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smileysuh · 10 months

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Sunday Sinner

🌙 staring. Mark & Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

tw/cw. threesomes, inexperienced!Mark, fingering, blow jobs, deep throating, pussy eating, spit roasting, voyeurism, lots of masturbation (especially in the shower), Hyuck has a dirty mouth, sin sin sin, unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, kink for being 'full', religious contention, Mark gets hard during Sunday Service, Mark getting outed as low key virgin, proposition, Mark uses a cross necklace in sinful ways, praise, slight degradation, inklings of corruption kink, squirting, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (Mark's) church boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k

🍭 aus.frat/uni au, soccer player au, church/inexperienced!Mark, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've wanted to do a fic about Mark being Christain for a while, but I wanted to make one that was still respectful. This idea popped into my head, and I think it turned out really well :) it's only slight blasphemy.

There’s nothing like a frat party after a big win for the university soccer team. Even though Mark doesn’t really drink, and he’s never smoked a joint in his entire life, it’s nice to be surrounded by happy energy.

His team always laughs at him when he notes how celebrations can feel almost church-like, but the indescribable buzz that fills the entire frat is familiar to the man who’s been going to Sunday Services his entire life.

Mark likes seeing familiar faces, and if he hadn’t been raised in a very big family type of system, he’s not so sure he’d be this okay with crowds, or the number of people who reach out to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand in congratulations for scoring the winning goal.

It had been a great game, and when Mark’s ball had sunk into the top left corner of the net, he’d run to the side lines to fall to his knees and make the sign of the cross, grabbing at the religious pendant around his neck to kiss it. People have always made fun of him for this tradition of his, but nothing will ever stop him from thanking God - his God - for the fortune life has brought him.

Even now, the necklace is securely around his throat, the cross resting just below his shirt. The cool metal brushes by his skin when he moves through the frat house, a constant reminder of his faith.

Something is drawing him outside, and Mark has always been someone who leans into the feelings he can’t put his finger on. It’s something like divine guidance, and Mark exits the frat to step onto the back patio, where his friends are in a circle around a fire.

It smells like weed, something Mark hadn’t liked at first, but it’s now a scent he’s used to, and he heads over to stand next to his roommate.

Lee Donghyuck and Mark have been friends since high school, where a few ‘less woke’ teachers had assumed - because of their shared last name - that two were cousins, or something of the sort. They’d always been put in group projects together. At first, Hyuck had been too much for Mark to handle, but over the years, he’s come to like the chaotic energy of his closest friend, despite all their differences, mainly, their disagreements on religion.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Hyuck bellows, throwing his arm around Mark to pull him tight to his hoodie covered side, which reeks of marijuana.

“Church boy Mark!” Yuta grins from across the circle, raising his beer in a mock toast to the man who had won them their soccer game.

“Can he even be here?” a bitchy foreign exchange student from Thailand asks, earning a shove from Mark’s frat ‘big’ Johnny.

“Of course he can be here,” the man from Chicago laughs.

“I just mean-” Ten is quick to correct himself, “we’re playing Never Have I Ever. Are we sure this is suitable for him?”

“Mark plays games,” Hyuck insists, but Mark’s not so sure about this one.

“He doesn’t even have a drink,” Ten notes, looking Mark up and down.

“Someone get him something,” Hyuck says, snapping his fingers at one of their pledges. “One of the iced tea mixes, the low percent ones-”

“Hyuck-” Mark sighs.

“Trust me,” Hyuck assures him, “you hardly do anything with your life, it’s not like you’ll have to drink that much.”

Mark still doesn’t feel too enthused about joining the game, but he supposes his heart led him out here for one reason or another, so he accepts the hard iced tea can Jisung hands him. His eyes immediately scan it for the alcohol content, and he sighs. “This is the same as beer.”

“Come on, church boy,” Hyuck groans. “You’ll only have like three sips, max. Watch-” without waiting for Mark to agree, Hyuck is addressing the circle again. “Never have I ever sucked cock.”

The girls in the vicinity all make sounds of annoyance, raising their drinks to their lips. In the periphery, Yuta also sips his beer, and after a moment and a groan, so does Ten.

“See!?” Hyuck squeezes Mark’s shoulder. “You’re already zero for one.”

“That was a low blow, Hyuck,” your voice draws Mark’s attention. You’re standing on the other side of his best friend, which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, seeing as you’re Hyuck’s fuck buddy.

Mark takes a moment to assess you while Hyuck rolls his eyes and defends himself. The church goer has always thought you were pretty, and you’re smart too, much too smart for the crazy gemini he has as a roommate.

“Two can play that game,” you warn, raising your voice to announce, “Never have I ever eaten pussy.”

Mark’s skin prickles, panic washing over him as every man around the fire - and even a few girls - drink. The church boy can feel his grip on his can shaking slightly, and for a brief moment he considers having a swig of the hard iced tea just to protect himself, but, well… it would be a lie. And if there’s one thing Mark Lee doesn’t do, it’s lie.

Mark can feel eyes on him as he downcasts his gaze to the ground. His skin is heating with embarrassment, and he just prays to God no one makes a big deal out of this-

“You’ve never eaten pussy?” Jeno yells, and Mark just knows the question is directed at him.

He looks up, lips parting at the shock of being put on the spot.

“Wait, you guys haven’t heard the church camp story?” Hyuck asks, and now Mark’s really panicking. But it’s too late to stop his loose lipped roomie, who is already diving into Mark’s past for the whole circle to hear. “This one time, he fucked a girl at church camp, and a Jesus picture fell off the wall, so he hasn’t even touched a girl since then.”

A few people laugh, and while Mark can understand that - objectively - they’re not laughing at him, but at the story, he can’t help but get defensive.

“It fell off the wall, Hyuck,” Mark insists, voice shaking. “How else do you explain that?”

“I’ve always thought you were just banging that girl too hard,” Hyuck suggests, earning a few sounds of agreement from other frat boys.

But Hyuck wasn’t there when it had happened, and Mark knows for a fact there was no true bed rocking going on. He’d been taking things slow, and the only possible explanation for the picture falling - in his mind at least - is that he’d disappointed God.

He’d done a hundred Hail Mary’s as repentance, and now that his secret has been put out where everyone can hear, he thinks maybe he should do fifty more for good measure.

“I’ve gotta go,” Mark mumbles, handing Hyuck his drink.

Mark’s roommate tries to stop him from scurrying away, but the damage has been done, and the man who scored the winning goal at the soccer game rushes back into the frat house with red ears that betray his shame.

“You can’t still be mad at me,” Hyuck whines, chasing after you as you exit the frat bathroom.

“Why do you assume I’m mad at you?”

“Because I followed you to the toilet and you didn’t wanna smash?” Your fuck buddy manages to pin you to the wall, hands on either side of your head while he looks at you with serious eyes, a contrast to the sentence that’s just come out of his mouth.

“Sometimes a girl’s just gotta pee, Hyuck,” you laugh.

“Don’t play games, angel,” he insists. “You’re mad about the Mark thing.”

“So you admit I have something to be mad about.”

Hyuck lets out a sigh. “Fine, yes.” He pulls away from you, throwing up a hand in defeat. “I shouldn’t have told everyone his stupid Jesus picture story. There, I said I’m sorry, are you happy now?”

“You said what?”

He groans, and in one motion, he’s pinning you to the wall again, his lips just millimeters away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, and his eyes drill into your own, “I’m sorry.”

After a moment, you say softly, “I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”

“You want me to apologize to Mark?!”

“Among other things.”

Hyuck pulls away, looking you up and down. “You better not be suggesting what I think your horny ass is suggesting.”

“I don’t know,” you smirk. “What do you think I’m thinking?”

“It looks like you’re thinking about going upstairs to offer Mark help with getting over his Jesus sex fear.”

“And that would upset you?” You cock your head to the side, assessing your fuck buddy.

“Angel,” he groans, “you’re mine.”

“Am I though?” you counter. “Am I really?”

When you’d started sleeping with Hyuck, he’d made it clear that he’s not the kind of guy who likes to be tied down to one person. While he can be somewhat possessive, part of your arrangement is that you can both do what you want, and right now, you’re seriously considering fucking the sweet church boy you’ve had a slight infatuation with since year one.

“Fuck the fact that you’re not my girlfriend,” Hyuck says finally. “There are bigger reasons you shouldn’t do this.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well for one,” your fuck buddy leans in, his lips ghosting by your ear as he whispers, “Mark has a massive crush on you.”

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. Leave it to Hyuck to spill two of Mark’s biggest secrets in the span of one hour.

“If Mark has a crush on me, then I have to do this. You can either join us, or go cry about it.”

Hyuck sighs. “For an angel, you can be a bit of a fucking demon sometimes.”

“And you love it.”

You and Hyuck are standing outside his bedroom. The door is locked when you try to open it, and Hyuck watches you let out a deep sigh before knocking. “Mark? You in there?”

“Of course he’s in there,” Hyuck whispers, rolling his eyes.

“Shh! Be nice!” you chastise him, playfully smacking his arm. Your voice is soft when you call out again, knocking gently a few more times. “Mark? Please let me in.”

The music from downstairs is too loud for Hyuck to hear movement in his room, but after a few moments, the door opens and Mark peers out.

“Oh, it’s both of you.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mark,” Hyuck nearly laughs, placing his palm on the wood so he can force it open before his friend tries to shut the door again. “I live here too, you know.”

