#this is all tongue in cheek and a joke so please don't come after me for anything fjkasdlfjdskafd

[gabriel-landeskog]

silly little oilers - kings playoff series bingo card!! we tried to be somewhat neutral but also like. i am an oilers fan here. 

+ bonus picture of connor to download and use as a marker if you so wish <3

[spidybaby]

Forgive you, for what?

Summary: After the release of your new song, people start to make rumors about your relationship, making Gavi feel uncomfortable. (Singer!Reader)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexy time, implications of cheating.

Face Claim: Emilia Mernes

"Pablo, don't do that." You say, laughing at him hitting your hand away. Making you almost trop the PS5 controller.

You two were playing fifa. He taught you how to play it, and now he loves that you got to be able to beat him on the game.

"I swear to God, princesa." He laughs when you imitate him hitting your hands. "If you win I'm unfollowing you on insta."

Just as he says that, you score the winner goal of the game. You jump happy, laughing at how he sucks and you are the one and only winner.

He grabs you by the waist, pulling you down to lay on top of him. You laugh at him. Arms behind his neck and lips on his face.

You were careful with him, especially after his injury.

"I beat you." You laugh. Kissing his lips.

He loves these moments with you. Just you and him enjoying the company of each other and not thinking about work and all the responsibilities.

You love how his demeanor changed since the injury. You felt your heart being ripped off when you saw him get injured on the field.

With your help and this family, it was a hard way but he made it. You were so proud of him. He loved his progress as much as you loved to see him renewed and fresh.

"Let's cook something, you need to take your vitamins with food." You kiss his nose, making him scrunch it. "C'mon, mi amorcito."

He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheeks. He loves how shy and red you get when he focus his attention on your cheeks.

"I want a picture with you to remember how happy we are. Put on your shades." You reach over your phone and to where his shades were. Putting them on his face. "Di quesoooo." You smile at the camera.

"Quesoooo" He repeats. Laughing after a few pictures. You kiss his face while taking a few more. "Are you posting me on social media?" He asks, pretending to be serious.

"Why you care?" You follow his game. "You are going to unfollow me." You stick your tongue out for him.

"Maybe an appreciation post will make me follow you again." He jokes. Getting up from the couch and pulling you lightly. "Let's make Mac and cheese." He begs.

You nod, asking him to take the things you'll use. You grab your phone and choose a picture to post on your insta story.

Yourusername has added to close friends

You tagged him, even when the boy only goes on insta to repost something from the barca profile. And even when he can't repost it.

"Princesa, everything's ready." He calls you from the kitchen. "Ven, mi amor."

You smile, loving how he always picks the right way to call you and melt you from love at the same time.

🌸🌸🌸

"Perdonarte, para qué?

Para que vuelvas a fallarme otra vez?

No muchas gracias, ese chiste ya no me hace gracia."

You sing the lyrics to your new song that you have been working on with the Mexican group Los Angeles Azules.

You loved them since you were a child, and for you to be singing and filming a music video with them is a dream come true.

"You look amazing." The lead singer of the group tells you. "We heard your album when it got out and now on our way here to be able to get your energy."

"That's so sweet." You smile, hugging him. "My mom is going crazy about me being here with you. She's a big fan. We are."

You talk with all of them a little bit. Joking while filming. It was all so fun for you and to them too.

"Okay, take three. Y/n, from the beginning."

"Get over me, forget me

And think that it was just a dream what you lived with me

Get it together

There won't be any more pages of the best story you've read

With that, I say goodbye

Please, better not call me

I don't even want you as a friend

Forgive you, for what?

For you to fail me again?

No, thank you very much

That joke is not funny anymore." You sing the song while the music is playing over it.

Yourusername

Liked by pablogavi, angelesazulesmx and 2,573,837 others

Yourusername can't wait for this to be out. See you tomorrow ❤️💋

View all 98,472 comments

angelesazulesmx 🤩🤩🤩

pablogavi ❤️

"Can you please tell me what this secret project is about?" Pablo begs. "Mi amor, I'm nosy." He pouts.

"I know, precioso." You laugh. "But I want you to see it the day it comes out and tell me your real reaction to it."

"I can do that right now." He pouts again.

"No, papi." You shake your head no. "That's not going to happen."

He understood your motives, you always show him your projects before hearing them, except the ones you want him to feel in real time.

"Hey, why did you unfollow me on insta?" You jokingly yell at him. "Amor, why?" You laugh.

"I told you I would." He laughs. "I did, I go by my word."

You talk with him for a little while. Packing your things to go back to Spain to practice for your tour leg in Europe.

"Did you tell her, Pablo?" You hear Aurora in the back of the call.

"Si." He shouts. "Amor, Aurora wants you to have lunch with her as soon as you land in Barcelona. Because she's leaving to Sevilla."

"Yes, tell Aurorita that I want that."

"I'll text you." Aurora yells again.

You laugh at her. You love his family, and you are very thankful that they love you back. It was a big piece in your relationship. The approval and love of your families.

"I have to go, I need to finish packing." You say as your phone pulls the notification of low battery. "Te amo, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, don't come here, I'll come to you." He mentions quickly. "When are you landing?"

"I think at like 2 p.m." You say with doubt. "I'll text you when Aurora and I are done."

"Vale, te amo."

"Te amo más, see you soon, papi."

"See you soon, mami." He blows a kiss to you.

🌸🌸🌸

The song is out, and the Spanish press is making a huge deal out of it.

holacom

Liked by 24,574

holacom International singer Y/n released her new song in collaboration with Los Angeles Azules, a Mexican cumbian group, the song "Forgive you, for what?" became number one in multiple countries.

Fans are wondering if this new title has to do with Gavi, number six on the Barça first team, unfollowing her and about previous cheating rumors from the footballer.

(📸 @yourusername and @pablogavi)

Pablo hates when the media makes up rumors about you, and he definitely hates when they make rumors about your relationship.

When he heard the song, he never thought it was about you two or any situation that you two went through.

He was loyal to you. He can't be with anyone else when he has everything he ever wanted with you.

"Please, mi amor. Answer your phone." He tries one more time to FaceTime you. When the call goes to nothing. He feels frustrated. "Rora, please try one more time." He begs.

Aurora does. She tried to text you all morning, but the last text she got from you was before your plane took over. That was more than 15 hours ago.

"Nothing." She sighs, seeing his brother lose his mind over the tabloids. "Pablo, there has to be a reason. She won't just not answer you."

She feels cursed. Just when Pablo was relaxing, a notification popped up on his phone. You posted an instagram post.

yourusername

Liked by angelesazulesmx, mariabecerra and 5,485,486 others

Yourusername Gracias! I want to thank all of you for your amazing support and love to Perdonarte, para qué? (Forgive you, for what?)

Thank you so much to Los Angeles Azules and to everybody who worked hard to be able to make this possible. Forever in my heart ❤️

View all 290,721 comments

pablogavisgirl pls don't tell me this is about Gavi😭😭😭

y/nfan1 love the song but pls tell us this isn't a confirmation of the rumors of Gavi cheating on you

gavihater1 happy you finally realized he was not worthy and that you are too much for him anyway

His face drop, why weren't you answering him but you were posting?

He wants to yell, he wants to throw his phone to the wall and pretend this shitshow isn't happening.

"I need to be alone for a moment." He excuses himself to his sister.

But in the United States airport, you were locked in a room with no phone and no way of communicating to anyone.

"How much until she can leave?" You manager asks the immigration guy. "This is ridiculous. She's a singer, and her visa is only a day into the six months rule."

"Ma'am I don't make the rules. But this is my job, and I can't just let her break the law just cause she is a singer."

"I know, I'm not asking you to break anything. I'm just telling you that it's been seven hours since we landed here. We already told you and showed you proof that this is just a connection flight."

You were mad. You were supposed to be in the United States for only an hour and you already spent seven hours while the immigration officer confirmed the story that you were a singer and your trip to Barcelona was with working purposes.

All because your visa was one day into the six months limit where you can't fly. That was an honest mistake from your manager, you can't blame her.

"Can I at least have some food?" You ask the police who was with you in the room. "Please."

He ignores you. You were mad, you were just passing by, not like you were colonizing their land.

"Okay, you are free to go." The same immigration dude came to open the door for you. "Good luck at your concert."

You didn't even flash a smile. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but you weren't. "Good night." You say.

You hug your manager. Telling her how tired you were and how you needed food and a long sleep.

"You'll have seven hours to do that." She walks with you. "I got us a private jet, no more stupid commercial flights."

"And good thing is that your song is number one on the charts." Your assistant tells you. "And I posted a thank you to Los Angeles Azules and to your fans."

You don't even have the energy to care about a post or anything. "My phone is dead." You mention. "I was on like 10% before they took me in"

You walk to a coffee shop, getting something to drink while your assistant got you something to eat.

"Here." She hands you the food. "And your phone is charging. Here." She left the phone with the power bank attached.

You calmly eat while watching a movie. When you have more energy to finally do more than just be a potato, you pick your phone.

Your eyes widen at the sight of all the missing calls from Pablo, Aurora and your friends. "I have to call Pablo." You say.

"No." Your manager snatchs your phone off your hands. "You need sleep, Pablo is probably worry and that's okay, but sleep."

She didn't want you to find out about the drama the tabloids are doing. She wants you to get to Barcelona with at least a little energy and then deal with it.

y/n.hq

Liked by aurorapaezg, antonellaroccuzzo and other 1,472,380 others

y/n.hq three randoms. One you'll understand later, one listening to Perdonarte, para qué? and one before our plane took out to Barcelona, where the new leg of the tour began.

View all 34,572 comments

gavihater2 love how you are ignoring everything about that excuse of a player

y/nfan2 amore, please tell us you and Gavi aren't done 😭😭😭

_ferminlopez can I get free tickets?

bcnboyslover FERMIN NOT YOU HERE 😭

gavilover34 baby you can afford them

gaviandy/nlover is this the way they tell us everything is fine and they're still together? Fermin?

"C'mon Pablo, please pick up." You try one more time. "Papi, I need you. Answer" You whisper, nervous about the whole drama that the media pulled.

When you landed in Barcelona, it was 11 pm. So you needed your bed and a pill to be able to sleep all night.

The repercussions came when you woke up to your friends blowing your phone with questions about Gavi, Aurora asking you if you were okay and to call her and the worst.

Pablo texting you that he was hurt that you weren't answering, you were just letting the fire get to him about something you denied him access. And asking you if that was your plan for the beginning.

You called Aurora, who was in Sevilla at that point. You explained to her what happened, and she understood your tired state. Not blaming you for what you did as soon as you landed.

She texted Pablo, asking him to let you explain yourself, how you wouldn't do what he thinks you did.

But you weren't going to wait until his mad state is over. You needed to talk to him face to face, and even if he didn't want it to, you do.

You open the door of his house with your spare key. "Pablo!" You yell for him to hear that it was you. "Pablo Martín!" You yell again.

You walk to his kitchen, nothing. The living room, nothing. His room, nothing again.

You were nervous, he wasn't there. You pase around thinking where he was. Was he with Fermin? Was he with Pedri? At one of la masia boys? Where?

You were so into your mind that you don't hear the front door being open or the steps coming to the bedroom.

But you do scream when the door is fully open in a quick motion. Making Pablo jump scared. "Por la puta, qué mierda?" He asks, hand on his heart.

"Pablo!" You say happy, hugging him and kissing his face. His hands are on your sides, not really hugging you, more like keeping you steady. "Mi amor, I'm sorry about not being able to answer. I was trapped and I wasn't able to take my flight."

"Y por qué si pudiste subir fotos?" He asks, pushing you away from him. "Hmm?" (And why did you have time to post?)

"I didn't, papi, that was my assistant." You try to explain. "Papi, I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Well, you did." He walks into the bathroom, ignoring you while taking his clothes off. Ready to take a shower.

"Pablo, please!"

He got into the shower, not caring that you were there. Nothing you haven't seen before, so you walked into the bathroom.

You open the glass door. Water slashing all over your shoes and legs. "Pablo, I'm not going anywhere."

"Entonces quédate ahí." (Then stay there) he continued with hos shower routine without a care in the world.

You close the door. Removing your shoes and clothes, except for your underwear. You weren't giving up just like that.

"Mira, Pablo." You grab his shoulders, hands removing the foam from his forehead to he could see you. "I was forced to stay at a freaking two meters office with a very mean police dude in New York." You explain.

He pays attention, even though he doesn't want to, he respects you enough to hear you.

"I was tired, I was jet lagged, I was hungry and thirsty, but I couldn't even move without the dude reaching for his taser."

You feel your eyes watering. You were stressed. The song was supposed to be something good. You with your favorite cumbia group, doing a Spanish language song after two English albums. Not this mess.

"I was tired." You cry. "And I wanted my boyfriend to understand. But he is too busy playing the hurt one when he knows I would never be the type to leave him with a song. Especially after talking to him on the phone and saying I love you."

You back away from him. Letting him see you discomfort. He felt bad, all that anger, and the words he sent you over text weren't even reasonable. You were right.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I should have asked my assistant to text you something to let you know I was okay. I'm I haven't been able to clean your name from the drama. I just want us to be okay. Is that possible?"

He nods, and you hug him carefully. Not wanting to take a bad step and slip I to the shower.

"Te amo, please don't ever think I don't." You say. "And if I don't contact you after a flight, please know it's because I was: a, put into custody of the immigration department. b, probably death asleep. And c, maybe in the air with no phone battery."

You make him laugh, the sound of it being the only thing you needed.

"Te amo, princesa." He kisses your forehead. "I was an insecure person, and I'm sorry about it. I'm sorry about that text. Maybe all the shit did got to my head."

"Then let's wash it off." You interrupt him, joking about his hair having shampoo and foam. "It's okay, I get insecure too. And just like you do, I'll be here to make you not feel like it." You kiss him. You quickly pull away. "Maybe let's take this shampoo off of you, it taste terrible."

He laughs, pulling you a little to the water falling. "What if you let me help you shower that tension away?" He asks, kissing your neck.

"Your injury." You remind him.

"Don't worry, I have my hands to do the work for me." He smirks, hands traveling to the elastic of your panties. "I love you."

"Really?" You ask, breathlessly. You kiss him. Your hands reach for the lock on your bra, undoing it. "Show me." You say, taking the remaining clothes off.

yourusername

Liked by aurorapaezg, pablogavi, _ferminlopez and 6,483,382 others

yourusername a little appreciation post for this amazing boy, who also happens to be my boyfriend and one of my biggest supporters.

I love you to the moon and back. Thank you for everything, Pablo ❤️ You are the 6 on the pitch, but the 1 in my heart 🌸✨️❤️

View all 568,448 comments

aurorapaezg los amo mucho ❤️

yourusername te amamos ❤️✨️

pablogavi I love you, my one 🌸✨️❤️

gavifan1 AHHH HE'S USING HER EMOJIS😭❤️

gadrilover he calls her my one 🥺🥺🥺

_ferminlopez romantic much?

_ferminlopez so about those free tickets 😗

yourusername no ❤️

pablogavi 🤣🤣🤣

_ferminlopez @yourusername wow 👌🏻

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART I

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

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3

masterlist with next parts!

You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.

You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.

So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.

You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.

Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.

Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.

So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.

"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.

Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.

"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.

He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.

"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."

Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.

"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."

You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."

The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.

You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.

You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.

Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.

There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.

However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.

As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.

Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.

It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.

"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."

He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."

"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.

That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.

You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.

"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"

"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."

He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.

This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.

"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.

"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"

"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."

Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.

You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.

Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.

Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.

"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.

He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."

Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.

Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.

You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.

"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.

He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.

"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.

"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I know, I know. It's stupid."

"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."

You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."

"I've got nowhere else to be."

The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.

"You two should date."

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"

"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."

Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."

"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"

"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me."  Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.

This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.

Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.

You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"

It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.

You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.

As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.

"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."

"How'd you know that?"

"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."  

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."

The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.

"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.

Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.

Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."

You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.

As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.

After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.

"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.

"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."

You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.

"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.

"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.

"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.

"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.

To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."

If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"

Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.

You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.

"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."

"I think you're correct."

His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"  

And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.

Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.

"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.

It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.

"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.

He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.

"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"

"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."

He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.

"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

reblog or like if you enjoyed it!

[mariasont]

THE BIMBO RECEPTIONIST WAS SO CUTE

now id like to introduce, goth/metalhead!bimbo!reader x spence ( more of the opposites attract vibe )

super dark clothes and jewelry and looks like elvira a little bit, maybe a few piercings and tattoos for spencer to oogle at

Brooding - S.R

a/n: EEK i hope u love this as much as i loved writing it :)

bimbo reader has my heart <3

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x goth!bimbo!reader

warnings: mmm none! fluff! just two cuties being cute!

wc: 0.6k

Your pen was a flurry of motion, streaking bold lines upon the sketchpad. Technically, you should be sorting through the endless stack of files, keeping them pristine and accessible for the agents. You were always ahead of your tasks, and this job, while not earth-shattering, mattered to you. But when you had a muse as captivating as yours, it was hard to put the pen down. 

That muse being the man rifling through the files before you, his face a masterpiece of pretty lines and angles, unaware of the intensity of your focus. You contemplated expressing your admiration aloud, but the idea seemed a little too forward. So, you poured that impulse into a portrait, tracing the contours of his handsome face.

But it proved difficult to accomplish with his relentless pacing. Each step he took sparked another round of redos on the pad. Your tongue, tipped with a silver piercing, unconsciously found its way to your lip as you wrestled with the proportions of his nose, erasing furiously to get it just right.

You let out a sigh, louder than intended, and it was enough to pause his steps. "Sir, can you please stand still?"

He looked utterly baffled, lifting his brows toward his hairline. As your eyes met, he pointed to his chest, his question simple and unsure, "Huh? Me?"

A quick nod sent a ribbon of dyed hair fluttering before your eyes as you beamed at him. "Yes, you! Please, if you don't mind," you murmured, your fingers racing over the paper. "I just need, like, one more second."

He stood frozen, brows remaining quizzically raised. Why he complied, he couldn't say, but the sight of you, so engrossed in your art, your necklaces chiming in time with your movements, and how your bold makeup seemed to frame your face perfectly kept him rooted to the spot.

You peered up through your lashes, giving him a sheepish grin, cheeks lightly flushed as you set the pen down.

"All done! You're free to go. Thanks for being so patient," you chirped, gently waving the paper in the air as if to dry the ink faster.

"Can I at least see the result of my patience?" Spencer asked, his approach casual yet expectant. 

You hugged the sketchpad to your chest, a gentle laugh escaping you. "Well, I don't usually just let anyone see my work, especially strangers."

Spencer's smile was tinged with amusement.

"Considering I'm the subject, I think I have some claim to it," he joked. "And by the way, I'm Spencer Reid. There, we're practically acquaintances now."

You couldn't contain the goofy grin that spread across your face, and a giggle bubbled up from your throat.

"Well, since you put it that way, I suppose I can make an exception," you said, drawing out the last word with a wink.

The portrait made Spencer do a double-take--it was him, but as if seen through a gothic, moody lens. His usual composure cracked, and a deep, genuine laugh broke through. 

"I never knew I had such a brooding side," he commented with a smile. "I look like I stepped out of a Brontë novel. Perhaps Heathcliff on one of his better days?"

Your head cocked to the side, hair cascading over one shoulder, looking at him through lashes heavy with mascara as you shrugged.

"Heathcliff, huh? I'll take your word for it, but I get the brooding part," you said, with a bubbly laugh. "Come on, it's so you."

Spencer fiddled with his tie, raising a brow.

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or concerned," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he felt a pleasant heat rise to his cheeks.

You squinted sightly, pretending to mull it over.

"Flattered, for sure," you said. "Broody types are just secretly plotting world domination, right?"

He grinned. "Well, maybe not world domination, but certainly plotting something."

Your voice was light, but your question was pointed. "So, what are you plotting, Spencer? Should I be worried?"

He tried to remember what Morgan had taught him.

