'supernatural au thingie' 👀?
okay so first: I'm sorry for responding so late, readapting to college life has been quite hectic lmao
secondly: I did not expect this to catch on this much so I’m putting a disclaimer that this is only partially thought up and partially pulled out of my ass, so pls bear with me lmaoo
thanks for the asks and the comments!! and as desired, here it is! (heads up, it's kinda long 😅)
JASMINE: descended from the great women warriors, the mythological Amazons. even without her ancestry, she's truly a pillar of strength, both physically and mentally. people naturally gravitate toward her for reassurance yet are intimidated by her, alike. her ancestry shows in subtler ways, enhancing the skills she already has; her affinity for animals, particularly horses and other riding creatures; the strength and endurance that surpass an ordinary human; her combat skills that outpace even the strongest warrior. because she is a warrior, one who loves traveling, never being tied down, and who advocates for equality. women can be just as courageous as men. however, despite being equivalent to a show of strength and courage, her stature leaves her more of a lone wolf. (now she doesn't mind so much; she has her ragtag group of friends, after all. like, the phantom who's also a corporal human, in the throes of fear (and hatred)--a self-battle--of the opposite side of the creatures of the dead, an elf with a skewed perception of perfection that seeps at her very being like a parasite leaving her near-invisible compared to her sister, even a hunter who doesn't know what she's getting into setting foot in this town, and a seemingly ordinary guy with a lot more unordinary to him much to his utter dismay. it's far from perfect, in fact, with everyone's accumulating problems, things might get worse before they get better. but she's descended from the Amazons. she's a pillar of strength; she's there for them. she'll make sure everyone survives.)
SHAWN: best friends with Jasmine and Sammy; a ‘ghostbuster’ kinda guy except he doesn’t track down ghosts—he tracks down every other dead entity though. the reason? you can’t track down what you already have in you. along with being a hunter of the dead, ironically, Shawn is also a form of phantom. an accident gone terribly wrong, his physical body is never the same again. while he is a corporal human being, he can do the typical things phantasms can: walk through walls, move quicker and smoother, etc. he's a fantastic hider, only wishing to be found when he wants to be or when taken by surprise. it makes sense that he’d also entertain a deep distrust for the undead; ghosts and zombies are on opposite sides of the spectrum after all.
DAVE: an ordinary guy. totally, utterly, completely ordinary. right? yeah, no, that's what he thought (and hoped). he was ordinary, to give him credit, until a mysterious animal attack ("werewolf!" his best friend, Shawn, often whispered. "or a zombie!") caused his dormant unordinary genes to awaken. understandably, it's cruel irony that the one person who prides himself on being totally normal is actually a supernatural being that is the rarest and most abnormal. like a kick to the face, really. harbinger of death? seriously?! bad enough he gets premonitions of death and, on many occasions, though he's learned to control it over time, has to scream it out, but he's also part of the branch of supernatural that's predominant in women. come on, it's in the name, isn't it? banshee. alas for Dave, that isn't the case. he's going to have to learn to live with his oddity--the rarest of them all: being the male version of a banshee; a ban-he. even among the supernatural world, he's given a second glance. an oddity among oddities, concealed until he cannot anymore. (interesting parallel between Shawn and Dave in here, hm? one having a foot at death's door, the other literally being able to see death. makes sense that Dave's one of those few ppl able to find Shawn when he disappears). a tether, an anchor. he has one in the form of the girl he is closest to; he hasn't ever fathomed what would happen to him if anything drastic happened to her. he doesn't want to fathom it. harbingers of death retain emotional connections as a coping mechanism to ground them to reality, it can be hard for them to move on or let go at times; but he needs to learn to do so, to find a better way to survive, or else it will eat him up from the inside.
TOPHER: it makes sense that Topher would be a siren. an alluring way of words that makes the one spoken to preen; compliments upon compliments slowly luring them in. the catch, however, is simple but unconventional. whispers spread of a curse, (though no one knows if it is true and, if so, who was the curser); of the siren who is the epitome of the greek being Narcissus--only focused on himself even as people throw themselves at him. The Narcissus siren Topher puts his ambitions and fame over everything and everyone else; he would do anything to get on top. trust has no place in his worldview; the only person he does trust is himself. his reflection in the water is the only important, the only beautiful being, and if anyone dares cause some ripples, he'll make sure they regret it.
LEONARD: he's a fairly simple one. with a staff in hand, a penchant for spells and potions, and seemingly gibberish words leaving his lips, it's obvious he's bound for the path of magic. he can sense magical signatures--even potential supernatural ones within a person, though not the specifics. he's a magnet for abnormality, so it makes sense that he embraces it and is able to see it within the so-called normal world. and he does--he embraces the idea of being different, unique. magical. after his scientist father and an accident involving one of his inventions, getting these sweet powers was a pretty awesome deal for him! even if his father still, for some reason, doesn't seem to believe that magic exists. (it's a good thing his uncle, who has faint dwarven blood in him, does or else Leonard will go stir-crazy living with overly logical people.) and it's not just his family, magic is, ironically, the last thing people want to fully believe. aliens, the apocalypse, werewolves, everything else is fine. but magic? and, by extension, Leonard? no way. while it's amusing, it also disheartens him; that the world is so monochrome that such a bright thing like magic is seen as a faraway nothing. I mean, that's fine. it's not like he can show it off everywhere. there are some people who believe him (like the fae with a rose-tinted view of love, and the fiery girl whose supernatural signature is multiple shades of red and orange--like fire); but wherever he went, it seems like a lot of people don't like to believe him so readily (that one guy at school who scoffs at his displays is one of them; but Leonard can do one better: he can see the inhuman signature concealed in the guy's DNA. temporarily. not so normal after all. it'll be quite interesting to watch that blow-up happen--and it will happen soon.)
