#pedro pascal request

It had been meant as a joke. You, Pedro, Lux, Javiera and her sons were all around the table in the garden while the sun set orange around you. Nicolas and a few cousins and friends were around too but they were all lost in separate conversations.

You couldn't even remember how you all got to that topic- or if there even was a topic. The words just rang in your head.

So did the laughter.

Pedro's chuckle, head thrown back. You smiled along, giggled with Lux who was at your other side.

Later in the night, while drinks were being drunk and food was being ate, conversations being had when another comment was thrown. This time, by Bruno.

"We need more cousins!"

Maybe it was meant as a joke, a reference to the thirty-four first cousins Pedro and his siblings shared. But when Javiera wiggled her brows and Lux made a noise, you understood there was a serious inquisition under there.

"Oh no, no, no," said Pedro laughing, a dancing finger being waved at them. His other arm was thrown over the back of your chair as he laughed, eyes glittering. "No."

And you'd laughed, because everyone else was laughing and it was funny to think.

Quickly, it became anything but.

No. He'd laughed at the idea. Laughed at the idea of a ring or kids with his curls and your eyes.

You'd never spoken about it really, never referenced a wedding or a boy or a girl. But after three years together was it not even on his mind?

The thoughts came and went quickly and were replaced with more even quicker. The chat around the table went on. There was clinking of cutlery and glasses but there was clicking in your brain like it was all falling into place.

Pedro- who you danced in the kitchen with, walked in parks with Edgar with- didn't see those dances and walks in the future.

You had no idea hearing the words would hurt so much but they had. As if one of the steak knives had been lodged in your heart and twisted.

Pedro's arm was warm around your shoulder as he laughed at a joke his brother made. In instinct, his arm flexed around you, drawing you in as you tried to smile too. Suddenly his hold was too much.

Were you embarrassed? Was that the feeling crawling into your gut.

Here was his family, the people closest to him that you had always thought you counted as- after three years. Were you just another date to the party? A hand for a lonely soul to hold?

What was this?

Lux seemed to notice this, the small things always seeming big to her.

You felt her hand reach over to your knee, squeezing it. It stole your attention as you smiled her way, moving out of Pedro's arms and focusing on her. She accommodated you with a conversation.

But Pedro was still holding you, reaching out to you.

His arm was stretched so his hand could sprawl along your back, his fingers dancing in your skin. Any other time shivers of ecstasy would crawl your skin.

Now, you wanted him off.

Lux again squeezed your knee. "Don't think to much about it," she told you.

"About what?" you feigned ignorance but the pretending was not easy.

While everyone was busy talking, you slipped away from Lux, squeezing her shoulders and assuring her you were fine, totally fine.

Pedro saw you walk away. You hadn't said were you were going, hadn't squeezed his hand or gave him a flirtatious smile to indicate he should follow.

He was confused for a moment.

"Are you not going to ask her to marry you, Tío?" asked his nephew, Bruno.

Pedro looked back at him, a cheeky grin. "Of course I am. I'm not stupid."

He had the box, with the gold band of gems inside. He already had plans. He'd dreamt it all. He'd never shared those dreams with anyone but Lux because she would understand.

She was closer to age with you than he was and sometimes he was so scared about that fact.

He looked to Lux then but she looked at him weary, a crease in her brows.

Pedro looked back. It had been two minutes. You shouldn't be long.

Then, you were long.

Lux looked back to where you'd disappeared but Pedro was already on his feet, padding through the garden and into the house.

"Cariño?" he called out. You weren't in the kitchen. "Mi Cariño? Baby?" he looked around the house but there was not a whisper of you.

A prickle of fear nudged at him that lead him to the bathroom of his big sisters house. There was a shuffle inside-

The pull of tissue-

A sniff.

His knuckles wrapped gently.

"Sorry, just a minute."

"Baby?" he asked, "are you ok in there, huh? Need a hand?" he'd meant it as a joke, a cheeky try at getting into the bathroom with you. When he tried the door, it was locked.

"Just a second!" you called through, almost panicked.

He frowned. Had something happened?

He knew the sound of your voice after you'd cried, or when you were trying not to cry. He'd seen it before after hard days at work but he could coax your troubles out of you.

Had you not been fine down stairs? Had you not been laughing?

Fears flooded him, rendering him from pushing open the door when it swung open and you stood. Beautiful as ever, but changed.

Pedro managed to hold you. "Wo-Woah- hey, hey," he stopped you. "What's going on?"

You looked at him. Your eyes were red and your lips chapped and it was clear you were trying not to cry. "Nothing, nothing." Again you wanted to move but Pedro's hands were gentle as they lured you back into the bathroom.

"Has something happened? Where's your phone?" he wondered if something had been said, or if some news had got to you. But your phone wasn't in hand or around, it was at the table.

You shook out his hold and folded your arms over you. You weren't looking at him.

That little fear turned to stone cold dread at the bottom of his stomach. "Corazón?"

Pedro truly did not know what he had done. "You're worrying me now."

Your back was still to him as you collected yourself. He stood there, still and scared. Abruptly, you turned. It wasn't fair that you looked pretty when you cried as well as all of this. "When you look at me what do you see?"

He didn't think it was a trick question, so he spoke. "Intelligence. Beauty. Wonder. Everything I've ever wanted." He carefully stepped toward you.

"But what about what you want?" you asked, turning to him. "When I look at you I see wrinkles, and wedding anniversaries- silver, gold, all of them."

Pedro took a deep breath. He thought for a moment you'd found out about the box hiding in his coat in your room. Then he realised you hadn't. "Well, so do I.... eventually."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do, is this about my sister said?" he asked.

"It's about what you didn't say."

There was silence as Pedro realised you could walk out the door and not come back.

"Do you not see all that with me? One home instead of sharing each others apartments? I want to marry you but you don't?"

"Of course- of course I do," he walked over to you.

You let his hands warm you, hold you and sit you down on the edge of the bath tub. You felt stupid. You felt weak. You liked to be strong and to have Pedro relay on you, to be the perfect partner that never asked for anything more than love.

But if you were wasting time loving him how could you forgive yourself.

"Honey, you're young," he started with.

You looked up at him. "What?"

Pedro crouched in front of you. He cupped your hands and peppered them with kisses. "You're so young, you have more of a life ahead of you than I do."

You chuckled dryly at that. "You're fifty, not eighty, Pedro."

He smiled to, creases at his eyes. "Sometimes my knees feel it."

"Get up then."

"No, no, I-" he rested his head on where he held your hands. "I need you to listen. I always said I wouldn't go for someone younger, I thought I couldn't. Then you came around and changed my ways of course. I've wanted to marry you since our first date. But I wasn't gonna take that choice from you. I've been waiting. Waiting to ask."

He keeps his head bowed as you raise your gaze. "But I figured you loved me."

Pedro kissed your hands again. He moved and perched next to you on the edge of the tub. "It's quite a scary thing to love. I'm just handing you my heart and hoping it'll be ok," he chuckled. "And I know you would but ... would you believe it, this is the longest relationship I've had."

He'd never told you that. He'd mentioned an ex or two but never to any detail.

"And you're the last person I will ever date. The first and only I want forever. I'm ready to make a life, the whole thing."

You couldn't help but watch him like in a daze as his smile takes over his face.

"Kids. A girl and a boy, like my sister and I- more if it happens. We'd marry once we have kids so they can be at the wedding. We'd have dogs. Probably move out of the city, to the countryside, with a good school," he grinned. His head rested in the crook of your neck, voice low.

"I can't tell you the amount of times I've pictured our wedding, or our house. You and the kids visiting me on set. We'd come back to Chile every summer. They'd be close with their cousins, but their favourite aunt would probably be Lux."

You laughed, a tear sliding down your cheek. "Probably."

He laughed and kissed the space between your neck and shoulder. He pulled away eventually and looked at you. His hand, large and welcoming, held your cheek in hand, brushing back hair. "When I look at you, my love, I see the whole thing. But I was-truthly- always too scared to know if you wanted the same."

You nodded, eagerly. "I want it, Pedro. All you had to do was ask."

His grin split and his chest caved with a sigh of relief. He grabbed your hand and kissed it like you were a princess. "This wasn't exactly the place I imagined this happening."