"Absolutely. But some things are worth the wait--patience, you'll see, can be quite rewarding."

And with a promise like that, you found yourself more than willing to wait. 

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[luvyeni]

hello can i request a smut? its been in my mind lately having sex with park jisung in the classroom both are students and its end of class. thank you!

❛AFTER CLASS❜ ( p. jisung )

p. classclown!jisung x studentpres!reader w. 1k

warnings? fwb , public sex , unprotected sex, cumming inside , dirty talk

— 𖦹 ( jisung catching you after class ) !

"class president , hand these out." the teacher slammed the stack of papers on your desk. "of course." you got up , picking up the stack of papers , handing them to each student , making your way to the back where you most dreaded.

"hello class president." jisung sat with his hood on his head , staring up at you along with his friends who basically did nothing all day. "should i even give you a paper , we both know you aren't gonna do it." you said , he smirked.

"is there a problem back there?" the teacher spoke up , the class turning to see. "no teacher , there isn't." you smiled , putting a paper on his desk — about to walk away , when he grabbed your wrist. "thank you pretty girl." you snatched your arm away flustered , handing the rest of the papers to his friends who made kissy faces and hooting noises , scurrying off back to your seat.

class soon ended , you collected the papers , handing them back to the teacher. "oh (name) , will you be able to stay behind and clean the classroom." you nodded. "of course." she thanked you , and you began straight up as everyone packed up their stuff for the day , exiting the class.

"(name) , i trust you to lock up the class when you're done , i have to go." the teacher left the class , leaving you alone , stacking up the chairs.

you hadn't noticed him behind you , his eyes raking down your body. "hello class president." your turned , facing the boy. "classes are over jisung." he pushed off his body off the chalkboard , making his way over to you. "you look nice in that skirt." he backed you up against the desk. "thought about you the entire class."

his forehead was pressed against yours. "though about fucking you in this tiny fucking skirt all class , couldn't get anything done." you chuckled. "you never do work anyway." he pushed his tongue against cheek , his arm around your waist , pulling your body flush against his.

"really funny princess." he picked you up , sitting you on desks , wrapping your legs around his waist. "is it gonna be funny when i don't let you cum." that shut you right up. "that's right , me and you both know you can't go without cumming on my cock , even though you pretend to hate me." he grinded his hips against your cunt , you moaned out.

he was right , you and jisung always disagreed in class , you were all about your work , and he'd rather crack jokes with his friends in the back — you were constantly going at it , but that didn't stop him from pulling you into a random closet , and fucking your brains out during lunch , or fingering you in the back of the library during study period.

"just fuck me before the security guards comes looking." he tsk at your attitude. "so bossy princess." he reached up your skirt pulling your panties down. "so uptight." he undid his pants , pulling them down just below his cock. he stroked his cock , lining it with your entrance , teasing you with the tip. "fucking hell jisung jus- oh fuck!" your mouth hung open as he seethed into your cunt.

he smirked , "finally shut that pretty mouth up." he began to move his hips , fucking deep into your cunt. "guess the only way to shut you up is with my cock." you moaned , you wanted to slap him. "h-hate you."

"you hate me?" he went deeper , hitting a new spot. "well your pussy is saying otherwise." you clenched around him. "she seems to love me , the way she keeps tightening around me." he rubbed your clit. "oh fuck jisung please."

"now we're begging -fuck- baby." he cursed. "just admit it baby , you're addicted to my cock , that's why you keep coming back." he growled , the desk was shaking , but both of you didn't care , his hand came up to your throat , squeezing.

"you claim time and time , acting like you're so better than me , but you constantly crave my cock." he grabbed your shirt , ripping it open , buttons hitting the floor. "look at those tits." he squeezed them , you moaned. "you still have the marks from last time."

"ji-sung , fuck ' m'gonna cum." your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "look at you." he darkly chuckled. "all fucked out and drooling , gonna cream my cock?" you nodded. "should i let you , you've been such a brat though."

"please , please m'sorry , i need to cum." you sobbed. "go a head , cum for me , make a mess." he flicked your clit , and it triggered your orgasm , clenching tightly as you came. "sh-shit , im gonna cum." he thrusted a few times , stiling his hips , his cum flooding your insides. "fuck."

he pulled out , his cum seeping out of your cunt. "made such a fucking mess." he scooped it up , pushing it back inside. "keep inside."

i want you to remember this when you're trying to fuck yourself on your tiny fingers later."

©️LUVYENI

[luveline]

hi jade i’m going through a breakup right now and my ex was really toxic so i was wondering if you could write something with Steve, where reader is dating him after and thinks that everytime he does something nice for her she has to repay him with sex. like even after a date or when he buys her something. that’s literally how my ex made me feel

if not it’s totally cool and thank you💕

hi my love, I'm really sorry that that was happening to you, it isn't okay! you're much more than your intimacy with someone and you deserve to be given good things without expectations. I hope this is what you wanted to read <3

tw past implied coerced sex /sexual assault

“Up you go.” 

You shriek, clawing at the hands on your hips as Steve lifts you up a step. “Don't!” you laugh, failing to get out of his grips. 

“M'just helping you, babe, alright? Don't be so ungrateful.” 

He's joking, but the air feels like it's been knocked our of you. Steve continues to heave you up the steps to the house, sandwiching you between his front and the door as he unlocks it. 

“Come on, beautiful,” he says, practically dragging you inside, “what happened? Your legs stopped working.” 

It goes without saying that Steve is really nice. Eddie told you he's always like this when he's in love, but you're reluctant to call it love just yet. Dating is difficult for you sometimes —you overthink when you should be kissing, and flinch sometimes when he's kind. But you're having a really, really nice time with Steve and you want to keep trying to be with him. 

He knows you've gone somewhere else, his hand coming up around your chest to rest on yout sternum. “Hey, you okay?” 

“I'm fine.” 

“Yeah?” He walks you to the living room. “It was a good day, right?” he asks into your cheek, propping a soft kiss there. “God, you make me so happy.” 

Your face and neck flush with heat. Steve gives you a squeeze of a hug and encourages you to sit on the couch, where he immediately kneels at your feet. What he's saying is lovely, but when he starts to untie your shoe laces, you realise it had been a prompt. To be grateful, to show him it was a good day. He slides your shoes off with a grin, and your hands go to your button. You unzip your jeans, and Steve's smile stutters. 

“Do you want to?” you ask, paused. 

“Want to what?” 

“Take them off for me?” 

“Are they hurting you?” 

You realise different things at the same time. Steve your intentions, and you his lack thereof. “Shit, I'm sorry,” you say, as he says, “Oh, oh, um?” 

“I thought you wanted–” 

“You're perfect, and I want to if you want to, but I wasn't trying to come on to you,” he says, holding your ankle. “I'm sorry, I'm embarrassing you. Don't be embarrassed, please, I'm such an idiot–” He puts his face against your knees.

You pull your shirt down over pants to hide their open state. “You… we had such a nice day. Don't you want…” You cross your arms over your stomach. “I wanted to. I mean, you should get something back.” 

“I should get what back? Why would you think that?” he asks. Steve gets quiet when things are serious. He has a mixture of shock and hurt in his eyes looking up at you, but his hands stay gentle as they climb your legs.

You can't admit it. The weight of it stays on your tongue. 

Steve thinks about it, and maybe he sees it in your face, but eventually he says, “With him?” 

You look away. 

Steve climbs onto the couch beside you with a quiet huff. “When I said we had a good day, that's all I meant. That's…” He takes one of your hands, pulling it toward him, his gaze insistent on your face until you meet his eyes. “I really, really like you. Like–” He puts your hand on his chest and holds it there. “You don't have to do anything for it.” His lips pout gently. “Am I saying the wrong thing?” 

“No.” 

He leans in to kiss your cheek. “Good,” he says, and kisses it again. 

You smile, tilting your head to your shoulder, tickled at his breath as it fans out by your ear. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, “are you okay?” 

You nod, worried about how you might sound if you speak. 

“You never have to do that.” 

“I didn't mean to make it seem like you thought that I did,” you mumble. 

“I know. It's confusing, right? Being with someone new after a long time with someone else. But I want to be with you, and I'm sorry that you– that he made you feel that way, that he could treat you like that. I'm sorry.” 

“It's okay, Steve. I'm sorry too.” 

“Well don't be.” He works his arms around you in a hug, a careful hand behind your neck. “I don't want you to be sorry. You didn't do a thing wrong.” 

He sounds angry for a split second, and you know undeniably that he isn't angry with you. You hug him back with much more gusto, so tight he actually groans. He doesn't make you stop, though. Just hugs you closer in response.  

“You want me to get you some sweatpants or something?” he asks. 

You nod into his neck, slinking down further into his embrace. Neither of you make any efforts to actually pull away. 

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 9: Don't Let The Bed Bugs Bite

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!) Soldier Boy calls the reader "Petals."

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 6.7K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual jokes, sexual tension, Nightmare, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Drowning, Mention of Vomiting, SUPER GROSS SUPERPOWER, Reader is really oblivious, and I mean REALLY oblivious. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This chapter is just really fluffy and I didn't want to keep it to myself, because it makes me so happy. Well, after the first part at least.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Rain glazed all the sharp edges of the world outside the car, smearing the drops against the windows with a heavy hand. The humid air breathed and iced the glass, but did not disrupt the droplets that raced quickly by, catching and sparkling in the sporadic streetlights along the twisting road.

Your mother was singing softly along to "Nights In White Satin", the haunting melody building with every note, your father's deep baritone weaving with hers to make a wonderful melody in the silence of the night. The smell of rain seeped through the ancient air conditioning, the heady scent of wet earth and clean water filling the cab of your family's car.

 You smile to yourself in the backseat, sleepy and content, tracing a single finger against the smudged glass to watch each raindrop race against the fogged glass. You could still taste the chocolate ice cream on the tip of your tongue from the cone your parents have bought you on the way home, your hands and cheeks sticky with the remains. The leather seats of your family car are worn in and soft beneath you from years of family trips all over the United States. There was still a loose marble rolling around back and forth with every gentle rock of the car as it moved smoothly over the wet roads, a comfort when you were a baby and you couldn't sleep and your parents drove around the block to send you into the sweet abyss.

The sharp plunk of rain against the windshield is heavy, but your father reaches to turn up the song on the radio, flicking his eyes to smile at your mother one final time. And as he glances back up he shouts something.

You can't hear what it is, only that when you look out the windshield you see a brilliant flash of white light coming straight for the car and feel the car jerk to the right as your father yanks on the wheel. There's an awful sound of concrete against metal, a high pitched screech that you can't forget followed by the almost inhuman scream of terror that comes from your mother's mouth, as the car breaks through the concrete side of the bridge and goes off the road.

There's an awful moment of weightlessness and when the car hits the water everything goes black.

You jolt upwards out of bed, screaming at the top of your lungs, chest heaving and gasping for air as the memory of water filling your lungs floors your senses. You shudder involuntarily, rocking back and forth as you try to shake off the memory of your parent's death.

No one really knew what happened that night, what the bright light was that you saw or where it came from. The detective said that it had to be lightning, but it hadn't looked like lightning to you. Your parents had drowned inside, but you survived. When the police arrived on the scene of the crash they found you on the bank of the river with the branches of the trees forming a protective cage around you. The back windshield of the car had been completely destroyed, blown inward when the trees along the bank had reached in to pull you out.

You always thought it was funny that somewhere deep down your powers took over, you weren’t  sure if it was when you blacked out or if you somehow forgot what happened in your parent's final moments, but all you knew was that you were alive because you called out for help and the trees answered.

A part of you still felt guilty. It had been your fault that you were out. There was a music recital at school, they'd come to support you, Darren had stayed home too busy doing homework to care. He was taking courses at the local community college, too involved in his own life to pay any attention to yours, except when he needed you. You weren't sure why the trees hadn't saved them too, why you were the only survivor.

You reach for your bedside table, scrambling in the darkness to find the inhaler that usually helps, before finally putting it to your lips and taking in a long puff.  It helps for a moment. Your heart was still beating fast, a cold sweat making your sleep shirt stick to your back, as another involuntary shudder works through your body, the sound of your mother's scream ringing in your ears.

You press your face into your knees trying to calm your breathing when your bedroom door snaps in half. Pieces of the door shoot through the air like shrapnel as Ben appears in the doorway, shirtless, wearing only a pair of black sweatpants holding one of the lamps from your living room.

"Ben what the fuck?" You scream, heart already feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest.

"What happened? What's going on? Why did you scream?" He shouts back, eyes darting around the room as if looking for invisible intruders.

"Get out of my room!" You shout.

"Not until you tell me what's going on." Ben's eyes fall on you once more and you watch the tension in his shoulders drop an inch. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You lie taking in a deep breath, hoping that you can calm down your heart beat and that he's not paying attention to that.

He was.

"No, you’re not."

"Yes I am." You didn’t feel like doing this with him, didn’t feel like telling him exactly why you'd just woken up screaming or deal with him teasing you.

It had been a few days since the party and you had been trying your best to make things as normal between the two of you as you could, especially after you'd yelled at him. It had been more awkward the day after, not because of what you said to him, but because of what he yelled at you after the supe got away. He hadn't come back to the apartment until after you'd gone to bed and when you woke up on Sunday morning, Ben had gotten you coffee again when he went out to get a newspaper.

You figured that was his way of apologizing for yelling at you. That and he had insisted on walking to "Please Don't Die" with you on Monday and Tuesday morning, as if he thought that you were incapable of doing it yourself and then showed up when you got out of work at 5 to walk you back home. You didn't know how he figured out what time you got off of work, only that when he showed up to get you on Monday, he glared at Jake who was debating with you about which of Rory Gilmore's love interests was the best.

Jake had watched a few episodes with his younger sister when she visited him a few weeks ago to tour some of the colleges in New York, and she'd gotten him hooked. Annie and you had watched Gilmore Girls forever ago, but you'd started watching a few episodes now that it was fall and that meant you were being reminded of how much you obsessed over the show when you were younger.

Ben had stood there watching the two of you, noticing how close Jake was standing to you and how Jake seemed to smile even wider and how Jake spoke animatedly to you over the display of cactus all the while frowning and glaring daggers in the back of Jake's head.

You'd be lying if you said that you weren't reconsidering dating Jake. Ben had made it clear what he wanted and despite how much you were attracted to him, you knew that he didn't want to be what you wanted, and you didn't want to force Ben into something or try to turn him into something he wasn't. So you were trying to think about what it would be like dating Jake. He definitely had the kind of qualities you were looking for, he was one for relationships, he had the same sense of humor you did, he liked plants almost as much as you, he was kind and compassionate, and he had a warm smile.

The problem was you couldn't imagine what it would be like to date him and for some reason the thought of dating Jake didn't bring you as much joy as it would have a few weeks ago, and you had no idea why that was.

You also didn't know why Ben came to pick you up or forced himself to walk with you to work, especially if he hated Jake so much and hated being around Jake, but Ben did, and then bought you a cup of pineapple iced tea from your favorite shop around the corner from your apartment on the way home even though you insisted on paying for yourself. He thought that pineapple iced tea sounded disgusting, but because you liked proving him wrong, you'd let him have a sip and he'd grudgingly agreed that it wasn't "that bad," but then took another sip of it when you put it down on the kitchen counter for a second to pet Bean when he thought you weren't looking.

Honestly you didn't understand why he was so eager to walk with you to work or why he wanted to walk you back to the apartment. Not when Ben seemed to fill his life and all his time endless dates with the women of New York City, something that you noticed he hadn't done in the past three days since the party. You always figured he had better things to do than walk with you, and yet he had making somewhat pleasant conversation, well, pleasant for Ben which was not the same as pleasant for other people. But it wasn't terrible. He did occasionally tease you because you couldn't walk past a wilting plant without perking it up, but that was to be expected.

"No, you're not." Ben put the lamp down on the floor by your door. It didn’t have it's shade on it anymore and you figured that Ben had ripped it from the living room table when he heard you scream, throwing the shade to the floor when he kicked down your bedroom door.

The same door that was lying in pieces on the hardwood floor of your bedroom.

How am I going to explain that to the super?

"Yes-" You gasp for air and shove the inhaler in your mouth again to take another puff and this time it takes. "I am." You finish, swiping your free hand over your face to rid yourself of the tears, but for some reason they won't stop. "Please, Ben just go-" Your voice breaks for a moment and you bury your face into your knees again.

You really wanted him to go, didn't want to talk to him about this, didn't feel like putting up with his teasing or with his disgusting jokes, and didn't want him to make fun of you for using an inhaler, the same one you'd had prescribed by your doctor when he told you that your nightmares were causing panic attacks. You didn’t have to use it all the time, just when you had the dreams.

You feel the end of your bed dip and you glance up from your knees at Ben. He's sitting there, not quite looking at you, instead he's petting Bean where he was guarding over you as you slept.

"You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but I don't want to leave you when you're like this Petals." He says it more to the cat than to you, barely audible. Bean was leaning into Ben's hand as if Ben being in your bedroom, sitting on your bed was normal.

You suddenly feel like you’ve been struck by lightning. What he said was so honest so caring so completely unlike the Ben you knew that all you could do was stare at him. If anything the shock of what he said seemed to help you regulate your breathing and calm down from the images you had just seen in your nightmare.

Ben doesn’t say anything, just continues to rub Bean under his chin, sitting on the end of your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world and as if he hasn’t said anything at all.

You stare at him for longer than you should, tracing the dips of his broad shoulders, the gentle freckles that graces his skin, and muscles as the taper down his back. You’d seen him shirtless before, but every time you’re unprepared for how good he looks.

Right now he looks, different. He looks softer.

You’re not sure if it’s because of the yellowed light from your bedside table lamp or if it’s because he’s petting Bean, but there's something about him that feels more open, as if he genuinely cares, and it makes you want to talk to him. You sit there for another few minutes calming your breathing, still holding on to your knees, but you prop your chin on your knee so you can look at him.

Why won't he leave? Why does he care so much that he wants to stay here?

Bean stands and saunters up the bed to press his head into your shin as if he's checking up on you. "Hey buddy." You whisper hoarsely, rubbing him behind his ears.

Ben turns his body, folding one of his legs under him and the other hangs off your bed so that his bare foot is sitting on the hardwood floor of your bedroom. He's watching you with an unreadable expression, eyes following the trail of your hand on Bean's back, but Ben does not break the silence.

"I have nightmares sometimes." You whisper. Bean's thick gray fur was falling through your fingertips in a comforting way, his luminous amber colored eyes looking up at you. "But I'm okay."

Ben still doesn't say anything.

The high pitched ring of the metal of the car on concrete makes you wince and he doesn't miss it. You watch his hand twitch as if he wants to touch you, but instead he lays it on the bed between the two of you, sinking into the soft comforter.

"I've never heard you scream like that before." Ben murmurs under his breath. "I thought that-"

You glance up at him, eyes wide.

He runs a hand through his hair nervously, as if he's uncomfortable continuing the conversation. "I thought that the supe was in here with you."

"The electric guy?"

Ben nods once.

"No I don't think he's in here. Unless he's hiding under the bed or something." You smile weakly at the joke, but you can still feel the jolt of the car hitting the water and the sharp snap of the seatbelt cutting into your chest. This time you successfully fight the shudder.

Ben doesn't smile. "The nightmares aren't about him are they? Or when I-" He stops mid sentence eyes flicking away from you, ashamed.

You understood what he was asking. Ben and you, like any modern day meet cute, had met mid-fight, the night that Butcher took him to Vought to take down Homelander. Back then you hadn't been working for Butcher, you'd showed up with Annie, and when Ben advanced on her you'd shoved Annie out of the way from his outstretched hands.

You hadn't been fast enough to escape yourself and he had hauled you up into the air by your throat, his chest glowing a dangerous orange spreading up through his skin until it turned his eyes a molten gold. Your hands had held on to his wrists so tight that you felt like your skin was burning and you were desperately trying to think of a way out of this. But just as you thought he was going to explode, his eyes had locked on yours and you watched something move through them that wasn’t rage. Ben had thrown you across the room and gone after Butcher instead.