ELLA: with a musical voice that draws animals--and even people--toward her, her life and perspective are rosy and romantic. despite being a fae, Ella's far from mischievous like her companions. all she wants to do is help her friends and be a good friend in turn. flowers sway in her presence, they are soft and delicate, like her; but there are some plants that are deadly when truly provoked, and surprisingly, that is her as well. she doesn't use it often--if at all--but faes are known for their deadly anger, especially if scorned. Ella keeps saying she is nicer than her brethren, but how far can one really go, when pushed too far, to distance themselves from what's a part of them? (she's one of the few people to break down a frenzied Dave's walls from the start; perhaps it's because, in the end, despite their vivid differences, they both had similar intentions, but for different reasons; they both didn't want to acknowledge a part of them; the difference is that Ella embraced her difference compared to the other fae, Dave attempted to reject his.) really, she just wants to feel love. true, genuine love, unlike the illusions her brethren create.
SKY: truth be told, she's fully and utterly human. not a single drop of supernatural blood in her. no, she's not like Dave; there's seriously nothing hiding within her. however, that doesn't mean she doesn't have a foot in the supernatural world. similar to Shawn, she is also a hunter--though not just of ghosts and the dead; Sky hunts any and every supernatural creature. having grown up with a drive and passion to eradicate the dangers to the world and with an Achillean mentality on her shoulders, she sets out with the belief passed down by her family that the main (and only) thing posing a threat to the innocents are the supernatural. she's about to realize just how wrong she is and how far loyalties can go...
SUGAR: at a first glance, one might assume she, too, is a siren; with a deadly passion and alluring grace that has won her many pageant awards and golden crowns, she can make beauty look messy and deadly but in a defiant way. and that may be true; sometimes the blood and genetics of various supernatural creatures mix within one person. no one relly knows for sure if Sugar and her family hold traces of siren genes. perhaps she also has barbarian genetics in her as well--with her deadly rage and the fire in her eyes when she's scorned. or perhaps that's something different entirely; the fire in her eyes, the deadly rage--like a wildfire, the way her hair seems to glow and spark like embers if you focus on it; sometimes the temperature rises a bit. honestly, if you think abt it, Sugar being a fire sprite makes sense; as well as the traces of dragon ancestry--she hoardes those gold crowns and trophies like nobody's business, basks in pride like its second skin, highly possessive of what she deems her righteously deserved, she doesn't like being scorned; it only feeds the flames. living on a farm, she probably isn't aware of the true power within her.
BEARDO: he can do more than just mimic sounds; the sounds revolve around him. he can warp things, even reality, with just the noises he makes. 'sound manipulator' would be the best way to classify him; his power relies on sound, itself; making him quite a powerful being, indeed, as sound is everywhere, even in the slightest drop of a pin. it's a good thing he isn't vengeful or antagonistic or else there would be problems.
SAMMY & AMY: with their delicate features and light hair, their semi-pointed features, and light eyes, the elven blood runs prominent in the twins. it's said that with little effort they can merge together into one terrifying creature, an unstoppable force; but neither are willing to test that theory out. they hate each other, one unconsciously jealous of the other, while the other just wants to break free from the toxicity. they are each other's monsters, the unstoppable force. while Amy revels in the attention she gets--at the expense of her twin--using her willowy ways to obtain her twisted rose-tinted version of perfection (all elves are obsessed with perfection of some sort), Sammy is the outlier. slowly, she starts to slip away, become more and more Amy instead of Sammy. she cannot stop it, it's the bane of being an elf; Amy's version of perfection bleeds into Sammy, forcing her to believe the same. And elves will do anything to reach that level of perceived perfection. sooner or later, Sammy won't be Sammy anymore unless something changes. like maybe her version of perfection. (but that's something she ultimately has to do on her own; no one else, not even her friends, can pull her out of the merciless grips of the unknown if she doesn't feel like she deserves to be seen.)
MAX: according to him, he's an evil genius. a mad scientist who wishes to observe and pick apart the supernatural. unfortunately (or rather ironically) for him, despite saying over and over that he's a man to be feared, his abode has unintentionally turned into the main sanctuary, a home base for the supernatural. everyone somehow ends up there whenever they need assistance and he complains that he doesn't want to help him, but in the end he does (either via subtle threats, or bc of his own curiosity). over time, he becomes this disgruntled supernatural magnet who helps but is a bit eccentric with ideas that are even more eccentric than his personality). he wants to make himself into a supernatural creature too, invoke that kind of power, but fear holds him back from many things--including becoming part of the supernatural. you know the saying 'his bark is worse than his bite'? that is Max to a T. kind of ironic that the guy who wants to be a supernatural creature doesn't as opposed to some other certain people mentioned above who wanted the exact opposite. (although he is intrigued by that inventor who he asked to be his sidekick. pretty dull move on his end, but he will only realize this far later on. as of right now, he has not a clue why she suddenly despises him so much. he is the evil genius in the making, right? an inventor as a sidekick would be good! he just doesn't get why she's so against it. is he offending her? nonsense! evil doesn't offend...but is he? people are so unnecessarily complicated, ugh.)
SCARLETT: an inventor with quick, deft hands, and a faster and sharper mind, every bone and nerve in Scarlett's body hums to creation--of the mechanical kind. but the mechanisms in her body are not just of the human variety; there is a way of thinking that people often drift to the kind of hobby/career that describes them physically. in Scarlett's case, it is truth. first being experimented on by her overly ambitious mother (a trait she shares) and then testing her own inventions on herself (that is the only form of testing she knows and is used to, after all), and, as the cherry on top, an accident that left half of her body immobile had it not been for an emergency surgery that left one part of her body human and the other a working mechanism of gears and wires and other robotic parts; Scarlett thinks it's funny, really, when she says the only organ in her chest where her heart should be is merely a pulsing hunk of metal. she wonders, at times, if the heart in her is even her own; perhaps, during the surgery, the doctors had switched hearts to keep her alive. it's a thought that sometimes keeps her awake at night, pondering.