You looked around the bath room, at the orange lights and little plant Javiera had. "As bathrooms go..." you trail off.

"Anywhere's perfect with you," said Pedro, nudging you with his head of curls.

"Sap."

"You had me worried for a second there, you know." His arm came around your hip, holding you.

You cringed, wiping at your eyes and desperately trying to salvage your makeup. "I'm sorry, ruined you seeing your family."

"Oh no, no, no Cariño," he brushed your hair from your face, leaning closer to you. "You've made me a very happy man."

Pedro kissed you, softly. A whisper of his love and devotion. It lasted until you were tugging at his shirt closer and until his hands were in your hair.

"We should-" you started against his lips. "Mhm, we should probably go before your sisters think they're getting nephews or nieces."

Pedro grinned, dragging his lips down your neck to nip at your earlobe. "Dirty," he helped you up and patted your backside. "You go down, I need to piss."

You made a disgusted noise before lingering at the door. "So everything's ok?" you checked, looking back to him. "I haven't, have I ruined this?"

His look of love was almost enough to tell you no, but you needed to hear it. "You could never. You just better say yes when I ask you to marry me!"

You left him to pee and returned to the table outside where most cousins had sat at.

Lux put a hand on your knee.

"Are you ok?" Javiera asked you when you took your seat.

Apparently Lux wasn't the only one to note his laughter at the questions.

"I'm ok," you shrug, "I'm emotional."

"You're allowed to be," Javiera assured you. "But my hermanito is not dumb."

It explained everything that needed to be.

Quickly, conversation started up again and you were laughing quietly. It had took a lot out of you, the talk and confession but still left you lighter.

You spotted Pedro walking back out, Nicolas under his arm as he patted him on the shoulder and nudged him away. You watched him, expecting a drop of a kiss on your head and for him to take the seat next to you.

Instead, Pedro dropped down in front of you again.

"Your poor knees!" you joked.

Everyone else grew louder.

Lux pulled out her phone. "Dios mío."

It’s no secret that Pedro spends a lot of time in LA when he’s not at home in New York, snaps of him plastered on the internet for the world to see; exposing his location within the day of him arriving. Privacy wasn’t a luxury you could afford, especially after his upcoming fame after his role as Joel Miller in the last of us, paparazzi just seemed to be everywhere you went, no matter if you were ordering a coffee, driving to a family members house or even going to the gym. Pedro was often apologetic about the lack of privacy and how intrusive the paparazzi could be, your life has changed drastically since being with Pedro. It was hard to acclimate to, being followed and having hundreds of photos of your face and personal life plastered on the internet and magazines worldwide. You had put your big girl pants on and learnt to deal with it, Pedro admired your resilience, even though the paparazzi were moderately tame up until today.

Today was one of those instances where you and Pedro were on your way to LA, a frequency that had become a fortnightly occurrence, the airport was nearly empty, a few people floating around, you try not to draw to much attention to yourselves regardless as you pull your luggage behind you, the few people that occupied the airport seemingly recognising Pedro despite the cap and sunglasses in an attempt to hide his face. He never minded the fans approaching him, in fact he loved it, as long as they were polite he would entertain them, what he didn’t need however was for someone to post online that he was in the airport, much against your luck that’s what happened when a particular fan approaches the both of you.

“Oh my god Pedro! Could we get a photo please, I’m such a huge fan!” A young girl asks him, his attempt of a disguise obviously failed, Pedro offers a polite smile, “yeah of course, thank you for your support.” You step to the side while she takes a selfie, not wanting to intrude on her moment, “I can totally take a picture for you if you like?” You offer kindly. The girl smiles and is trembling as she hands you her phone, you snap a picture of them together, Pedro wearing a genuine smile, his tired pose captured in the image on the girls iPhone.

You hand the iPhone back to her and she thanks you both, speed walking back to her friend that had been left by the seating area, showing her phone and seemingly posting it to the internet. Within minutes your phone is buzzing from a text notification, Lux sending you a screenshot of the post on Twitter from the girl, in her excited high she exposed your location to the world; worse off the paparazzi. You try to prepare yourself for the shit storm bound to happen.

“This isn’t good.” You mumble to yourself, a loud sigh leaves your lips that catches Pedro’s attention. “What’s wrong honey?” You simply turn your phone to him, he squints through his sunglasses and exhales loudly. “This is going to turn to shit.” He looks around the airport as you walk toward where you’ll be boarding your plane, about to stick your luggage on the belt carousel when you hear shouting and clamouring heading in your direction, that didn’t take long. Pedro turns your body away from the audience as to give you some privacy from the invasive images being snapped of you. He wished just once that the way he touched you would be kept private, he gentle hand on your back, his lips on your temple, nothing seemed sacred between you and Pedro despised it.

“Pedro, Pedro! Look here!”

“Please here look! Just one picture.”

“Someone move the girl out of the way.”

The paparazzi were screaming over each other, pushing and shoving their way closer to you with every second. Their desperation to get a new picture of Pedro outweighed any morals they had, if they had any at all. You struggle to make out their sentences and demands as they rush you, pushing you a few steps back, separating you from Pedro as they surround him in a half circle as they scream at him, each trying to gain his attention for their news report.

You begin to panic once you’re separated, never having death with paparazzi that act like this before, the noise and clamouring becomes too much to handle, it’s easy to become overstimulated when the screaming overlaps each other and the noise becomes havoc, you try to squeeze between the gaps to get back to Pedro, reaching out to him as you try to get his attention, to no avail. Pedro is polite in the way he’s shielding his eyes from the blinding flash as he calls your name, asking them to move out of the way so he can find you, unable to see you past the swarm of strangers. “Pedro!” You call out, voice breathless and strained as you panic, you’d never been around paparazzi like this before. “Please move out of the way so we can get on with our day.” Pedro pleas.

One man shoved past you harshly, seeing the gap you occupied in order to get the perfect picture of Pedro once he had taken his sunglasses off. You trip backwards at the force of his shoulder barging you, stumbling over your luggage that’s pulled tightly behind your legs and as if in slow motion, it takes a few seconds to register the pain in your head as it smacks into the floor as you fall onto the cold tile.

“Baby! Oh my god look at what you people have done! Move out of my way!” Pedro tries to shove his way past in an effort to get to you, seeing you being brutally shoved to the ground, groaning in pain set a fire inside of him.

You grunt in pain as you cradle your head, the area hot to the touch where it met the cold floor, the throbbing spreads to your ears leaving a ringing noise to squeal through them. “Oh fuck,” you mutter which comes out slurred, your own voice sounds unrecognisable, unable to stop the room as it spins around you, the dizziness sets a nausea in you that climbs from your stomach to your throat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people, have you got no dignity or respect?” Pedro snaps as he rushes towards you, seeing your face paler than normal and the pained look on your face as it scrunches. He kneels above you, your eyes seeing doubles as he comes into view. “Baby, are you okay?” His hand is cradling your head and one is waving in front of your eyes, you blink slowly, trying to gain a clearer view of your surroundings.

Pedro slowly helps you sit up, leaning against your luggage as the clicks of the camera are still shuddering throughout the ordeal, not caring that they’ve physically hurt you. Pedro’s face is red and a large vein in his neck and forehead begin bulging in his rage. “You fucking cockroaches, you did this to her. You can expect to hear from my lawyer for this stunt. Get that camera the fuck away from me.” Some of the men flinched, never seeing this side of Pedro. It was a first for you too; the indescribable rage he’d shown was a direct result of your injury at the hands of these people. The clicking and flashes of the camera finally stopped, your vertigo stops to a standstill and you’re brought back to your senses. “We’re sorry man, we just wanted some new pictures. I got a family to support you know.” The man who pushed you excused himself, the irritated tone didn’t go unnoticed, Pedro scoffs, “go and get a real fucking job. All you do is harass people it’s pathetic. Now get the fuck away from us before I call the police. You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass for this.”

“I’m sorry man, I can’t afford a lawsuit.” The man stutters as he realises Pedro is dead serious in his threat. Pedro helps you stand and you wobble on your feet, his arms hold you upright as he leads you away from the crowd. “I don’t give a fuck if you can afford it or not you spineless prick.”