"Is that why you didn't want me to move in?" Ben's gaze is on you, something deep buried in his eyes that looks a lot like regret. "Because you're afraid of me? Because I hurt you?”

“Ben, no. I’m not afraid of you.” You touch his hand where it rests on the bed gently. He had hurt you. The bruising around your neck for the few weeks that followed was ugly and had to be covered up with turtlenecks and foundation to avoid people on the street asking you if you needed help.

But it hurt you more to know that he thought that you were afraid of him and that he worried about that. Because you weren’t afraid of Ben. Yes he lost his temper and would yell very loudly and always felt the need to scream his opinion to the world, but you didn’t think that he was a bad guy despite what he had done. If you had been afraid of him then you wouldn’t have let him stay with you in your apartment, let alone live with your cat.

He looks relieved when you say it. “Then what are they about?”

“I-“ You swallow, before dropping your gaze back to your knees. You retract your hand, but Ben turns his over, palm up and gently holds yours, not quite squeezing it, just laying beneath yours.

What in the actual fuck is happening?

You glance down at where he’s holding your hand, the warmth from his body comforting like the first day of summer, seeping through your body as it does to take away the chill the nightmare left behind. It seemed a little awkward for him, as if he wasn't sure what to do now that your hand was laying on top of his. He wasn't even entwining your fingertips together, but your fingers just barely curved over the thick muscle at the base of his thumb. His hand was bigger than yours, rough and worn in just the right places.

“It’s about my parents.” The words feel like cotton in your mouth. “The night they died.”

"Oh."

You bite the inside of your cheek. You weren't sure that you wanted to talk to him about this. You'd never wanted to talk to anyone about it. The only person you'd ever spoken about it with outside of your family was Annie. But he was here, and he was looking at you differently, and he was actually holding your hand, sort of, and he was acting so different than any time you'd spent together.

"I was twelve. It was raining and we were coming home from a music recital." You couldn't remember what it was you sang, just remember the people coming up to congratulate you and the large bundle of gardenias that your parents had bought you. "My dad was driving and they were singing in the front seat together."

You felt the tears begin to build behind your eyes, throat closing. You can't really look up at him now, all you do is stare at where his hand sits under yours. " We were crossing over a bridge and there was this brilliant flash of light, my dad swerved and the car went off the road."

Ben's hand finally curls around yours. "You were in the car?" His voice is lower now, emotion lacing his words. 

You nod once. "In the backseat." You whisper. "I can't really remember what happened after we hit the water, all I know is that the trees saved me."

"What?"

"I don't know if I somehow called to them as I was drowning, but they broke through the back windshield and pulled me out of the car, but my parents-" Your voice breaks and you don't try to finish the sentence.

Why am I telling him this? He doesn't care. All he wants is-

"I'm sorry." Ben murmurs, interrupting your chain of thought, sounding sincere.

You shrug. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Ben raises his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him, and you quickly get lost in the greenish glow that draws you in each time he looks at you. "Don't be sorry for that y/n. I'd rather be wrong and you be okay, than sleep through you screaming like that." Ben swallows. "I didn't like it." You watch the ends of his lips twitch for a second and he smiles. "And we both know how much I like to hear women scream my name.”

Despite the conversation you'd have previously, you snort and smile faintly. "Have you always been like this? Or is it a recent development?"

Ben shrugs, thumb rubbing just barely over your cheekbone. "I like to think of myself as charming."

"Of course you do."

"You don't think I'm charming Petals?"

"Nope."

"Still a bad liar." He laughs releasing your jaw to gently touch the scrunched skin between your eyebrows that gave away your lie.

"I don't really think you're that great at lying either." You roll your eyes, swatting away his hand. "At least I can pretend to like people."

"I can pretend to like people-"

"Oh really? Then what about Jake."

At the mention of Jake's name, Ben frowns.

"See!" You smile wide. "I don't understand why you don't like him."

"He's annoying. No one is that happy Petals. He’s probably been drinking the Koolaid for too long and is trying to get you to join a cult. The pussy is practically part golden retriever." Ben rolls his eyes, but then notices you yawn. "I should go." He stands, letting go of your hand as he does. "You need your beauty sleep."

You fight the disappointment that blooms in your chest as he lets go and the immediate loss that comes when he lets go of you scares you. You're afraid of how you seem to be so attached to him, to someone who has told you countless times he doesn't want a relationship, doesn't believe that you need a strong emotional connection with someone else, and someone who said that the only thing he wanted from a woman was to fuck them.  That last part stung a bit. You remember when he said it to you, when you were looking over the map at the other apartment last week.

But why would he say something like that and act like this with me? Why did he come in here to save me from the supe?

"I think you could use some beauty sleep too Gramps. Without it, you look your age. Can't hide all those wrinkles under make-up." You half-smile when Ben sighs, before you pull your hands into your lap and  cross your legs beneath you. "But, thanks for-well- making sure that no one was murdering me."

"It's what roommates are for." Ben pauses in the doorway before he leaves, the light from the hallway reflecting off the strong muscles of his upper back. His body sways, considering if he should say what he's about to. "I -uh- I get them too." He whispers it.

"What?"

"Nightmares." You see the tension in his shoulders, the word muttered almost like a curse, as if he doesn't really want to admit that.

Your body freezes. "About the lab?"

He looks down and you take that as a yes.

You could only imagine what that was like for him, to be trapped in another country, thinking every day that someone he thought he loved would come find him, but then never did. Again the idea of what Countess did to him, burns hot in your chest. It broke you to think that Ben spent all that time wishing and hoping that she would come for him. You would have. You would have fought tooth and nail to find the man you loved, even if it meant you getting trapped in the process. Not trying wasn't an option in your mind.

Honestly, it was difficult not to come up behind him and hug him, to hold him close and let him know that it was okay to break, that it was okay for him to admit those things with you, and that it didn't make you see him as less than a man. But of course that seemed more like a relationship thing than a friendship thing, not to mention you thought if you tried to do that, Ben would probably somehow get you in the same position you were three days ago when he pinned you against the car with his warm body pressed against you in all the right places and his beard tickling against the sensitive skin of your neck. And that would only send the two of you reeling back to square one, and you thought that in the past three days things seemed to be better between the two of you, more casual and more friendly.

You didn't want to ruin that when you'd practically embarrassed yourself at the party by yelling at Ben outside. So you stay in your bed, your legs still underneath your comforter, your heart no longer pounding in your chest, and your breathing even.

"Well," You say slowly. "If you have one, you know where to find me."

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes a little wider than usual and you think that he almost looks surprised. Ben nods once and vanishes down the dark hallway going back out to your living room.

You lie back in your bed, placing your inhaler on your bedside before you do, eyes focused on the ceiling and trying not to think about how good it felt to finally talk like two normal people with Ben and trying not to think about how he let you hold on to his hand.

You drag yourself through the front door of your apartment, exhausted, sweaty, and feeling like you'd swum through a dumpster that had been sitting in the sun for a week. You knew for a fact that you smelled, you didn't need super senses for that. The look of the people that lined the sidewalks of New York while you squished down the sidewalk and up into your apartment building was enough of a clue. Everyone had given you a wide berth and you didn’t blame them. MM even rolled down the window of his car when he drove you back. And he’d made you change your clothes into a set of gym shorts and a t-shirt that reached your knees and proudly proclaimed “I love you daddy” on it.

Yeah. It was that kind of day.

MM also made you sit with a plastic bag over your head to avoid smearing the remnants of the supe that was matted in your hair onto his seats.

When you woke up to answer your phone this morning, that was blasting the UK's national anthem aka. Butcher's ringtone, you knew that your day was going to suck. He had proclaimed over the phone loudly, because Mike had already started to screech Beyonce's "Love On Top,” that he needed you to deal with a supe. You thought that he was going to send you after the electric supe, but no, he and MM had caught a whiff of a supe that was robbing banks with his ability to liquify and turn his body into an tomato colored gelatinous mass.

I know, lovely right?

But of course, Butcher had decided that you were the one for the job and so he sent MM and you, while Ben was assigned to something else on the other side of town. The mission had gone wrong in the worst way, when the supe decided that the only way to fight you was to try and drown you in his liquified flesh, bone, and sinew.

When you'd finally scattered his body in the Hudson, you'd vomited for ten minutes, trying to expel as much of the supe as you could, but you still felt disgusting. MM had tried to be supportive, but the sight of you vomiting sent him hurtling to the nearest trashcan while his own stomach heaved. Not to mention  Butcher had chewed out the both of you good for technically "killing the supe."

But you'd rather the supe died than have to go through that ordeal all over again.

You'd tried to get as much of the orangey-red goo off of your body as possible, but it stained your clothes, so you had to walk through New York city looking like a giant bucket of paint was dropped on you and feeling sticky.

You turn around and lean your forehead against the front door with a loud sigh, trying to catch your bearings before you attempt to make it to the bathroom. You were happy that Mike hadn’t come out of his apartment. You didn’t want to have to explain to him why you looked like you’d taken a bath in tomato soup. Every few minutes you'd get a whiff of yourself and feel the urge to throw up all over again, living in the moment of the supe trying to shove his liquified body down your throat.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Ben asks from the charcoal couch, a blunt perched between his lips.

The living room had already started to look like his bedroom back at the other apartment, pieces of his dirty clothing were spread over your hardwood floors, old beer bottles were sitting on your coffee table, and there was a collection of half-smoked blunts in a large ceramic pot that you were letting Ben use as an ashtray. The room was still yours though. The plants on the walls and in pots around the space had not been harmed by Ben's habitation of your apartment. You wondered if that was because Ben actually was trying to respect your rules or if he was afraid you would throw him out.

I'm going to buy him a hamper. The last thing I want is to step on his dirty underwear on my way into the kitchen.

"The next time Butcher calls, tell him I died." You groan moving into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

He turns his head to stare at you. "Is that paint?"

"Nope." You shudder taking a sip from the water bottle, swishing it around your mouth to wash out the taste.

"Then what is it?"

"It's the supe. He was disgusting." You shudder and take another sip of water. It was helping a little bit, but you eat a handful of raspberries to try and get rid of the aftertaste. "I can still taste him."

Ben smirks. "You can still taste him? What part of him did you put in your mouth?"

"Don't be disgusting." You groan. "His power was liquification, okay, he could liquify his entire body-"

"Did you swallow?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"This is why we don't talk." You narrow your eyes at Ben. "He liquified himself and tried to drown me by shoving himself down my throat."

"Drown you?" Ben sits up straighter. "Are you okay?" You watch something shift through his gaze that looks a lot like worry.

Why is he worried?

"I'm fine." You hold up a hand and watch him relax and take a hit from the blunt. "But worst superpower ever."

"I don't know, kinda sounds like a fun way to get to know someone-"

"He was an idiot. He thought that whatever he lost would replenish."

"Wait what?"

"Whatever he 'drowned' me with didn't reform on his body. So he shoved himself down my esophagus and then he couldn't figure out why he was missing a hand, didn't think about stomach acid. Idiot." You roll your eyes. "But we couldn't contain him and the only thing that I could think of was to dump him in the Hudson. He wasn't strong enough to keep himself together in the current of the bay, it’s gonna take him centuries to piece himself back together." You shake your head. "What have you been doing? I thought you had a hot Tinder date or whatever."

He'd mentioned it this morning when you saw him briefly and grabbed a granola bar on the way out of the apartment. You hadn't spoke much since last night or really had time to talk about what happened, if anything did happen. All he did was let you hold his hand and -well- kick down your mother fucking door.

You weren't looking forward to sleeping without a door, it was the only thing that separated Ben and you, the only thing that gave you a little privacy. You figured that you could just hang one of the crocheted blankets over the doorway, but you were exhausted.

Ben shrugs, letting out a lungful of smoke. "Thought I'd just relax tonight. Didn't feel like going out."

"You didn't feel like going out? Mr. Casual-?" You begin to say, eyes sweeping through the apartment and looking down the dark hallway, stopping on your bedroom doorway.

Instead of the broken mess it was this morning, a new door has replaced it. It's a beautiful dark red wood that matches the floors that run through your apartment, different than the white one that had been there previously.

"Mr. Casual?" Ben asks while raising an eyebrow, clearly confused.

You were going to call him 'Mr. Casual Sex' but you couldn't finish the thought.  "Did you fix my door?"

"Huh?"

"My door." You point down the hallway, eyes shifting back to Ben, who looks suddenly uncomfortable. "The one you broke in half."

"Yeah- uh- I know how much you like your privacy." Ben grunts looking back at the flat screen tv. There was a baseball game on, but the T.V was on mute, the blue light flickering around the small room.

You suddenly have the overwhelming urge to cry. You figured that it was everything from today crashing down on you, the frustration you had with the supe, the smell, and now Ben was actually doing something nice for you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He still doesn’t look at you and you wonder if he's embarrassed that you pointed it out.

“Well I think I’m going to try to scrub whatever the hell this is off of me.” You say as you begin to walk down the dark hallway and Ben continues to watch the game.

“Wait Petals I’ve got something important to ask you.”

You look up at him expectantly.

“How much do you love your daddy?” His smile slips into a suggestive smirk. “Would you be willing to do anything  to keep him happy?”

“Shut up Gramps.” You flip him off and squish down the hallway to the bathroom.

When you get out of the shower you're missing several layers of skin. You'd scrubbed and scrubbed until you felt red and raw, but it was better than feeling the sticky remains of the supe all over your body. The clothes you wore were ruined and there was no saving them, but at least now you felt better.

You walk back out into the kitchen wearing a soft t-shirt and sweatpants. Ben was still sitting on the couch, but the blunt was gone. You hadn’t noticed before that his dark hair was wet, as if he had taken a shower before you got to the apartment, the smell of his shampoo was strong.

"There's pizza in the fridge." Ben glances over the back of the couch. "Much better Petals, orange is not your color. But I will say I miss the t-shirt.”

"I'm just happy that it didn't permanently stain my skin." You make your way to the fridge to pull out a slice of pizza, eating it slowly. "And very happy I didn't wear my favorite pair of jeans. I'm going to have to burn my clothes I think."

"I'm just happy you smell better." He wrinkles his nose. "Before you smelled like unwashed gym clothes and a fucking yeast infection."

"Thank you for that lovely comparison."

"You're welcome Petals." Ben presses his lips together. "Did you want to-" He pauses. "Watch a movie or something?"

"Oh, um-" You glance down the hallway. You really wanted to curl up with your newest romance novel under your covers and relax, possibly with a cup of calming blueberry tea.

Ben shakes his head. "Just fucking forget it-" He almost seemed angry with himself for suggesting something like that.

"Ben no. I do want to watch a movie with you, I just-" Your eyes flick to the t.v watching one of the baseball players hits a home run. "I kinda wanted to relax with some tea and read. I just got a new book and I haven't been able to start it yet. Annie and I are reading the same one and on Friday we're gonna have book club and I really need to decompress from everything that happened today." You say it gently, trying to let him understand that you wouldn't be opposed to the idea of watching something with him.

"Oh." Ben sits there for a moment considering what you said. "Well, do you want to sit out here? I know you don't exactly-" He clears  his throat. "Have a place to sit in your bedroom."

If Ben wasn’t living with you, you would be reading on the couch. Sitting in your living room surrounded by all of you plants always helped you relax. You hadn’t been able to do that since Ben moved in, not to mention you didn't want to encroach on his space.

“I mean if you’re watching T.V I don’t want to disturb you or anything-“ As soon as you say it, Ben hits the off button on the remote.

“I didn’t get to read the paper this morning and I’ve been trying to find the time all day.” He says, pulling the folded newspaper out from where it was folded and pushed up against the arm of the couch on his right side.

“Oh. Well. Um-“ You didn’t see anything wrong with sitting out here and reading with Ben. “Okay. I’ll just grab my book then.”

“Okay.” Ben breezes, before he glances at the left side of the couch where you would be sitting. The couch was in its upright position, which means it was more couch than bed, but Ben had stacked his blankets and pillows on the other side. “I’ll move my stuff.”

“Okay.” You say again because you weren’t really sure what to say.

You go back and grab the book from your bedside table, but stop just short of the door.

This is weird.

You think to yourself, holding the book tightly by its spine. You weren’t sure what was happening only that Ben and you were going to sit together on the couch in your living room quietly with no tv. And weirder still it was him that suggested you two do it.

He turned off the tv. He asked me to sit with him and suggested something non-sexual. You pause shifting from foot to foot. Because again Ben was confusing you. He was acting like the person you'd occasionally see when it was just the two of you, and it made you anxious. You didn’t want him to do this, to pretend to be someone you wanted just to get into your pants. It was like whiplash. Not to mention you didn't want Ben to force himself to change just for you.

Maybe… Maybe I can just go out there and pretend that this is normal and that he doesn’t just use women for sex like he told me. I will not overthink this. I will sit and read just like I planned.

You come out of your bedroom armed with your favorite crocheted granny-square blanket and the new book. Ben had cleared the left side of the sofa for you as he said he would and was now sitting with his newspaper spread out in front of him, one leg crossed over the other.

“Do you want some tea?” You ask him. You were just being polite, you knew that he would probably say no.

“Pineapple?” He actually kind of perked up as if he would have some if you made it.

“No it’s blueberry.”

Ben shakes his head. “Why do you like so many fruit teas?”

“Because they’re good and they enrich my life.” You snort before placing the book and the blanket on the couch next to Ben and go through the motions of making the tea. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“You’d be right. But could you pour me a glass of scotch?”

“Sure.”

When you’re finally hunkered down with your book and blanket, legs bent at the knee between the two of you, the book propped up on them, facing Ben with the right side of your head laying against the back of the couch, you feel yourself begin to relax. Bean is sleeping in a ball between the two of you. His soft breathing and the sound of pages being turned fills your apartment. The subtle thrum of the plants in the room soaks into your bones and you feel yourself begin to slip into the soft prose and for the first time in a long time you feel at peace. 

A/N: Annnnnddddd we're just gonna keep the Sky High References coming. Maybe the next supe they meet will glow… or turn into a guinea pig? 😅 Is it wrong that it's kinda making me want to do a Superhero High School AU with the Boys characters? That would be so crazy! I already have several other series fic ideas for Soldier Boy, but that idea is definitely going on the list to be considered.

As always thank you so much for reading and all the love and support! If you would like to be added to my taglist please let me know! 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver

[knightjpg]

In the third picture of Brick by Brick, there’s a guy straddling a ladder and that has me crying bc that’s asking for a hospital visit😭😭

But it makes me think that if Simon were to get hurt on the job, reader would always be there at home to patch him up. He doesn’t always care if he’s not doing something the safest way, and reader is none the wiser about the OSHA guidelines, so he oftentimes comes home waiting for the gentle hands he associates with home to help fix him up.

I love the story so far and I can’t wait for more of your amazing writing!💕💕

"Do I need'ta carry you t'bed, love?"

Simon's large hands stroke over your shoulders, and for a moment you pause to lean back into his touch with a sigh.

"All knots, you are," and Simon presses into a tight, unhappy muscle along your neck. You let out a little yelp and twist your head to give him a half-hearted pout.

"Just a little more? I almost have it."

Simon hums, gaze sliding over to the pile of open books and notes scattered over your desk. "How long you been at it?"

...Guilty silence. You squirm in your chair. "Couple hours."

Simon just waits, though his hands don't stop rubbing soothing little circles into your skin that have you melting under his touch. After a long pause you finally confess, "Well--since I got home. But--"

Far too long, then, by Simon's standards. He bends down, one hand sliding over your shoulder and curling around your throat, fingers flexing against your pulse. He feels you swallow when he murmurs in your ear, "Think it's time f'you to be in bed with me."

You let out a breathless little laugh like you think he's joking, but there's no outright refusal, and Simon isn't going to wait around long enough to get one. He lifts you straight out of your chair into his arms, and you're taken aback enough to automatically cling to him in that way that makes his chest glow bright red.