RODNEY: no one, not even him and his family, knows his lineage. it's tangled enough as is without bringing in the supernatural too. the phrase 'gentle giant' isn't lost on him; barbarian is too...well, barbaric for someone like him, and there have been considerations of fire sprites or merely forest nymphs and dryad ancestries. the truth is unclear. as said previously, the lineages of the supernatural can get mixed up; it can make sense that Rodney and his family retained several branches of the supernatural. if you ask him, Rodney would say he's just a guy with a love for the forests, the trees, and everything in them. most of all, he loves his family. he would do anything for them. one would even say they're like his pack, but they don't. the supernatural lineages are quite mixed up in this family without adding speculation...right?
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a sinner i am
If its so wrong, why does it feel so good?
trope: Boyfriend's Dad
PP character: Joel Miller x f reader
summary: Your boyfriend Shawn Miller and his dad Joel bring you along to Hawaii for Christmas vacation. Things don't go as planned.
warning: 10/10 on the sexual tension scale, slowishh burn, kissing, grinding, cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah.
rating: E
words 6.8k
wanna see my other stuff?
part i :
The best things in life are the people we love, the places we’ve been, and all the memories we’ve made along the way. - author unknown
"Loving him is a sin; of that I'm fully aware. But a sinner I am." - Bella Jewel
Your boyfriend Shawn brings over two iced coffees as the two of you work on a crossword together at your local coffee shop. You have been filling in the squares quickly.
"Thanks babe," you say warmly as you take the coffee from him. He presses a kiss to your temple, taking a seat next to you.
"Damn, you're fast this mornin'," he says when he sees all you've filled in. It's a tradition for the two of you; weekend crosswords over coffee. It's nice. It's domestic.
It's a little boring.
You're college sweethearts who met your sophomore year and have been inseparable since. And while the love is still very much there the butterflies have unfortunately been hibernating for a while.
It's normal, you tell yourself when you sometimes zone out during sex. It's normal when you've been together with someone so long.
"It's so nice to be doing this instead of college essays," you say.
"Fuck yeah it is."
This is your first summer of freedom without the threat of schoolwork looming in the near distance. Shawn is starting his master's in the fall and you've just accepted a position at the local museum.
“Just think I’ll actually be able to enjoy Christmas this year,” you tease. “Unlike someone who’ll be working on essays.”
“Hey now,” Shawn says with mock offence. “I’ll be able to enjoy my Christmas just fine. Actually, my dad wants to celebrate Christmas somewhere warm this year. He's talkin' about some resort in Hawaii."
Shawn comes from money, the son of the infamous Joel Miller of The Miller Company, the premiere construction firm in Texas. This means expensive vacations, nice cars, all of that is normal for him. You meanwhile have had to work hard for everything you have.
Being left behind at Christmas seems strangely unkind for the normally thoughtful head of the Miller family. Shawn's dad has always treated you like one of the family so this news is unexpected.
"Have a great time," you say trying not to be jealous. "Bring me back some chocolate macadamia nuts."
You can admit that even though both Shawn and his father are humble, kind men, you're always a bit bitter that they live so nicely. Leaving you out of their holiday vacation seems especially unkind.
"He's taking both of us babe," Shawn says with a grin. "You think he's gonna leave you behind on Christmas? After you’ve spent the last six with us?"
Christmas in Hawaii? Is this a dream? Your pencil lays forgotten on the table as you gape open-jawed at your boyfriend.
"Are you serious?"
"Babe," Shawn says meaningfully. "My dad likes you better than he likes me. Of course you're invited."
You've always gotten along with Joel. It's impossible not to. He's friendly, funny and charming. There's a reason he's good at his job. And you're a good girl, a kind girlfriend to his son with clear career ambitions.
A smile breaks out over your features and you pull Shawn into a tight hug. He chuckles, embracing you back, kissing your cheek.
"Make sure you don’t overpack, okay?" He murmurs in your ear as you giggle. “I don’t feel like helping you haul six bags of shoes for a week-long trip.”
Thoughts of lounging by the pool with a drink in one hand and a magazine in the other while the Hawaiian sun beats down on you is all too enticing. You kiss him fiercely, imagining the time together.
"I can't wait."
The two of you finish the crossword puzzle all the while talking about the drinks and food and the excursions you'll both take.
"Maybe once I've got a handle on school we can think about findin' an apartment in the new year," Shawn broaches, his hand over yours.
Sex fades, but this? This domestic stuff you have with Shawn? That's special. That's love.
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
He gives you a smile, that dimple poking out of his cheek that makes you swoon.
"Ready to go?" Shawn asks, extending his hand to you when your coffees are drained.
"Yeah," you say with your hand taking his. "Let's go."
When December twentieth announces itself with a thunderstorm you couldn’t care less because you’re at the airport. Your large rolling bag bag is stuffed with cute outfits, swimsuits and even some snorkelling gear.
"Feels like you got a dead body in here," Shawn laughs as he struggles with the two bags, handing you yours before swinging an arm around your shoulders.
"I wanted to be prepared."
"Let's go my little Girl Scout," he laughs with a gentle kiss to your temple. You both check in and then find your boarding gate.
"I'm gonna grab breakfast, you want anything?" Shawn asks as he parks you and the suitcases by the gate full of noisy travellers.
"Nah, I'm good."
Shawn jogs off in the direction of a Starbucks you passed on your way in.
Out the larger windows you can see planes taking off. You've never flown before; you thought that you'd be excited. But at the first view of those planes out the window you feel your stomach drop.
They’re so big and bulky. How does it fly properly? It couldn’t. What if people shift around too much in their seats? Surely this can’t be a safe form of travel!
