaminuteago - #voyeurism, a little #murdock v castle

➸ Show Me How Much You Missed Me by @amhrosina - you're overwhelmed and use your safeword, but it scares the boys into not touching you for a week, #smut

➸ Favorite Kind of Trouble by @amhrosina - Frank and you get up to no good at a gala event, and Matt’s enhanced senses can’t help but focus on the pretty sounds you’re making from across the room

➸ Mutual Agreement by @chellestrash - Being friends with both Matt and Frank means that some nights they both end up at your place needing a patch up and a safe place to rest, #fluff

➸ baking with matty & frankie by @chvoswxtch - the boys insist on accompanying you to a baking class, #fluff

➸ jealousy by @chvoswxtch - matt gets jealous that you're home taking care of frank while he's at work

➸ be still and feel my beating heart by @saintmurd0ck - a quiet moment tracing your lovers' scars

[softiedingo]

omg- the soft smile and messy hair 🥺❤️✨️

[avenging-fandoms]

OKAY NAHHHH NOW U GOTTA WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THAT FRIENDS TO LOVERS BUT ITS TOO LATE TROPE

**i forgot who this was originally requested for so i’m gonna pick pedrito<3

Idk i kinda hate this

**fem pronouns

-

“I can’t believe you’re getting married.” Yn sighed with her arms crossed, admiring Pedro as he adjusts his tie with a bright smile. “I always thought we would have to use our pact.” Yn half jokes. Pedro turns aroud with knitted eyebrows.

“What pact?” He questions and Yn’s heart breaks a little.

“The pack we made when we were 16, if we didn’t getting married by 50 we’d marry each other.” She reminds him and he snaps, nodding.

“I totally forgot about that. Well we probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway.” Pedro chuckles and sits to re-tie his shoes, Yn fidgeting with her bridesmaid dress nervously.

“How would we know if we never tried?”

She tried to be quiet but saw Pedro stop tying his shoes in her peripheral as she looks at her hands.

“Dove..” Pedro sighs and she sits next to him, holding his arm and looking at him through tears while he rubbed his eyebrows with his eye closed.

“Pedro, I fell in love with you years ago, and when I went to tell you you told me about Heather, so I didn’t tell you. But now I’m telling you right before you marry her.” Yn realizes what she’s doing.

“Right before I marry her!” Pedro exclaims, standing up quickly and Yn jumps. “Why not telling me in the beginning when it’s easier to end and I loved you back?” Pedro yelled.

Yn inhaled sharply and stared Pedro down, tears falling. “You loved me?” Yn couldn’t raise her voice higher than a soft whisper, and Pedro laughed in her face.

“Yes, Yn, I did. Before I fell in love with my soon-to-be-wife.” Pedro sighed and groaned loudly as he ran his hands down his face, looking at Yn who stood slowly, unable to make eye contact.

“Good luck with your marriage, Pedro. I wish you nothing but the best.” Yn nods and opens the door. Pedro’s eyes soften and widen, quickly heading to the door and trying to get her to stay. Yn didn’t respond to anything he said and quietly took herself away from his grip and racing to her car.

As she quickly drove away Yn couldn’t helped but sob. She couldn’t blame Pedro for how he felt but she was still upset, her heart was tightening with every breath and it was getting harder to breathe.

Yn couldn’t have stayed - she was a bridesmaid. To stand next to the woman the man you love is marrying sounds like an absolute nightmare, so she finds a few hours away where no one could find her. With the alcohol for the after party and her night bag, Yn bought a room for the weekend.

She turns off her phone and turns on the TV to find something random and cracking open the bottle of Tito’s.

Every sip she thought of Pedro and Heather. How they were exchanging vows, their first kiss. Once Yn turned her back on she was going to delete every app of social media she had so she sees nothing from the wedding.

Yn locks the door all the ways she can and grabs her laptop, her vodka and her pajamas as she heads to the bathroom. Yn closes the door and starts the bath, getting it hot before taking off her makeup and dress.

She angrily threw the dress in the trash with a sob, taking a drink of her vodka and submerging herself in the hot water, putting music on her computer. Her hand draped over the edge of the bathtub with the vodka bottle loose in her grip, eyes closed and lip syncing to the music before it stops.

She was getting a FaceTime call. From Pedro.

Yn took a big sip and answers, groaning as it burns going down.

“Dove, what the hell?!” Pedro was in a quiet room and Yn took a breath.