“Come on baby, you need to get your head checked out.” The paparazzi that lingered snapped a few more shots of Pedro leading you to the front desk as they’re escorted out by security.

You’re sat down on a small chair, an EMT approaches you, kneeling down so you can see him.

“Hey, how’re you feeling? Heard you had a bit of a fall.” He starts, opening his medical pack as he observes you. “A fall? She was shoved by those heathens.”

“Its okay.” You turn to assure Pedro, but it was totally not fine, he just shakes his head at the way you’re still trying to make this out to be no big deal. “I think I’ll live. I still feel a little dizzy though.” The EMT takes out a torch, you blink harshly a few times as it blinds you, you try to adjust to the bright LED light. “Just follow this light for me. That’s it, now look up.” Your eyes follow the light lazily, seeing Pedro with a concerned expression on his face out of the corner of your eye, made you feel guilty for ruining his whole day.

“Your reaction is a bit sluggish. Just going to check your head now okay? Where does it hurt?” You nod and point to the area at the back of your head slightly to the left and wince as his gloved hands part your hair where the giant egg on your head was. Pedro’s hand sits on your knee, rubbing it to reassure and offer some support to you. The man gently prods the sore spot and you tense, holding your breath, a headache coming on at the sudden contact with the sore spot.

“It’s very possible you’ve got a concussion. I’d advise not getting on a flight until you’ve been cleared. It may take a few days.”

You sigh, “thank you for looking over me.”

“It’s no problem at all, look after yourselves,” the man farewells as he walks away. Your hands are aggressively rubbing your hands over your face in annoyance, you’ve just delayed Pedro’s flight and now you would have to stay home while he flies to LA for his interview.

“I’ll call a cab to get home, you should still go to LA. You can call me tonight once you land.” You offer weakly and Pedro frowns deeper, the stress lines on his face making him age a few years by the whole ordeal. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving you here after that, concussion or not. I’m staying with you honey.”

Before you can protest Pedro hushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I can rebook the flight and reschedule the interview for next week. I need to be here to make sure you’re okay. Don’t ask me to leave without you.”

“Okay.” You accept which helps Pedro relax, his face red from where the stress lines had been a semi permanent fixture on his face. “Let’s get you home baby. Gotta make sure my girl is looked after.”

Pedro calls a cab outside the airport and helps you into the car, the taxi driver loads your luggage for you. “They’re going to point the narrative about you being awful. You know that right?” You look up at him through your lashes, Pedro scoffs, “let them, they can get fucked.”

You didn’t even have time to close the door that the lights turned on. Surprised you turned around to see Pedro, at the end of the corridor, only wearing a shirt and briefs. He had messy hair and a tired expression suggesting that he was sleeping until you arrived. A wave of guilt went through your body.

“please tell me I didn’t wake you up” your voice sounded a little nervous.

“no I was just watching TV” you frowned a bit “okay I probably fell asleep” you chuckled. “Come here” he said opening his arms. You put your stuff down, kicked your shoes and went straight into his arms. You hummed.

“I missed you so much” he laid his head on top of yours, holding you tight.

“You have no I idea how much I missed you too” he said as he put one of his hands in your hair. You stayed like that for a few minutes.

“We should probably go to bed now, you’re tired” you said pulling away. Pedro cupped your face with his hands, looking at your features like it was the first time he saw them.

“I’m not tired anymore” he smiled before leaning in to kiss you. It felt like time stopped. His lips were finally on yours. Your heart started to beat faster than before, like it was your first kiss. You suddenly felt hot, already wanting more than just a kiss on the lips.

“good” you said as he pulled away, looking at his lips before staring at his eyes with a smirk. He smiled like he understood immediately how you felt, probably feeling the same. He grabbed your hand, pulling you with him to the living room where he stopped to turn off the tv. He then continued to the bedroom, still holding your hand.

Once you were in the bedroom, you were not letting go of each other, continuously kissing each other until you reached the bed. Your jeans and shirt were long gone on the floor, as well as Pedro’s. You were both in your underwear now. You lightly pushed him so that he would sit on the edge of the bed, carefully spreading his legs so you could stand in between.

“I missed you so so much” you said playing with his hair and caressing his face. His hands were on the back of your thighs.

“What did you miss exactly” he said in a lower voice. You stared at him for a second.

“You- you being close to me”

“Did you miss this?” He said as he squeezed your ass with both of his hands, earning a moan from you.

“Yes, yes I missed this” you let your hands on his shoulders, holding him as he left kisses on your stomach. “I missed your hands on my body” you closed your eyes as the feeling of him touching you was too good. “I missed feeling you”

“Hmm.. keep going”

“I missed having my hands in your hair” you paused, opening your eyes again to look at him. “I missed touching you” He pulled away, looking at you. His hands got lower behind your knees to make you sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling at him.

“Did you miss something else?” He smirked. He unclipped your bra with one hand, slowly taking it off of you, revealing your breasts. His hands immediately cupped them, also pulling you closer so he could kiss them.

“I missed so.. many things” you said between breaths. He was so good to you that just his touch made you skip breaths. “I missed the way you make me feel” his lips and tongue were working perfectly against your nipples, sending shivers through your entire body.

In a swift motion, by holding your left leg he laid you down on the bed. He lifted your ass a bit, grabbing your thong and slowly pulling it down. He threw it somewhere, not really caring. He was staring at you. He spread your legs, hands on your knees, he went down, kissing your thighs first.

“I missed the way you kiss my thighs every time before going down on me” he smiled as he looked at you again before finally going down on you. You gasped. You already started to breathe heavily. “I missed- oh god- I missed your tongue on my- my” you couldn’t even finish your sentence.

“on your..?” He asked “got to use your words mi amor” he teased

“on my clit” You said louder because your orgasm was coming. “Oh yes Pedro just- like- that!” You had your hands in his hair. You felt your orgasm getting closer and closer, taking over your entire body, making your legs shake.

He was licking and sucking your core just perfectly. His hands were holding your thighs, keeping your legs open just for him. You started to arch your back, arms falling on the side to help you stay still. Moans were leaving your mouth unconsciously, warning Pedro that you were about to come.

“Can you come for me cariño?” He said pulling away for a second, looking at you.

“If you keep going.. yes” you sighed and teased at the same time because he stopped right before you were about to feel the integrity of your orgasm. He smirked at your cockiness, but didn’t say anything, instead he went back in between your legs, finishing what he had started.

You didn’t know if it was because he stopped right before or not, but your orgasm hit you more intensely than it was about to before, making you release your juice into Pedro’s mouth. After a few seconds, you were still panting. He crawled back up to kiss you, not forgetting to leave a few sloppy ones on your stomach, breasts and neck.

“Is there something more your missed?” You were moving your hips a little bit because you still wanted more. You couldn’t help but smile at his question. He wanted you to say it.

“I missed the feeling of your dick inside of me” you said as you lowered your hand, starting to feel him through his briefs. “And I am not the only who’s missing something” you joked

“You’re not going to miss it for long” he said kissing you. He stood up, taking of his boxers. Oh yeah he missed you a lot too. Biting your lips you moved your finger, telling him to come closer. He didn’t hesitate a second. You cupped his face, kissing him all over his beard, ending on his lips.

“I missed you beard” you were running your fingers through it. “Still wet after you just ate me out” you chuckled, blushing just thinking about how a few seconds ago he was buried in between your legs. “I missed the butterflies in my stomach” you shyly admitted. His hand caressed your stomach.

“I missed your soft skin” he whispered as he went down to kiss your neck. “Smelling like vanilla” his left hand went down to your folds, slowly entering your vagina with two fingers. “I missed your sweet pussy” he said, moving his fingers before removing them. “That tastes like heaven” he added, licking them. You but your lips, feeling the heat coming to your cheeks.

Both your hands on his hips, you pulled him a bit closer, wanting to feel him entirely against your skin. He grabbed his dick, sliding it against your wet core, before slowly entering you. You both gasped and moaned at the same time, knowing that you extremely missed this feeling. Adjusting for a bit, he started with slow movements.

But it didn’t take long for you to demand more. You waited too long, you wanted to reach your climax as he was deep inside of you. His thrusts were getting faster already, each time going as deep as he could. His head was resting against your shoulder, leaving kisses from time to time. You had your hands in his hair, gripping onto it as your orgasm was coming.