You pull out your phone, distracting yourself with a game. You try for several moments but your eyes keep being drawn to the huge planes outside. You grimace, wondering if you should have gotten your doctor to prescribe you something for anxiety.
"Cheer up," a voice says. "You look like you're goin' to prison, not a five star resort."
You glance over to see Shawn's dad, Joel, at the other side of you, an amused look on his handsome face. He's wearing jeans and a faded grey Longhorns t-shirt. You're momentarily thrown as normally you see him in dress pants and button downs for work.
"I'm excited for the resort, just not the giant metal death box hurling through the air that is my only means of getting there."
"Touche."
Shawn jokes about Joel liking you better then he likes him, but the truth is you and Joel are very similar. Your senses of humour, your ability to read people, your tendency to see the worst in people before they prove themselves worthy.
Shawn is more like his mom, sweet and naive at times, always seeing the good in people. It's ironic considering which parent stuck around to raise him and which one escaped the country six years after Shawn was born.
Joel takes the empty seat next to you, his kneecap kissing yours as he pulls out his phone.
"Never flown before," you explain.
"Ah, I see," Joel puts his phone in his pocket, his attention fully fixed on your face. "Well what if I told you it's actually the safest way to travel?"
"I'd call you a liar."
Joel chuckles richly, his hand falling to your knee and squeezing as he laughs.
"I promise you, I wouldn't take you on anything unsafe. And if all that's not good enough, you'll have Shawn beside you holding your hand the whole time."
You grin at that, nodding. The thought of Shawn being there does help your anxiety. Joel smiles back, eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Thank you so much for inviting me along in this trip, Joel. I've always wanted to go to Hawaii."
"S'a beautiful place," Joel nods. "And you don't need to thank me. You're practically family at this point."
Shawn returns with a muffin and two coffees in hand.
"Hey dad, got you a coffee," Shawn says handing it to his father.
"Thanks," Joel says gratefully. Just then the intercom alert sounds
"Good afternoon passengers.This is the announcement for flight 82B for Oahu, Hawaii. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”
“That’s us.”
The lineup goes uncomfortably fast. You stand beside Sean who is talking to Joel behind you, the two of them deep in conversation about football, a subject you couldn't care less about. You are still too preoccupied with the flight, being surrounded by almost all strangers sailing through the sky.
You're not a fan of heights. So when you get to the door of the plane you hesitate, willing your foot to move. When it doesn't and the flight attendants shoot you a confused look, you feel yourself start to panic.
Shawn has gone on ahead to grab your seats and place your carry-on bag in the overhead bin, not noticing that you're not behind him. A large hand flies to the small of your back, a comforting gesture. Joel. He rubs there, soothing you.
"You'll be okay darlin'," he rumbles in your ear. "Remember, it’s safer than drivin' a car."
“Liar.”
Joel’s deep chuckle makes you grin and you allow Joel to gently prod you onto the plane, shooting the waiting attendants grateful looks for their patience. He takes his seat near the front, watching as you make your way to your seat next to Shawn. As you buckle in a thought occurs to you and you move your voice to a whisper.
"Isn't it gonna be kinda weird with us being there all week with just your dad? I mean, sharing the place and all?"
"Nah, he made sure the rooms were far apart. Plus, he invited his girlfriend to come along so I doubt we'll see much of him."
Joel is a chronic workaholic, often pulling late nights and working on his phone. You’ve seen him out and about with beautiful women at the events Shawn takes you to but never formally dating them. You always assumed to be a lifelong bachelor. You wouldn't blame him, especially after what he's been through with Shawn's mother.
"I didn't know he had a girlfriend," you say honestly. "Good for him."
"A couple months now," your boyfriend tells you. "You know my dad, mister private. But he took me to dinner and told me about her so I think he's getting serious."
"That's really sweet," you say honestly. You want nothing but the best for him.
All of a sudden the plane starts to jiggle, sending people stumbling down the aisles and others gasping in surprise. You reach over and grab Shawn's hand, trying to regulate your breathing.
"Not so tight, babe," Shawn complains before gently sliding his hand from under yours. "You scratched me with your nails."
"Sorry," you mumble, eyes closed as the jostling of the plane continues.
You tighten your seat belt before gripping the seat arms so tightly that your knuckles are white. Sean squeezes your kneecap, murmuring that everything will be okay and that you’re safe. You keep your eyes closed, trying to focus on the soothing sounds of his words.
Eventually the plane enters smooth skies and the seat belt sign is turned off. Despite this you remain keyed up, sitting stiffly as Shawn fades into a nap.
"Excuse me, Miss?"
You crack open an eye to see a beautiful redheaded flight attendant bending down towards you with a glass of what appears to be whisky in her hand. She extends it towards you and you take it confused.
"This is from the gentleman in A-1. He says to take this and you'll be relaxed for the rest of the flight."
You look up a few rows to see Joel giving you a brief wave. You thank the women before raising it towards Joel in a Cheers motion.
Drink it. Joel mouths.
Yes, sir. You mouth back complete with a stiff fake salute before tossing back the drink.
He grins at you before settling back in his seat.
The drink does the job.
"Here we are."
The cab drops the three of you in front of the beach resort. When you step out the air is fragrant with the scent of flowers. You wait while Joel checks you all in before he's back, motioning for you both to follow.
There's the main section of the resort with luxurious hotel rooms. The more secluded section contains a variety of self contained houses that dot the waterfront. Its reserved for people who have unlimited credit card limits and drive cars that cost more than your parents first home.
When you arrive to your unit, your eyes are ready to bug out of your head. It's massive, as far as vacation rentals go. When you all step into the air conditioned unit you have to take a moment to take it all in.
The beach house is beautiful with floor to ceiling windows, stunning tile floors and tasteful furniture. All of this is topped off with spectacular views of the beach outside your door.
A plate of sliced pineapple and chilled wine sits on the kitchen table, along with a note that Joel reads when he wanders over.