“How could I forget,” Mark sighs, heading over to flop onto his bed.

You and Hyuck enter the room, and he clicks the lock back into place behind him. He watches you approach his friend, sitting on the foot of the mattress.

When you reach out, ghosting your hand over Mark’s shin, Hyuck leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t define himself as a jealous type of guy, but watching you be gentle with Mark is definitely bringing up some suppressed emotions, and Hyuck’s not sure what to make of it.

“Mark,” you stroke his leg. “Hyuck has something to say to you.”

“Huh?!” Hyuck’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and his roommate.

You’re going to make him proposition his friend for you?

“Yeah, didn’t you tell me you wanted to apologize?” There’s a warning tone in your voice, and when you look over your shoulder at Hyuck, you give him an expression filled with expectation.

“Right,” Hyuck coughs. “I uh… I’m sorry for what happened at the fire.”

He can tell by your small eye roll that you’re not fully satisfied with his apology, but Mark doesn’t seem to mind. The church boy sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s okay,” he mumbles.

“It’s not okay,” you insist, turning your gaze back to Mark. “I’m also sorry for saying never have I ever eaten pussy. I was trying to attack Hyuck and make him drink, but you got caught in the crossfire.”

“You didn’t mean to, though,” Mark says. “I shouldn’t have joined the game. This is a lesson for me, I guess.”

“Aw, Mark,” Hyuck can’t see your face, but he knows you’re frowning. “We wanted you to join the game. We like it when you do things with us.”

It’s interesting for Hyuck to hear you saying the royal ‘we,’ as if you’re a couple, a unit.

“I’m sure the incident with the Jesus picture was very traumatizing for you,” you continue, sounding as genuine as ever while your hand continues to smooth up and down Mark’s leg. “I can understand why you’d be… apprehensive about doing anything sexual after that.”

Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. Hyuck can’t help but smile when he sees his friend’s ears flaring red with embarrassment, it’s always so easy to get the church boy riled up.

“I just want you to know…” you shift a little where you’re seated, moving closer to Hyuck’s roommate, “this is a safe space. If you ever wanted to… try something like that again, there aren’t any Jesus pictures here to knock down.”

“What?” Mark’s lips part with shock, and he looks between you and Hyuck. “Are you two…”

“Propositioning you?” Hyuck suggests. “Yeah, she is.”

“I’m not-” Mark swallows thickly. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you assure him.

“She wants to fuck you, Mark,” Hyuck says, trying to be helpful. “It will be good for you.”

“Good for me?” Mark squeaks.

“You’re a frat boy who’s practically a virgin, dude,” Hyuck nearly laughs. “You’ve gotta dip your dick in the sinful water sometime. What’s life without eating a little pussy?”

“Oh my god,” Mark groans, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s not that bad, Jesus won’t mind, you don’t even have to put your dick in her!” Hyuck can’t believe he’s the one backing this now, but he also can’t really believe his roommate is a near-virgin.

“This can’t be happening-” Mark is still hiding his face, his ears as scarlet as ever.

“Listen, “ Hyuck sighs, “we usually fuck while you’re at church on Sundays. But if you wanted, we could wait a little and let you join after your service tomorrow.”

Mark’s eyes widen. “After my service? Are you two crazy?”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” you assure him. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, especially after the day you had. I don’t think I’ve congratulated you on your goal in the game today yet-”

Hyuck scoffs at how you could be bringing that up right now.

“Just think about it,” you continue, giving Mark’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to go home now, but, tomorrow, if you want to try eating pussy, Hyuck and I will be here.”

Hyuck wonders what would happen if it was just you propositioning Mark. If he’d be more willing to agree. It’s definitely an added level of sin to have Hyuck in the room while Mark rips his virgin bandaid off, but it’s not like Hyuck’s going to leave Mark alone with you.

You’re his angel, even if you’re looking to save Mark.

Mark can’t pay attention to the sermon. His palms are sweaty, no matter how many times he rubs them against his pants. He feels like - at any moment - a big Jesus statue could just fall over and everyone in the church would turn to him, knowing he was the cause due to his sinful thoughts.

What makes it worse, is the way he can feel blood rushing to his cock. He’s half hard at the Sunday service, and he’s never felt like a worse Christain.

This experience definitely trumps the losing of his virginity, if that’s even possible, and he hasn’t even done anything with you yet.

But in the dark, back corners of his mind, Mark knows that will change. He knows he won’t be able to resist you, you’re just too tempting. He doesn’t have that kind of control over himself, no matter how much he wishes he did.

When the service is over, Mark stands on shaky legs, grabbing a Bible to hold in front of his crotch while he exits the place of worship to head back to the frat.

The fresh air does little to calm his nerves. If anything, the closer he gets to his home, the more sinful he feels. He knows each step is one step closer to you, one step closer to religious paraphenia being miraculously moved by the hand of God-

Yet, he can’t stop. He can’t even alter his course, and when he reaches the frat, he doesn’t say one word to the boys kicking around in the kitchen, he heads straight up to his room.

When he gets to his door, Mark pauses. His hands are shaky as he reaches for the knob, and for a second, he wonders if he should knock. Taking a deep breath, Mark decides to ignore his manners, pushing into the room.

He’s almost relieved to find you and Hyuck sitting in his bed, fully clothed, watching something on Netflix.

“Hiya, Mark,” Hyuck waves, as if their relationship isn’t about to be completely altered.

“How was Sunday service?” you ask.

“How was it?” Mark shuts the door behind himself, giving his head a little shake as he hurries over to the closet to discard his jacket. “You know, good.”

“Why are you carrying a Bible?” Hyuck asks, looking him up and down. “Did you steal that from your church?”

Panic shoots through Mark. He had most definitely accidentally stolen it from his church, wihtout giving it a second thought. His mind had been so focused on you and covering his boner-

“I can give it back,” Mark insists, palms sweating again as he places the book gently on top of his backpack.

“You look spooked, dude. Did some pastor try to touch you?”

“Hyuck!” you practically scream, slapping your hand over your fuck buddy’s mouth. “You can’t say things like that!”

Hyuck mumbles something against your hand that sounds like ‘historically accurate,’ and Mark wants to strangle him.

“You want to know why I look stressed?” Mark sighs. “Because you two are sinners who propositioned me last night!”

Hyuck moves your hand from his mouth, smirking. “Come on, Mark, be sinners with us!”

“This is not helping,” you whisper to your fuck buddy, gently pushing his shoulder before you stand from the bed, approaching Mark with an empathetic expression. “I’m sorry about last night, we shouldn’t have pushed that on you.”

“It’s okay,” Mark shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze.

“It’s not, we’re horrible, dirty, sinful people,” you reach out, linking your pinkie with Mark’s. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. “Forget we ever said anything.”

“I can’t forget,” Mark states, finally looking at you. He licks his lips, thinking of something else to say, but all that comes out is “I can’t forget,” and it’s the truth.

You open your mouth, and Mark hangs on what your next words will be-

Hyuck interrupts the moment. “So are you gonna eat pussy or what?”

“Hyuck!” you yell, turning to flash a warning glare at the man who’s giggling to himself on his bed.

Mark doesn’t even want to focus on his friend right now. Instead, he reaches out, taking your other hand gently. He gazes down at your fingers, too scared to look at your face.

“I think…” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “I think we should do this.”

“Really?” you ask while Hyuck lets out a loud “What?!”

“You’re both right… maybe it will be good for me.” Mark can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “But- I’m not sure what I’m even ready for.”

“We can go slow,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. “Anything you’re comfortable with.”

Mark looks up at you. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Hyuck scoffs loudly, but it’s an afterthought in Mark’s mind when you nod, reaching up to cup his face. “You can kiss me,” you tell him softly.

Mark’s free hand reaches out to grab your waist, and he moves closer. He can feel your breath on his face. He’s never been this up close and personal with you, and you’ve never been prettier. There’s a softness in your expression, an acceptance, and it makes Mark feel confident enough to press his lips to yours.

It’s a gentle kiss - a perfect kiss - and Mark can feel the tension releasing in his shoulders.

You step even closer, and your breasts press against his chest, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your tongue smooths over his bottom lip and Mark stifles a groan, opening his mouth just enough for his own tongue to meet yours.

He can count the number of girls he’s kissed during his life on one hand, including you, but none of them have happened like this. Mark had never imagined he’d end up in this situation before, and despite the calming effect you have on him, he still finds himself pulling away and struggling to catch his breath.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, in fact, he’s been thinking about it all day.

“Yeah?” There’s a sparkle in your eye and you smile at him. “Where?”

Mark can’t bring himself to say it.

You gently take his hand, bringing it to your throat. “Here?” you ask, and Mark traces his thumb over your jugular, surprised to find your heart is racing just as fast as his own. “Or…” you move his hand down, his palm cupping at your breast, “Here?”

Mark lets out a low groan at the feeling of you. He’s touched even less boobs than he’s kissed girls in his life, and yours are absolutely perfect in his hand.

“Mark,” you whimper, and he brushes his fingers over your pebbled nipple, peaking through your shirt. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably.

“Or maybe…” you move his hand lower, dragging it across your stomach until it reaches your pussy through your sweatpants, “were you thinking of touching me here?”

He nods, still unable to speak as you guide him to apply more pressure to your core. You feel so warm, and a sinful voice in the back of his mind tells him you’re probably wet too. Or at least, he hopes you’re wet, hopes he has the same effect on you that you have on him.