His left hand was holding your waist, getting a little higher to hold your breast. His right hand started to work on your clitoris, adding a new sensation that sent you to heaven right away. It was too much at the same time and yet it wasn’t enough. Your moans were a lot louder, screaming his name. Pedro lowered his head a bit, perfectly placed to kiss your right breast that was left untouched right now. He left little bites around it, not forgetting your nipple, sending shivers that went along perfectly with your orgasm.

You were soon at your climax, your screams getting higher, hinting Pedro that you were there. And he was very close too. The feeling of your walls clenching around his dick was what made him join you. You were arching your back to the feeling, head falling behind, so Pedro’s left arm enveloped you and held you tight, because your arms weren’t enough. He was coming right after you.

You were both breathing heavily at the same time, creating one same and unique movement. Still holding you, he left a big sloppy kiss between your breasts before he pulled his head back to look at you. His left hand reached the back of your neck to push your head a bit so you could look at him too. You smiled at each other.

“I missed how much I want you” you said staring at him, feeling hot and sweaty. You could feel your skin sticking to his. He pulled out, leaving you feeling empty. You both laid down next to each other. “You know there’s one thing I can’t miss” you turned on your side to face him. He looked confused. “I can never miss how much I love you. I love you so so much” he immediately went to kiss you. The kiss quickly deepened into a more languorous one.

“You have no idea how much I love you too” he said, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You both laid down again, resting your head on his chest.

This whole time you thought your mother was most likely dead or if she were alive, she was alone in some other country probably traveling. You didn’t ever imagine that she could have started another life. You hadn’t brought it up to your therapist, mostly because they’ve been trying to help you cope with other issues in your life. It was mostly how you felt about constantly having to travel from place to place or not having your father around as much, it meant a lot of journaling. Plus, if you told your therapist, it meant telling your father and you didn’t know how he’d react or if he already knew. 

What if he already knew. You hadn’t thought of that, it was another scenario that could happen, another scenario you don’t know if you can handle. 

You heard the front door open and then close, “I’m home!” You heard your dad call out. 

You sighed to yourself, you had ditched another day of school, but luckily for you your dad left for meetings before you even got up. Meaning that it was easy to ditch. In fact, you hadn’t gone to school at all the past week. 

Pedro was met with silence, he shrugged, “probably studying,” he muttered to himself. He made his way over to the kitchen to get dinner started. He wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he knew a thing or two. 

You made your way down the hall, “There she is!” Pedro said as he heard your footsteps get closer, “Hey, I was thinking, how does spaghetti sound tonight?” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of apple juice. 

“Sure,” you said with a shrug. You poured yourself a cup of apple juice, putting away the bottle right after. 

“Long day at school?” You gave him a nod. “Alright, well, go ahead and rest. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” You felt horrible for lying to him. He had thought everything was getting better and that you were beginning to feel happier, but it was all just a lie. It was a mask. 

** mentions of self-harm begin here **

You walked back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. The lying, the feeling of abandonment, everything, it just felt like it was all tumbling down. You pulled up your sleeves, revealing the linear cuts that you had done to yourself. It started off with something small, hitting your hands against something when you were mad, but the pain felt kind of nice. 

Not kind of, it did feel nice. It took away the pain of everything in your mind for a moment and you liked it. You liked your mind being peaceful for just a moment. But those moments only lasted a few seconds and you needed something that would last longer. You had saw some girls with some cuts on their wrists at school, it wasn’t till one day you aksed one of the girls what they were while you both were in the bathroom. The girl seemed a bit embarrassed but you were genuinely curious. She explained what they were, but she didn’t explain it further. 

For weeks you couldn’t help but think about it, but the thought of hurting yourself in that way seemed scary. What if you went too deep or if you got caught? But a week ago, when your dad had to work late, you felt yourself drowning in your thoughts. Hitting yourself against your bedframe wasn’t working. That was the night you first self-harmed, you felt lucky that the weather was getting cold again so hiding your scars was easy. 

Your dad played some music while he began to boil the pasta. Your cat watched from the other side of the counter, he knew his boundaries and Pedro seemed to like the company. Pedro began to slowly dance to the rhythm of the song playing until it was cut off by the sound of ringtone, “That’s not part of the song,” he grumbled as he grabbed his phone. 

The number looked familiar, he hesitated on answering, “Could be important or a scam,” he muttered. He shrugged to himself before answering the phone, “hello?” 

“Hi! This is Linda from the JFK High School, may I speak to Y/N Pascal’s father?” 

“This is he speaking,” Pedro responded. He had no clue why your school would be calling.

“Hi, Mr. Pascal! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past few days, it wasn’t until we looked through our files that we realized we had an old phone number.” 

“Ah, yes, I changed my number. Probably should’ve updated you guys on that,” is that it? He thought. 

“It’s quite alright, but the real reason why we’ve been trying to get ahold you is because we’ve noticed that Y/N hasn’t been attending her classes for the past week.” 

Pedro stopped what he was doing, placing the wooden spoon he had in his hand down on the counter, “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.” 

“I’m afraid not. Her teachers are beginning to worry now that her grades have been slipping and she hasn’t been showing up. We were wondering if maybe the family went on vacation and someone forgot to notify the school?”

“N-No, we’re not on vacation,” Pedro looked towards the hall. 

“Well, is there any reason why she hasn’t been in school?” 

“I-I don’t know, I thought she had been going to clases this whole time.” 

“Will she be there on Monday?” 

“She’ll be there Monday,” he stated. 

“It is my obligation to let you know that if the student doesn’t show up for school for another full week that the school will revoke certain privileges for Y/N.” Pedro knew the consequences of you missing school, it could also mean jail time on his case. 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this. Thank you, Linda.” 

“Of course,” Linda said before hanging up. 

Pedro placed his phone back on the counter, he then shut off the burners on the stove. “What do I do, gatito?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know what to say or ask even. He let out a deep sigh before making his way down the hall. 

He knocked on your door, “Mija, puedo entrar?” (Can I enter?)

You opened the door, “dinner is ready already?” you asked with a confused expression on your face. 

Pedro felt his heart break, there you stood, his little girl, in front of him. He never expect you to miss school and not tell him, it only meant one thing. You were lying to him about everything. “No,” he said softly. He was trying so hard to remain calm, but there was a part of him that wanted to yell and ask why the hell you werent going to schoo. Then there was that nurturing side of him that just wanted to ask you why you weren’t going to school. Both had the same question, just a different way of approaching it. “Can I come in?” 

You shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. You watched as he sat on the edge of your bed, “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent truthful with me, okay?” He asked

You chuckled slightly, expecting some dumb question, “okay.” 

“Mija, no estoy bromeando horita, necesito que me escuches.” (I’m not joking right now, I need you to listen). 

Oh fuck, he knows, you thought. You gave him a nod, “did you miss school this past week?” You nod again. Pedro took in a deep breath, “Why?” 

You shrugged, “papi, it’s no big deal.” 

“No big deal!?” He yelled as he stood up. “Mija, do you know I can go to jail because you haven’t gone to school!? Do you have any idea how stupid that is? Que te estabas pensando, huh!?” (What were you thinking?)

You felt tears well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry! I just didn’t feel like going!” 

“If you don’t feel like going then you tell me! How come you didn’t tell me?” You remained silent, Pedro let out a deep sigh, trying to calm down again. “What’s going on, Y/N??” 

“Nothing,” you whispered. 

“No me dices que nada esta pasando, por que tu no te comportas como asi. Tu eres mi hija, y yo queiro saber que esta pasando.” (Don’t tell me that nothing is happening because you don’t behave like this, You’re my daughter and I want to know what is going on.) 

“Nada esta pasando!” You yelled, “Deja me en paz!” You walked out of your room. (Nothing is happening, leave me alone) 

“Dejarte en paz?!” He followed you out. “What is going on with you?!” 

“Would you just leave it alone? I didn’t go to school this week and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll go to school on monday, just leave it alone!” 

“I’m not just gonna brush this off, this is serious, Y/N! Missing school for a week? You can’t just do that! So, what is going on?” 