"Welcome note," he explains when he sees you looking at it. "I knew the owner back in trade school."
You and Shawn nod, your boyfriends hand trailing down your back gently. It's much the same as what Joel did back at the airplane, but it feels different. You trail your suitcase behind you hearing the clack of it against the stone floor as you move around the room.
"Wow."
It's all you can utter as the three of you tour the rest of the unit. There’s a simple kitchen with an expensive looking coffee machine and a brand new bag of kona coffee waiting to be used. The living room holds a table and four chairs, a few board games and a list of nearby places to visit along with the wifi code. The couch is simple, placed in front of a large television that you’re sure you won’t use.
"My bedrooms on the right," Joel tells you both. "Yours it's on the left. We're sharin’ a bathroom, sorry about that. Pretty common in these places."
Who cares about sharing a bathroom when you're in one of the most beautiful places you've ever been? Even the bathroom is beautiful with its high waterfall shower head and sleek marble. This place must have cost a fortune for the week.
Joel encourages you both to take a look at your room down the hall and you don't hesitate to take Shawn's hand, dragging him there. Shawn pushes open the door to the bedroom and you can't hold in your shriek.
"Holy shit! It's gorgeous!"
The big windows overlook the ocean, the late afternoon beach beckoning to you. The bed is large and plush with white sheets, and framed prints of Oahu sunsets. Its spacious, the bed so large it looks like two giant beds pushed together. The closet is spacious and boats dozens of wood coat hangers.
“Wood, because it’s classy,” you tell Shawn in amusement who is already unpacking his suitcase while you continue to stare in a daze.
"You like it?"
Joel is standing at the door frame, a shoulder balanced against it, watching you take it all in. He's smiling at you in that gentle, sweet way of his that makes you feel cared for.
You're suddenly overcome with gratitude and you streak over to him.
"Thank you, Joel!" You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever been."
Joel laughs along with Shawn at your embrace and enthusiasm, holding you around the middle and hoisting you in his arms. Your face presses into his neck as he squeezes you, and the scent of leather and sandalwood envelops you.
You've never really hugged Joel before. Maybe a polite side hug during family events, a high-five during baseball games and even once a hard push to his shoulder when he made fun of you for being afraid of a spider that had gotten into the house.
But you've never had your front pressed to his, never really felt the muscles of his back and arms, seen the tendons in his neck or realized just how big his hands are when they squeeze your waist before lowering you.
"I guess that means you like it," he says, red-faced. You pull back, embarrassed at your overzealous response.
Shawn and his dad are very similar in their looks. Except Shawn is clean-shaven while Joel has a beard and Shawn's eyes are hazel like his mom's while Joel's are the darkest brown you've ever seen. You've never really noticed how dark until this very moment.
You shoot him a cheery thank you again before smiling and skipping over to Shawn announcing that you'll unpack as well.
"You two enjoy, I gotta make a few calls but then we can head out to dinner."
"Sounds great," Shawn says as he searches for his phone charger.
Joel closes the door behind him and you turn to your boyfriend. You can't explain it but you feel turned on. The Hawaiian air must be doing something to you because
You crawl towards where he kneels unpacking. You grin, feeling the pulse of desire hitting you below the navel. You kneel beside him, dropping your voice to a husky murmur.
"Should we break the bed in?"
An hour later the three of you are sitting at a local eatery. Joel and Shawn are talking with one another while you scan the busy restaurant.
Couples, families, all laughing and cheerful. And why wouldn't they? This is Paradise after all. But you don't feel anything like it, if anything, you feel like a little black rain cloud.
Shawn turned down your earlier advances, citing that he was too tired. The problem is for the past three months Shawn has been too tired most of the time. At first he blamed grad school but when you pointed out he still made lots of time for gaming with best friends Brian and Kevin he'd been quick to explain that gaming relaxed him.
That conversation had gone over about as well as a turd in the punch bowl. You remember being so hurt at what you felt was a slight against you. Weren't you relaxing? Weren't you something that made him happy?
So yeah, you had hoped that this little vacation might stir some of that old spark back. But maybe you were too eager. You had just arrived at the place after all. Maybe you were being unfair. Still, the rejection stung.
"Thought we could do all the tourist-y shit while we're here," Joel says after you've all placed your orders. "Luau, sunset cruise."
"Snorkelling?" Shawn offers.
"Hell yes," Joel nods grinning. "ATV tour too."
The Millers like to have fun. They also like to keep busy. It's like second nature to them to be off on adventures or activities. You meanwhile plan on spending lots of time by the pool or the beach, reading and drinking.
"What about you, darlin'?" Joel asks between sips of whisky. "What're you hopin' to do?"
You know exactly what. The thing you've been dying to do since you were a kid at the aquarium.
"I wanna swim with the turtles."
Shawn bursts into amused laughter beside you, and if you weren't already irritated with him before, you certainly are now. He grins at you not understanding that you're secretly furious with him.
"Turtles? Really?"
"What's wrong with turtles?"
"Seems kinda babyish doesn't it?"
"What's babyish about liking animals?" Joel cuts in. "You forgetting about the time we wouldn't let you in the petting zoo and you threw your shoe at me?"
"I was five, dad."
"Yeah well, some things don't change," Joel says with a smirk. "Still throwin' tantrums when you don't get your way."
"Fuck off old man," Shawn says through chuckles. “Don’t forget I’m your only child. I pick which retirement home I’m gonna stick you in when your mind goes.”
“Little bastard,” Joel mutters, trying to hold back a loud laugh.
He settles for tossing a drink umbrella in Shawn’s direction, chuckling when Shawn dodges it easily. You can't help but laugh along with him, your bad mood fading.
By the time dessert arrives you're all several glasses of wine in reminiscing about Shawn's last attempt at surfing.
"I've gotten better," he exclaims. “I swear.”