You let out a soft moan, and it’s like music to his ears. You grind down slightly on his hand, wiggling your hips in a motion that’s hypnotizing. “Do you want to…” you bite at your lip, toying with the waistband of your sweats. “Do you want to put your hand inside?”

“God, yes,” Mark groans, finally finding his voice.

You pull the waistband away from your skin, giving Mark access to slip his hand below it. Then your lips find his again, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he teases his fingers along your panty clad core.

You’re as wet as he’d hoped you would be, and Mark moans at the realization.

He’s only watched porn a handful of times in his life, and always felt bad about it after, but he knows where the clit is, and he gently circles his fingers around the spot.

You gasp into his mouth, and Mark eats up the sound, applying more pressure.

“Fuck, Mark, just like that-” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair as you deepen the kiss.

You rut your hips, grinding down on his hand, and it drives Mark wild. He wants to touch you, really touch you, without any fabric in the way, and when he opens his mouth to ask, “Can I-” you’re agreeing without even hearing the end of the sentence.

He takes a breath, and then he moves your panties to the side.

The first swipe of his fingers through your pussy lips feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, and the wetness he collects against his skin makes his cock throb again.

He teases your opening, earning more gasps from you as your lips move to his neck. When your mouth makes contact on a spot just below his ear, a shiver runs through Mark’s entire body. He’s heard about sweet spots, but no one has ever kissed his, and the feeling has his eyes closing with pleasure.

Without a second though, Mark slides a finger into your pussy, and you mewl in his ear, holding him tighter. “So good,” you whisper as he slowly thrusts the digit in and out of you, building the confidence to add another.

You're grinding down against him still, and his palm works your clit while his two fingers curl inside of you. The sounds you’re making are increasing in pitch and frequency, and you’re gently pulling on his hair, licking at the spot on his neck that has his body tingling.

He’s never made a girl cum before, but he can tell by the way you’re reacting, that he’s going to get you there. He wants to get you there, more than he’s wanted any goal he’s ever scored in a soccer game.

The cool weight of the cross around his neck has Mark wondering if he’s going to go to hell for this. But can he really go to hell for something that feels this good? This right?

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Don’t stop.”

Mark works his fingers into you even faster, eager to have you coming undone on his hand-

A clinking sound in the periphery makes Mark’s eyes open, and when he looks over at Hyuck’s bed, he sees his friend wiggling out of his pants.

“Dude, what the Hell-” Mark freezes, making an attempt to pull his hand from your pants, but you latch onto his wrist, shaking your head.

“No, Mark, please, I’m so close, please-” There’s a look of desperation in your eye, and it has him swallowing thickly, focusing on you while he picks up his motions again.

“I’ll wait,” Hyuck says in the background, and there’s some comfort in that at least.

“Mark, it feels so good, you’re so good at this-” you praise him, whispering in his ear while you work your hips faster against his hand.

“Oh God-” Mark groans, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“There’s no God here, dude,” comes Hyuck’s snarky voice.

Mark’s eyes begin to shift to his friend, but you cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Focus on me,” you tell him. “Like I’m focused on you.”

He swallows thickly, breathing deeply as he fingers you harder, earning all sorts of sinful moans that drown out anything Hyuck could ever bring to the situation.

“Yes, Mark, yes- I’m gonna-” You’re gasping now, and you can’t even finish your sentence. Your pussy clenches around Mark’s fingers, your lips finding his as you cum.

He continues his motions, wanting to draw out every second of pleasure that he can-

Mark has heard all sorts of ideas about what Heaven could look like, but he’s never heard that Heaven could be standing in your frat house room, hand down your best friend’s fuck buddy’s pants, with her pussy throbbing around your fingers.

You begin to shake, reaching down to grab at his forearm, and Mark knows you’re finished. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he pulls his hand away, marveling at the slick that’s covering his digits.

“Here,” you say gently, grabbing his wrist to guide his fingers to your mouth, licking them clean. Then you reach for him, bringing your mouth close to his own. “Taste me.”

Mark’s never kissed a girl so fast in his life, and he groans at the flavour of your tongue. If this is what your pussy tastes like, Mark had missed out by passing up the opportunity to eat you out, but at the same time, he’s really not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

“Okay, you two,” Hyuck’s voice makes Mark draw back from you. “This is enough teasing, I’ve gotta fuck something now or I’m gonna explode. Mark, are you staying?”

The church boy swallows thickly and then he shakes his head. If he’s not ready to eat you out, he’s definitely not ready to watch his best friend fuck you. “I’ve gotta…” he stumbles for an excuse. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Right, shower,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “Have fun with that.”

You go in for one last kiss before Hyuck is pulling you away from Mark, and he watches for just a moment while Hyuck presses his own mouth against yours-

Mark tears his eyes away, reaching for a towel in his closet before escaping the room.

The towel covers his boner while he runs down the hallway to the bathroom, and he strips himself naked in record time, stepping into a shower stall.

His hand is around his throbbing cock not two seconds later, and Mark throws his head back, closing his eyes while his brain struggles to process everything that’s just transpired.

It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to the edge. His toes curl against the vinyl floor, and his vision goes practically black as he cums.

There’s no time to aim, and Mark feels sticky warm fluid coat his chest, but his hand doesn’t stop. He jacks himself off until he’s a nearly overstimulated, gasping mess, and he thanks God for the water cleaning his body of the sinful filth.

He’s never cum this hard in his entire life.

You’re at your usual Wednesday lunch with the girls before class when you notice one of your friend’s looking at something over your shoulder. She’s done this a few times now, but when you turn in your seat to assess the room, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you looking at someone?” you question.

“It’s just…” Hyuna leans forward. “Did you do something to Mark?”

“What?” you look behind you again, thoroughly confused.

“Every time you turn, he pulls his baseball cap down,” she explains. “He’s over there, by the window. Green cap.”

When you scan the area again, you do notice a pair of cute red ears sticking out from a baseball cap, the guy’s head downcast as if he’s just staring at his french fries.

“How many times has he looked over here?” you ask, grinning.

“Like, a lot.” Hyuna cocks her head. “You did do something to Mark.”

You stand up, leaning forward. “Actually, he did something to me.” With a wink to your girls, you turn to head off toward Mark’s table.

He looks up once during your approach, and you see him scrambling with his bag. It would be very entertaining to watch him run away from you again, but he doesn’t have the chance, as you arrive before he’s done shoving papers into his binder.

“Hey, you.” You take the seat across from him. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” His voice is shaky, and you find it adorable.

“You know…” you reach your foot out under the table, grazing it by his calf. “I can’t get you out of my head either.”

Mark coughs, adjusting the cap on his head. “What?”

“I said, I can’t get you out of my head either.” You’re enjoying the effect you have on him, and you’re very aware of how public the space is. You don’t think Mark’s going to confirm that he’s been thinking about you, so instead, you ask, “Are you planning to go to church on Sunday?”

“Yeah, of course,” he swallows thickly.

“Do you think you’ll be able to pay attention while you’re there?”

“I uh, I-” Mark stutters over his words. “I think so?”

You study the pretty virginal frat boy. As soft as you’ve been with him so far, you feel like teasing him, just to see how he reacts. “Just so you know, if, while you’re at Sunday service, a Jesus picture falls down, it’s because Jesus knows what you did.”

Mark lets out a groan, and you see his neck has turned red now too. “I-” Mark’s gaze dips down to your breasts, which are pushed together in your low neckline shirt as you lean forward. “I have to go-” he grabs his things, fumbling with all of them while he stands abruptly.

The loud sound of his chair scraping across the ground draws a few eyes, and the pool boy nearly knocks the table over in his haste. You notice the way he immediately holds his binder over his crotch, and you lick your lips while looking up at him.

“See you later,” he mumbles, running away.

You watch him enter the men’s bathroom, and you think you can imagine what he’s going in there to do. Last time he’d run away from you, Hyuck had mentioned he was probably going to jack off in the showers.

The frat bathroom is one thing for a quick wank, but a public restroom is another.

You shake your head, walking back to your girls table, Mark’s tray of fries in your hand. They’re all gawking at you.

“Damn,” Hyuna whistles. “I know you just said he did things to you, but girl, you definitely did a number on that church boy.”

There’s nothing Hyuck loves more in the world than making you cum on his cock. He loves the noises you make, gripping at his bed sheets as your orgasm overtakes you. He loves being the source of your high.

What he doesn’t love however, is the way that today, you immediately ask, “How’s Mark doing?” as Hyuck pulls out of you.

He can’t help but laugh slightly, shaking his head at you. “Been acting weird all week.”

“Do you think he’s going to join us tomorrow after church? I’m kind of shocked he wasn’t here today, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that why you came over? Wanted to see your precious little Mark?” Hyuck lands a smack to your inner thigh that has you giggling. “And yeah. He’ll probably join tomorrow. Jeno says he’s walked in on Mark jacking off in the shower like, four times this week. It’s actually starting to be a bit of a problem.”

“Is frat boys jacking off in the shower not a common occurrence around here?”

“It is, but not when it’s Mark,” Hyuck laughs. “That guy needs to get fucked.”

“I’m not sure he’s ready for that yet.”

Hyuck studies you. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Well, maybe he just needs to cum properly.”

You sit up, teasing your hands over Hyuck’s thighs. “Tell me, how does a guy ‘cum properly.’”