“Ugh! I don’t have to tell you every fucking thing okay?!” You yelled. You believe that this was probably the first time you ever yelled at your dad. The first time you had ever gotten in such a big argument. Didn’t mean that you two didn’t argue, you argued but it never led to a screaming match. Not like this. 

Pedro stood there in disbelief, “Y/N M/N Pascal, I am your father and I demand to know what the hell is going on with you.” 

You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t just blurt out that you found your mother; but not only did you find her, you also found her new family. You couldn’t tell him that you felt replaceable, that even he was replaceable, at least to your mother. You just couldn’t. “Nothing is going on,” you said. 

“You’re grounded,” he said in defeat. 

“Fine,” you said as you began to make your way back to your room. 

“For two months,” he added. “I’ll need your phone and your game consoles.” 

You stopped in the middle of the hall. You were doing this for him, you wanted to keep his happiness even at the cost of your own, “Fine.” You walked into your room, slamming the door behind you. 

“Slam the door and I’m taking your T.V.” 

You groaned in annoyance, “Fuck you,” you spat. You had instantly regretted saying it. Pedro stood there for a second, in shock mostly. He felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes, he wasn’t going to take your T.V. as a matter of fact, he didn’t want to take any of it away. He partially said it in hopes that you’d crack and tell him what was going on. 

He heard the cat meow at his feet, he looked down, “I think I’m loosing her, gatito,” he whispered before turning around and making his way down the hall and back to the kitchen. 

~~ 

Days went by, you didn’t speak to your dad all weekend. Spending most of your time in your bedroom, your mind was all over the place and you had self harmed some more. It felt like the more you did, the more you craved it or the more your mind raced, the more you felt the need to have that feeling. 

You didn’t eat much either, for some reason you just couldn’t think about eating. Your stomach didn’t feel hungry either so you snacked on small things. When you came home from school on Monday, your dad was in the kitchen prepping for dinner. You walked past him, not saying a word. The tension was thick, someone could cut a knife through it. 

Pedro didn’t say anything to you when you walked past him to grab something to drink, even though he wanted to say a million things. He had so much to talk to you about, so many exciting things, but he was stubborn and you were too. 

When you didn’t come out for dinner, he left a plate at the foot of your door, knocking to let you know, just like he did for past two days and just like you did, you’d wait a few minutes before grabbing your plate. You would leave it on your desk, hoping that maybe you’d feel some sensation of hunger. Yet, just like the other full plates of food beside it, you’d never touch it. 

“Just give her some time,” Javiera said into the phone. Pedro had called her Monday afternoon while he was out for a drive. 

“How much time?” he asked, his voice strained from crying. He had called her up crying about twenty minutes ago, and like the big sister she was, she tried her best to console him through the phone. 

“A few more days, she’ll crack soon enough,” she said hopeful. “You’re a good dad, Pedro.” 

“I sure as hell don’t feel like it right now.” 

“I know,” she began, “all parents feel that way one day or another.” 

“I just… I wish I knew what happened you know? Why did she all of a sudden just become this totally different person?” 

“Teenagers,” she expressed. “Don’t you remember how you were?” 

“Don’t get me started,” he chuckled. 

“You were the worst!” Pedro knew she was right. He had given his parents a hard time when he was a teenager. “It’ll get better, I promise.” 

Tuesday comes and goes and so does Wednesday. By Wednesday night you ate some of your dinner, but you still couldn’t stomach to eat all of it. You only ate because of how dizzy you felt all day. Thursday comes and goes, you caved into your cravings more as each day passed, your arm was full of scars, it felt raw to the touch. 

You cried yourself to sleep most nights. Friday night Pedro went to knock on your door, only to hear you crying. He knocked softly, but was only met with “Go away.” He felt so defeated, he wanted this silent treatment to be over with. He wanted his baby girl back and he wanted to help you with whatever you were going through. He knocked again, “Go away!” He shook his head, opening the door, you were laying in bed, your arms covering your face. 

“Mija,” he said softly. 

“Please, just go away!” you yelled. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it anymore,” he began to say, he noticed the uneaten food on your desk. His heart sunk, looking back over at you, taking in how you looked. He walked over to the desk, some of the food began to develop mold. He let out a shaky breath, walking over to the bed, “Baby girl,” he said. Pedro noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual long sleeve, for a while he was beginning to worry that you had begun to harm yourself because you were always wearing long sleeves. 

It relieved him to see you in a short sleeve for once, he inched closer, you still hard your arms covering your face. You were too focused on what was on your mind to realize that your father was near you and that you weren’t wearing a long sleeve. Even if you had realized it, it would be too late. 

Pedro spotted something red near your wrists, but your arms were in a position where he couldn’t see your whole wrists. Yet, the small amount he did see was enough to send him in a panic. Pedro was soft with his touch, he grabbed your hand gently, pulling it towards him so he could see your wrists. 

You quickly pulled away your arm, holding it close to your chest as you sat up in the bed, “get out,” you said through clenched teeth. 

“How long have you been doing that?” Your dad asks, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Get out!” you yelled. 

“How long!?” tears fell from his eyes, he stood up from the bed. “How long, Y/N?” he asked again. 

“Dad, I don’t want you to cry,” You said as you looked at the ground, “Just please get out.” 

“No! I’m not gonna-” he inhaled, “you’re not shutting me out.” 

“Please,” you begged as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You got up from the bed, walking over to the door and opening it. “Get out,” you begged. 

He shook his head, “Why?” he cried, “Why would you do that to yourself?” You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, “And don’t say it’s the cat, because that’s too many for the cat. It’s too clean. I thought you were getting better.” 

You looked at your dad, you could see the pain you were trying avoid. The heartache you hated to see, “I’m not better,” you confessed. “I’ve never gotten better.” 

“What?” He asked in disbelief. 

“I didn’t get better, okay?” You said loudly, holding back the sob that was scratching at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out. “Is that what you want to hear?” 

“You think I want to hear that my baby girl never got better?” You remained silent. He walked over to you, taking your had to look at the marks again. He sniffled, “My beautiful baby girl,” he sobbed, “why would you do this?” 

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a deep shaky breath, letting the sob take over you. “I couldn’t handle it anymore, it’s all too much, okay? It’s so loud in here,” you gestured towards your head. 

Pedro couldn’t handle seeing you cry, he pulled you in, feeling you tightly wrap your arms around his body. “Why?” he kept asking. 

“I was trying to protect you,” your dad let go of the embrace. 

He placed his hands on your face, “Mija, I should be the one protecting you, Okay? Whatever it is that you’ve been holding in, I can handle it. You never have to worry about me.” 

You wanted to spill everything, it was like the dam inside was breaking and this was just the little drop of water to break it. “I found her,” you confessed. 

He looked at you with a confused expression, “who?” 

“My mom,” you inhaled, “I found her,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. Pedro was in disbelief, she was alive, for the longest he just kind of accepted that she passed away. 

“That’s what you were trying to protect me from?” He questioned. 

You shook her head, “That’s not the best part,” you began. “You know what the best part is?” You began to walk back over to your bed. You let out a small sob, “The best part is that I also found out that we’re replaceable.” Pedro watched as you sat on your bed, it pained him to see you in such dismay. It also pained him to hear the news that your mother was alive, she was alive and had another family. “The woman we both thought was trying to protect us from herself, is out there with a family of her own-” 

“Cariño,” your dad tried to interrupt. 

“I have a brother and sister that I don’t even know! And she’s in these pictures laughing with them, she’s at birthday parties and soccer games,” you took in a shaky breathe. 

“Y/N,” He took a couple steps towards you. 

“That should be me, dad,” There was the drop of water to break the dam. “It should be us,” you sobbed. Pedro quickly pulled you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder, “It should be us,” you sobbed. 

“I know, Mija,” he whispered as tears fell from his eyes, “I know.” He let you cry it out for a few minutes, mostly because at that moment he didn’t know what to say exactly. How he should console you after finding out something no one should ever experience. His mind wandered, how could someone create another family when they left one behind? He thought if it were him, he wouldn’t be able to do it. He knew it would always be in the back of his mind that he had abandoned another family. 

Did it wander in the back of her head? Or did she just not care? 