"Yeah well we'll see about that," Joel says paying the check. "Alright team, let's head back and get some shut eye. This old man needs it."
You roll your eyes at that. Joel isn't even fifty and even if he was he's about the best looking man his age bracket and younger. You've seen the way women stare at him, whispering, blushing when he looks their way. He is not what you’d qualify as old.
The three of you arrive back at the unit to the sound of nighttime creatures croaking and buzzing.
"Alright I'll meet you two out here tomorrow morning around nine. We can go to the excursion desk and plan the week. Sound good?"
"Sounds good, night Dad."
"Night Joel."
The three of you part ways into the opposite bedrooms. Shawn nuzzles your neck gently kissing there. He always does that when he's been drinking. You smile delightedly at this, eager to get into bed.
When the lights are off and the two of you have slipped off your clothes and under the covers you roll towards him, peppering his face with soft kisses.
"It's late, babe," he murmurs, kissing you sweetly but with finality.
"We're on vacation," you remind him, slipping your hand under his boxers.
You feel him slowly start to harden in your grip. You hear his breath hitch and you smile, knowing those sounds so intimately. You tug off your panties and slide onto his lap, preparing to ride him.
"Fuck me," you whisper, hips grinding against his. "Wanna feel your cock in me."
“Baby, no.”
Shawn pulls you off of him and you tumble into the bed next to him, feeling your cheeks grow hot with humiliation.
"My dad is right across the hall," Shawn hisses. “I don’t want him hearing us.”
Rejection never sits well with you and immediately you feel yourself growing defensive.
"You're dad is gonna be across the hall the whole week, Shawn,” you whisper angrily. “So what, we're not going to have fuck this entire trip?"
"We'll have sex," Shawn said rolling his eyes. "Just not when my dad is ten feet away sharing a fuckin' bathroom with us."
Bullshit. Another excuse to put off the intimacy that’s been dwindling for months. You push yourself from the bed, tugging on your dress from earlier. Shawn leans up on his elbows, giving you a look of concern.
"Where are you going?"
"A walk."
"I'll c---"
"No," you say sharp as a knife. "I want to go alone."
You stalk out of the house, eyes glossy with hurt and anger. That's the thing they don't tell you about relationships that have gone on so long -- both partners need to work to keep the fires going.
You make your way to the beach along the softly lit pathway. Its well after midnight and the resort is quiet; the lights dimmed or off entirely. You take a seat on a nearby rock, listening to the gentle sound of the evening waters lapping by the shore. You're very excited to go swimming tomorrow. To feel the warm sand underneath your feet.
You can hear noise coming from the far end of the resort. You remember over dinner Joel going through the resort map on his phone, letting you know what amenities they had. He had told you both about the dance club the resort had.
Shawn had immediately laughed, stating that he’d take a pass on it. Shawn hates dancing. You tried to get him to do dance lessons with you once but he wouldn't even give it a shot.
Right now it seems all you can do is focus on Sean's flaws. You know that he's a decent man, you know the treats you well, but there are these bugaboos these irritants that can't help frustrate you right now.
"Fuck it," you murmur to yourself, raising yourself from the sand and brushing it from your sundress. You follow the sound of the music, stopping in front of a door with blinking lights. A man in a blue Hawaiian shirt smiles at you when you approach.
"Aloha, may I ask your Unit number?"
"Number 4, under Miller."
The man types into his computer before nodding, opening the door for you. You step into the darkness, letting your eyes adjust to the blue lights and colourful dance floor. The speakers are playing typical vacation music with a heavy bass.
Bodies writhe on the dance floor, half naked in revealing dresses or in the men's case, unbuttoned shirts. You order a drink at the bar, taking it with you as you scout the area for a free chair. A hand on your wrist surprises you.
"Joel?"
Joel is seated at one of the small circle tables nursing what appears to be a tumbler of Scotch. He motions for you to take the free chair next to him and you do gratefully falling into it, your arm bumping his.
"What are you doin' here? Since when does Shawn dance?" He asks over the bass, grinning. He looks a bit tipsy, his neck red.
"He doesn't, I'm here alone. I needed to blow off some steam," you tell him over the music.
"Me too," he says loudly back. "Couldn't sleep. Too excited, I guess."
You nod, looking back at the dance floor wistfully. Everyone looks like they're having such a fun time, their worries and concerns far away from them as they undulate to the rhythm of the music. Joel takes another sip of his drink, watching you from the corner of his eyes.
You wish Shawn was here with you, you wish he was spinning you around on the dance floor. You wish it was like those early years where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.
"You and Shawn doin' okay?"
Joel's voice cuts into your confusing thoughts. You glance his way.
"Why do you ask?"
"Cuz I'm a dad," Joel. "And I've been married. And I know what tension between two people looks like."
You sigh heavily, your mind drifting to earlier. You don’t answer Joel because what would you tell him? You can’t tell your boyfriend’s dad that you’re worried his son is growing distant. You can’t tell him that your sex life has been disintegrating for the past several months. Instead you just shrug.
"You two talked about marriage?"
"What? No.”
You and Shawn have been together a long time, but you have no intention of settling down anytime soon. Sean is still doing his masters and you're loving your job at the museum.
"Good. No, not like that," Joel amends when he sees your stricken expression. "I just mean you're both so young."
"You were younger than us when you got married.”
"Yeah and look where that got me," he says with a scoff.
"Yeah, well, I think it's just been a long time and we're hitting a rough patch. Nothing we can't overcome," you add quickly. "It's just hard sometimes, you know?"
"Yeah," Joel nods. "I know."
The two of you lapse into silence, watching the twirling, shouting, laughing people swan around you. You shouldn’t be glum, you should be experiencing life!
"You wanna dance?"
His voice is low and husky in your ear. You start, surprised to see Joel inches from your face. You know he's speaking so close to you because it's so loud in here, but it doesn't stop your pulse from ticking at the shock.