"Hey--!" you huff. Simon turns and heads for the door. "I can--honey," you say, this time with a laugh. "I can walk, c'mon. Put me down."

"M'afraid I can't. Made me wait too long. Had t'take matters in my own hands."

He squeezes said hands to drive home his pun. A sweet giggle, and you rest your head against his shoulder. "You're silly."

"Not as silly as--" Simon cuts himself off, biting his tongue. The door to your bedroom is closed and his shoulder throbs when he tries to twist one of his arms, still holding you, to nudge the handle down.

He tries to hide his wince, but this close up you notice the tightening around his eyes right away. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Am I too heavy?"

"A feather," Simon says, and it's the truth, but when he tries for the handle again his jaw jumps.

"Baby, no. Put me down." This time you sound like you mean it, and Simon begrudgingly and carefully lowers your feet to the ground. His shoulder twinges again in unhappy relief.

You look him over critically, hands stroking his arms like you're trying to locate the source of his pain from touch alone. "Are you hurt? Talk to me."

Ahh. Once the missus finds out she'll be upset, he told Price when he offered to call. Wasn't a big thing, nothing worth interrupting your day for, and he figured it'd heal soon enough that telling you would make you worry more than was in any way necessary. And he was right, wasn't he? You look anxious, chewing at your lip, brows furrowed in worry. Simon lifts his hand--his left side, the good one--to brush your cheek.

"Just a bit of a strain," he tells you. "In m'shoulder. Nothin' important."

"Why didn't you tell me?" you frown. "Baby, I could have--" You gasp, fingers squeezing his arms. "I asked you to empty the rubbish today!"

"It's fine, didn't hurt."

"Please tell me you had someone look at it."

"'Course I did," Simon grumbles, feeling more and more like a child being chided because they didn't look both ways before crossing the road.

"And what'd they say?"

You're not being entirely fair here with those doe eyes, softening your voice like you would at a stray dog, but knowing it doesn't stop Simon from responding exactly how you want.

"Just have'ta take it easy for a bit," he says gruffly. "Price knows, won't be dragging 'round anything heavy for a while."

"Hmm." You purse your lips and turn the handle, tugging Simon into the bedroom. You point to the bed. "Sit, please. I'm getting you a cold compress. And tiger balm."

Simon watches you with a small smile while you fuss over him, directing him to strip and sit still while you apply the cream.

"Yes ma'am."

Might not be all bad seeing you worry over him once in a while.

[kenny-the-ken]

Imagine being high school sweethearts with kenny and quickly trying to have sex without getting caught because he’s so horny lmao like hes begging for some head round the back of the school lol

Don't Be Shy

I love love LOVE this request!!! Part 2 of YOU + ME and My Brother's Best Friend will hopefully be up by later tonight or tomorrow!! Please keep the requests coming guys, writing these are keeping me sane at the moment, the terrible twos are no joke 😭💀 AGED UP CHARACTERS!!

"Baby, please? Not even a quickie?" Kenny whined at you, as you continued to walk down the school corridor, shaking your head.

"No way, Ken. After school, yes of course, but in school where we could get caught? Nuh-uh!" You replied and he frowned, pouting his lips at you and trying his best to give you puppy dog eyes.

"But watching you in Physical Education babe, god and the fact you swore that skort too, it's so short and your boobs and ass looked incredible! Please?" And he was back once again on his tangent of begging and pleading with you, and he was starting to wear you down, and he knew it.

"Okay, what about, we don't have to have sex, but maybe even a quick blowie out the back where no one is during class times?" Kenny asked and you paused for a moment, seriously considering it.

"I'll think about it." Was all you said, before giving him a quick kiss on the lips and making your way to class.

He had a free period while you were in art, and having most of your work done, you decided to toy with your overly horny boyfriend.

Y/n: Hey Ken, can I ask you a question?

Kenny 🧡: Yeah baby, what's up?

Y/n: So I bought some new lingerie a few days back and I only got round to trying it on yesterday evening, I took a few pics for you, I just wanted your opinion on them.

Attachment: 5 images

Kenny opened them and his jaw dropped to his feet, you were so good at taking lude shots of yourself, and you knew this would drive him crazy, his cock was rock solid, and that's exactly what you wanted.

Kenny 🧡: I think I want you to wait for me in the disabled access toilet on the first floor.

And you smirked scanning his message before putting up your hand and asking to be dismissed to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to you, when you got there the door was locked, and you tried the handle a few times, before the person on the inside unlocked it, opened it enough for you to be pulled in by their hand and the door was locked again as Kenny pinned you to it.

"You think you're funny, hmm? Sending me those pictures of you looking like you were just waiting for me to come in and tear them off you and remind you who this pussy belongs to." He said, his hand going straight up your school skirt and right to your wet panties.

You let out a small moan at the contact and Kenny slowly pushed you to the floor on your knees, unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers down, his large cock springing free and sitting against his stomach.

"Suck." Was all he said, grabbing your hair that was tied in a high pony and moving your face closer to his dick. You grabbed it with your hand, your tongue licking the bead of precum off the tip before hollowing your cheeks and taking him as best you could into your mouth.

Fuck this was just what Kenny needed, he'd been longing for you, your mouth, your pussy, anything as long as it was you. And his moans were deep and breathy, as you bobbed your head, staring up at him with a gaze of innocence.

"So pretty, Princess. Looking so innocent with your lips wrapped around my cock." Kenny moaned out, his hips bucking forward causing you to choke slightly, and he smirked.

"What's wrong, can't take it baby?" He teased before setting a quick pace with his hips bucking forward, you could feel his cock hitting the back of your throat, saliva and precum running down your chin, your hands on Kenny's thighs as you swallowed around him, earning a strangled moan from him.

"Fuck, your throat feels so good, what a little slut you really are." Kenny groaned once more, gasping as your hands cupped his balls, massaging them gently, your cheeks hollowing around him, sucking as best as you could, your eyes watering.

"Gonna make you look like a mess, slut." He moaned out, his hips quickening and his thrusts starting to become sloppy.

"Getting close, baby, gonna come in your mouth and you're gonna swallow everything I give you, understand?" Kenny asked, earned a hum from yourself in response as his grip tightened on your hair, moving your head quicker to meet his rough thrusts.

"F-Fuck, y/n!" Kenny moaned out, his vision going white as he came in your mouth, his back arching slightly, your head still bobbing up and down his over sensitive cock, milking every drop of cum from him, and swallowing, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you smirked up at him.

His hand cupped your face, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "You have no idea the things I'm gonna do to you when we get back to my house." His voice was deep, and he offered you his hand to help you up, pulling you into a warm embrace.

"Thank you, baby. I love you." Kenny whispered into your ear, placing a kiss on your forehead before slapping you on the ass.

"Now get that pretty ass of yours back to class before we get in trouble." He said, and you laughed, a smile on your face, kissing your boyfriend before unlocking the door, sneaking out one after the other as Kenny walked you to your class, leaving you off with a kiss.

"I'll meet you at lunchtime." He said with a wink, before heading back to his free period.

Your teacher inquired as to why you had been gone for so long as you made up an excuse, saying you felt like you were going to be sick, but you and Kenny both knew that was was the furthest thing from the truth.

[sanspuppet]

Horny thoughts about having San as your boyfriend, damn i can't stop thinking about this man 😮‍💨

Y'ALL SEE HIS NEW PIC? HAVE MERCY PLEASE MY LORD 🛐🛐🛐🛐

W/T: 18+ content (nono square for minors)

• imagine you two just laying on your shared bed, the both of you minding your business watching your phones, quite bored. And then out of nowhere you expose his defined abs for joke, by dragging his t-shirt up, but making him suddenly so needy for you to suck and leaving hickeys on every inch of his stomach (duuuhh im so obsessed with his chest)

• bet he'd get so jealous, not with strangers but with the other members, geez i think he would be quite annoyed by them flirting (jokingly) with you. But don't you dare to do the same, he'd instantly pin you at the wall and fuck you mercilessly, as soon as you come back home

• obviously he's not always rough, he'd also love you to give him head and just sucking him off, everywhere at anytime, there's no refuses. He'd love especially when you do it suddenly, feeling your tongue licking his dick as a surprise would make him so, and i mean so hard, maybe under the table while he's working, while he sleeps, under the blanket when he's watching a film...

• HE'S AN ASS MAN, PERIOD (and im so happy about it, cuz im obsessed with my ass, too) his fav position would be obviously doggystyle, he'd go crazy at the sight of his thick dick disappearing inside you, your ass red from all the times he would spank it, and slapping against his waist. I think he'd also sometimes, when you cuddle, palm it, lick it, leave small kisses and hickeys around its cheeks (im melting oh my-)

• he'd love to see you wearing his hoodies, especially the gray one (HE ALWAYS WEARS GRAY HOODIES). You wearing only that hoodie, layed on your bed, with him who drags it up a little, enough for him to could finger you, daaamnnn imagine his strong fingers finding their way into your pussy and then playing joyfully with your clit (HRMRNJDJE im going crazy for the things I AM writing on my own)

• when he's on tour he'd ask you to send him pics (nudes 🫢) he loves your sexy-aesthetic photos, no need to say he'd masturbate on them, imagine him stroking his dick desperately, because he needs to feel and see you soo bad. You perfectly know it, so you'd send him audios of you dirty talking just to tease him more (spoiler: he'd probably cum only by hearing your small whimpers), SO THEN HE WOULD PAY YOU BACK by sending you audios while he's reaching his orgasm, damn his moans would be so prettyy

• god... if you'd say to him something like: "baby im horny" he surely would reply to you: "fuck me, then" so you would immediately ride him. Imagine unzipping his leather jeans (i literally scream when i see him wearing them) his cock popping out of his boxers, already hard by the idea of you bouncing on it. And just like that, you'd take all of his length at the first thrust. When you'd stop because of too much friction, after bouncing desperately, he'd raise his hips and fuck you from beneath, overstimulating you because he loves to see you fucked out by him.

• passionate sex with him would be like heaven... 🫠 you layed on your back, on your bed, him on top of you, kissing you deeply, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth so softly. You're caressing his back, and he is doing the same with your hair, he'd attach his nose on your skin just to feel your soft scent. He would also make you understand, you're his significant one, by laying you on your stomach, legs open while he's sliding in and out of you deeply but sweetly, his hands resting on your ass, massaging it. It would be so relaxing, and after he has reached his orgasm, he would took his dick out and cum on your ass, smear it and then lick it off of you.

[spidybaby]

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Summary: Pedri is the picture-perfect boyfriend in front of the cameras and others, but not everything that shines is gold.

Warnings: toxic relationship, Asshole!Pedri, cursing, mentions of sex, mentions of dysfunctional family, cursing.

"Mi amor, can you get me some water? Please." he smiles.

You nod, standing and walking next to Sara, Gündogan's wife. You two hit since you were introduced. You loved her and she loves you.

"I'm a fan of your relationship." she says, noticing how all night Pedri was all over you, kissing your shoulder, making sure you were okay. "I feel like you two are like Ilkay and I."

"I don't think we are. I wished." You say honestly.

Sara smiles, grabbing her drink and helping you with your drink. You were carrying the two glasses of water from their kitchen to their dinner table.

"we are back!!!" Sara says, excited. "Pedri, I was telling Y/n that I love how of a good partner you are."

Pedri smiles, passing his arm around you to bring you into a hug. "She's the best thing that happened to me, I have to love and care for her."

You kiss him. "And I love and care for him too."

Sara and Ilkay love you too. They found friendship and support from you two, even when you are younger than they are.

The dinner kept going, you were invited after the first round of euros to dine with the Gündogans.

"Y/n, can you pass me the sauce, please?" Ilkay asks.

You nod, reaching the bowl, giving it to him. When you retract your arm, you hit Pedri's glass. The water wet his pants and part of his shirt.

You froze for a moment, noticing how he got up from the chair, drying his pants. Ilkay pass him a cloth.

"Perdón, it was an accident." You whisper.

"It's okay, Y/n." Sara reassures you. "It's just water, I'm sure you can dry the jeans on the dryer. Right, Pedri?"

"Si, it's okay, amor." Pedri says. Sitting back. "It was an honest mistake." He kisses your cheek.

"Let me get your more water." Ilkay says.

You feel the grip from his hand on your thigh. You just look down at his hand, gripping your flesh and giving you silent words with this action.

The three of them keep up with the conversation. Sara can't keep her eyes away from you. Noticing how you are so lost.

"Hey." She grabs your hand from over the table. "I need some advice with some outfits for a Cartier event. Help me?"

You nod, "Let me help you with the dishes."

You take your plate and Pedris one. Taking them to the kitchen and then walking with her to her closet.

"Oye, I have this black dress, I was going to give it to you in a box with a cute bow." She shows you the dress. "But I think now it's better because you can try it on."

"Thank you, it's so pretty." You hug her. "You didn't have to."

"I do. You always think about me and get me things."

"I do that by heart, I don't expect you to do it too. However, I love this, thank you very much."

"Gracias, in Spanish, please. I need to practice." She jokes.

"Gracias, Sara." You two laugh.

You hype her with every outfit she tries. Helping her with accessories and shoes. "I feel like so famous, I love having a stylist." She laughs.

"I love doing this, I'm so happy to have a friend like you." You smile, making her turn to see herself in the mirror. "Do you like this?"

She nods. "Let me change, and we can talk."

You two talk about the event, about some clothes you two were thinking about getting, about going to get your nails done.

"Sara, love." Ilkay calls from the living room.

"Ughh, like, let me talk in peace." She jokes, sticking her tongue to you. "We are coming!" You laugh and walk with her with your arm intertwine. "Are you guys leaving?"

"We have to. This beautiful lady needs to go to class tomorrow." Pedri says, making sara pout. "I can drop her here tomorrow, before training." He suggested, making you two nod.

You say goodbye to them, hugging Sara and Ilkay goodbye. "Adiós." Pedri says, doing the same.

When you are at the elevator, he lets your hand go, focusing on his phone. You feel your stomach sink. You know the deal.

After what happened at dinner you know he wouldn't even look at your for the rest of the night.

"Im sorry." You say, trying to grab his arm. "Pedri, let's not do this tonight. It was an accident."

He scuffed, taking a step away from you. You stayed quiet, tired of the routine. You walk to the car in silence.

"Can you drop me home?" You ask.

"No, we are going to my house. You can take an Uber to yours or stay over, I don't care."

"I don't want you to be mad at me, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."

He sighs, closing his eyes for a second. "You are dumb, you know that, right?"

You frown at his words. You were not dumb. "Am not." You say. "I'm saying sorry, you don't need to insult me."

"Do you want my forgiveness or not?" He asks, smiling. He knows what he's doing.

"I do, but I'm not dumb, Pedri."

"Fine, all you had to do was say yes." He starts the car. Driving to his home like he told you.

You feel weird. You want him to talk to you but not over the condition of you saying you are dumb.

He parks inside his garage, getting out of the car as soon as he turns it off. You stayed there, wondering if it's worthy to try one more time to get him to stop being mad or if you should go home.

You decide to try one more time. You walk inside, finding him drinking a smoothie you got for him before crashing at his place.

You hug him from behind. "I don't want you to go to bed and be mad at me."

He turns, passing an arm around your waist. His eyes scan your face. You look at his eyes the whole time.

"You are so pretty." He says, leaving the cup on the counter and using his now free hand to grab your cheeks. "So pretty."

He kiss your cheeks, thumb caressing your face. You have a small frown. Not understanding what shifted.

"Do you love me?" He asks.

"I do, te amo más que a nada."

He scuffed. "Then why do you keep making me mad?" He asks. You wanted to say something, but he shush you. "You are so pretty yet so dumb."

You let go of him, taking his hand away from your face. "Stop it." You demand. "Why are you doing this? Over an accident? Really, Pedri?"

He laughs. "You are even prettier when you are angry." He grabs your face. "You are lucky to be that pretty." He says, kissing you.

You pull away from the kiss and his hold. "Stop it." You repeat. "You are hurting me."

He rolls his eyes, grabbing your arms and pulling you for a hug. "Fine, I'll stop." He kisses your head, hands on your hips to keep you steady.

You feel weird. You want to say more, but you don't want to fight over and over again.

You try to pull away, but the hold he has on your hips grows stronger. "Why are you pulling away? I thought this was what you wanted." He says. "Hug me."

You hug him, hiding your face on the crock of his neck. You don't want to cry, not in front of him.

"Te amo." He says, kissing your shoulder. "Tell me you love me." He demands.

"I love you." You say, voice breaking in the process of doing it. "Can I go home now?" You ask, tired.

"Sleep here."

"I don't have my books or anything." You explain. Pulling away a little to see his face. "Can you drive me home, please?"

"I don't feel like driving, stay here, and we can get your things tomorrow when I take you to class."

You nod, not feeling like arguing more. You go back into the hug. Cheek sticked to his shoulder. He keeps kissing your shoulder and neck, leaving small pecks.

"Te amo." You say again. Tired of feeling the way you do.

"Mirame." He says. You look up at him. "Te amo, don't make me mad. Be careful with your surroundings." You nod, taking all the blame over an accident. "Let's go to bed, we can watch that movie you've been wanting to see."

You smile a little, taking that small action as a "sorry" because the actual sorry is not coming, and you know it.

You let it go, not sure if you want to ever address it. You don't want to waste energy into something that will just go wrong for you.

You stopped thinking about it after a few days, focusing in your life and your activities. Not paying too much mind to him or his moods.

You got a call from him, you don't take it. You had a little fight over the phone yesterday. You didn't feel like hearing him.

But on the third try, you pick it up. "What do you want?" You ask, not caring about your tone.

"Hola, I'm fine, thank you for worrying about me." he says mad, you roll your eyes. "bitch" he whispers under his breath. But you heard it.

"If you call to pick on a fight again, I much rather spend my time in other things."

He stays quiet for a few seconds. You can hear his breathing. He's trying to calm down.

He just had a very bad day and wanted to talk, but the situation from last night didn't help anything.

"Y/n," he began. "Amor, I want to invite you tonight to a dinner with Sara and Ilkay."

You roll your eyes. He was so typical. "Si, pick me up." You say, walking towards your class. "I have class, bye." You hang up on him.

You pass the class texting him. He was mad about how you hung up on him without even saying goodbye.

You were mad about him and the last night fight, you were mad about how he called you a bitch, you were mad about a lot of things.

You take a cold shower to relax, trying to erase the mad feeling. A bit of concealer to cover the bag under your eyes.

You hear the doorbell. Your mom let him in, he says hi, giving her a bouquet of flowers he got her.

"She's in her room, kiddo." she says, getting away from the hug. "Thank you, Pedri."

He walks the way he knows by heart. He's been to your house time after time, after time. He knocks on your door. Waiting for you to say he can come in.

You open the door, looking at him with a neutral face. "Hi, Guapa." He smiles.

You don't change your expression. If your parents weren't there, he would have been saying other type of greeting. And you know it.

"I need to get dressed." You say, opening the door for him, letting him walk inside and closing the door again, making sure it's locked.

"Nothing I haven't seen." He kisses your shoulder, whispering the words. "What are you wearing."

"Not sure." You shrug. Walking into your closet and going for a black off the shoulder top, skin-tight jeans, and some ballerinas to make it a little casual.

You notice Pedri is watching you, he's leaning against the doorframe. You change like he wasn't there.

"Isn't that top a little down?"

"I like it that way." You grab your bag, putting your lip product, your hand cream, hand sanitizer, and keys inside. "Let's go."

You pass him, he's looking at the top you are wearing. He gets closer to you while you check that your hair and makeup. You watch him through the mirror, his hand on your tummy, his hand moving the hair that rests on your shoulder so he can place his face on the crock of your neck.

"You look so good." He kiss your shoulder.

The way he's pecking your neck, the way his hands are gripping your waist and getting you to be closer.

"You smell like paradise." He bits your earlobe. Kissing behind your ear, earning a small moan in return. "Tan preciosa, tan mía."