Pedro felt so angry just thinking about it. He wanted to track her down and just yell into the void. She was the love of his life or so he thought. He had considered her the love of his life, hopeful that one day she’d realize what she left behind and come back. She wasn’t coming back, though and now he knew that. Now he had to console you and find a way to show her what she missed out on. 

Pedro let go of the embrace, taking your face in his hands once again. His thumb gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down your face, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking at you again. “We don’t need her,” he started to say. 

“But-” 

“I know, Mijita. It hurts,” you nod, “She has no idea what she’s missing out on, Mijita. Her kids have no idea what a horrible person she truly is as fucked up as that sounds, it’s true.” He gave you a smile through the tears, “The only thing that matters is that she gave me you, my beautiful baby girl. That’s all I know of her, she gave me you and she was nothing else.” 

“You don’t regret being with her?” 

Pedro could never regret it, “No, because then I wouldn’t have you. I can’t imagine my life without my little girl. I’m sorry you don’t have a mom in your life, but not every girl has multiple mom figures in their lives.” It was true, you had your tia and some of your dads close friends. Your dad let go of your face, he took a hold of your wrist. “But this,” he started to say, tears welled up in his eyes again, “Oh, baby girl,” he sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried. 

“No, no, no,” he pulled you in for a quick embrace, before letting go, “we’re going to work on this together okay?” You nod, “I can help, we’ll make more appointments with your therapists, we’ll find healthy alternatives, and we’ll overcome this.” He choked back a sob, “but I never want to see you harming yourself again, please promise me that?” You remained silent. 

You weren’t sure if you could promise it, mostly because you were addicted to the way it made you feel. “Prometeme, Y/N.” (Promise me)

“I-I’ll try,” you finally said. Pedro didn’t want to push it, if trying was what he could get, then it was enough for him. He could work with trying. Trying meant putting the effort and it meant to him that you still wanted to live. 

“Trying is all I need,” he said. “I can’t lose you. Know that you have people that love you.” 

You looked up at your dad in realization, you never realized how much it could impact your dad. How self harm was always correlated with darker actions. Darker actions that your father had a past with. This time, you pulled him into an embrace, “you won’t lose me,” you said.  “I can promise you that.” 

He let out a relieved sigh, “we’ll have to talk about the food on your desk too.” 

“I’m sorry,” you began. “I just-” 

“No, I know.” You didn’t have to say more, he knew what it was like. To be too much in your mind to even eat. He understood, “let’s get you something to eat, hmm?” 

You nod, watching as he got up from the bed, “I love you, papi.” 

“I love you too, Mija,” he gave you a small smile. You got up from the bed, following him into the kitchen. He ordered you your favorite take out, once the food had arrived you both took the food to the living room. 

Pedro glanced over at your wrist from time to time, his heart sank every time, but he was going to get you better help. Over time, the cuts will heal and they’ll just be white little memories of the battles you’ve dealt with, but Pedro knew he never wanted you to feel like you’ve hit rock bottom. From here on out, he was going to try his hardest to make sure you were your healthiest, physically and mentally.

He placed a small kiss on your temple, “love you,” he said softly. 

You gave him a smile, “Love you too, dad,” you said, focusing your attention back on the television. You both knew the journey from here on out wasn’t going to be easy, it wasn’t said aloud, but it was like a silent acknowledgment. But eventually, it’ll be okay because pain was just temporary.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01  @tracysnookok  @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @twkobii

The last thing he expected for a Tuesday at 8am was to be ass naked on a cold esthetician table, hard as a rock. All for a stupid role about stupid Olympic divers.

Because your hands are so gentle, which is the sexiest fucking contrast to the sting your wax leaves as you rip it from his fuzzy asscheeks. 

His breath leaves him in little whimpers as your wax stick gets closer and closer to his entrance, and he’s drooling from his mouth and his cock at this point. 

Which is fine, since he’s on his stomach. And maybe he’s grinding into the medical grade sanitary paper that covers your waxing table, and trying to disguise his squirming as discomfort. 

It would’ve worked, too, if he didn’t have to wax every inch of the front of his body as well.

But now you’re telling him to flip over, and he doesn’t want to move. Any other time he’d be dying to get his cock out and swing it around. But you’re just trying to do your job, and here he is, leaking onto your poor little waxing table, soiling it.

With a heaved sigh, he rolls onto his back, clambering all awkwardly on the small space. You’re turned away from him, preparing the next glob of hot wax, and his cock throbs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and shameful, and you barely hear him.

“What’s that?”

Dieter can’t say it again. He just grumbles and covers his eyes with his arm. 

“Oh. Look at you, you poor thing.”

Dieter’s blood runs cold at the sound of your teasing voice. Well, all the blood that isn’t in his dick. The dick that’s now dribbling another stream of pre-cum as it jerks in the air. 

“I didn’t mean to,” he tells you.

And he looks so pretty, with his wide brown eyes and his flushed face. But he’s anything but innocent, and you know it. 

“Did you not, Mr.Bravo? Was I just imagining you humping my table like a bitch in heat, then?” 

You watch his chest expand with a gasp, see the wheels in his head turning for a desperate attempt at getting him out of this unscathed. 

He’s going to be fun to play with, you think. 

“I’m so sorry. I’ll uh, I’ll go, and I’ll make sure you’re paid triple for the trouble— I can do this myself at home.”

He starts to move to climb down from the table, but you don’t let him. Your gloved hands press down firmly on each of his thighs respectively. His prick bobs and sputters at the contact, and you’re sure your grin is devious.

“Nuh-uh, you aren’t going anywhere, Dieter. You want to act like a needy whore, then I’ll treat you like one.”

There’s a split second where apprehension gets the best of you, and Dieter freezes up, and you think maybe all the debauched tabloid entries you’ve read about him aren’t true at all. Maybe you’ve made a horrible mistake, and he isn’t a completely unhinged, freaky sex fiend at all. 

But then his body goes lax and his eyes close as he whimpers. 

“Yes, yes please.”

You huff out a sigh of relief and let your hands smooth up and down his thighs. 

“There you are, good boy. You know your place, don’t you?” 

“Mmm-hmm!” 

He nods his head and looks back at you with not a sliver of an iris to be found. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me, then.” 

He’s so eager to comply, crinkling up the paper on your table as he flips to his stomach, then eases up onto his hands and knees. 

His back arches as he hangs his head between his shoulders, and his freshly waxed ass is gorgeously on display, all for you. 

“For such a naughty thing, you’re being awfully good for me now,” you say, swiping your gloved fingers along the back of his thigh. 

He shivers, and goosebumps break out all over his smooth skin, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life.

“I’ll be so good, promise,” he whispers. 

You hum and squeeze the meat of his asscheek. He pushes into your hand and keens, and you watch another clear bead pour from his straining cock onto the crumpled paper underneath. 

Your other hand reaches up to grab him and spread, and you’re filled with awe as his puckered hole flutters at the attention. 

“Oh god,” he sighs, slumping slightly, balancing himself on one hand as the other makes a valiant effort to wrap around his own prick. 

It falls just short, though, when you grab his wrist and pin it behind him. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” 

The noise that works from his throat is pitiful, defeated and impatient and pleading. 

“N—no, no, you didn’t. I’m sorry.” 

You squeeze his wrist harder, and watch his dick bounce wildly between his legs, begging silently for any friction at all. 

“That’s what I thought,” you coo. 

His breaths are coming in more ragged, now, and his hips wiggle with desperation. Having such an influential, powerful man reduced to a puddle under you rministrations sends you reeling. Mad with power. 

So, you throw caution to the wind, and hawk a mouthful of spit directly onto his hole. 

He jolts and gasps and his face falls against the table as his arm gives out on him. His ass tilts up even more, and he spreads his legs farther apart and whimpers as your saliva drips down past his taint and onto his heavy sac. 

“Please let me come,” he begs, “I need to come.”

“Aww,” you mutter, “so eager.” 

He gulps another lungful of air, stuttered and wet, and you realize he’s crying, little droplets streaming from the corners of his eyes and wetting your table. All of a sudden, you find sympathy. 

“You can come,” you say. 

He tries valiantly to reach for his aching prick, but your grip on his wrist doesn’t waver. 

“Ah-ah,” you tut, “you can come, but you’re not touching your cock.”