"Don't really know how.”
"Shit reason. C'mon."
Joel throws back the rest of his drink and drags you onto the dance floor. You laugh as he spins you, both of you almost knocking into an older couple who are taking the dance very seriously. They shoot you both a nasty look and you and Joel have to work hard to muffle your laughter.
"You're gonna get us kicked out!"
"Nah," Joel shakes his head, spinning you again but closer to him. "I'm too charmin’."
"You think pretty highly of yourself don't you?"
Joel shrugs, laughing as the song ends. Another quick one begins and Joel looks serious.
"I'm gonna teach you some moves Shawn's mom taught me."
"Okay."
You're surprised, he doesn't really mention Shawn's mother very often.
You watch as Joel attempts to teach you some simple dance moves. You don't know if it's the stuffy club, the drinks running through your veins or the fact that you're dancing with your boyfriend's dad, but you can't really focus on the steps.
"I give up," you moan after the fifth failed attempt at a two-step.
"You ain't a quitter," Joel assures you, trying to spin you slowly so you can get your footing.
You never realized that Joel was such a good dancer. Watching him move his tall body is strangely hypnotizing, mainly because you never expected a man that broad and muscular to move so fluidly.
"Atta girl," he says proudly when you get some of the footing correct.
You smirk when you see the women nearby watching him, shooting him smiles. But his focus is on you, teaching you the moves and assuring you: it's alright darlin', we'll get you there just take your time.
You're having so much fun with him you barely realize that an hour has gone by and you can only tell when you realize the back of your neck is damp with sweat.
You're about to announce your heading back to the unit when the beat slows and many trickle off the dance floor. It's a slow song, and only the couples remain in the glowing dance floor.
You go to step off when you feel Joel spin you again, back into his arms. You smile breathlessly up at him, the two of you shiny from perspiration from the dancing and the warm crowded space.
Joel is looking at you strangely, his eyes luminous in the reflection of the twinkling club lights. When he slides a hand at your lower back and urges your hands around his neck you don't hesitate. You lace your fingers there, shifting from foot to foot.
You feel strange to be dancing with Joel. And not because he makes you feel uncomfortable, it's the opposite, actually. You feel almost too comfortable. Joel’s eyes are trailing over your face, sometimes highlighted by the flash of the DJ’s lights.
“You talked to Shawn about all that’s botherin’ you and this rough patch?” Joel asks out of nowhere.
He looks vulnerable; unlike the Joel you know who is all smiles and jokes.
“Kinda,” you say shyly, looking over his shoulder. “It’s just hard. . . We can both get pretty defensive. Plus, I wonder if I’m maybe being unfair. He’s in school and everything.”
“Uh huh, and you started that museum job didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Pretty demanding job, ain’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Joel gives you a look as he rocks you both from side to side
“Can I say somethin’ you might not wanna hear?”
You nod.
“In my experience, it takes two people to make a relationship. Not one puttin’ in all the effort while the other one has his or her head in the sand.”
You nod slowly, absorbing his words. The song ends and Joel releases his hands you’re your waist before he announces he has to hit the washroom. You head to the bar for a glass of water and to wait for him.
"Hi beautiful."
An Australian man around Joel's age with a moustache is leaning against the bar next to you. His eyes are bleary and red-rimmed, his cheeks ruddy. He’s obviously very drunk. You give a forced smile before going back to wait for your water.
"Can I get you a drink?"
"No thanks," you answer quickly. "Just getting water."
"How about a dance then?"
"I'm good," you say forcing a polite smile. You’re facing away from him, eyes on the bartender hoping he notices you.
"C'mon beautiful," the man insists, eyes sliding over your chest in a very obvious way. "I'm a good dancer too. Could give you lots of lessons."
"She said no."
Joel's voice is there, having clearly come back from the bathroom. You step backwards and before you know it Joel is sliding his arm protectively around you. You glance up to see Joel's face contorted into a mask of fury. His teeth are bared like some wild animal and he grips you tightly to him.
"Sorry man," The guy says holding his hands up in surrender towards Joel. "Didn't know she was taken."
Joel sneers before leading you out of the club. The cool air is a welcome reprieve when you step outside, breathing deeply.
"That place is nothin' but perverts," Joel growls as the two of you make your way back along the beach in the direction of your unit.
"Joel, you were there," you say giggling. "That make you a pervert?"
"Ha ha."
You walk quietly along the shoreline, confused as to how you can feel this good when just an hour ago it felt like everything was falling apart. Maybe it’s the drink in your veins, maybe its Hawaii, or maybe it’s just Joel.
"Watch it--"
Joel takes your hand when you stumble over a rock in the semi darkness. You let him, not dropping it even when your walking evens out. It feels nice to walk hand in hand with him, it feels safe. He doesn't let go of your hand either as you continue along, your shoes making dual footprints in the sand.
"Thanks for in there," you say. “I hate creepy guys like that.”
"Was nothin'," he says, then he drops your hand after a moment. "Shawn would have done the same."
"No, he wouldn't have."
It slips out before you can stop yourself. Joel stops in the sand, his concern there in his face. It’s clear that what you’ve said has upset him.
"What?"
"He doesn't like confrontation, you know that," you say with a shrug. "And I like that about him."
"You do?" Joel challenges. "Really?"
"Sometimes."
Honestly you’ve never enjoyed the men who start fights for no reason, who act like cavemen when someone looks at their girlfriend. Shawn is too smart for that, too above it to engage with assholes like that. But you have to admit that there was a part of you that found Joel’s actions inside the club to be a bit attractive. Is that the word? Would you really call your boyfriend’s father attractive?
You look at him standing there, his grey t-shirt clinging to his muscles and wide shoulders, the muscular thighs in denim and you think, fuck, yeah he is attractive. You knew he wasn’t ugly, you’d just never looked at him like that. Like he was a man outside of being Shawn’s dad.