“Buried inside something nice, and wet, and warm,” Hyuck reaches out to grasp your chin. “Your mouth would work.”

You laugh at the idea, “Maybe if he lets me,” and Hyuck grins, getting off the bed to pull on his pants.

“I’m gonna head to the kitchen for water, need anything?”

“Just you,” you tease. “Hurry back.”

“You got it, angel,” Hyuck winks at you before heading to the door. He pulls on his shirt as he exits the room, but just when he gets his head through the neck hole, he catches a quick glimpse of one mister Mark Lee rushing into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Had Mark been listening this whole time? Had he been outside of the door, listening to Hyuck fuck you?

The thought makes Hyuck laugh again, and his ego triples in size. There’s something very… intriguing about this whole situation with the frat’s ‘designated’ virginal church boy, even if this experience is making Hyuck rethink his ideas of commitment.

If the last Sunday service had been torture, today might just be Hell for Mark.

He’s sweating, shaking even, his knee bobbing up and down anxiously while he sits in the back row.

He’d returned the Bible he’d stolen last time, but he fears that he might end up taking it again. Every time he thinks about you, thinks about what it felt like to have his hand down your pants while you sucked on his neck-

No, he can’t think about it. He can’t-

But it’s too late, he feels his cock growing in his pants, and shame washes over him. He runs a hand through his hair, fanning himself and taking deep breaths.

It’s not ten minutes into the hour long service, and already, he’s at his breaking point.

Mark battles with himself for another two minutes, and he finally gives up. When everyone stands to sing, he quietly excuses himself from the back row, ducking out of the church without looking back.

“Mark?” you sit up hastily from Hyuck’s embrace, blinking at the boy who’s just entered the room. “You’re back from church early!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sit through it,” Mark mumbles, throwing his jacket in the closet before collapsing on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s unlike you,” Hyuck sits up next to you. “Are you sick or something?”

“Definitely sick in the head,” Mark groans.

“Enjoying sex doesn’t make you bad,” you tell him. “Besides, we haven’t even fucked yet.”

Mark sighs. “Yet.”

“So you were thinking about her fucking you while you were in church,” Hyuck grins next to you. “That’s sinful, Mark.”

“I know!” Mark flops onto his stomach, shoving his face against his pillow.

You look at Hyuck, and he makes a face, motioning to his friend. ‘Say something’ he mouths.

‘No, you say something!’ you mouth back.

Instead, Hyuck simply pushes you out of his bed, and you stumble onto your feet.

“Mark…” you approach the sulking churchboy. “I know a few things that could cheer you up.”

Mark groans, but he sits up all the same, looking at you with eyes that tell you he wants you to elaborate.

“I was thinking…” you swallow, choosing your words. “Based on your history, it sounds like maybe you’ve never had someone go down on you before-”

“Fuck, she’s so good with her mouth,” Hyuck quips.

“I know this whole thing started with you not eating pussy, but, seeing as you made me cum last week with your fingers, I thought I could return the favour somehow.”

Mark’s lips part, and he allows you to take his hands, pulling him to be standing in front of you.

“What do you say Mark?” You lean forward, your lips almost touching. “Can I suck you off? Pretty please?”

Instead of answering, he kisses you, cupping the back of your neck.

Your first kiss with Mark had been slow and gentle, but there’s a new fire in him now, and it’s only a moment before his tongue is gliding past your lower lip, begging for entrance. You release a groan, reaching down to loop your fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling him tighter to your body.

You can feel that he’s already hard, and you love how easy it is to turn him on. You love the way he’s already becoming more explorative in the way he interacts with you, his hand steady on the back of your neck, insistent that you stay lip locked.

For a guy who doesn’t kiss girls much, he’s a phenomenal kisser. There’s emotion in it, and he tastes like spearmint.

You get lost in the feeling of him, but after only a little while, you’re aching to touch him properly. Your hand slips down, cupping him through his pants. The church boy shivers at the contact, and you squeeze him. It’s the first time you’ve really touched his cock, and you bet he’s already aching-

He releases the back of your neck, and you take it as a sign to begin kissing down his body. You start at his throat, licking the sensitive spot that has him grabbing your hips and releasing a moan. He makes such pretty sounds-

You continue rubbing his cock, but when your mouth gets to his collarbone, you grab at his shirt. “Can this come off?”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, releasing you so he can unbutton the nice church shirt he’s wearing.

When he discards the fabric, revealing his body to you, you simply enjoy it for a moment.

Mark and Hyuck both have such wonderful bodies. Sure, some of your friends make good arguments about the muscled forms of Jaehyun, Johnny and Jeno, but you prefer Mark’s understated physique.

He’s a soccer player, and his body is perfectly athletic without being too much to handle.

Your kisses begin to descend, and you find yourself pausing at the cross necklace. You lean forward and press your lips to it softly. Mark lets out a shaky breath.

You know he’s watching you, and this is your way of showing him you still respect his religion, despite persuading him to partake in the more ‘sinful’ side of life.

“Wait,” Mark says, and he lets go of you to reach behind his neck, fumbling with the clasp. You watch him with curiosity as he removes the cross, holding it gently and placing it onto his bedside table.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him without the gold chain around his throat, and you wonder what the removal of it could mean, but you try not to think too hard about it.

You sink to your knees on the floor, undoing his belt and looking up at Mark. If he doesn’t want this, he can stop you, and you give him more than enough time to make that decision. But Mark only watches you, breathing heavily as you undo the button, then the zipper-

“You want this?” you ask, hooking your fingers in his pants and briefs.

He nods. “I want you.”

You smile, tugging the fabrics down so they pool at his feet.

“You have such a pretty cock,” you whisper, grabbing the base and swiping your thumb across the leaking tip. You notice the way Mark’s chest and neck flush pink, as if he’s embarrassed by your words, but you know that praise is good for Mark.

You press a kiss to the head of his cock, suckling a little while Mark moans above you.

It looks like he’s not sure where to place his hands, so you reach for one, placing it on your cheek while you take more of him into your mouth.

“God-” Mark whispers.

“She feels good, right?” Hyuck asks.

“Yeah,” Mark nods. “Really good.”

Having them both give you praise has your pussy throbbing, and it encourages you to sink further down onto his cock, sucking harder-

“Shit-” Mark nearly whimpers, and you think this might be the first time you’ve heard him swear.

You know it’s wrong, and bad, and dirty, and sinful- but there’s something about corrupting Mark that has you going insane. You bob up and down on his cock, stroking the base that you can’t reach with your mouth.

“This is too hot,” Hyuck says. “I’ve gotta join.”

“How-” Mark begins to ask, but a second later, hands are pulling you off of Mark’s cock.

“Both of you, on the bed,” Hyuck instructs. “You’ve heard of spit roasting, right, Mark?”

“I-” the church boy’s skin is flushed again, and when you hop up on the bed, he follows, clamoring after you.

“Look, you’ll have her mouth,” Hyuck gets on the mattress behind you, and you hear him undoing his belt, “and I’ll have her perfect pussy. It’s a win, win.”

Mark doesn’t argue, his eyes moving down to meet yours as you take his dick back into your mouth, picking up where you’d left off.

Hyuck, meanwhile, tears your pants down, and a moment later his fingers are gliding through your pussy. “Fuck, angel, you’re soaked. Sucking Mark’s cock really turns you on, huh?”

You groan a sound of affirmation around Mark, and his hand is quick to grab your head again, fingers flexing in your hair.

“You can fuck her face if you want,” Hyuck suggests, working two fingers into you easily. “She loves getter her throat fucked-”

Mark’s hips twitch at the words, but he doesn’t follow through. You think maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, and it’s an endearing idea.

Hyuck pulls his digits from your core, and they’re replaced with the head of his cock, which he rubs the length of your pussy, teasing your clit before pushing into you.

Your fuck buddy lets out a loud groan, his hands finding your hips as he sinks his length fully into your core.

“Dude,” Hyuck breathes, “her pussy is literally Heaven-”

His first thrust sends you further onto Mark’s cock, and the man above you gasps when he hits the back of your throat.

“Is fucking pussy going against God?” Hyuck asks, in an almost rhetoric manner. “Isn’t there some weird church loophole where anal doesn’t count? Her ass is great too, scout’s honor.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Mark’s not even listening to Hyuck. He’s much too focused on your lips wrapped around him, and the sounds slipping out of him make you think maybe he’s close to the edge.

All things considered - for a guy who’s never been blown - Mark’s lasting remarkably well, but you don’t want him to last. You want him to cum, like he deserves to cum.

When you suck harder, you feel Mark’s cock twitch, and he lets out a groan. “Shit, I’m gonna-”

“Cum in her mouth,” Hyuck states, pace getting rougher inside of you. “Do it. She’s a good girl. She’ll swallow. Fuck, it’s so hot when she swallows.”

Mark moans, and he pushes his hips forward, sending his cock into the back of your throat. Your gag reflex is the thing that makes him cum, and an “Oh my God!” leaves his lips as he explodes down your throat.

Hyuck’s right, you are a good girl, and you swallow every drop, working Mark through his orgasm until he’s gasping. He pulls out of your mouth, and Hyuck takes the opportunity to fuck you even harder.

Now that you can moan freely, you fill the room with sounds of your own pleasure. When Mark gets off the bed, you fall onto your face, turning to press your cheek to the mattress while you watch Mark find his pants on the floor.