“What’s up, how’s the wedding?” Yn slurred terribly. She didn’t realize how drunk she was and Pedro was worried as Yn barely drinks.

“Yn, where are you?” Pedro asking angrily to which Yn shrugged.

“A guy’s house, Jackson. I called him sad and now I’m naked in his tub.” Yn giggles as she lies but Pedro just thinks she’s drunk giggling.

“He didn’t try anything did he?” Pedro’s tone of voice was low and his eyes were dark, and it sobered Yn up a bit.

“What do you care, married boy? You don’t love me anymore. Bye.” Yn hung up and put her laptop on Do Not Disturb so no more calls came through and she could enjoy her back.

She set her alcohol down, dunking herself under the water for a few minutes before coming back up, gasping as she wipes her face and runs her hands over her hair. Yn brings her knees to her chest, resting her cheek on her knee bone, staring at the drain as she thought.

She thought of Pedro, of Heather, of Jackson, of everything she could think of. Eventually the water got cold and Yn sobered up a bit. Yn stood up slowly and wobbled a bit while wrapping the towel around herself. She brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas before climbing into bed.

Yn finally turns on her phone and sees a few texts from Pedro, friends, and a bunch from Jackson talking about how Pedro showed up looking for her and threatened him. Yn sighed and texted him back, telling him she was very sorry and she’ll take him to dinner to explain; he agreed.

Yn took a few deep breaths before calling Pedro who answers in 3 rings.

“Where the hell are you?!” He scolds.

“You showed up to Jackson’s house? Pedro, I’m sorry if what I said messed with you, but you got married. Stop worrying who or where I am. Worry about you wife.”

“You did mess with me!” Pedro’s throat burns as he tries not to shout too loud for others to hear, his eyes glossy as he swallows. “Why did you do that?” Pedro asks as his lip softly trembles and Yn sighs, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she looks at the ceiling while tears well.

“I.. I don’t know, Pedro. It was selfish. I’m sorry. You’re a good man, a married man now. Please.. worry about your wife.” Yn’s voice broke.

“It should’ve been you, huh?” Pedro asks, sniffling.

“It’s too late to try.” Yn answers.

[danniburgh]

so for the requests could you do “how about you make me?” with our love javier peña?? thank you!!

no requests baby those are closed this is a prompt game BUT LETS GOOOOOOO

“Is this your dad?” you asked him as you walked around his apartment, lifting picture after picture he had on frames all over the place; he had one with an older man, both wearing jackets, both wearing glasses, behind them a paddock and a brown horse.

“Yeah.” he said with a smirk as you traced him over the glass of the frame and left the photo in its place; as you were placing it you saw a plaque hidden deep inside the bookshelf.

“What’s this?” you reached to it and felt Javier walk behind it.

“Uhm, nothing.” he muttered, you looked down at it, it was a plaque from the DEA academy; he had graduated with honors.

“Why do you have this shoved back?” you turned to see him, he shrugged.

“Put it back, please.” he said in a low voice. You shook your head. “put it back.”

“How about you make me?” you whispered, putting the plaque behind your back and smirking at him, Javier scoffed and stepped towards you.

“Put it back.” he whispered inches away from your face, his hands on your shoulders and sliding down dangerously slow, you shivered at his touch and shook your head again. Javier wrapped his arms around you and his hands found the plaque, he slid it easily out of your hands as his lips brushed yours, making you smile.

“Now what?” you sighed out, licking your lips and touching his with the tip of your tongue, you heard him putting the plaque on the shelf as he left a soft kiss on your lips.

“Try to take something else and find out.”

tags↓

pedrito's perma list: @northernpunk @pascalesque @sleep-tight1 @cheekygeek05 @bii-aan-ckaa @letaliabane @supernaturalgirl @metalarmsandmanbuns @asta-lily @alliterative-albatross @greeneyedblondie44 @missswriter @juletheghoul @pedro-pastel @agirllovespancakes @charlispersonallyhell @hopeevenonthisside @sherala007 @magpie-to-the-morning @beskarboobs

dick aneurysm: @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorianalso @purplepascal042 @maharani-radha @pascalslittlebrat @mothandpidgeon @wyn-dixie @empress-palpat1ne @charnelhouse

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd

[munsonownsmyass]

Sick day

Matt x reader

Summary: Matt takes care of you when you're sick.

Authors note: This is just a little blurb for @phoebe-danvers 💜

You could tell this was gonna be another day in bed as soon as you woke up. Head pounding, muscles aching, and throat still sore. Barely able to get out of bed, you get some water and pain meds before laying back down under the covers. You fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow, not even thinking about setting an alarm.