"I come from a time when you take care of what's yours." Joel runs a hand through his messy curls. "If you were mine I wouldn't let anyone talk to you the way that man did, let alone touch you."
If you were mine.
You can't understand why but you're nipples tighten under your dress at those words. The possessiveness in Joel's voice is so dark and husky. He’s looking off into the dark like he’s really upset.
"If I was yours," you murmur.
His glazed eyes move from the beach over to your face. You’re standing so close to one another and you can see his chest rising and falling quickly as he breathes. His scotch-coated breath huffs over your cheeks and you swear you’re getting drunker just inhaling it.
You must be, because why else would you be putting your hands on his shoulders. Why else would you be pressing your mouth to his? Why else would you be tracing his plush lips with your tongue and whimpering when he groans into your parted mouth?
And he must be drunk because he doesn’t pull away or hesitate. He dips his head and his hands wrap around your waist, bringing your body against him tightly. His palms slide over your skin, desperate to touch you everywhere as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. You welcome it, going gooey in his arms, allowing him to take what he wants from you.
He’s so fucking broad, so strong, so masculine. You gasp into his mouth when he grips your ass with his big hands, pulling your hips against his, circling them as he kisses you. You feel his hardened cock through the layers of fabric, straining against the zipper of his jeans, desperate to bury itself in your slick heat.
To be desired like this feels powerful. It feels like years since Shawn wanted you like this much. It makes you lean more into Joel, desperate to keep the sensation going. His hands are sliding under your dress, up your silken thigh and you tremble.
A splash sounds nearby in the water, a fish or something startling you both and you simultaneously break apart. You both take a step back from one another in the sand, eyes wide. Joel looks completely crazed.
“The fuck—what are we doin’?” Joel whispers, the regret clear in both your faces.
You bring your trembling hands to your warm cheeks and tears immediately spring to your waterline.
What have you just done?
“Oh my fuck, no no, I don’t – I don’t know why-“
You bend at the waist, hands braced on your knees as you start to hyperventilate. Joel is pacing up and down the sand, his silhouette barely seen in the darkness of night. You can see his feet pacing back and forth. . . back and forth . . . He stops when you let out a hiccup, on the verge of throwing up.
“Honey stop,” Joel says, a hand on your back, rubbing gently along your spine. “Calm down. Calm down, its okay.”
“I don’t know why I did that,” you say, tears streaming down your face and dropping into the sand below. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“S’not your fault,” Joel says, his voice even and calm. It makes you feel calm. And yet, guilt still bubbles up in your lungs, making a small sob escape.
“I have to—you need to—I need to tell Shawn. Right now.”
“Hold on,” Joel says roughly, gripping you by the shoulder and urging you to stand. He peers into your face with a grim expression.
“You cannot tell Shawn anythin’.”
“I have to,” you whine.
“It’ll just hurt him,” Joel insists, nodding and hoping you’ll do the same. “It was a mistake. It was nothing, it was just the booze. We just drank too much and we were all hopped up on that asshole inside the club and we weren’t thinkin’.”
“Right,” you agree, relief sliding through every vein you possess as he lays it out for you. “That’s totally what it was. The drinking. We’re drunk.”
“Completely.”
“Okay. Good.”
You’re still shaken up by what just happened, still tipsy from the drinks. Joel runs an anxious hand through his curls, looking utterly wrecked.
“Let’s go back.”
The two of you walk the rest of the way back in silence. You still cannot believe what you did. You kissed your boyfriend’s father. You kissed him and he kissed you back. Fuck, you both must be utterly wasted. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll both forget it even happened. You would welcome the hangover from hell if it could erase the last fifteen minutes from both your minds for good.
Joel tugs open the sliding glass door, not able to look at you as you both pad towards the opposing doors. You glance over your shoulder to see Joel staring at you as you enter the bedroom where his son sleeps. You give him a sorrowful smile before closing the door.
You crawl under the covers, thankful that Shawn is asleep. You slip off the dress, your hair wild from dancing, your skin sticky with sweat, and your mouth still tasting of scotch. Your cunt flutters at the memory of the noises he made.
You roll onto your side, trying to drift to sleep. Shawn, still half-slumbering snuggles up against your back. His arm slips over your waist and he holds you, as he often holds you back home, gentle and tender and full of love.
“I’m sorry about before, babe,” he murmurs into your hair.
You feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You blink rapidly, closing your eyes and trying to swallow the guilt.
You know that Joel is in his bed right now similarly afflicted, thinking about how he did something so unforgivable and to his own son. Joel is the kindest dad you know; he loves his son more than anything. You know that what you both just did was awful and disgusting.
You also know that there is something deeply wrong with you because as you lay there in Shawn’s arms your pussy floods with memories of his father’s mouth on yours still vivid in your mind.
do you guys want more of this? or should it be a one-shot? also trying a new aesthetic what do we tthink?
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Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…
warnings: jelousy
a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request
It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...
and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face once... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.
But it still wasn't hate
Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits
And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?
"You're staring"
Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you
"I just don't get why he's here"
You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"
"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,
"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"
Yeah right
He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.
You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen
he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,
and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.
"I saw him look at you before"
This time, you did let out a little snort
"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"
But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you
"I'm sorry to interrupt-"
Then fucking don't
"I just wanted to introduce myself"
Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior
"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy
"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"
As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists
This fucking guy-
"Hi pal"
Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off
"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"
The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea
"Oh, I didn't know you were married"
Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room
Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much,
How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?
It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious
"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"
"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him
"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"
Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye
"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"
Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it
He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement
"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"
Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly
"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"
"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder
You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place
"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement
"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""
Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head
"listen, man-"
"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"
Shawn let out a loud breath before responding
"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"
"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"
You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time
"that was a bit harsh"
Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist
"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked
Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength
"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck
"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing
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