His eyes meet yours, and you can see his pupils are blown. It’s so incredibly sexy to have Hyuck fucking you on Mark’s bed while Mark watches, and your pussy throbs around Hyuck’s cock.

“Fuck, you just got so tight, angel,” Hyuck groans, fingers digging into your waist while his hips buck wildly. “Shit, I’m not going to last like this-”

You reach a shaky hand under your body, finding your clit, and it only makes your pussy clamp down harder on your fuck buddy, who releases another loud moan.

“You close, angel? Sucking off Mark must have really got you going-”

“I’m close,” you confirm, grabbing at the bedsheet with your free hand while your fingers continue on your clit.

“Yeah, you are,” Hyuck growls. “That’s my good girl, my perfect angel. I want you to cum so bad, it’ll tip me over the edge- Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up so good, so fucking good-”

You love it when Hyuck talks dirty like this, and you gasp as you get closer and closer to your high-

“Come on,” Hyuck lands a smack to your ass, and the pained pleasure has you crying out, rubbing your clit harder. “Cum for me,” he commands.

It’s all you need to reach the edge, and you fall over it with a loud moan, forcing your eyes to stay open while you stare at Mark, who watches you with parted lips and a dazed expression.

“That’s it, that’s it-” Hyuck grunts, pace faltering as he cums too, fulfilling his promise of filling you up just the way you like it. He fucks you through your highs, and your hand falls from your clit to the bed, body on the cusp of overstimulation as Hyuck’s motions begin to slow.

As things come to a stop, Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Mark, come over here, you’ve gotta see this.”

“I don’t want to look at your dick,” comes Mark’s quick retort.

“Then don’t look at my dick, look at her pussy with my cum dripping out of it. Trust me, it’s so fucking hot-” Hyuck pulls out of you, and you whine at the loss.

You watch Mark go around the side of the bed, and you can feel both of their eyes on your hole, which is already beginning to drip Hyuck’s cum-

You place a hand under your core, not wanting to get any of this on Mark’s bed, and Hyuck laughs loudly.

“Aren’t you two worried about pregnancy?” Mark asks.

“That’s what birth control is for,” Hyuck says. “Cumming inside feels like nothing else in the whole world.”

“What about STI’s?”

“Well, I mean…” Hyuck gets off the bed, and you watch him grab a tissue from his desk, “we’re only really fucking each other and we’re both clean so…”

“Wait, you two only sleep with each other?” Mark sounds justifiably confused. “So… why aren’t you two… why aren’t you two dating?”

It’s a very good question, and from the way Hyuck brushes it off with a ‘you know’ and a topic change, it feels as if neither of you really have a good answer. “Anyways, you have to try this sometime,” Hyuck says again. “Next Sunday.”

Mark sighs. “Can’t we do this on any day but Sunday?”

“Where would be the fun in that, church bitch?”

You let out a groan of annoyance, but you think you’re starting to understand this is just the way their relationship is.

Getting through a full week while being on the same campus as you is starting to feel like Mark’s own personal Hell. Every time he so much as catches a glimpse of you running between classes, blood rushes to his cock.

Hell, even at soccer practice with Hyuck, every time Mark looks at his forward position roommate, all he can think about is the visual of Hyuck fucking you from behind on his own bed.

By Friday, he’s too pent up to even attend his last class, and he rushes back to the frat to get some shower time.

He’s becoming much too used to jacking off in the shower, but he really can’t help himself.

Mark feels like an absolute sinner, especially with the cross necklace around his neck. Today, something comes over him, and he takes it off, wrapping the gold chain around his right hand. He looks at it for a moment, and there’s almost something like curiosity-

He wraps his hand around his cock, flinching a little at the cold metal on his heated skin. As he begins to move his fist up and down his aching length, the bite of the necklace feels like repentance, like something he deserves.

Mark takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thinks about you.

He thinks about the sounds you make, the expression on your face as you cum- how your mouth had felt on his throbbing cock-

He can’t believe how easy it is to get himself to the edge, especially with the added pain of the necklace around his hand. Does this make him even worse? It shouldn’t be this easy to cum- it shouldn’t be, but it is.

When he reaches the edge, it’s not God’s name on Mark’s lips, it’s yours.

He gasps, body tingling as he pumps his way through it, the necklace biting into his skin-

“Jesus Christ Mark! Get a fucking room!” comes Jeno’s voice. “Some of us are just trying to fucking shower!”

The outburst makes shame flood through his body, but it also only adds to the powerful sensation in his cock, his cum shooting across his chest.

Mark’s decides he’s definitely going to Hell for this.

Another Saturday win for the soccer team means another frat party, and Hyuck loves the attention you give him on days when he gets a goal. You’re even touchier than usual, praising him for his skills-

Yet, Hyuck finds it hard to focus on you with Mark blatantly staring from across the room.

Hyuck has enjoyed sharing you with his roommate, more than he ever thought he would, but tonight, he wants you for himself, and when you begin kissing his neck, pushing him against the wall, Hyuck’s had enough of this public bullshit.

“My room, now,” he commands.

With a giggle, you turn, darting off towards the stairs, and Hyuck follows you with a smile. As he climbs the steps in twos, he gets a feeling he’s being followed, and he stops on the first landing to turn and look at Mark.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Mark blinks. “I’m uh… coming with you?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“So?”

“So,” Hyuck sighs, “you only get access to angels on Sundays, all good Christians should know that.”

“But-” Mark opens his mouth to argue but Hyuck’s not in the mood for it tonight.

“No joining,” he says firmly. But as he looks at Mark’s defeated expression, Hyuck feels something like pity. “I guess you can stand outside the door and listen, you perv.”

Mark’s skin flares with embarrassment, but as Hyuck continues up the stairs, he gets the suspicion that Mark’s going to do exactly what he’d just suggested.

When you arrive at the frat house on Sunday afternoon, Hyuck is waiting for you in the living room. He pulls you into a kiss, and his lips linger against your own, his fingers digging into your hips. “Are you ready for today, my little demon?”

You laugh. “I’m always ready. But we have to wait till Mark gets back from church.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “We could always start without him.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” you note, grinning at your fuck buddy.

“Making me wait isn’t very nice,” Hyuck counters.

“It’s important to learn how to be patient,” you tell him, pressing another peck to his lips. “Come on, I’m sure we can find an episode of something to watch on Netflix.”

When you get to Hyuck’s room, the last thing you expect is to find Mark waiting for you. He’s sitting on his bed, staring at the floor, and his head snaps up as you enter.

“Mark?” You can’t hide your confusion. “Shouldn’t you be at church?”

“I’m not going today,” he states, standing and placing his cross necklace on the bedside table.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, walking over to grab his hands, assessing him for head injury.

“Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

Hyuck lets out a whistle behind you, and you hear him locking the door. “Damn, Mark, I’m actually kind of impressed.”

“So…” you look into Mark’s eyes, “does this mean you’re ready?”

He nods. “Yeah… I’m ready.”

“Are you sure about that, church boy?” your fuck buddy asks. “Do you want us to put up a cross and see if it falls down as a sign that God thinks you’re a sinner?”

Mark takes a deep breath, and his eyes shift to Hyuck over your shoulder. “Fuck God, and fuck the cross.”

Your lips part in shock, and Mark takes that moment to grab your face and kiss you. It’s the hungriest kiss you’ve had from him so far, and you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your chest to his own.

His tongue explores yours, as confident as ever, and his hands move down to your hips, needy and rough. When his palm slips down to grab your ass, your moan loudly, all consumed by this new Mark.

“Shit, dude,” Hyuck whispers from behind you. “Guess I should stop calling you church boy.”

Mark lets out a groan, and then he’s tossing you onto his bed. A squeal of delight escapes you at the roughness of it all.

“I wanna taste you,” Mark states, breathing heavily as he looks down at you with dark eyes.

“Then taste me,” you say simply, already grabbing at your pants to push them down.

Mark helps you tug them off, and then his own fingers are hooking in the waistband of your panties, tearing them down your legs with one rough motion.

“Oh my God, Mark-” you gasp, shocked at his sudden change in attitude.

The man who gets on the bed between your legs isn’t the same man who had whimpered while he fingered you two weeks ago. He’s not a soft church boy worried about boundaries, he’s a confident man who knows what he wants. And what he want is you.

You can’t even take a moment to breathe before Mark’s pressing his tongue against your pussy, hands firmly grabbing at your thighs while he licks a stripe of your most sensitive area.

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair.

His response is a moan that sends shivers through your body, his lips suctioning around your clit like he’s a seasoned pro. There’s no hesitation or worry about correctness, there’s only a pussy deprived man who seems to know exactly what to do to have your toes curling as you drag them across his back.

You’ve had good oral sex before, Hyuck’s particularly skilled in this field, but as wild as your fuck buddy is, he’s never been feral like this.

Mark’s tongue is unpredictable, lapping at you and pushing into your hole, teasing your walls as he rubs his nose against your clit. “Shit, Mark, you’re so good-”

“Better than me?” Hyuck asks.

You hate to admit it, but when a strangled “Yes!” leaves your lips, it only makes Mark go harder on you.

You have no brain space to focus on Hyuck, your eyes closed as Mark’s tongue pleasures you like no one ever has before.

It’s like he knows your body already, as if he’s divinely guided-

The thought has your pussy throbbing, and as if he senses your need, Mark lets go of one of your thighs, adjusting so he can slip a finger into you while his tongue returns to your clit.