He turns you, you are now facing him. His lips take yours, starting a war between tongues. He separates for a moment, you let a small whine.

He attacks your neck again. Lips burning your skin like fire. Hell fire.

He walks to the bed, laying carefully on top of you while taking your lips one more time. He thanks all the stars for his good resistance. He doesn't need to take air that quickly.

His hands find your breasts, squishing one while his other hand goes up to your neck to bring you closer. If that's even possible.

The same hand that's massaging your breast is now pulling your top to get better access, his mouth now sucking and leaving marks only he can see.

You throw your hand back, enjoying the feeling. You have to bite your lips to keep quiet. Hands on his hair, pushing him closer to you.

While his lips are occupied, his hands travel to your jeans, undoing the button and the zipper. You elevate your hips, allowing him to pull them down.

You want to stop, knowing that your mother could walk up and knock on the door was scary and risky.

Knowing your father was working a few rooms away is pulling the adrenaline to a higher level. It was all risky and crazy.

He circles your center, making you hard to breathe, lips on yours again to silence the small sounds you can't contain.

Two fingers in and his thumb working against you is making you unable to open your eyes from the pleasure.

When he gets you to your high, he keeps kissing your lips and neck. Waiting for you to gain composure.

"Y/n, baby." You mom yells from downstairs. "Bring me my charger, please."

You can't say anything back. You don't want your voice to betray you.

Pedri takes the task. "We are looking for it."

"It's in the office, thank you."

You push him lightly, he helps you with your top and makes sure your hair is not nodded from the back.

"Vamos! The charger is in the office." He laughs, kissing your shoulder. You spray perfume again, he has your bag in his shoulder.

"Vamos" you repeat.

You open the door. Feeling his gaze burning your skin. You enter the office and grab your mom's charger.

"Mom, I left the charger on the table by the door, we are leaving." You quickly grab him and pull him outside. "You are crazy."

He laughs hard. Opening the door for you. "You are welcome, amor."

You shake your head, smiling at him. The whole trip to Sara's is quiet, not a bad quiet. Just quiet.

You ring the doorbell and a very happy Sara welcomes you. You hand her a cake Pedri brought for the dinner.

"Gracias!" She says happily. "Come in. I want to introduce you guys to someone." You walk hand in hand with Pedri.

Ilkay, Ferran, and an anonymous man are standing in the living room. "Hey, you guys made it."

"Sorry we are late, we had to figure something else before we got here." He squish your hand, you can't help but blush a little at his words.

"He's always the first one at training but somehow manages to be late to a dinner. Fucking simp." Ferran jokes. Teasing Pedri.

You let go of his hand, excusing yourself and helping Sara in the kitchen. "Hello, Kais" you say hi to her son, who was smiling at you as soon as he saw you.

"Say hello, baby." Sara grabs his hand and waves it. "I'm just making sure dinner is not getting burned."

"It smells so yummy." You say, sniffing dramatically and making her laugh.

"Sara, I'm going to stole a little bit more of wine."

"Oh, come here!" She smiles. "Y/n, this is Mauro. Mauro, this is Y/n." She introduces you. "He's my brother. He's 24 and just graduated from the same career you have."

"Oh my god! twins." You say happy. "I'm halfway there, so see you in a couple of years."

"Enjoy the last moments. After graduation, everything is crazier." He jokes, making you laugh. "I thought that career wasn't here in Barcelona."

"It is, actually I think it's kind of old here."

"Well, I was in Italy studying, so not that I needed that information."

"A second option is always good." You smile.

You talk with him a lot during the time between dinner and while the other talk about football. Even Sara left you two alone in the kitchen.

He was giving you advice about finals and how to study and handle practice for your future in the career.

"Amor, are you drinking anything." Pedri asks, walking into the kitchen and standing next to you.

You don't even pay attention to his question, asking him to wait while Mauro gives you the info about an extracurricular that would help you.

"What did you say?" You turn to him. "Wait, let me just finish with Mauro and I'll be with you." You turn back to the man in front of you.

Pedri notices everything. The way his eyes go everywhere in the room and land without an excuse in your chest area.

How he takes a good look at you, it's making him mad. How your laugh can be heard from outside the kitchen.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He grabs your arm, not really waiting for your answer.

He walks over to the corridor that takes you to the rooms. Entering one, not caring who it was.

"Qué mierda estas haciendo?" He asks mad, turning the lights on. "Did you drank something?"

You make a face, "what do you mean?" You smile, not caring much about the situation.

"Don't act stupid." He lowly says, the angry tone confused you even more. "I can't believe you don't fucking know what I'm talking about, stop playing the dumb."

"I literally have zero idea what you mean."

He scuffed. "The way this dude is looking at you, fucking you with the eyes."

You want to say something, but he keeps talking, taking his jealousy out.

"I fucking knew it." He laughs. "That fucking top not even helping, why so you even dress for like that?"

"Pedr-"

"No, shut the fuck up." He says in this stern tone. "I don't even know why you have to dress like a needy whore. You have me, if you need something you can ask me to fuck you."

You shut your mouth, not even trying to defend yourself. You don't have it in you. Also, you were in someone else's house, you weren't going to cause an scene.

You bite your tongue, trying to not explote at how fucked up his words were. You just let him drop his shit onto you.

"And fuck, I thought we were fine, but we are not." He keeps rambling. "And was me fucking you before we got here not enough? Did you need my dick in your mouth to learn how to act?"

You put your hand in front of his face. Making him shut up. You want to yell, but you won't.

"I'm leaving." You say, sniffing a little. "Enjoy dinner, amor." You say the last word with such bitterness it could kill.

When you walk out, you notice Sara is hearing the conversation. She grabs you and walks to you to the room next to the one you are in.

She closes the door. "What the actual fuck was that?" She whispers to you. "What the fuck did he say to you?"

She was kinda red, mad to a point she felt like hitting someone. That specific someone would be Pedri.

"Sara, calm down, please." You grab her by the arms, sitting in the bed. "This is your dinner, please let's talk about this later."

She shakes her head no. "I can't, I want to punch him."

"Just breathe." You say, helping her with breathing. "Please don't say anything." You beg. "Let's just act like nothing happened."

"Y/n, why are you allowing him to be an asshole to you?" She asks, standing in front of you with a mom pose. "Is this regularly?"

"No, let's just go put and have dinner. You took time out of your day and prepared us something so yummy. I'm sure we will love it."

You stand, giving her a hug. She sighs, giving you a tight hug back. "We need to talk after this. If I'm quiet right now is because of you."

You nod, walking with her to the living room. Pedri looks at you and then at Sara. She doesn't look at anything, just the floor.

"You feel better?" Pedri asks you, smiling so fake you want to laugh. "Is your head still hurting?"

Sara stands next to Ilkay. She looks at you in a way that feels like a deer in headlights. "Si, thank you." You say. He kisses your head. Hugging you.

"Let's eat." Ilkay says.

You feel like throwing up. With the way Pedri is holding your hand so hard, you want to scream, and the way Sara is about to stab him with a fork.

It was all like a bad movie, and you were the starting actress.

"Don't get all shy on me now, pose." You say laughing.

Sara, Natalia, and you were taking some pictures for their Instagram. You love spending time with them.

"Go Nat, go Nat." Sara cheers. "You look gorgeous, Alo girl."

The three of you enjoy the little time you have together. It was fun doing these little photoshoots with them.

"Y/n, you should open your Instagram. You would get a lot of brand deals." Natalia says. "It would be fun."

"I've been begging her to do it. The other day at the Cartier event I went, the PR person asked me about her. Spain is crazy about you and your relationship with Pedri."

You laugh, you know you will get some deals like the ones the wags get, makeup deals, clothing brand deals, sports wear deals like Alo.

"I'm not the influencer type."

"But you can be, believe me. You just need to post a picture and ignore the haters." Natalia says.

"Yes, my favorite button is the block one." Sara jokes. Making you all laugh.

You didn't feel like being exposed to all the drama and all the comments. You didn't want to allow people to comment on your life, your decisions, yourself.

"I'll think about it." You lie.

You walked back inside Natalia's house. They wanted to go for a little coffee. The kids were coming with you.

"I love how your kids are so calm. You make motherhood seem so easy." You hug Sara's son.

"But it's not." Sara says. "It's so hard, people don't really talk about it enough."

"Yeah, they make it seem like the best thing and won't tell you the ups and downs of the situation."

You nod, hearing both of them talk about their struggles and their ups and downs with the life of a mother.

"Let's change the topic. Y/n, are we ever going to see Pedri put a ring on your finger?" Taia asks, joking with you.

You sigh, not sure how to approach your feelings about the marriage topic. You wanted him to do it, but at the same time, you don't.

"I'm not sure. If im honest, I feel like my relationship with Pedri is not what it used to be."

You were brutally honest, you can't lie to them. They know you. Natalia, is your friend, you two know each other so well, she comes to you for advice and you do the same to her.

Sara is your newest friendship, but she is so motherly and so protective that she feels like a big sister who needs to protect and nurse you with love and care.

"Is this about the fight you two had the other day?" She rolls her eyes, annoyed at the thought.

"What fight?"

Sara sighs. Blood boiling at the memory of that. "At the party, she was talking with my brother. It was a normal conversation. They were laughing at some topic. Pedri was with Ferran and Ilkay, not paying attention, and it was nothing to pay attention to because they were just talking."

"Okay."

"And then I noticed Y/n and Pedri are not in the room with us, and we are about to eat, I'm looking for them, and I found that asshole telling her horrible things. Calling her names."

Natalia is speechless. She never thought Pedri was that kind of boyfriend, specially because he's one to always make sure you are okay, always asks about you, hugging you and kissing you.

"It's not that serious." You say.

"It is, Y/n." Sara scolds you. "Stop trying to take his blame away."

"Wait, is this something that he said because he was jealous?" Natalia asks. "Was this just a one-time thing?"

You look away, you don't feel like talking about your relationship problems with them, not when they don't experience the same and won't understand you.

"It's not?" She asks loudly. "Why would you allow this?"

"That's what I asked her. Why are you allowing him to be an asshole?"

You feel weird, Pedri is not an asshole. He's just complicated, but he loves you, and he does a lot for you.

"You don't know him the way I do." You say. "He might come across mean or whatever, but he loves me so much and cares about me. You just don't understand."

They think about the approach they want to deliver for what you just say. How do you defend someone who hurts you? How do you think care and love are enough to accept the pain?

"I know you think I'm crazy because I put up with this, but I love him, and I trust that he can change. I can help him do it."

Natalia grabs your hand. "You don't have to be the therapist of someone whose only goal is to hurt you."

You take your hand away from her grip. "I'm not trying to be that. But he can chance, I know that."

You get up carefully, Sara's baby still in your arms. You gave the baby to her and pick your bag.

"You don't have to leave." Taia says. "Let's just calm down."

You leave a bill on the table, enough to cover the drinks. "I'm sorry, but I don't feel like being here anymore." You say and then walk away.

You feel so down, you can't help the tears that accumulate in your eyes. You wanted a hug and someone to tell you what to do with your confused feelings.

You walk into a small bookstore/coffee shop. You just left your untouched coffee on the table back with your friends. And you needed something else. Something fresh.

You walk inside, the shop is empty. You and the girl who's at the register. You greet her and ask for a cold drink.

Walking to see if any book catches your eye while she makes it. "Are you looking for a specific book?"

"Anything on how to make someone stop treating you like garbage?" You say being way too honest with the girl. She stayed silent, and you then re-think your words and walked up to her. "Sorry, that was really inappropriate."

"It's okay, I've been asked that question like five times."

"Nice, any advice then?"

"I'm not a psychologist, but one I had a friend who I loved, but she treated me really bad, and I used reversed psychology on her. I started doing to her what she did to me. It fixed the problem for us." She says. You nod at her answer. "We actually have a book on the theme if you want to."

She hands you your drink and walks over the corner of the store, grabbing a book and walking back to you.

"I think this will work for you." She says.

"Do you want to try this?" He asks you with a mouthful of food. "It's mmmm"

You nod, bitting his burger and offering him a piece of yours. You smile at his happy state.

"This is the best way to break a diet." He laughs, sipping his soda. "I love you for this."

"I know you do." You say cocky.

You two talk about his next game, he invites you to go with him. Offering to but you the plane ticket in that moment.

"We can wait to get to your house, amor." You laugh.

He takes a bite of his food, the sauce of the burger dripping into the seat, your cream color seat.

Normally, you would mind, it's a leather seat, and nothing a wipe can't take out. But you remember that one time that happened to you in his car.

He was so mad at you because he cleaned the car that morning. Getting mad and giving you a big lecture of being careful with others' belongings.

"Pedro, what the fuck?" You act mad. Nervous a little, but you had to do this. "I just cleaned this car."

He looks down to where the sauce was. "It's just sauce."

You scuff. "Yeah, but it's just fucking sauce on my white seat." You say louder. "My not even 24 hours clean seat."

"It's okay, amor." He says.

You shake your head. "You say that because it's not your car."

You keep eating in silence. Shaking your head and making a discomfort sound here and there. You can see feel the corner of your eye that he looks worried.

"Y/n, don't be mad." He says in this adorable small voice.

You wonder if he thinks the same way about you when he gets mad and acts like this with you. You wonder if he feels the guilt you feel right now.

You turn to him. Looking at him. "I was having a good time, Pedro. But now I'm not, because you decided to ruin it."

You repeat his same words. Noticing his worried eyes.

He frowns. "I can pay for it to he cleaned again." He tries to get your hand. You take it away. "Amor, don't be like this."

You grunt, rolling your eyes as you look at him. "Fine, but you need to be careful, this is a brand new car."

"You called me, Pedro." He pouts.

"It's your name." You shrug, rolling your eyes. "Shut up and give me another bite of your burger." You act like nothing happens.

He half smiles, handing the burger in front of your mouth. You take a bite without taking your eyes away from him.

"Give me a kiss." You say after swallowing the food. He does, giving you three pecks. "Good boy." You smile.

That was one of the first times you did the same thing he does to you. You felt so bad looking at him all sad and worried.

The next time is at your house, he was making this thing he learned from Fer. Something healthy and good for a snack when he feels hunger.

Your parents were on a trip, you had your house all alone, just him and you. So you were using the time that you had to be with him.

"I'm making enough for you to have a little for your class tomorrow." He kisses you.

He prepared something Fer taught him, it was healthy and easy to do, and he wanted to practice.

You wanted to do something he did to you a few months ago. You were playing the best uno reverse card of your life.

"It's bitter." You say, making a face.

It was, in fact, not bitter. It was so good you wanted to finish it like a shot.

"Is it?" He asks, tasting it. "Amor, it taste fine." He laughs.

You walk over to the sink, throwing it down. You feel bad doing it. "This tastes like battery acid, dude."

"Did you just throw my food?"

"You need to stick to football, you will kill someone with that nasty thing you call food." You laugh.

He looks over at the full container he saved for you. His eyes got all sad about your words. You wanted to run to him and tell him it was all a lie.

"Oh." He says, turning and mixing the thing.

You grab your keys and wallet. "Let's go, I'm getting us something that we can actually eat. Not that thing you made."

He's quiet, a little too much. You weren't as mean as he was that time, but you did use all the things he said.

"I'm sorry about the food, I thought it could, but I'm not that good, apparently."

"Yeah, you aren't." You scuff. Eating your salad.

He felt sad. He spent over two hours making the meal for you, and all you did was tell him how bad it was and how disgusting it tasted.

The third time was once when you were about to have dinner with Ferran and a few of his friends from Valencia.

He invited you so you could meet his girlfriend and some friend he was very close with. You say yes and told Pedri you were going to pick him.

It has been a few crazy months. You acted like him. Giving him the silent treatment, giving him ugly glares when he said or did something you would normally laugh or smile at.

But nothing compares to what you had planned for tonight, it was the night. You felt nervous just at the thought.

"Pepi, I'm here." You say, opening the door with your key.

He was home alone, Fer was in Tenerife with his parents, and he was spending a few says alone and only with your company.

"I'm my room." He yells back.

You walk upstairs, opening his door and finding him getting dressed. "Hola, mi guapo." You get closer and kiss his lips. "I love the jeans." You smirk.

You let him talk about his day. Not really paying attention to whatever he says. You need to begin with your plan.

"Ready?" He asks, laying down next to you in bed.

You sit down, turning and sitting in bed. "Mhm" you say. Kissing his lips. You feel his hand on your neck.

You sit on top of him, hands grabbing his cheeks to deepen the kiss. You move your lips from his own to his neck.

He has his hands on your hips. You ask him to move a little up to bed to have more access to him.

You are now squatting over him. One hand on the mattress to keep you steady and the other placed on his crotch area.

You pat him, making him moan. You move a little down. Letting go his lips. "Hips up." You say, looking into his eyes. You can tell he's turned on.

You pull his jeans and boxers down enough to get access to him. You got back to kissing him. "Spit on my hand." You scoop your hand to his mouth.

He does what you ask, and you grab him in your hand, making up and down movements. Your lips back on his while you work him.

"So fucking handsome." You say, pecking his lips. "So handsome and so mine." You bit your lip.

When he tries to touch you, you grab his hand. Speeding your movements. His moans and how he's rolling his eyes are driving you crazy. You can't deny it.

You draw circles on his tip, playing with the little white liquid, making it easier for you to touch. "Mierda, don't stop." he moans.

You keep working him until he reaches his high. Kissing him to calm him down. You grab a small cloth he had near that he used to clean something.

You cleaned your hand and helped him with the mess you made him make. Kissing him again once you are done.

"Let's go?" You ask, bitting your lip as he gives you a certain look.

"I feel like staying in."

"We already told Ferran we were going. We can leave early, but let's go, mi amor." You kiss him one last time.

He fixes his clothes, walking behind you. He loves your outfit, the way that skirt looks on you, and that pretty black top.

You drive to Ferran's house. You love passenger princess Pedri. He was so cute, not worried and stressed about driving.

"I got cupcakes for dinner." You say, taking them out and asking him to lock the car with the controller.

You enter, saying hi to everybody. Ferran introduced you to two girls, one of them is how girlfriend and his three boy friends.

You talk with Ferran's girlfriend, she's asking about going to the game together and wanted to meet for coffee and having a talk before the game.

You notice how Pedri is talking with this other girl. You don't mind how she's very touchy and grabby because he's always taking her hand away.

But this girl doesn't know she just gave you the perfect material that your plan needed. "Can you excuse me for a second? I just need to tell Pedri something."

You walk over to him, hugging his arm. He grabs one of your hands while you do that. "Hi." He says, kissing your head.

"Hi, what are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, nothing." The girl says quickly. "Just football and all that boring stuff."

You nod, letting them keep talking. It was so obvious this girl came to kill. Her top shows the perfect amount of boobs, her skirt is about to show her ass and she's all touchy with your man.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"You ask him. Pulling him to one of the guests' rooms Ferran has downstairs.

"You okay?" He asks.

You take a deep breath, ready to play the same game he did. You didn't want to but you have to.

"Can I ask what the fuck you think you are doing." You ask, mad tone. "Did you take something?"

"Y/n, what are you talking about?"

"Don't act stupid, you know what you are doing."

"Amo-"

"No, Pedri." You say, shutting him down. "this fucking girl is over there, all hands in you and all you have to say is <what are you talking about?> I'm not stupid. I can't see her eye fucking you"

"Amor, this isn't you." he tries to get close to you.

"No, Pedro." You pull his hands away from you. "why are you acting like a needy prick? Does me fucking you before coming here was not enough?"

You shiver from the memory of him telling you the same thing.

"Do I need to stick my fingers into your mouth to teach you to shut up and act like a good boyfriend?"

He just shakes his head no. Walking backwards and leaving the room. You feel so bad about everything. But he did the same thing.

You take a few breathes, walking out to find him talking with Ferran. He has this sad eyes. You want to apologize.

"Hey, are you feeling better?" You ask him. "is your head still hurting?"

He gives you a look, not really saying anything. Just nodding at your question.