He groans, and at first you think he’s defeated, but his dick throbs between his legs and sputters another few dribbles. The paper below him is transparent now, soaked and soiled from pre-come and drool and tears and your own spit. You want to see him come so badly, make an even bigger mess, and he doesn’t seem very far off. 

His legs are shaking and his hips rock back and forth absentmindedly, searching for anything he can get and coming up short. 

So you relent, and you help him along. Your gloved finger presses against his hole and it damn near sucks you in, greedy and ready. 

“Oh god, oh shit.” 

You feel the warmth of him draw in the tip of your finger as the ring of muscle spasms and relaxes. You enter so easily, a smooth, slow slide until you’re knuckle deep and Dieter is rocking his hips back and forth to urge you to move. You press in and out in minute motions, barely drawing back before diving in again. 

And then you curl your finger, and he yelps, and his legs tense up. 

“Have I– have I been good?” 

His little hiccup of breath is sweet, pathetic music to your ears and you let out a satisfied hum. 

“You’ve been very good for me, Dieter.”

“Yeah– fuck. Please–”

“Come for me, make a mess for me. Be a good boy and come.”

You can feel it before you’re even done speaking, his tight hole clenching around your finger. His legs tremble with the force, pulled taught and strained, and his groan almost sounds pained as he finally releases. 

His cock jerks against nothing as rope after rope of his seed sprays your table, each streak just a little less forceful than the last, until the final few drops weakly ooze from his spent cock. 

He whines when you slowly slip your finger from him, and curls into himself when your hands leave his body. 

You round the table to look him in the eyes, sleepy and sated and red from the tears. 

“Okay?” you ask, disposing of your soiled gloves. 

He sighs, and you thread your fingers through his sweaty curls. 

“I’m good,” he tells you with a hoarse voice, “thank you. For uh– For all of that.”

You give him a sweet smile, and he returns it, so vulnerable here, curled up into a ball, shivering from his cooling sweat, and lax. 

You find your handy box of tissues behind you, and set the on the table beside him. 

“Now clean yourself up and we can finish your wax.” 

Dieter watches in disbelief as you leave the room with a nonchalance that makes him burn.

You knew you messed up coming to an afterparty with you best friend, Pedro. You knew you would end up drinking too much and having too much fun, you knew you would pretend for a night that Pedro was yours and things would be everything you ever wanted in the morning, but it was never, it was always you and Pedro sharing the same bed, fully clothed from the night before, both with pounding heads and hungover. A vomit bucket had been placed on your side on the bed, who did it you were never sure, but it was almost routine for you two to hangout afterwards.

Which is why you were reluctant to join Pedro this evening, a bar, with drinks and dancing, it was inevitable and you could hardly bare it anymore. The pain was too much for you to handle, being Pedro's friend was too much for you when you had moments when you acted like a couple. The moments like this where you were by his side, it was insufferable, you found yourself wanting more than friendship, not daring to speak a word no matter how much it hurt.

“You look incredible, give me a spin gorgeous.” You oblige, cheeks flushed hot and red at Pedro’s praise. He takes your hand in his, holding it above his head as he spins you, looking you up and down to get the full picture of you.

Your curves on full display in the dress that clung to you, your hips accentuated had Pedro feeling feral, like something was going to overcome him and he was just going to pounce-he could hardly contain the way his cock twitched at the sight of you.

“Alright, alright. We better get a move on or we’ll be late.” Encouraging him out the door, you give him a gentle push as you lead him out of your apartment, the feeling of his broad shoulders under your fingertips had your hand lingering a moment longer than it should’ve. God he looked incredible, the suit fit him perfectly, his tummy slightly hung over his pants as the white dress shirt underneath was tightly tucked into his dress pants.

His hair was soft and unruly as the curls sit on his head, a masterpiece thanks to your fingers making quick work of his messy hair and some styling mousse.

He opens the door for you, like a complete gentleman, little do you know his eyes are stuck to the picture of your ass bending over to get into his car. Fuck he really has to get a grip of himself.

He follows the gps instruction, coming to a stop at a red light, you realise he’s starring at you, your ears tingle at how hot they feel under his watchful eyes.

“Do I have something on my face?” You question anxiously, pulling down the reflector to check in the mirror if there was something he could be starring at, wanting to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“No, you just look beautiful.” You feel the ache in your heart forming before he finishes the sentence, realising how much you love this man; it was difficult, it almost felt forbidden. Pedro didn’t do relationships, you knew you were absolutely fucked from the moment you met him.

“Hey, everything okay?” You hum in surprise as he pulls you out of your own head, not realising how much your thoughts had consumed you. His brown orbs are full of concern as your mood changes after his compliment, he thinks he’s done something wrong.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got some things on my mind.” His hand rests on your forearm, offering a gentle caress to keep you grounded, with him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He pulls up to the valie parking, the car still running as the man dressed in a tuxedo takes Pedro’s car keys.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just enjoy our evening, sorry for being a bummer.”

Pedro can’t help the frown that pinches his eyebrows together, he wanted to help, to hold you, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this, so distant and far from the woman he knew you to be. He sees the way you push it all back internally, like putting a half read book back onto the shelf to be finished later, the fake smile that sits on your lips as you enter the venue.

The bar is full of people you know, the purple lights shining bright on your matte purple dress, the colour looks incredible on your skin as you approach the bar to ask for a drink. The drink is slid across the bar and you take a sip, scrunching your face up in disgust but swallow the cool liquid anyway, it warms your insides in a way that’s addicting, so you throw your head back and finish what’s in the glass. You ‘ah’ as you set the glass down and order another, confidence through the roof as your empty stomach consumes the calories from the drink.

The lack of food in your stomach had the alcohol settling in your blood stream too quickly, it went straight to your head, feeling a little woozy as you’d consumed the second drink. The tall glass full of nothing but alcohol, your tolerance was below average and you mindlessly leave Pedro at the bar, trying to forget about the love you have for him. Tonight you were going to have fun.

You wished you could’ve prepared yourself for the night ahead of you.

Things were going great for most of the night, casual talk with some family here and there, after your sixth drink in one hour you were beginning to regret not taking more time in between. The last of the liquid slips down your throat, and for the first time since you arrived together, you see Pedro watching you.

A familiar tune rings in your ears through the blaring speakers that would leave you with a headache tomorrow. But for now, that tune set something slight in you, you set the empty glass down on a nearby table, your body moving to the beat. This song did things to you, reminded you of him. You decide to put on a show for him, since he was watching and you were absolutely out of your mind giddy and drunk.

Damn baby all I need is a lil' bit

A lil' bit of this, a lil' bit of that

Get it crackin' in the club when you hear the shit

Drop it like it's hot, get to workin' that back

You keep eye contact as you roll your hips to the music, feeling completely yourself as you amerce yourself and give in to the music completely.

You don’t feel him at first, once you realise he’s behind you, you smirk mischievously with an idea that’s probably not a good idea, but fuck it. He was looking so fine and this song had you feeling some kinda way.

Girl, shake that thing, yeah, work that thing

Let me see it go up and down

Rotate that thing, I wanna touch that thing

When you make it go 'round and 'round

His hands find your hips, guiding you closer to him as you shake your ass skilfully, grinding on him teasingly, you look back to him and his hair is messy, eyes are dark and he’s got one hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, a shy grin on his lips as he enjoys himself and the sight of you on him.

The crowd that’s surrounded you was cheering, their voices and noise in the back of your mind as you stand straight and turn to face Pedro, wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms around your waist as you and he work in sync to move against each other.

I wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit

Take 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit

Get to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit

Get to lickin' it, a lil' bit

Pedro’s hand caress your hips, running them up and down your curves, dark eyes watching you intensely as you show off for him, your confidence attracting him to you tenfold. The way your body moved effortlessly, the way you held eye contact with him and ran a hand down his chest seductively had him weak in the knees.

Your hands make quick work to unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt, never minding the people around you that are videoing the interaction, you felt like you and Pedro were the only two people in the room. His hands caress your ass, grabbing a handful in a state of his own drunken haze and need for more of you. He pulls you closer, you’re flush against his sweating body and you feel his rock hard cock straining in the confines of his pants.