“Shit, just like that-” you gasp, legs quivering over his shoulders.

Another digits slips into your wet hole, and more moans leave you as the church boy finger fucks you even better than he did last time.

You’re consumed by Mark, completely, and it feels like Heaven to get lost in the pleasure he’s providing you.

You apply a bit of pressure on his head, wanting him to go harder on you, and he rewards you by sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

“Fuck-” you moan, pushing your hips up toward his face. You’re already so close to cumming that it’s almost insane, and you trust that this time, nothing Hyuck could do in your periphery would prompt Mark to let up on you.

He seems Hellbent on getting you to the edge, and as his fingers crook up to stroke your gspot, you know he’s going to accomplish his task with flying colours.

“Sounds like she’s close, dude,” Hyuck muses, reading your reactions like the back of his hand.

When you turn your head to open your eyes, you find Hyuck has his cock out, and he’s stroking it, gaze fixed on the man between your legs.

There’s something so… fulfilling about being watched like this. To know that Hyuck’s just as turned on as you and Mark, even though he’s taking no part in your pleasure.

Hyuck has a nice cock, and the sight of his fist wrapped tightly around it has even more lust coursing through your body.

To have both men worshipping you in this way- it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

“I’m gonna-” you stutter, licking your lips as the pleasure builds between your legs.

“Cum for me,” Mark groans against your pussy. “Please, angel, I want you to cum.”

The ‘please’ is the cherry on top, as is the petname that usually only Hyuck ever uses on you, and combined, they throw you over the edge.

You cry out, rutting your pussy against Mark’s face while he tongue and finger fucks you through your orgasm.

The church boy lets out sinful sounds, and you can tell he’s enjoying being used like this, enjoying making you come undone on his fingers. Your pussy is throbbing around him, and his unrelenting digits continue stroking the spot that has you tinging with overwhelming pleasure.

“Mark!” you nearly scream, overtaken by the kind of ecstasy you’ve never felt before.

“Fuck, dude,” Hyuck breathes, “you made her squirt-”

You’re almost twitching when Mark finally pulls his tongue from your clit, and his fingers slow before slipping out of you. You open your eyes to watch him lick them clean, and he lets out a deep groan, clearly enjoying the taste of you.

You need him to fuck you, like you’ve never needed anyone - even Hyuck - to fuck you in your entire life.

“Please,” you whimper. “Mark-”

“Let me get a condom,” he states, sitting up-

“No!” you reach out to grab at him, locking eyes with him as you state, “I want you raw.”

It’s the first time today that he looks unsure. “I don’t-”

“I’m clean,” you insist, “and so are you-”

“Bruh, just raw dog it,” Hyuck says. “Trust us-”

With one last look between your thighs, Mark relents, and he gets back on the bed, tugging off his shirt and his pants while you work on getting yourself naked.

As soon as you’re both bare, Mark is laying his body over yours, pressing you into the bed while his lips move feverishly against your own. You tangle your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his cock trapped between your bodies, rubbing over your clit as he rocks his hips.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Inside-”

Mark pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as he looks into your eyes. His gaze shifts down, and he reaches a hand to grab the base of his length, teasing it against your pussy.

You moan loudly as he toys with your clit, and then he’s testing the head of his cock against your aching hole. The tip slips just inside and you whimper, only for him to pull back, then do it again-

“God, Mark-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes.

He pushes his cock deeper inside of you, and you both let out groans of pleasure. His mouth returns to yours while he slowly sinks into your pussy, until his hips are flush against your own.

“Fuck,” Mark whimpers, twitching from the new sensation.

“Told you raw was the way to go,” Hyuck says, as if he’s the most helpful person in the room.

Both you and Mark ignore your fuck buddy, and Mark takes a test thrust that has you both gasping.

“Just like that,” you encourage him. “Fuck, you’re doing so good-”

His lips return to yours, and the kiss takes your breath away as he begins to find a slow pace. Each thrust is deep, intentional, and in some odd way, this doesn’t feel like fucking. Fucking is hard, fast, fevered- but this is different. This is more like making love.

Mark sucks on your bottom lip, and he adjusts one of his hands so it can come up to grab at your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and making you shiver. Your body reacts, pussy throbbing around Mark’s cock, and he groans into your mouth.

“Feels like Heaven,” he whispers, massaging your boob with a loving hand.

Your skin tingles at his words. You can take the church boy out of church, but you can't take the church out of the church boy.

His pace is getting faster, and each thrust has the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. It’s insane how this is Mark’s first time- it sounds like he hadn’t gotten far with the last girl he’d had under him before the Jesus picture incident-

He’s an absolute natural, and each brush of his lips against yours has you feeling closer to him than ever before. His cock fits perfectly in your pussy, and the sounds continuing to escape him tell you that he feels just as good as you do.

“I’m not-” Mark gasps, kisses moving to your throat. “I’m not going to last long-”

“That’s okay,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m proud of you.”

He groans, sucking on your neck. Mark’s hand moves down to your hip, anchoring you to the bed while he ruts into you faster. You know you’re close, but it can be hard to cum without clit stimulation, so you sneak your own palm down your abdomen, fingers seeking out your most sensitive spot.

You both groan when you make contact with your clit, and Mark’s breath is hot against your throat. “You close?” he asks.

“Almost,” you nod, rubbing soft circles around your clit while Mark’s cock slides in and out of your pussy.

“Ya’ll better cum quick or I might bust a nut just watching.” Hyuck’s voice makes you laugh, but the laugh quickly becomes a moan as Mark fucks you harder, fingers digging into your hip.

“I’m so close,” Mark whispers. “Please, this feels too good-”

“Mark,” you whimper, loving how sweetly he talks to you while buried balls deep in your pussy.

“Please, angel, I can’t hold on much longer-”

Your skin tingles at the idea that he’s working hard not to cum, that he won’t allow himself to get there until you can reach your high with him. He’s such a soft boy, the most perfectly wonderful man you’ve ever fucked-

“I’m gonna-” you bite at your lip, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of ecstasy that you’re so close to reaching-

“Cum with me,” Mark begs. “Cum with me, angel, cum-”

The desperation in his voice is what finally sends you over the edge, and you gasp as your core clamps down on him. Mark echoes your sound of pleasure, groaning loudly in your ear as his fingers dig into your hip.

You can feel him filling you up, and it makes you extra sensitive as you ride out your orgasm, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline.

To Mark’s credit, he fucks you through it, hips only faltering slightly before the end.

When you’re both done, you pull your hand away from your clit, and Mark all but collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he buries his face against your neck.

You can hardly have a moment of peace with Mark before Hyuck’s pulling at his shoulder. “My turn,” your fuck buddy insists. “Come on dude, I’ve been waiting forever-”

A laugh bubbles out of you at Hyuck’s antics, and with a loud groan, Mark gets off of you. There’s a dazed look in his eyes as he rolls onto his back in the small twin bed next to you. You wonder if he’s going to just lay there-

Hyuck’s not having it, and he reaches down to scoop you up in his arms, tossing you onto his own mattress.

“Fuck, angel,” Hyuck looks down at your body. “How do you want it?”

You consider it for a moment, and then roll onto your stomach, lifting your hips as an invitation.

Hyuck groans loudly. “God, you’re perfect.”

He’s straddling your legs not a second later, grabbing your waist to tug you up a little bit more while he glides his cock between your closed thighs, grazing your pussy.

“Shit, this is going to be so good,” Hyuck mutters to himself, using one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance.

He moans as he slips inside. “Fuck- I’ve never banged you using another guy’s cum as lube before, but shit, angel, I could get used to this.”

His words make you feel dirty, sinful even, a little like a whore- but something inside of you actually enjoys it.

“Hyuck-” you whimper at how good the position feels. With your legs closed and your ass in the air, things feel more snug, and the angle has Hyuck hitting a sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I know, angel,” Hyuck assures you. “Feels fucking fantastic.”

His breath is hot against your back as he begins rutting into you, and you grab onto Hyuck’s pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne that has perfumed the material.

“You look so good like this,” your fuck buddy says, and the slapping of his hips against your ass is making you go crazy. “I’m never going to get used to the way you look with my cock buried in your perfect fucking pussy.”

Your grip on his pillow tightens, the praise going straight to your core, which throbs around him.

“Yeah, I know you love it when I praise you. You just love being made out to be an angel while doing dirty shit an angel would never do.”

He knows you so well it almost hurts. And when he talks to you like this, it makes you wonder why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Although, if you had been his girlfriend a few weeks ago, you would have never propositioned Mark, and the idea makes you sad.

You open your eyes, looking over at the church boy you’ve come to enjoy spending time with.

Mark’s watching you, and as Hyuck fucks you harder, you have to break the eye contact in favour of pressing your face into the pillow. Your sounds are just getting too loud, even for a frat house.

Your pussy feels like magic, to have been fucked by Mark and now Hyuck- you know you’ll be cumming again soon, whether you want to or not.

“I can feel you clenching, angel,” Hyuck laughs, as if reading your mind. “So this is as good for you as it is for me.”

“So good,” you confirm, which only prompts him to fuck you faster, gliding in and out of your cum lubed hole easier than ever before.

“Watching Mark have you first was torture,” Hyuck tells you. “I was so close to busting multiple times- but I held out, because we both know you’re going to love being filled with us both. Dirty fucking angel.”

You whine at his words, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Don’t be shy,” the man fucking you announces, “cum on this cock. I know you want to.”