"I was telling Ferran that we are leaving. My head hurts really bad."

"Fucking bad, he's been like that for a few days."

"ay bebé," You say. Grabbing his cheek and kissing it. "Let's go so I can take care of you, mi bebé."

He half smiles at you, grabbing your hand and saying goodbye at everyone. You walk with him till the door is closed, you let his hand go, you are mad about this stupid dynamic.

You search for your keys. "Y/n?" You ignore him. Not caring about turning and asking him what he needed. "Y/n, please not tonight."

You walk to the car, unlocking the doors and putting your seat belt on. He can't keep his eyes away from you.

"Please, don't do this."

"Do you even know how much this shit is hurting me, right now?" You ask him. You can feel your eyes tearing. "I can't, Pedri."

You dry your tears, driving in silence to his house. "we fucking need to talk." he says. Opening the door of the car.

You feel so bad about the way you treat him. You can't understand how is possible for him to do it to you.

"I don't know what the fuck is taking over you. But you have to stop. This isn't healthy anymore." he yells.

"Then why you do it to me?" You yell back. "Pedri, you have done this to me multiple times."

"I have not."

"You have!" You yell again. "I don't know how you can do it. Fuck, I'm in pain when I do this to you, but you did this time after time, after time. Why?"

He stayed quiet. You cry into your hands, feeling so down about the whole thing. Feeling like you don't have the energy to keep this deadly game.

"I don't -" He tries, but he stops when he hears your cries. He thinks about how he ignored you and acted mean towards you and never fully apologized. "Joder."

"And I see my dad." You say, sobbing. "Do this shit to my mom, and I think yo myself, why does she deal with it? Why isn't she leaving?" You sob harder. "And you do it do me. You treat me the same way."

You fall down to the couch. The way your sobs reflect the broken feeling in your heart is breaking his own.

He knows you family life is not the most comfortable. You rather spent some time at home with him than at your own place.

But he never questioned your motives, he never questioned you when you asked if you could crash at his place. He never questioned your motives when you preferred to have dinner at his home with Fer and him than at home with your family.

"And my excuse is that you love me and you care for me, but my heart and chest hurts when I think that we will be like them. And how if we ever have kids, they will feel the same way I did."

"Amor, please take a breath." he kneels down in front of you. "C'mon baby, two more."

"I thought it was normal, maybe boys treat girks like that, because if daddy does it and mommy allows it, then it's okay, but this is not okay, we are not okay." You cry. "I love you so much." You grab his face. "but we need to change this, I can't. I won't live the life my parents live. I won't be my mom."

"We won't live like that." he promised. "I can change, please don't leave, mi amor."

"Let's go to therapy, please." You beg him. "I don't want to keep doing this, Pedri, please."

He dries your tears, hugging you and kissing your head. "I promise, we won't. Let me fix this."

It has been four months.

Four months where you two have been revisiting your relationship and fixing the small things that needed to be fixed.

You two went to a couples counseling every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Pedri's idea to do it.

He also went to therapy because he needed to find where this pattern was coming from. He needed to find the reason behind it and stop it.

You feel that the relationship was way better. You worked better as a pair. You even feel how those little things that you used to say were gone are now back.

You got the news of your father being transferred to Madrid. He was the head of the Barcelona company, and now they needed someone to take care of the new place. He accepted and asked you to move with your mother and him.

You declined the offer, wanting to keep your life in Barcelona, your studies, and your relationships.

He offered to pay you an apartment floor for you and to keep paying for everything lile he was already doing. You asked him to give you some time to think about what your options were and to take one.

Your best friend offered you to share his apartment. After all, you loved the neighborhood, and the people at the front desk already knew you.

You wanted to ask Pedri for advice. Wanting to have a second option before you make the final choice.

"More pasta?" He asks, getting up and walking to the kitchen to grab the bowl with the pasta.

"Just a little bit more."

"Why are you so lost?" He asks, kissing your head while he serves the food. "Everything's fine?"

"My family is moving to Madrid in two months." You confess, very straightforward. "And my dad is offering me an apartment to myself, or my bestie is offering me to be roommates."

"Okay." He laughs a little. "Tough decision."

"Yeah, because one is to live by myself or share a floor with someone I know since kinder garden."

He thinks for a moment, looking around his living room, you had a lot of things there. His closet has a special section just for you. His bathroom is half yours at this point.

"Don't freak out on me, but." He says, thinking. "What if you move in with me?"

Your eyes light up with his offer. That was his most sincere action, and he didn't even think too much into it. He was ready if you were.

"We been dating for a good time now, you crash this place all the time, you know my ways, and I know yours."

"But I don't want to bother you. This is your space."

"This can be our space." He grabs your hands. "Please, think about it. You have a key, you have a snack cabinet, you have half your belongings here."

"What if you don't feel comfortable after some time?"

"Amor." He laughs. "I won't be offering if I knew this would be something that can go wrong for us."

You look into his eyes. There were not an ounce of doubt, not even a little sprinkle.

"Please." He begs. "Let's make a pro and con list. You'll see this is a whole pro thing."

You let him do it. He runs to find paper and a marker to make the list. You laugh at how he manages to only add in the cons that he's messy (sometimes) and how he forgets to do the laundry.

"Por favor, amor." He kisses your cheeks. "Please, please, please think about it. We would be so happy together."

You smile, hugging him and thanking him for offering something that he wanted as much as you find hard to admit.

"I'll even ask your parents for permission." He kiss your lips. "Say yes." He begs one last time.

"Vale, yes. I want to." You say, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him deeply. "But you will a my dad."

"That would be like practicing for when I ask for your hand." He smiles. "Te amo, I'm so happy."

"Don't forget to pack your sunscreen. Your mother says.

You told her Pedri would be in Tenerife for the few free days they gave him, and that he invited you to go with him after your exams.

"I won't. It's already in here." You say, putting your stuff away. "Can you ask dad if he can drop me off, please? I don't want to Uber."

"We are not talking." She casually says.

You scuff. "What is he mad about this time? You breathing?"

"I put two spoons of sugar instead of three in his coffee."

You stayed quiet, your mother asked you before not to mind her and your father's fights. So, you didn't.

You feel bad for her. She didn't deserve the way he treats her just because he's crazy and incapable of managing his emotions.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You say softly. "Can you drop me off?"

She nods, helping you with your bag. You say goodbye to your dad. Who told you to call him when you landed.

The drive to the airport was weird. You want to give your opinion but at the same time you want to stay away from the drama.

"Thank you for dropping me off." You say as you get out of the car. "I'll call you and send you pictures. love you."

You text Pedri a picture of your window seat. He texted you back saying he wanted you to be there already.

You sleep the whole flight, tired of the hard week of tests and presentations you had. You craved some sun and the beach.

And there was no better place than his home. Tenerife is beautiful, he loves it and you love it too.

His parents were there, you loved his parents. They were so welcoming and so nice to you all the time.

You turn your data on again, seeing that Pedri texted you that he was waiting for you at the airport and was hiding with a bucket hat and some shades.

You hurry to get to where he is, laughing at how funny he looked. He pouts, hugging you hard. "Stop, look at what I do for you and how you treat me." He jokes, kissing your lips.

"I'm sorry, but you look so funny." You smile at how he does this funny face. "Let's go, I don't want people to notice you."

You walk hand in hand with him to his car. Finding Fer in the driver's seat.

"Hi, hermanita!" He says happily. "I missed you, mom and dad miss you too."

"Hola, Fer!" You take his hand from the back seat. "Miss you guys too. I'm happy to see you."

Pedri grabs your arm, pulling it lightly towards him to grab your hand. He kisses your palm many times.

"How were the exams?"

"The same as always, tiring and stressful."

"Are you winning it all?"

"Yeah, I'm not as dumb as you think I am." You say jokingly.

You two laugh, it was fresh to be able to joke about things that you two overcome and you find part of the past.

"Jo'er pero quien diría que tu eres tonta? Si tu eres de las personas más listas que conozco." Fer laughs, interrupting your laughs. (Who would say that you are dumb? You are one of the smartest people I know.)

"I'm joking, don't worry." You quickly say, the grip in your hand growing tighter. "How was the game? Sorry I didn't make it."

"It was good." He yawns

"Just good? Venga capullo, tell her how it was." Fer turns his body to us as he pulls into a red light. "You've been talking about how excited you are to see her, and you gave this dry ass answers." He laughs.

Pedri just smiles, not laughing or anything. "It was actually great, we won, and I assisted the goal Ferran scored."

"That's how many points?"

"Three, we are first right now, but I think if RMA wins the game they have today, they will be equal or one point down."

"You are way better than Real Madrid this season, I think the new trainer is doing a nice job."

He nods. Kissing your head. "How's your mom?"

You think about her, how she was home with your dad, and his stupid silent treatment. "She's fine, she says hi."

"I'm going to see her when we get back, I feel like it's been a long time no see, and it will be out last goodbye before the moving."

"Let me send her a picture of you, so she knows we are together." You point the camera at him. "Cheese!" He smiles, squishing your thigh as you take the picture.

The rest of the ride, Fer was telling you about how the restaurant was going, a project he has, things about life.

"I'm taking your bag. Go say hi to my mom. She was so excited to see you." He says, taking your bag and kissing you.

You walk inside and find Fer waiting for you at the entrance.

"Mom! Y/n's here." He shouts, taking you by the arm and walking straight into the kitchen.

"Hi, nena." Fernando says, hugging you. "We missed you, so glad you came to see us."

"I'm glad I'm here, thank you for letting me stay, Mister González."

"Don't thank me, you are always welcome here." He winks. "Rosy was here a minute ago, I don't know where she went, but in the meantime, what if we celebrate with a little bit of wine?"

You shake your head no, "I'm fine with just water, thank you." You say smiling. He served three glasses, one for Fer, one for Rosy, and one for himself.

"Look what the wind brings us." Rosy says, joking with you. "Hola, nena, we are so happy to have you here."

"I missed you guys, I'm happy to be here."

"We prepared something for tonight. It's on the oven, so you'll see it when the time comes." She smiles, passing an arm around you to walk you to the couch.

Pedri walks just in time for him to see the scene. He smiles wide at how much his parents love you.

"Do you want some wine?" His father asks him.

He shakes his head no, seating next to you on the couch. "Did you tell them?" He asks.

You shake your head no, feeling the blush from the news, Pedri was excited to tell his parents about your decision.

"No, you do it." You grab his hand.

His parents look at you two, all smiles and happy. "Okay, I'm telling them."

"Porfa no nos digan que estas de encargo, que me muero." Rosy says, making Pedri laugh loudly. (Please don't tell me you are expecting, I'll die)

"No, we are not having a child." You say, laughing with him.

"Not yet." Pedri whispers, kissing your cheek. "What we want you guys to know is that. Y/n's parents are moving to Madrid, her dad got transferred there."

"Oh no, you are leaving Barcelona?"

"That's the news, I asked her to move in with me." He says, looking at you, "and she said yes."

His parents stay silent.

They do love you, but they think it's a little bit sooner than they expected.

"I know it sounds crazy, and if you are not comfortable with that, we don't have to do it." You say, noticing their faces. "I told him I had the possibility of renting with a friend, that can still happen."

"It's not that we are not comfortable, it's just a little too soon, maybe?"

"I don't think it's soon." Pedri says, frowning. "And I'm not letting her rent when she can live with me."

"It's not about that, Pedri." His mom says. "But living together is a big step, and you two are young, that can make you or break you."

"It's not breaking us." He says defensive. "Didn't you two move in together because you got pregnant?" He asks.

He was getting defensive with his parents. That was not a good thing. You feel like the fight is part of your fault for not consulting with them and their opinion.

"I think," you interrupt their argument. "We can take advice from your parents. It's not like they are forbidding us to move in. They just have their opinion."

The way his eyes got black from anger when you say that made you rethink your words.

"Vale, I'm going out, I don't have the energy for this. " He says, getting up and walking out of the house.

You stayed quiet. You all did. His parents were surprised that he got that reaction. Fer was speechless about everything. Not even understanding what really happened.

It was like the old version of him, but you know that's not it, he changed and is now a better person.

He has his mad moments, and that's why he now chooses to walk out of the situation before it gets too heated.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I know we should have asked, but I really thought it was a good idea at the moment."

"Don't apologize." Rosy says. "I think we all need to just calm down and talk more calmly about this."

"I'm going to look for him." You smile at them. Walking outside of the house.

You and Pedri shared locations just in case. Never really used it before. But today you are thankful that you have it.

You notice him sitting on the sand, playing with it. "Can I sit?" You ask him. He rolls his eyes at you, turning his face.

You roll your eyes too, sitting next to him. He was drawing figures on the sand. He's trying to calm down his thoughts.

"What you told your parents was very disrespectful." You begin. "What they wanted to say was that we need to make sure we want to take this step and not fail in the process." You say to him. He keeps giving you this silent treatment. "Can you stop? Let's talk about it."

You gave him a few minutes, and he needed to think his words before speaking. It was all new to him. He didn't want to explote.

"You just told me you don't want to live with me after I literally beg you to move in. If you needed an excuse to tell me no just say that."

"I don't need an excuse, Pedri." You say, stern tone. "I do want to live with you, I told you that. But your parents are giving us advice that we need to take into consideration."

"Do you think this would break us?"

"No," you quickly answer. "I think this would be challenging, but we can do it."

"Then why you back them up?"

"Because we can use some advice." You hug him. "Plus, your parents would be very straightforward if they thought this was something we shouldn't have to do."

"That's true."

"So, I think this is something that they just want to make sure we are ready for." You grab his hand. "Are we ready for this?"

"I am." He says, sticking his forehead to yours. "Are you?"

"I am." You separate and kiss his forehead.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, sitting on the warm sand and enjoying the company that soon would become typical.

"You are right, let's go tell them we are ready for this." He kiss you, standing up and helping you stand up.

You laugh, walking back hand in hand with you. You love this new version of him, this secure version of him. This is a supportive version of him that you wont get tired of.

Him.

Simply him.

🌸🌸🌸

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl (Hi 🥹💕)

[navybrat817]

A Plum a Day

Pairing: Soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there. Word Count: Over 1.6k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, creepy vibes, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Intro for my Disturbia AU with Bucky and Plum! Also for Week 6 of Hot Bucky Summer for @buckybarnesevents . Theme - "How do you want me?". ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up to the taste of plums on your tongue. You didn’t become a fan of them until you were an adult. Sweet and tangy in flavor, large or small in size, the variety of colors, you appreciate them more now. It was fascinating to you that it was one of the first fruits that humans cultivated. Research showed that eating them even improved brain function and thinking.

Wait. Where am I?

You slowly opened your eyes with a barely audible groan. They ached as you blinked a few times, not recognizing the ceiling above your head. The feel of the mattress beneath you wasn’t right either. It was comfortable, but not yours. At least, you didn't think so.

Attempting to sit up didn’t do you any good when you realized there was an arm draped over your midsection. A metal one. You knew that it belonged to Bucky Barnes. He was your… Did you fall asleep in his bed? You couldn't remember how you got there.

Or why you were naked.

“Hey, Plum,” you heard to your left, his voice crystal clear. How long has he been awake? Tilting your head toward him, his blue eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you almost pulled the blanket over your head. He was undoubtedly one of the most handsome men you had ever seen, even more so with his messy bed hair. “You okay?”

No. Yes. I don’t know.

“What happened?” you asked, glancing around like it would give you some sort of clue as to what was going on.

“I think what happened is that I must’ve worn you out,” he teased, running a finger along your cheek to bring your attention back to him. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, like he was seeing you for the first time.

“Wore me out?” you asked, keeping your voice calm despite how quickly your heart began to race. “We had sex?”

The smirk he gave you didn’t soothe the panic that rose in your chest. “All night,” he confirmed. “Thank god these walls are thicker than your old apartment. You’re a screamer.”

He didn’t try to hide that he had slept with you, but you sure as hell didn’t remember saying “yes”. But you didn’t recall saying “no” either. Because you couldn’t put together how you even got to that point. The stickiness between your thighs was confirmation enough that he didn't use protection. What if he got you pregnant?

That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love Bucky Barnes. It would be an honor to have his children.

“I-I don’t remember that,” you explained when you brushed that thought away. “Was I drinking last night?”

He sat back with a chuckle, like he wasn’t quite sure if you were joking with him or not. “You had a couple of drinks, but you didn’t seem that out of it. You were eager to get back here after the ceremony, remember? Our new home?”

“Ceremony? I, um…” you swallowed, parched as you tried to find your words. “What do you mean our home?”

The Haven is paradise on earth.

You managed to stifle your gasp when you tried to think back on the last few days. The images in your mind were nothing but a blur of scattered pieces. The moment you tried to piece them together, they fell apart. Only a pair of steel blue eyes came through clearly.

Bucky’s eyes.

They only see me because he loves me.

“Plum, this isn’t funny. I know you were nervous to leave your apartment, but you were really excited to come here,” he said, a tinge of concern filling his eyes as he sat up. “You are joking with me, right?”

“Wasn’t I just engaged?” you asked, rubbing your temple.

I was engaged to a good man. He was going to give me the wonderful life I deserve. He loves me. Right?

He let out another nervous chuckle before his lips touched your forehead. It seemed both foreign and familiar, which you weren’t sure how that was possible. “Yeah, my beautiful sugar plum. To me,” he tried to smile as your brows furrowed. “And now we’re married.”

“Married,” you repeated, lifting your left hand. The diamond in the engagement ring seemed to catch your distorted reflection before you lifted your gaze a fraction higher to the wedding band.

I’m Mrs. Bucky Barnes. I’m the luckiest woman alive. I’ll be a good wife and fulfill my duties as fit.

“You must have had more fun than I thought yesterday,” he said, taking your hand to inspect the rings when you started trembling. “Forgetting our wedding and the wedding night.”

The hurt in his voice was evident when you turned your attention to the corner of the room. In the chair was a wedding dress and crinkled suit. You could only assume they belonged to the two of you.

“Steve was sorry he couldn’t make it, but he had that mission and we didn't want to wait. He’s excited for you and Cherry to finally meet,” he said with a hopeful grin.

Steve is Bucky’s best friend. They’re good men. They’re heroes.

Tears sprang to your eyes. You pride yourself on having a sharp memory and this was terrifying, to say the least. “I’m your wife,” you said, trying to sound confident and failing. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t remember any of that.”

But I know he’s my husband and we’re going to live a happy life in paradise.

“Did you hit your head?” Bucky asked, cupping your cheeks as he searched your face, your breathing a bit heavier. You didn’t think you hurt yourself, but maybe you had. Freaking out wouldn't do you any good. “I can get us a taping of the ceremony if you really can’t remember it?”

“The last thing I remember is my engagement,” you told him, a dull throb in your head as you shook it. Even then, you couldn’t recall Bucky dropping down on one knee to give you the ring. How did he ask you?

He chose me. The rest is history.

“Well, yeah. It does seem like yesterday that I asked you to marry me, but time flies when you're planning the rest of your life with the person you love,” Bucky said, the previous hurt in his voice gone as he kissed over your rings. “Are you okay?”

"M-My head hurts,” you said, wishing you could think properly. Why couldn’t you? And if it bothered you that much, why weren’t you making any attempt to get out of bed?

I have no reason to ever leave Bucky. He's the love of my life. We're soulmates.

"I know you didn’t drink that much, but I had a feeling you might have a small headache,” he said, grabbing a pill and water from the nightstand beside him. Instead of giving you the pill to take yourself, he gently placed it on your tongue and brought the water to your lips. The smile he gave you encouraged you to swallow. Because Bucky loves me and would never hurt me. "You just relax. We don't have to get out of bed today.”

Any protest in your mind fading away as each second passed. A slight warmth spread from your head to your toes as the pain faded. Instead of the sting like shards of glass in your head, it was like they melted away. You were floating, yet still on the ground. You would've thought he drugged you were you not perfectly functional. Alert, yet relaxed.

You weren't sure why you worried seconds ago.