You feel yourself soaking your perfect lace panties as his hands guide your ass to grind against him, his eyes breaking contact with your own to lean his forehead down onto your shoulder, kissing the bare skin in butterfly kisses, licking a stripe up your neck never reminding the sweat.

“C’mon baby you’re killing me, need you do fucking bad.” You gasp at his full transparency, regardless of your flirty interaction on the dance floor the song fades out, he still holds you against him, not wanting to lose this moment with you.

“Let’s go home handsome. I’ll take care of you.” He gives you one last squeeze of your ass and rushed through the farewells of the crowd, you walk closely in front of him to hide his indiscretion. Once you’re outside, the cool air has your teeth chattering as you wait for an Uber Pedro had ordered, he would worry about the car later.

You feel a warmth embracing your shoulders, soft material clinging off your body. You turn to Pedro and see he’s given you his suit jacket, left in his white long sleeve dress shirt that’s still tucked into his suit pants. He suddenly seems shy as your eyes scan him up and down, pausing when you see his soft tummy slightly overhanging his dress pants, your hands caress him in a silent praise, but verbalise it anyway, knowing he’s insecure about it.

“Fucking love your tummy, you know that?” You’re swaying, he’s convinced that it’s just because you’re drunk, in a way because you were trying to distract yourself from whatever was upsetting you earlier.

“I know baby.” He holds your head to his chest, playing with your hair with his fingertips grazing your scalp you let out a groan, he always knew how to make you feel good in an intimate way.

You pass out as soon as you get in the Uber, Pedro watches over you to make sure you’re still breathing, the amount you had to drink tonight was more than he’d ever seen. He also didn’t want you to choke if you vomited, so he pulled your body into him, turning your head downward facing his lap, yes it would be unfortunate if you did happen to puke right into his lap, but hey-he would take the chance.

He pays for the Uber when you arrive back at your place, he manages to pick you up bridal style, all while digging through your purse to find your keys to unlock the front door. Not knowing how to manoeuvre around your house in the dark, he turns a light on which stirs you from your slumber, your eyes fluttering open just as he sets you down in your bed.

He returns with a wet washcloth to wipe your face, trying to cool you down, offering you a drink of water which you accept. “Thanks.” You mumble embarrassed of your shenanigans tonight. “Need any help getting into your pyjamas?” You nod pathetically, bottom lip jutting outward in a big pout as you give him your best puppy dog eyes. Your legs still felt like jelly and your arms were too heavy for you to lift, you were starting to sober up, but you just wanted to lay in the comfort of your mountain of blankets and too many pillows.

He unzips your dress from the side, peeling the straps from your shoulders, pulling it down to your ankles and hanging it up on the coat hanger and up on the wall, not wanting to crinkle or have the delicate material stepped on.

He didn’t realise you weren’t wearing a bra when he comes back with pyjamas, the only thing covering your body was the small piece of material of your black mesh panties. He feels guilty that his cock bounces at the sight of you, bare. You’re more perfect than he ever could’ve imagined. He feels like a pervert, you need his help and he tells himself he’s doing wrong by you.

Your hand grasps his, drawing his attention back to your face, your bottom lip sucked in between your teeth as you watch him, noticing his internal struggle as he sees you, all for him.

You grab him by the collar, pulling him down to you, smashing your lips into his in desperation, tears of pent up feelings and hidden emotions coming to play in the fight for dominance. He pulls back, gasping for air, your hands tangle in his hair and tug lightly which earns a soft moan from him.

“We don’t have to do this.” He offers, giving you an out before you possibly ruin your friendship.

“Want to, want you. Love you so much, please.” A single tear escapes the corner of your eye, he wipes it away with his thumb, sincerity on his face as you confess your love for him.

“Fuck baby I’ve always loved you, why didn’t you say anything.” You help him unbutton his shirt, discarding it to your bedside nightstand, it knocks something off in the process which makes you laugh.

“Was scared you wouldn’t want me cause of how I look.” Pedro grips your face gently with one hand, forcing you to look at him, a sympathetic look strewn on his face, “oh baby, you’re so fucking perfect. And god you know how to shake that ass.”

You giggle as he grabs a handful of your ass, pushing your panties to the side in a desperate attempt to feel you, he couldn’t wait much longer. The action sent you into a frenzy, hands grabbing at his belt as you unbuckled him, pulling his pants and underwear down to his knees, spreading your legs to make room for him between your legs. Your eyes are wide and you inhale a gasp as you see the size of him, it’s thick, about 7 inches and a few shades lighter than his skin tone, he was trimmed and fuck he was perfect.

“Is it okay?” He mutters nervously, anxiety driving his insecurity. You look at him through your lashes and bath your eyes at him as he’s hovering over you.

“It’s fucking perfect baby, you’re so big I dunno if I can take it.” Pedro grunts at your praise, his cock jumping upward.

His fingers slide into you easily, your hole is dripping onto your sheets, the alcohol being a bad influence on your holes need to be fucked. He slowly pumps two fingers inside of you, not bothering to take his time to start of with one, you took him easily with how wet you are, sucking his fingers back in as he curled them upward at the spongey flesh that had your back arched off the bed and eyes clenched shut.

“Fuck Pedro, feels so good.” He leans his head down, humming against your breasts, your hardened nipples are aching with need, wanting some attention paid to them too. He kisses them sloppily, nipping and grazing his teeth as he pulls away, the sensation has you squirming beneath him.

“Need more, please,” you beg impatiently, just wanting his cock to fill your cunt, needing to feel him, all of him.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll take care of you.” His thumb meets your aching clit, relieving some pressure as he swirls it around in delicious small tight circles, the pressure was building by the second, the pleasure was almost too much, the skilful action has you gripping your duvet, legs wrapping around his own as you try to pull him closer, “come on baby, cum on my fingers.” You fell apart at his words, creaming on his fingers that massaged your sweet spot, your legs are shaking and your ears are ringing as a string of moans leave your lips. He continues pumping into you slowly, stringing your climax along as much as he can.

When he takes his fingers out of you, the emptiness makes you whine, he sucks your orgasm off his fingers, the action makes you squirm.

“I don’t have a condom baby.” He says pitifully, the head of his cock sticky in clear precum, the head was angry and red at being hard all night with no friction to help relieve him.

“Don’t care, I’m on the pill n I’m clean, please. Need you so bad.” Your voice wavers, still feeling the effects of your orgasm. He guides his cock to your entrance, watching your eyes for any signs of regret. He slides the head in, it’s thick and his fingers are no prep for the size of him, it burns slightly as he pushes in, you whimper, “fuck, so big.” He lets you adjust before pushing further into you, bottoming out, he lets out a breathy groan at the feel of you.

“Not gonna last with how good you feel.” He admits shamefully, you caress his face and kiss his forearm that’s right by your head, “it’s okay baby, move, please.”

Your hole quickly gets used to the size of him, your chest is heavyifng at how he takes your breath away, you bring your legs up to wrap around his lower back, bringing him closer to you, into you.

“Jesus’s fucking Christ baby,” he mutters, finding a steady pace as he pumps into you, slamming into your puffy walls, your whimpers and moans are getting louder and louder as your second climax builds, “fuck ‘m gonna cum, harder please.” He obliges, fucking into you ruthlessly, wanting you to cum again as he begins to sweat, trying to stop himself from cumming in you before you can reach your high.

“Fuck fuck fuck me, fuck Pedro, that’s it. Cock feels so fucking perfect.” Your legs tremble as you fall apart on his cock, stomach spasms as you come undone again, this orgasm coming down on you harder than the last.

Pedro cums seconds later, “fuck, feel so good baby.” His voice is breathy, deep and husky as he cums, his moans loud as the white ropes of his cum paint your walls, his sperm shooting deep inside your womb.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to lie completely flush against your cool, sweaty skin. You both sit in silence as you feel him go soft inside of you. You massage the back of his head, twisting the curls around your pointer finger.

“Did you mean it?” He asks, voice raspy and vulnerable.

“Mean what?” Unsure of what he means, what did you say?

“That you love me.” You feel anxious, a thousand thoughts running through your head per minute.

“Yeah I do.” He relaxed into you more, breathing evens at your words and you feel yourself becoming more at ease.

“Good, cause I want you to be mine."

You kiss the corner of his lips, "would love nothing more than to be yours."