Your skin tingles on the cusp of pleasure-

“Be a good little angel and cum for us.”

There’s something about the word ‘us’ that just does it for you, and you let out a loud gasp as you fall apart. Hyuck echoes your sound, fingers digging into your hips as he reaches his own release. He fucks you even harder, groaning while your pussy clenches around his twitching cock.

“Just like that, just like that-” he pants, encouraging you while he rides you through your highs.

You’re not sure how long you cum, but when Hyuck finally slows to a stop inside of you, you think you might just pass out from all the pleasure you’ve received in such a short time.

Your fuck buddy leans over your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder that moves up to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access.

“That’s our angel,” Hyuck muses softly in your ear.

You find yourself smiling. It’s the happiest you’ve been in months.

Nothing else matters, all there is right now is safety and love and acceptance… and maybe a little bit of filth.

When Hyuck pulls out of your pussy, you feel yourself immediately begin to drip, and you do your due diligence, shifting your hand under your body to collect the fluid so it doesn’t ruin Hyuck’s bed.

Your fuck buddy grabs a few tissues, and then he’s sitting by your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so he can get a good look at you while he groans at the sight.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, gently wiping your abused hole, cleaning you of his and Mark’s cum. “I don’t think you even know how hot you are.”

He’s probably right about that, but you’re sure that if you keep doing this with him and Mark, they’ll make you learn.

When Hyuck’s done with his very basic aftercare, he flops onto the bed behind you, back to the wall while he cradles you to his chest. His lips return to your shoulder, and the soft kisses make you whimper from sensitivity.

Then- something is falling on you, and you jolt, eyes snapping open-

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, and you realize the soccer poster has slipped off the wall and onto your bodies.

Your gaze immediately goes to Mark, and you see a look of shock in his expression. “Oh my God-”

“It’s not God,” Hyuck assures you both. “It’s probably just Jeno fucking some chick on the other side of the wall.” As if to prove his point, your fuck buddy bangs the wall three times, and a moment later there are three returned bang noises. “See? Totally just Jeno fucking.”

Mark doesn’t look very convinced, and he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling while he runs his hands through his hair.

“I hope this fucking poster isn’t going to stop you from joining us again next Sunday,” Hyuck says as he pushes the symbol of Jeno’s sex life to the floor.

“Next Sunday?” Mark turns to look at you both.

“Yeah, next Sunday,” Hyuck repeats. “You do want to cum again, don’t you?”

The church boy lets out a deep sigh, but then he’s nodding. “Yeah.”

“Perfect, then it’s settled,” Hyuck grins against your shoulder.

Your fuck buddy is something of an enigma, and you’re never quite sure if you’ve gotten him figured out. He’d started this whole thing being reluctant to allow Mark to join, but now, it seems as if he relishes the thought of having Sunday dick appointments with his best friend.

Although, as you stare at the pretty church boy in the bed across from yours, you really can’t say that you mind.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I just love Markhyuck?

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🔮 preview. “I’m bad?” Hyuck gasps in shock. “Says the people fucking in an accesibility washroom?” He has a point there, and even Mark lets out a chuckle while he presses his lips firmly to your neck, his hips beginning to thrust so he can glide his cock in and out of your wet pussy.“I expect this from her, but from you, church boy?” Hyuck shakes his head while leaning back against the locked door, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still shocked by how sinful you’ve become.”

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, threesome, hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mention of fingering and pussy eating, praise, some degradation with affectionate use of ‘whore/slut’, the constant ‘sin’ mentions, slight cumplay/leaving panties on after having 2 men’s cum in you, bathroom sex, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel. (mark’s) church boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Haechan & Mark x afab!reader

bonus

It’s been something like four months since you and Hyuck invited Mark into your unconventional relationship, and so much has changed since then. Having battled for a long time with perceived self-worth, it seemed that the inclusion of a friend within the relationship was all Hyuck had needed to realize his deeper feelings for you, and feel comfortable enough to share them.

Now, Hyuck’s having the best sex of his life with his two best friends in the entire world. Despite Hyuck’s growth, however, it’s clear that the person most changed by your relationship is none other than the OG church boy himself.

Hyuck had thought he’d been horny when he entered university, but it feels as if Mark’s pent-up energy has made him significantly hornier.

Sitting in class, knowing you and Mark have a spare right now… well, Hyuck can only imagine what the two of you might be up to. As the lecture gets particularly boring, Hyuck pulls out his phone, opening snapchat maps to see if he can pinpoint you and his roommate.

Hyuck’s not shocked to find you were both active on snapchat ten minutes ago, in a building closeby. He’d never been one for maps, but since you and Mark had started fucking, Hyuck had been forced to learn all feasible sexcipade locations on campus. If he’s not mistaken, you and Mark are in one of the single occupancy accessibility bathrooms on the first floor of the arts building, and the thought makes him swallow thickly.

With one last look at his boring teacher, Hyuck grabs his backpack and he slinks out of the lecture hall.

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secondlina · 4 months

Note

I just wanna say that Crowmance on Crow Time got me through a really crappy event in the first half of 2023 THANK YOU FOR BEING SILLY AND WHIMSICAL!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!

THANK YOU FOR BEING SO KIND!!

This makes me so happy because I started drawing them to get through a really bad time too. During the pandemic I got really sick (I'm still dealing with it), and drawing my main series, Namesake, felt overwhelming. I was completely destroyed physically and mentally, and I felt at the bottom of a crater. It wasn't Namesake's fault, I just had no more energy in the tank left for anything complex, and that story is complex. Even my room was a mess.

In the past, I drew a lot of short romance comics and jokey-jokes for tumblr. I like drawing short things a lot. I'm a bit of a goofy dingus and it gives me an outlet for humor that my regular work doesn't really allow. In the past, I drew cute fairy tale shorts like Knot. I also drew some stuff for the Micro Comic Summer events Hiveworks organized.

So in 2021, I started drawing birds. Rude birds. I really love crows and owls and little tit birds. It started turning into something comforting. Like a good hearty soup. Then it kinda started to take form. Crowmance happened because I love, love, love shapeshifter characters in fiction. I NEEDED IT!

Now I just draw crows and Crowmance alongside my other projects. Because it's fun, and it's like putting on a comfortable hoodie on when you just want to doodle for kicks. They keep me warm. I think people respond to them so positively because they are this little spark of joy I made for myself when everything felt really bleak. The "Shiny and Warm" strip was about this feeling.

I hope they keep helping people, and bringing them joy. I'm doing this as a "joy" project - if it stops being fun, then I'll stop drawing them. As long as I'm having a good time, I'll keep it up. So far, so good!

If you like my weird magical romances though, definitely also read Namesake. It's got that good magical longing.

BONUS CROWMANCE DOODLE!!

#crowmance #secondlina rambles #ask and response

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neptuneiris · 10 months

Text

cardigan (01/03)

you drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleedin'.

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 7.3k

next part • series masterlist

hello! i'm very happy to include myself also here with fanfics of aemond, our husband:) this is my first post here on tumblr and i have many more planned. also english is not my first language but i'm still learning. without further ado, enjoy!

Being in love with your best friend for a long time is one of the most beautiful feelings but also one of the most heartbreaking.

Especially if the feeling is not reciprocated.

Even though he and you are very different in some ways, like he's the extroverted person and you're the introverted one in friendship or he comes from a rich family and you've always been the scholar in everything, you still have a lot of things in common.

And that's why you're both best friends.

Even when you met him in high school, in the most prestigious school in King's Landing, you being a scholarship student obviously, you would have never imagined that there were those things in common between him and you.

Until the history teacher asked for a team project of two and you ended up paired with Aemond Targaryen.

You felt it would be the death of you the moment the most popular and richest boy in the whole school focused his eyes on you for the first time by identifying you as his partner.

Already some girls were making cruel comments to you every time they looked at you in the hallways or in the classrooms about not being on the same level because you didn't have money like all of them.

And now teaming up with Aemond Targaryen himself for a History project, you thought, would be unbearable and insufferable.

He was popular. Exaggeratedly popular.

Popular with all the girls because of his good looks and they made comments about how much they wanted to date him. And you understood them, because Aemond's appearance could not simply go unnoticed.

Tall, white skin, distinguished features and incredible long platinum hair. But more than anything else, his sapphire eye caught the attention.

Where his left eye should have been, it was replaced by that precious sapphire jewel. While her other untouched eye was a beautiful lilac color.

And even with that look he didn't push people away nor was he intimidating, on the contrary, the sapphire was what attracted people around him, especially girls.

The favorite of all the teachers, he was the most handsome, popular and richest in the whole school, a lover of parties, reading, piano and sports.

They said he was kind and a good person, but you were suspicious. You thought he must be arrogant like most of the rich students in that place if he was the richest student of all.

And if he was nice to you, surely it must be to keep up his appearance of the nice popular guy that everyone loves and wants as a friend.

But how wrong you were…

As you and Aemond made progress on the project until you finished it and handed it in to the professor, you realized that he really is a nice guy.

Still, you were left in doubt, thinking that possibly by the time you finished the project, he and you wouldn't have to spend any more time together and he would ignore you.

But your surprise was great when in History class, which was the only class you shared together, he started sitting next to you, had a conversation with you, and you did a few more team assignments at his request.

And yet you were still suspicious.