I’m with Bucky. I’m happy. I’m home.

"That help at all?" he asked, running a hand along your arm to soothe you.

"Mmhmm. I feel much better."

Bucky loves me. He'll take care of me. He always will. And I'll do the same for him.

“I’m glad to hear that," he said.

"Me, too," you smiled, not wanting him to worry.

A good wife doesn't stress her husband out.

"Kiss me," he whispered.

You leaned up and brushed your lips against his, letting him take the lead as he met you halfway. He kissed you with his full being, like there was nothing he would rather do. His movements were confident and sure, making you feel beautiful and cherished as you held onto him for support.

He tastes like plums.

"Now, why don’t we have a repeat of our wedding night since your memory seems to be a little fuzzy, hmm? I gotta make sure my wife remembers who owns this perfect pussy,” he suggested as he pulled away, a darkness in his eyes that you ignored when he pushed the blanket down to the edge of the bed. “Unless you’d rather rest.”

There was no hesitation or worry as you smiled at him, reaching up to run a hand through his dark hair as he settled between your legs. You wanted to feel that scruff burn your thighs. “How do you want me?”

“Just like this. I need a taste before I ruin you again with my cock,” he answered as he pushed your thighs open a bit further. “You know what they say? A plum a day…”

“That’s an apple a day,” you giggled.

“No, it’s a plum a day. My plum. The only one I need,” he said as he tilted his head. “And I’m all you need, right?”

“Of course,” you promised, the smile on your face not completely your own, but it didn’t bother you in the slightest. “Only you, Bucky.”

Home is where Bucky is.

Forever.

Um. Happily ever after? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[oneforthemunny]

rabbit food |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: after a run in with your ex, eddie has to let you know that you're all his. you're more than happy to let him.

haven't done older!eddie in a sec! and inspiration struck last night so here it is :) older!eddie and his lil bunny.

thank you @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the edit <3

contains: 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap established relationship, eddie is 42 and reader is 26, protective!eddie, jealous!eddie, language, filthy filth to follow, fem receiving, ass play, anal sex, aftercare

The coffee shop was bustling, quite the crowd for a Thursday afternoon, but you supposed with finals and midterms coming up that was to be expected. Brielle had been on edge all week, her and Madeline crammed up in the house, pouring over books and notes. She'd been extra snappy lately with the stress, her and Eddie getting into a number of tiffs throughout the week, leaving you and Madeline to stand and awkwardly watch. You supposed you should've been used to it by now, you'd been around long enough, but you still didn't want to overstep when he was being a dad.

That was exactly why you  chose to have your date at the coffee shop. You'd quit a little over six months ago, not needing the extra work to busy yourself as much. You still liked to come and support the small business that treated you so kindly. It had history with you and Eddie too, after all.

You could hear the cheery sound of your name being called from across the cafe, smiling when you turned over you shoulder, expecting to be greeted with an old coworker.

"Hey," There he stood. Billy. Your ex-boyfriend.

Your blood ran cold, spine going rigid watching in slow motion when he crossed the space towards you. The same cocky grin, eyes narrowed and running over your frame predatory.

Your mouth ran dry when he stood in front of you, wrapping you in a hug that you didn't return. You could see he'd gotten new tattoos added to his forearms since your split, his hair cut shorter now, but he was still the same.

"What are you doin' here?" Billy asked, tongue running over his lower lip. "Came here last week and Theresa said you didn't work here anymore. Was she lyin' to me again?" He grinned, teeth baring.

You pursed your lips. "No, I don't work here anymore."

Billy nodded. "Good for you. Must be doin' better at the school now then, huh? Did they finally give you that raise you were always bitchin' about?" He bobbled his head like he was joking, but you knew by the way his lips snarled, curling at the edges he was serious. Always having to take a shot at you, put you down and leave you a little wounded.

You hummed, unimpressed. "Wow," You sneered, eyes rolling. "Anyways, it's been so great seeing you, but I'm meeting someone-"

"Yeah? Is it your friend, Nicole? Saw her and Marcus broke up. Think you could help me out?" Billy crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you.

You scoffed, eyes bulging. "Nicole? Please, Billy, she hates you." You rolled your eyes hard.

Billy shrugged. "She doesn't know me. I'm sure I could change her mind." He said cockily. "I mean, I know you told her what a shit guy I was, but you certainly stuck around long enough. Must’ve been for a reason, hmm?”

Your blood ran cold, heart stopping. You could feel the familiar heat creep up your chest to your cheeks, embarrassment. You hoped he couldn't see how he'd made you feel, you didn't want him to have that over you. Judging by his smirk, arrogant and triumphant, he did.

"C'mon, you love to say what a shit guy I was, but you stayed around way longer than I thought you would." Billy took a step closer, you took one back. The dance all too familiar. Your back pressed against the table, trapped, pinned under his menacing gaze.

"Must've stayed around for something." He scoffed down at you, mocking you.

You stammered, heart hammering and mind racing. You were caught off guard, surprised. Billy inched closer, eyes narrowing even more. He opened his mouth to deliver the final blow, the final line that would break you into submission, leave you insecure and nervous like he always did.

"Hey, bunny," Eddie's voice called.

Your gaze snapped from Billy over his shoulder, seeing Eddie standing there, coveralls and a questioning glare. Seeing you ridged posture, helpless eyes cutting to his- he was stepping forward in an instance, heavy boots stomping against the ground.

"There a problem?" Eddie asked, gruff and mean, eyes locked with Billy.

Billy looked from Eddie back to you, brows knit in confusion. "Is this... You know this guy?" Billy asked, thumb hiking over his shoulder at Eddie.

Eddie scoffed, moving to wedge himself in front of you, hand on Billy's shoulder firm, pushing him back slightly. "You wanna tell me what's goin' on here, baby?" Eddie asked you, but his eyes never left Billy's standing toe-to-toe in front of him, you pressed securely behind him. "This a little friend of yours?"

Billy scoffed. "Look, man, we were talking, alright-"

"-No, not alright." Eddie's jaw set, grinding teeth in an unimpressed stare. "I think you need to leave."

You watched, eyes wide and rounded, flickering from Eddie back to Billy. Your heart hammered in your chest.

"Yeah? You gonna make me or something?" Billy scoffed. "What? Are you a friend of her dad's?"

Eddie laughed, humorless and mocking. "I think you know who I am." He sneered. Billy swallowed, faltering slightly. "Think you should get outta here. Before we have an issue."

Billy stammered, scoffing slightly. "What issue?" He rolled his eyes. Eddie's fists balled, and you grabbed his arm gently, pulling him closer. Billy took a step back, eyes wide. He tried to play it off, shaking his head. "Whatever, man. Don’t worry about me, alright? I’ve had it and don’t want it back. She’s all yours." He scoffed loudly.

Eddie lurched forward, a loud, stomping boot. "Ed, no, just..." You grabbed his arm gently, grinning softly at the way Billy jumped slightly, head spinning around with wide eyes before quickly leaving the shop.

"He touch you?" Eddie asked, eyes narrowed and serious when he turned back to you. "Tell me right now. I'll go out there, and fucking drag that-"

"-Eddie." You cooed softly, eyes darting around to the patrons that watched you, wide eyed and amused. "Maybe we should go." You whispered.

Eddie sighed heavily. "I'm sorry." He muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I shouldn't have done that. I just-"

"It's alright." You reassured him with a soft smile, chewing on your lip slowly. Seeing him so protective, rough, it made your tummy flip, heat spilling and filling every inch of you. It was a new side of Eddie, one you hadn't seen. It was exciting, thrilling.

You ordered to go, letting him drive you back to your own apartment. His knee bounced, white knuckled grip on his steering wheel. You knew he was fuming, buzzing and bristling with anger, the scenario running over and over again in his head. Your thighs pressed together watching him take a drag of his cigarette, shaking his head.

"Should've beat the shit outta that little prick." Eddie exhaled out the cracked window. "Fucker had the audacity to try and go near you. The fuck does he think he is?"

You grinned softly, leaning over, pressing your palm lightly on his thigh. "He's a dick." You purred low in his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple, lips buried into the flecks of grey hairs that framed his face. "You scared him."

Eddie scoffed. "Little bitch. What a shock. All talk." He rolled his eyes. "Dealt with stupid fuckers like that my whole life."

"Well, you scared him away." You grinned, eyes lighting up with excitement. "My hero. What would I do without you?" You muttered, lips trailing down his temples, dragging slow and sweet down his cheek over his scruff of facial hair. Your hand trailed higher up his thigh, squeezing the skin beneath the thick, navy coveralls.

Eddie looked over at you, brows pulled together accentuating the deep lines on his forehead. He watched you carefully, pupils blown, lip tucked between your teeth, the small flush across your cheeks. He knew that look all too well.

"I don't find this nearly as amusing as you do." Eddie huffed, pouty and grumpy. "S'not funny at all. Him thinking he can talk to you like that."

You giggled. "Eddie, I don't think it's funny. I'm being serious. I appreciate you doing that for me. Billy's a dick." You sighed, giving him a knowing look.

Eddie scoffed. "Yeah, he is." He muttered. "Why'd you ever date a guy like that?"

You shrugged. "He could be nice sometimes."

"When? When he was trying to fuck you?" Eddie snapped, knuckles tightening over the leather steering wheel. "That why you were with him?"

You gawked, scoffing playfully at his remark. "Seriously?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. Eddie's jaw tightened. "Are you jealous or something?" You giggled.

Eddie huffed. "Not funny." He muttered, petulantly. "'M not jealous. Just trying to understand what would attract you to a piece of shit like that."

"I was young." You sighed heavily. Eddie's eyes flickered over to you, accusing. You faltered. "Alright, younger. And I thought he was cool, but he wasn't. He was a bum."

Eddie pulled into your apartment, turning the wheel to fit into the spot. "A total bum." He agreed, throwing the car in park and yanking his keys out. "Should be ashamed of yourself for dating someone like that, young lady." He gave you a stern look.

Your pussy throbbed, legs clamping together. You were sure you were soaking his seat.

Eddie opened his door and you followed, starry eyed and wobbly legged, excitement trilling and building deep in your belly. Eddie pressed you up against the door, dark eyed, nose pressing to yours. His hands, still stained and calloused from a day's work, pressed by your head, trapping you underneath him.

"Tell me, bunny, was he better than me?" Eddie asked, nearly a snarl on his lips.

Your heart thumped excitedly in your chest, spine tinging with familiar warmth that made you shudder. You shook your head firmly, eyes still locked with Eddie's. "No." You rasped.

Eddie cocked his head to the side. "Don't lie to me, baby." He warned. This was new, a darker, domineering side of Eddie you'd never seen before, possessive and exciting. It made you throb, knees buckling.

"I'm not." You whispered back. "I promise. You're the best I've ever had, and I mean that." You looked down for his lips, back up to his eyes, rounding sweetly for him. "Billy could barely make me cum."

Eddie snorted, faltering out of his demeanor. You grinned lightly. "I mean it. I really though that people lied about getting off from someone eating you out. Thought that was just something in porn." You admitted sweetly, tilting your head to the side.

Eddie barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, bunny, that is horrible." He cooed, fingers tucking under your chin, lifting your gaze up to him.

You shrugged. "Then I met you." Your eyes shined at the admission, gooey and warm under his gaze. He was melting you, making you feel so consumed with adoration. "Now I know better."

Eddie hummed, nodding slowly. "You better," He muttered, tilting his head so his lips slotted over yours, passionate and controlling, pressing you farther against the cool wood of your door.

You moaned into the kiss, letting him take over, tongue sliding over yours, swirling and exploring every square inch of your mouth. Your hand moving down to his waist, pulling him flush to you. You could feel his erection, hard and straining even against the thick material of the coveralls.

Eddie flipped you over, pressing you against the wall, hands on your hips. He kneeled slow, pushing your leggings down with him, pooling down by your ankles. You knew to spread your legs before he even asked, feeling your arousal seep out of you, spreading and coating your inner thighs.

Eddie groaned slightly, hands spreading your cheeks apart, salivating at your puffy lips peeking back at him, your tight, little hole taunting him. You looked delicious, positively edible, he was sure of it.

"Fuck, baby," Eddie rasped. "Lean forward for me a little bit. Let me get a better look." His hands were squeezing the fat of your ass, rolling and massaging the plump skin.

You pressed your body forward, shimmying back until your ass was nearly in his nose. Eddie breathed deeply, burying himself inside you before he devoured you, no warning, tongue lapping from your clit to your sopping hole back up to your ass. You whined, knees buckling at the surprise sensation.

His fingers went from your pussy, collecting your spend, spreading it over your tightest hole. You groaned loudly, eyes rolling and head tipping back at the sensation of his thumb circling your hole.

"Fuck, Ed, that feels so good." You whined, forehead resting on the wood.

"Bet that fucker never did this, did he?" Eddie growled, spitting a glob of saliva back down on your ass hole. You whined, high and nasally, feeling his pointer finger spread it around before the tip barely pressed in, just to the first knuckle and you were pushing back for more.

Eddie grinned. "Huh? Bet he never did this? Never ate this pretty little ass, did he?" He growled again. You shook your head, legs quaking at the sensation. Eddie smirked. "Scared little boy, pathetic. Doesn't know what to do with a woman like you. Doesn't know how to treat you."

His finger sunk in further, the second knuckle and you were moaning loud, cries and whines echoing off the door. You were overwhelmed with sensation, one finger plugging you from the back, pumping slowly in and out making you clench. His thumb working lazy circles on your clit, slow and steady how you liked it.

You didn't tell him that Billy or anyone in the past never took the time to ask you, to learn your body and the things you liked. They were only looking to chase their own pleasure, rubbing your left lip for five minutes while they jackhammered you, leaving you feeling used and unsatisfied. Convincing you there was something wrong with you for not finishing, never them. Then you met Eddie, and you never had that problem again.

You whined, rocking to draw his finger in tighter in you. His thumb kept working you slowly, the heat in your belly growing more and more, shooting electric spikes of heat up your spine, toes curling sensation.

"'M close, fuck, 'm close!" You chanted, head bowing down to look at your toes. You could see Eddie beneath you, the flex of his hands working on you.

Eddie's scruff pressed to your lower back, soft kisses against the curve of your spine, finger pulling back to catch your release and press it back into your ass again, a second finger starting in.

"Close already?" Eddie cooed, mocking and sweet. You could see his grin in the back of your mind, smug and dimpled.

You whined, hips rocking when the two fingers pressed forward. The stretch of your tight hold, invading and dipping further into you. You felt filthy for how much you loved the sensation of him in your ass.

Eddie pressed further into your clit, fingers rocking and swirling lightly in your ass until you cried out, clenching hard around him. Your cunt clamped around nothing, nails digging into the wood of your door as you rode your high, loud and unforgiving; neighbors be damned, he was making you feel too good.

Eddie watched your chest heave, two knuckles deep in your ass, the other dipping into your sensitive, sopping hole. You whined when he stood, fingers spreading wide, your sticky release stringing along them. You blushed, cheek pressed against the wall.

Eddie moved so he could see you, brow raised, his soaked hand in front of both of you. "He never made you do this?" Eddie asked. You shuddered, glazed eyes trained on the release.

You shook your head truthfully. Eddie sighed, examining the release. "A damn shame." He muttered, bringing your release to his lips. He sucked them off gently, eyes trained on yours.

A small whine caught in your throat, shaky legs trembling as you watched him. Eddie pulled his cleaned fingers out of his mouth, grinning at you. "Doesn't even know he's missing out on the sweetest damn thing in the world."

You blushed hard, smiling softly back at him. Eddie moved, body pressing back over yours, but his hands cradled your jaw this time, pulling you closer and closer into him. Lips found yours again, sweeter this time, taking his time to feel your soft lips against his. You could taste your own release on his tongue, a groan pulling out of your throat, vibrations tickling his lips that were still roaming your mouth.

Eddie pulled back, a string of saliva connecting from your mouth to his. "See?" He grinned. "Sweetest damn thing out there."

You let him bend you over the couch, pushing into your ass easily, using your own sticky, wet release as lube. Your eyes shut at the stretch, Eddie's hands soft and comforting on your back, shushing you with every inch that he sunk deeper into you.

He fucked you nice and slow, letting you adjust to the feeling. No matter how frequent you both fucked like this, he wanted you to be comfortable, gentle with you and caring. It made your chest fill with warmth, hips rocking back to meet his slow thrusts.

Eddie groaned at the squeeze of your tightest hole around his cock, strangling it in the best way. He was sure he wouldn't last long, not with the way you were reaching back between your legs, cupping his balls lightly.

"You're just my best girl, aren't ya, bunny?" Eddie groaned, eyes blown and focused on the stretch of your ass around his dick. The way your cheeks rippled and hips jumped when his hips met yours.

You whimpered in response, your own hand reaching to rub your clit furiously when his pace picked up, hips rolling and pressing into you so deep you knew he was lodged deep in your guts. He usually liked to fuck you on your back so he could see himself through your tummy, pressing a hand over it or sometimes yours.

You could feel that familiar rush, blinding hot pleasure with every brush of his cock in that sensitive spot inside you. How he managed to find every nook and cranny that made you gush, you weren't sure. He was just good like that, wanted to be good like that for you.

You rubbed your clit faster, toes curling as you climbed closer. Eddie leaned forward, back folding on top of yours. He pressed a kiss into your neck, sucking and nipping gently. His own hand moved underneath you, replacing your hand, fingers sliding and rubbing over all the places you needed them to.

"Oh!" You cried out at the sensation. His teeth nipping into your skin, leaving you clenching. "Again, do it again." You panted, bouncing and rocking back to help him rut into you further, faster.

Eddie obliged, tongue rolling over the sensitive skin in the nape of your neck, sucking slow and calculated, teeth grazing until you cried out. He felt your shake, collapsing into the couch, his hand circling your waist, still working your clit while you rode out your orgasm.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer with every thrust, dick twitching until he was spilling deep inside you, hips stuttering and breath catching with every slow thrust he spilled into you.

You were spacey, glass eyed and fucked out from the sensation. You could barely register the kisses he placed down your spine, muttering as he pulled himself from you.

Eddie's chest heaved, catching his breath. He was trained on his release spilling out of you, down your slick, puffy folds and dripping towards the carpet. "Fuck, bunny," Eddie pressed a hand to his forehead. "So good. You did so good, didn't you?"

He cleaned you up. He always did that. So sweet and gentle and attentive, even if he was exhausted too. Eddie took his time cleaning you gently, soft pets and gentle coos that soothed you as you came back down, came back to him.

Eddie had you pressed against his chest, curled up in his lap. He had his cigarette lit, slow drags as the embers cracked. His other hand ran up and down your back.

"That fucker ever comes around you again, you let me know." Eddie's eyes were half lidded, a little dark but serious.

You smiled softly, nuzzling deeper into his chest. "I will." You muttered, mind still foggy. "Don't worry about him. He doesn't ever compare to you."

Eddie snorted. "Good." He grinned, blowing smoke in the other direction.

You pressed your chin to his chest, right over the smattering of inked letters on his heart- Brielle and his mom's names and birthdays; you wondered if you'd ever be there too. Eddie looked down at you, soft smile tugging on his lips.

"What about me?" You asked slowly. Eddie raised a brow. "Am I the best you've ever had?" You raised your brows.

Eddie smirked, bumming his cigarette in the tray next to him. He shifted with a slight groan, leaning down so his nose was brushing yours. You could smell the nicotine on his breath, ghosting over your lips when he talked. "Bunny, you're the best I've ever had. Whole different league, whole different ballgame. On another level from anyone else. Incomparable." He said, small grin on his lips but you knew his words were genuine.

You perked up, beaming with pride. You lifted so your nose pressed against his, feeling your breath mix with his, hot on your top lip. "Promise?" You whispered.

"Promise." Eddie moved so his lips ghosted over yours. "My best girl, I promise. No one compares, bunny. Not even close."