You’re jerked awake by a cool hand touching your forehead, lightly caressing your hair. Looking up, you see Matt sitting beside you, his eyes soft but full of worry.

“It’s just me, sweetheart.” he says softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine” you argue, as you brush his hand away softly, turning with a groan. “I just fell asleep.”

“When I didn’t find you at the store, I got worried.” He tells you with a raised brow, caressing your arm softly.

“I told you I’m fine.” You huff out, trying to sound convincing, but clearly failing when you see how Matt is smiling. “Just give me a second, and I’ll get ready for our date.”

You try to get up, but he stops you by gently pushing you back down towards the bed. “Not a chance, sweetheart. You’re sick, you need to stay in bed.”

Disappointed, you look at Matt, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. Pouting like a scorn child. “But… I haven’t seen you all week. I was looking forward to our date.”

Matt just smiles, scootching a little closer. “So was I, but we’ll do it once you get better. Until then…” Matt turns away for a moment to grab a bag from the floor, which he proudly holds up to you. “I brought chicken soup. Your favorite. Orange juice and… ” he pauses for a moment before pulling one last thing out of the bag.

“Skittles!” You grab the bag excitedly before looking at Matt. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have a guy like him. so sweet and caring. You pull on his tie, bringing him closer for a kiss before he stops you.

“Maybe another time, sweetheart.” He says softly before giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek instead. “Now, let’s get you into the living room so you can watch a movie while eating your soup.”

“The truth about Cats and Dogs?” You almost jump out of the bed with excitement, causing Matt to chuckle.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

TFC girls: @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @saintmurd0ck @pedrito-friskito @mattmurdocksscars @lunaserenade

Tagging: @lucy-sky

[max--phillips]

YES THAT ONE. The first time I saw it, I immediately sent it to you fabshjsjs

He's just ..he's just so CUTE?!?!

AND FOR W H A T !?!?!?!,

(I mean ofc ofc, it's our boi Pedrito but still)

I'm just so....

KGJDNFKDNDJSJSNFKDKS

YEAH and u killed me w it bc I wasn’t expecting it jgjchdbdkfjdbsjsjs

But YEAH LMAO he just looks so soft and I’m like . I wanna grab those suspenders and pull him in for a kiss

[angsarapblog]

Wow 15 years is quite a long time before Pedritos was just located in Dagupan-Binmaley Road as a simple restaurant and bakeshop but now they have a Premium premise right in the town centre at AB Fernandez Ave, I am not sure how old this is but it was all new to me, even the Metro Plaza was not there 15 years ago. Certainly, a lot has developed, the prices even went up, exponentially, I was surprised most of the mid-scale to upscale places in the Philippines have prices comparable now to New Zealand.

We came here after having a dinner in a nearby establishment, we were planning to have our dessert here but the halo halo we just had was so filling. I know they have a lot of tempting cakes on display like the dulce de leche, mango sans rival and even the normal sans rival but there are no more space for those, maybe next time.

We did end up buying other items that did not require refrigeration so we can consume it the next day as the hotel we stayed in does not have the mini bar fridge, so we asked what is their most bought item and we were offered Sweet Dough with Mah Hu (Php 50.00) and Ensaymada (Php 55.00), we grabbed a couple of those then went back to our hotel. Price compared to normal panaderia is quite high as you can get them at around Php 10.00, but if you compare to popular spots then it was still cheap but how does it fare.

Sweet Dough with Mah Hu was great, the blend sweet and savoury taste was amazing, buns was soft and not dry, it was filling as well. For the ensaymada, it was above average, buttery soft and cheesy, there are better ones but it was good enough to be on the above average scale. This in any way does not represent everything sold at this place, I had tried several food items here before but that was on their first shop 15 years ago. It is a popular place during the days and most probably now, I just wish we had enough time during this short visit in the Philippines so I could have tried the usual stuff we ordered before, but yes watch this space we will be back.

Los Pedritos Premium Address: 29 AB Fernandez Ave, Downtown District, Dagupan, 2400 Pangasinan, Philippines

Los Pedritos Premium (Dagupan City, Philippines) Wow 15 years is quite a long time before Pedritos was just located in Dagupan-Binmaley Road as a simple restaurant and bakeshop but now they have a Premium premise right in the town centre at AB Fernandez Ave, I am not sure how old this is but it was all new to me, even the Metro Plaza was not there 15 years ago.