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

I Don’t Want You To Go - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 1040>

You didn't know. Well, you knew, but you didn't want to admit that you knew. It had been bubbling away for a while, but you didn't think it would actually happen. But now, sitting there, scrolling through your phone, learning at the same time as the rest of the world, your heart broke and bled scarlet.

You couldn't decide whether you wanted to laugh or cry. It was all some sick joke, but it felt like April 1st couldn't come quick enough. You read it over and over until the words made no sense and formed into a hazy cloud before your eyes.

Reading Carlos' statement was the hard part. That was the part that broke you. It made the whole situation feel a whole lot more real. You were sitting on the edge between pure fury, and uncontrollable sadness, and you couldn't fathom which you were going to topple into.

You wouldn't be where you were without Carlos, you owed everything you had to him. You wouldn't have your dream job if it weren't for him. He had recommended you way back when, in his first year at Ferrari, and the rest was history.

But now you were getting through the final chapters of your story together, and yours would have to continue on like the unloved sequel that was written for a quick cash grab. Like a cheap jab at the continuation of a character who had died off in the first book.

Messages from people flooded in, the notifications barraging the top of your phone. They all asked if you knew. It was an interesting question, wasn't it? If you knew. If you knew. If only you knew. Would it have made this easier? No.

The pain would have gone on for longer.

You shoved your phone under one of the cushions on your couch, not wanting to even see the notifications pop up on screen combined with Carlos' and Ferrari's points. It didn't bring the same joy anymore.

You'd have to go into work the next day as well. See everyone, see all the memories you had made in the form of the Maranello factory and count down the days until there'd be no more memories to be had.

Sleeping was impossible. Completely unfathomable. Absolutely undoable. You just wanted your bed to swallow you up, engulf you in the duvets then keep you there for the rest of eternity. Maybe it'd take the agony away as well. He wasn't even gone yet, but it still hurt.

Walking into the factory the next day was one of the hardest things you would ever have to do. You kept your eyes down at your feet, trying to distract yourself with work. Everyone knew you would be hurt the most by this, since they knew how close the two of you were. It was obvious.

"Can we talk?" a voice snapped you out of your daze as the voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Not right now," you whispered, trying to make yourself seem busy so that he'd go away. But he knew you better than that, and you knew he was stubborn.

"Please," he added, staring holes into the side of your face. You stood from your desk, unable to bring yourself to look at him. He walked in front of you, the prancing horse still rearing proud on his back, but, in your eyes at least, it didn't carry the same scuderia spark that it used to.

He led you into an empty conference room, and the air felt thick with discomfort. "You're really leaving?" you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. You hadn't said it outloud yet, and you felt like you were going to be sick.

"I don't have a choice," he replied, trying to will you with his mind to look at him, but you weren't taking the hint. You didn't want to cry.

"I don't want you to go, Carlos," you mumbled, your voice breaking as you screwed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop yourself from crying. But the tears were strong willed as they trickled down your cheeks.

"I don't want to go either, but hey, you still have me for the whole of this season and you'll still see me around all the time after," he tried to comfort you, also fighting back the tears. He never wanted anyone to be upset by this, but it was inevitable.

"That's not enough... it's just not enough..." you said, slowly moving closer to him. No amount of time with him there would have been enough, but now you knew the clock was ticking, it felt like the hands were moving all too fast.

"C'mere," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you as you buried your head into his chest. Your tears left darkened red stains, but that didn't matter in the slightest. "It's going to be OK, it's OK," he soothed, when he was really the one in need of comfort.

Keeping one arm wrapped around your waist, the other gently stroking your hair. But instead of the comforting gesture it normally was, it felt more like an unspoken apology. "It wasn't my decision," he said.

"I know," you nodded, clinging onto him for dear life. It felt like you'd blink and he'd disappear from in front of you. "You're so good Carlos, so goddamn good," you rambled, your attempts at reassuring him falling flat in your opinion.

Carlos appreciated the effort nonetheless. "I'll miss you..." you carried on, but he didn't reply. Replying would mean having to fully accept that it was over, and that he was going to be leaving at the end of the season.

He was never one for living in the present and not thinking about the future, but now was the time he wouldn't take a second for granted, and he'd work his damn socks off to make this season phenomenal. For himself, for Ferrari, for the fans.

You were showing no signs of letting go, and you wanted to hold onto him until the world crumbled out from underneath your feet. The curtains would soon be closing on Carlos' time at Ferrari, and you'd stand at the end, waiting for the encore.

A/N - I already said this earlier today, but I figured it’d be more appreciated on the end of this. ‘65 years ago today, 3 music legends died in a plane crash. That was regarded as the day the music died. For me, that was 2 days ago. I am so devastated it’s not even a joke at this point. Forza Ferrari, or whatever.’

It just doesn’t quite feel real, does it? I knew Carlos wouldn’t be able to stay forever, but I thought there’d be some sort of extension. Not Hamilton going to Ferrari. Fuming.

|masterlist|

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Hi.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson leaves you to wash up the porcelain. You sigh in relief at having space to breathe. You can't decide if he's testing you. You suspect this might be him keeping an eye on you, just as he had before. Still waiting for you to mess up irrevocably. 

Thursdays entail a tidy of the second floor. With the carpenter in and the unexpected distraction, your schedule is delayed. You begin your canvas of the upper floor, dragging broom and vacuum along as you go through every room.

You stop before the study and knock. There's no answer. You try again and rap on the wood. Again, nothing. You enter and find it empty.

You wipe down the surfaces, dusting and shaking out the curtains before you run over the carpet and drapes with the vacuum hose. You proceed into the library but there isn't much to do there. You stop as you find your bag waiting in the chair behind the writing desk. You can't recall bringing it up but you must have.

You finish up and ease the door shut as you return to the hall. You hear a low drone, only realising it's a voice as you open the half-bath on the other side. You try not to overhear as Laufeyson's words grow clearer the closer you get. You hide in the bathroom, collecting the towels to replace. You put then in the hall and go down to the linen closet.

"Yes, tomorrow," his insistence pierces through, "I know, I know, we will talk. I... I'm sorry for all that."

He's quiet and you take that as your cue to retreat. You shouldn't be listening. You hang the fresh towels and gather the used ones to take down to the laundry room. As you come back up, Mr. Laufeyson emerges from his room, no jacket over his pressed button-up, as he rolls his sleeves to his elbows. His eyes flit up as you tiptoe along the hall and he nods as you pass.

"Have you gotten to the study?" He asks.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Great, I will require privacy," he states.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you take the broom from against the wall and roll the vacuum towards his room, you pause before you can get there. 

There's a click in his throat as his gaze shrouds you, "don't worry, you will have no unseemly scenes from me, today."

The allusion to your unfortunate foray under the bed sets your cheeks alight. You wince and reach for the handle, biting down on your tongue. You push through slowly and set the broom inside. As you turn back, he remains just outside his study.

"A joke," he assures as he presses the door inward, "or an attempt."

He shrugs and disappears. You suck in your cheeks and think. Is he being nice or is he mocking you? You wish he would go back to be the stoic, strict man with the cold words. You're used to spite and while you long for warmth, you're comforted by the familiar.

Too much thinking, you rebuke yourself. Just get on with it.

🧹

Just after noon, you decide to take your break early. You usually wait until at least one but moving and bending and sweeping has left you lightheaded.

You go downstairs and refill your water bottle. You find your way to patio, the sunlight forming rings in your vision. You see the untouched pitcher, the ice melted and the water no doubt warm.

You leave your bottle and take the pitcher. You refresh it and come back out to footfalls on the steps. You look up as Ronan climbs onto the patio, a sheen of sweat across his face and arms, dampening the chest of his shirt and the edges of his sleeves. You smile as you set down the cold water.

"Just topping up," you say.

"Great timing," he sets down the lunch bag in his left hand, resting his other on the back of an iron chair, "do you mind?"

"Uh, no," you look at your water bottle, "actually, I could just go inside--"

"Wouldn't mind the company," he pulls out the chair and sits, "solitary work, I was chatting with the birds."

"Oh," your cheeks pinch.

He laughs at himself, "not really but I was tempted."

He tugs back the zipper and flips up the top of the bag. You lower yourself into a chair and play with the cap of the water bottle. You flip the nozzle up and down, watching the sparrows chirping wildly in the vines.

"Nice day," he remarks, "glad I get to work in the shade though."

"Hm, yeah, it must be nice to work outside," you agree and turn the water bottle nervously. You don't want to be rude and run off but you were looking forward to a quiet moment alone.

He pours himself a glass of water as you chew your lip. You stare off at the green expanse and lean your elbows on the table, still clutching the bottle tightly. As the silence settles, a rumble erupts from your stomach, squeezing your insides painfully. You look down meekly and lean back, drawing your arms back to fold your hands in your lap. You hope he didn't hear it too.

"You know," he says as he rustles a wrapper, "I've been known to pack too much." He takes half the sandwich and slides the other towards you, "wanna help me out?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't--" your stomach roars as if trying to drown you out.

"Really, I can't eat it all myself. Working out in the sun, I'll make myself sick."

"I'm okay, that's really nice of you--"

"I'd hate for it to go to waste," he insists, "you don't like ham and cheese?"

"No, I-- I don't mind it but..." you rub your arm, once more pressing on the bruise hidden under your sleeve, "that's... lovely, thank you."

You sit forward, not wanting to argue. Besides, you are starving. Your head is starting to pound and your stomach is knotting around itself. You accept the sandwich and carefully lift it up, nibbling on the corner.

"I brought some nuts, you think that chipmunk would like some?" He muses.

You can't help but smile, "probably."

"He doesn't really like me. I don't think I've ever heard one of those things growl before," he reaches in the bag and takes out a small container, "maybe you could try."

"Oh, uh..." you blink down at the plastic, "I guess... I mostly work inside."

"Ah, yes, it is a very nice house," he comments as he peers over at the brick, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stares then squares his shoulders and refocuses on you, "and your boss... he keeps you inside?"

"Well, no, I uh, I just... have stuff to do," you take another small bite.

"Mmm," he hums, "he keeps you busy."

You nod and shrug. The work can't be as hard as his. You don't think you could aim a hammer.

"Don't worry, I know his type. Up in their castles, they hate to brush shoulders with anyone outside their court," he scoffs, "you're a strong woman for putting up with it."

"I... he isn't...I'm not..." you don't know what to say without flat-out lying. Mr. Laufeyson might not be very amiable but he is still your boss. "It's just a job."

His eyes drift against and his thick brows twitch. He slowly raises the sandwich and takes and bite, the tension slowly leaving his posture. You glance back as a trickle runs down your spine. 

You peek up to where his eyes had lingered. The curtains seem to flutter but it's too far away to tell for sure. You face the table again and gulp down the layers of bread, lettuce, and meat.

Ronan isn't so bad. It'll be nice to have someone else around for a while. Especially, someone who doesn't reprimand your every breath.

🧹

The end of the day nears and you look over your list. You've caught up on a few things planned for tomorrow even. You want to be able to catch up after whatever Mr. Laufeyson has planned. He'll be expecting as much.

You'll stay until Ronan is done for the day but in the meantime, you have a few last hanging threads to tie off. You go to the door to the study and knock. Almost as soon as your knuckles tap, a response sounds, “come in.”

You obey and twist the handle. Mr. Laufeyson sits and examines what appears to be a scroll, diligently polishing the brass ends with a cloth.  You don't question him, you know better than that. Even so, you are curious.

“Um, Mr. Laufeyson, there are few notes I got from the carpenter–”

“Ah,” his brows rise as his eyes flick towards you. His hand stills as he keeps a slight bend in his neck, “Roman, was it?”

“Ronan, I think, uh,” you hover around the other side of his desk, “he has a few suggestions here. If you'd like to review–”

“Suggestions?” He tilts his head.

You take the prompt and look at the page, “um, okay, he recommends replacing the whole floor of the gazebo as the wood is rotting around the broken pieces and the moss has compromised the integrity.”

“Do it,” he sighs and sets the scroll down as he sits up completely.

“And the pillars, if he does just the one, it won't match the rest…”

“Tell me, does he do tear down? I'm starting to think we may as well be rid of the damned thing.”

“I could ask,” you frown.

“I was being facetious,” he sniffs, “though I'm sure you're all too eager to have another chat with that man.”

“Hmmm?” Your crinkle your brow.

“Did you enjoy your lunch?” He wonders.

You blanch. Had he seen that? And by what chance? Was it him stirring by the curtains?

“The sun was nice,” you say, “I wasn't out very long.”

“No, no, you should have breaks,” he says, “you work very hard, don't you?”

You blink. Is he saying something between the lines?

“I'll have my lunch in the kitchen tomorrow–”

“I am not trying to confine you,” he interjects brusquely, “you act as if I am a dictator. I never said you can't have a break. Nor did I say you shouldn't enjoy the sunshine–” he huffs and shows his palm in exasperation, “we are not arguing, alright? I am conversing with you.” He puts his hand down as it forms a fist, “I am simply checking in.”

You stare at him blankly. Your nerves swirl as you fidget. You can't stand this. The words being left unsaid as he pretends. Your heart pumps behind your ears as you feel it all spilling over.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” your voice quivers, “about yesterday…”

“Yesterday? Why, that was your personal day,” he says coyly.

“Look, uh, I know you heard… some things and I just wanna clear it up. It was nothing.”

“I don't know what you mean,” he squints, “it was only dead air. A misdial, I assume–”

“Then why–” you stop yourself and shake your head. “Nevermind.”

“Go on,” he urges, “why…”

You look away and rock. You've gone too far. You should know to just shut up.

“Why are you being so… nice?” You eke out as you dare to glance at him.

His irises flash like glittering emeralds. He slowly reclines and plants his elbow on the armrest and brings his fingers to his chin. He gives a thoughtful hum.

“I'm not nice?” He asks.

“Well, no, I didn't mean--f-forget I said anything,” you clasp your hands behind your back. “It's only…” you sputter and search for a way back but you can only go forward, “you made me tea.”

His eyes flit to the ceiling and back to you, “I did.”

“Why?” You ask.

“It's tea,” he throws his hands up and reclines against the chair, “just tea.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoes tritely, “what else would it be?”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I shouldn't have said anything.”

“If you didn't like the tea, you could just say,” he continues, further throwing you off.

“It was good, I just…” you tug at your cuffs, “may I go?”

“Go?”

“The carpenter is leaving and it's almost five–”

“Yes, go see him off,” he snips, “and run along.” He scowls and taps his fingers on the desk in agitation, “as well, to show how nice I can be, I will allow you to sleep in tomorrow. I will not require you until noon.”

“Noon, yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Mm,” he grumbles and spins his chair away from you.

You shrink down and drag your feet across the room. You don't know why you asked. Why did you blurt all that out? You're so dumb. You should just have taken it for what it was and kept quiet.

[elizais]

okok may i request headcanons/drabbles on bsd boys (pref dazai, chuuya, jouno, tecchou, fyodor, tachihara, sigma, nikolai??) with a gf who has glasses but is almost blind without them? like velma in scooby doo, she needs her glasses and panics when she fr can't find them? thank you so much with glitters and sparkles!!

ofc! i'll split this into 2/3 parts though for the boys u asked for if any1 wants more!!

when their gf needs glasses (and they get lost)

like the request!! drabbles for each. featuring: dazai, chuuya, fyodor!! more parts will come warnings: dazai being a shit (lovingly),, drabbles dividers by @cafekitsune мышь = mouse (google translate so idk)

"osamu?" she called out, concern slightly tinting her voice. "yes, bella? everything alright?" he responded, on the other side of the bathroom door.

"yes, well, no but-" she stumbled over her words, opening the door as she was covered in a fluffy towel. he waited for her to catch her breath, knowing what she was missing. taking in a deep breath, "i can't find my glasses."

she didn't tend to lose her glasses, only taking them off for sleeping, showering and getting changed. very rarely having any other reason to do so. osamu chuckled at her, squinting her eyes to make out his facial expression. "have you seen them?" she asked him, walking towards her bedroom to put on clothes.

"i'll look now, dear." he smiled, knowing he placed them on a shelf she cannot reach. in his defence, he wanted her to ask him for help! she was so self sufficient after all..

she walked out of the bedroom, hitting her hip on the corner of a table slightly. "my, my.. you really need those glasses!" he teased as he ruffled her hair. an unimpressed look was plastered over her face, replacing her glasses. "yes, i do, osamu!". she ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself down.

"do you know where you last took them off?" he asked, of course he knew that she left them on the end table outside the bathroom. thats where he picked them up. she nodded her head, pointing to the end table that did not have the glasses.

he took her hand in his, suddenly feeling bad for what he had done. it was not worth seeing her so stressed out over some glasses. he walked her into the office room.

she didn't seem to realise it was osamu who had moved her glasses, so, to stay in her good books he looked around with her. when her back was turned, he took the glasses off of the shelf and put them on the desk beneath it.

"oh, darling! here they are!" he smiled as you turned around. he handed them to her and was pleased to see her smile back. "was it you, 'samu?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

he nodded slowly. she clicked her tongue before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

chuuya walked into the apartment, usually being greeted with a hug and a kiss but not today. it was too early for her to be asleep, he wandered where she was before he heard a frustrated groan.

"doll?" he spoke, wondering what was wrong. he heard her gasp as she ran into the front room to him. she greeted him with a hug quickly, throwing herself against him - chuuya having to catch her.

"hey chuu.." she kissed his cheek. she didn't want to have her worries affect him but she needed help. he gently placed her down and immediately notice the absence of her glasses.

"well you don't have to look at me like that." he sarcastically remarked as he pretended to be annoyed. he laughed at her squinting eyes. "did you lose your specs?" he asked.

"don't call them that, you geek!" she smacked him on the bicep gently before sighing, "yeah."

he pretended to wince in pain, holding the spot she hit.

"well i was going to help you, but i don't think you deserve to see now!" he joked. "where did you last have them, princess?" he kissed her forehead before adding in his pet name for her.

"i was taking a nap on the couch, and i think i put them either on the armrest by my head or on the coffee table." she exasperatedly exclaimed, throwing an arm in the direction of the living room.

chuuya instantly put together a theory, he walked over, hearing her footsteps behind him. she must have knocked them off from wherever they were in her sleep.

he activated his ability and touched the couch, letting it float up a metre or so. he crouched down and grabbed the glasses and slowly lowered the couch. she wasn't able to see the specifics of what happened but saw him walk towards her with a smug look on his face.

"here you go, doll." he held out the glasses, but before she could grab them he let them float to the ceiling. "costs a kiss to get them back!" he flicked her forehead.

she sighed, "i suppose i'll have to pay for another pair then.." she joked, earning an exaggerated shocked look from chuuya. she kissed his lips softly and caught the glasses as he lowered them.

fyodor was sat in his office, typing away on his computer in serious concentration.

in another room, he heard objects being moved around. last he checked, his partner was asleep. he heard her footsteps near before the door to his office opened.

spinning around in his chair, "мышь, is something troubling you?" he asked, receiving a small nod in response. "i can't find my glasses, my head hurts because i'm squinting, i feel gross, and i'm cold." she rattled off.

"where did you take them off, dear?" he queried. she shrugged. "i fell asleep on you when you were researching and woke up in our bed. thank you for taking me to the bed but i don't know where i put them!!" she gestured wildly, nervously cracking her fingers before he stood up.

he held her hands so she would stop with her nervous tic, "go take a shower love, and stop squinting. i will find them if it stresses you out so much." he hummed, softly rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

she went to the bathroom, fyodor was racking his brain for when she took them off. he thought she possibly left them in the car, he shuddered at the thought of going out in the cold weather to check the car. but, he put on his shoes and grabbed his coat.

before touching the door handle, he thought he is better to put his ushanka on. not wanting his head to be cold either.

walking towards the office she fell asleep in his arms on top of the chair in, he lifted up his ushanka. a pair of glasses with a few traces of fluff on them from the hat sat on the table.

letting out a sigh of relief as he didn't have to go out in the cold, he opted not to tell you it was his fault you couldn't spot your glasses.