Until one day when you were putting away a few books and notebooks in your locker, the same group of girls that always bothered you showed up again and started with their cruel and mocking comments.

You were used to them, what you weren't used to was being made fun of more openly in public. And just when you felt you were about to start crying in the middle of it all, just making the situation worse, without them stopping teasing you down the hall, Aemond appeared.

It was only enough to place himself in front of you in protective way, with a serious and cold look, to then speak to them in a deadly tone if they were already finished.

The surprised and bewildered girls didn't understand at first why he was so defensive about you.

"Stop bothering her. I don't want to see or know that you did it again."

Those had been the simple and last words enough for him to address to the group of girls in the middle of the hallway and then grab your shoulder and start carrying you away from there along with him.

And from there it all started.

You and Aemond started getting to know each other better and spending time together as friends. He even started inviting you to lunch with him and his friends in the cafeteria.

And as a result of that you discovered a common taste for reading, as well as musical tastes, series and movie sagas or genres, until you became best friends.

The friendship continued after graduating from high school and after applying to the same university until today. Aemond decided to follow the same path as his entire family and chose a career in management, while you chose a career in psychology.

After you both found out that you had been accepted to King's Landing University, Aemond started talking about how he would now rather have his own apartment near the university than choose a residence hall or a fraternity.

And you decided, because of the scholarship, to have to choose the residence hall.

The problem was that you would have to be paying monthly to keep your room, not too much but the money you were getting from your parents wouldn't be enough and you weren't willing to ask them for more.

So you mentioned the fact that you would have to get a part-time job near the university so it wouldn't be complicated and everything would be in your favor.

But Aemond, absurd, told you that it was not necessary, neither the job nor the residence, to later tell you that you could be his roomie and live the dream of living together, like every wish of two best friends.

"Have you lost your mind? How will I be able to live with you, Aemond?"

"Well, as normal, like you live with your parents, but now the two of us together in an apartment."

He explains with all the simplicity in the world, as if it was no big deal, while you look at him completely distrustful and absurd.

"No, Aemond. You're not—

"I've already got it all planned out, okay?"

He interrupts you while he takes a bite of his green apple and continues leaning casually against the kitchen counter of his house.

"Helaena helped me find a very good apartment near the university, it has everything necessary with two bedrooms and two private bathrooms," he explains, "I already talked to the agent, I'll go to see the apartment this Thursday, you can even come with me to tell me what you think and probably a week before we enter the university I'll pay what it costs and it will be all mine."

"You will pay what it costs?" you repeat in shock.

"Yeah," he answers you with all the simplicity in the world.

"Are you actually going to buy the apartment?"

"Yeah," he answers now confused, "Didn't you hear everything I said?"

"But I thought it was a rent, not a purchase."

"What? No. I'm going to buy the apartment, I don't want rent."

He makes it clear to you and now you stay completely silent, watching him even with that slight surprise and also still feeling how absurd his proposal of living together is.

In fact, this is very Aemond Targaryen.

It shouldn't even surprise you that he can afford something like this, obviously because of his rich family. But still, you're not like him in that aspect and that's why you're surprised.

"In fact I want to speed up the whole process, I don't want to be at the last minute arranging everything when we're already going into class. So go tell your parents the news and pack your things."

You let out a long breath, running a hand through your hair.

"No, Aemond, I…" you bite your lips, speaking in a soft tone, "I really appreciate you wanting to do this with me but I can't pay you to live together in an apartment that probably costs more than I do. The residency for the scholarship will be charged to me at a low price and—

"And who said I want you to pay me?"

He interrupts you in a serious tone, looking at you in the same way and you look at him incredulously.

"Well, in some way I have to pay you, don't I?" you ask him, "The apartment will be yours, you're the one who paid for it and I can't live there with you for free."

"Y/N, you are my best friend and I am not going to charge you when you know I can pay for it."

"You can't pay for electricity, water and everything without me giving you money in return, Aemond."

"I don't need it. I'm asking you to live together because I really want us to live together, isn't that what you also told me it would be amazing to do together?"

"Yes, but not like this and you know it," you answer with some sadness.

That Aemond is the one who pays for everything so you can live together comfortably only makes you feel like you are taking advantage of him and useless, but obviously you will never say that to him.

Aemond gets very upset when you refer to yourself in a bad way. And even though he's offering you this because he really wants you to do this together, he still makes you feel bad for not contributing anything.

"Hey Y/N," he says and then starts to walk around the bar towards you, "It's okay, really."

And soon enough when he reaches out to you, he pulls you into an embrace as you continue to sit on the stool and he stands in front of you.

His big strong arms lock you against his body protectively as you bury your face in his chest and his fingers begin to gently stroke your hair.

His clean, fresh scent envelops you completely, only making the embrace more pleasant. And you allow yourself to feel close to him and melt in his arms.

You allow it even though you feel more and more that strong feeling that you wish you didn't feel so much but up to this point it's unavoidable.

"How about this? I'll do everything I told you while you take care of the food and laundry."

He asks you with a certain excited tone, and a small smile on his lips as you pull away from each other just enough, without breaking the embrace, just so you can both see each other's faces.

And you are still not very sure, and not because you don't want to do it, but because you still don't think you have much to contribute, which he notices.

"Don't you want to be my roomie?" he asks you now with a sad and disappointed tone, "Don't you want to watch movie marathons and series with me, eat unhealthy food and stay up until four in the morning?"

You inevitably let out a small laugh at the mere thought of them being wonderful plans.

"And watch those Egyptian documentaries you like so much?" you add.

"Those and also watching the whole Harry Potter saga, although I don't understand your obsession with those movies."

"Now that's why my answer is no."

You both laugh softly and then he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead to lock you in his arms again.

And now you are both here.

It's been months since you both moved into his apartment together and you took into account Aemond's words to convince you and make you feel good about living together.

While he takes care of everything financially, you take care of doing both of your laundry, cleaning the apartment, paying the HBO account and buying the food, although sometimes he also buys to make a special meal that he likes.

All while fulfilling college and also plans to stay home together some weekends watching documentaries, movies or series until four in the morning.

It has been very rare the time you have gone out partying together, mostly because you are the one who prefers to stay at home instead of going to parties.

But when Aemond wants to party, sometimes you go with him or sometimes you don't, just as he also sometimes accompanies you on your movie weekend or sometimes not.

College has been tough, neither of them will deny it, but they've managed to get through their respective careers and so far being roomies has been wonderful.

And of course, even though your respective career departments aren't close, even in your areas you've heard your best friend's name.

You both just got into college and he again became a well-known and popular person, while you have only made three real friends, Aileen, Sara and Ryan. But despite this, Aemond never forgets his best friend any more than you forget him.

As if you could.

And everything is going great so far.

It's already getting dark, you can see it through the big windows of the apartment, listening to music on your phone while you finish preparing dinner for you and Aemond who shouldn't be long in coming.

He had texted you an hour ago saying he would have a two hour class and would probably be a little late, so you do this for him while singing and humming your favorite songs softly.

You finish serving everything on the plates when you hear a message notification. You leave everything ready on the bar, wipe your hands and pick up your phone to look at the screen, reading a message from your friend Aileen.

[Aileen Herron]: party on saturday?

You frown and are about to answer her message with a no when you hear the sound of the door opening in quick motion and then you see Aemond walk in with a huge smile on his lips and a completely lit up face.

"Hello, pretty one."

You smile with an accusatory look as you stop the music and put your phone back on the bar, watching him carefully.

"Now what's wrong with you? Your two-hour class was amazing?"

He lets out a snort as he throws his backpack on the couch and takes a seat in front of you on one of the stools.

"I wish. It was so fucking boring."

"So why are you smiling like that?"

And again her smile appears, only this time a little more subtle but still excited.

"I have a date."

And that's when again, like every time this happens, you feel your heart shrink and start to break a little bit more with each time your best friend lets you know news like this.

And not wanting to appear false, just as you don't want to show that his words hurt you, you maintain as best you can that genuine smile you put on when he arrived at the apartment so happily.

"Oh really?"

"Yes," he answers you excitedly, "It turns out that when I got out of class and said goodbye to my friends, I was heading to the parking lot when a girl bumped into me…."

And there comes the part where they both apologize, then they start talking, they both start flirting and at the end they exchange numbers.

"She's so pretty, her name is Alys."

You bite your lips and nod keeping the best face you can while this time you start walking around the kitchen and he continues talking, not being able to bear to see his face any closer as he tells you about her.

"She's also studying management so it's more perfect, only she's three semesters ahead of me."

You clear your throat, pouring some soda for both of us.

"So she's older than you."

You say trying not to sound distant and disinterested, to which Aemond shrugs his shoulders at your question.

"Three years is nothing."

You nod, taking a sip of your drink, starting dinner.

"And when is the date?" you ask without looking at him.

"This Saturday. I'm taking her to my mother's favorite restaurant, the one I took you to once, remember?"

Again you nod, feeling a little more that little sharp pain in your chest, but you pretend that nothing is happening and that you're just… happy and excited for him.

"Well, you'll tell me how it went."

You try to smile even a little in his direction and at this he just smiles a little more.

"I hope everything goes well. I really liked her a lot."

And again at this, you have no idea what else to say and remain silent, although he soon speaks again.

"This is for me?" he points to the other plate.

"For who else?" you say obviously and amused.

He laughs and brings the plate towards him.

"Thank you, pretty one."

You try not to let those nicknames affect you at all. But before you know it, it has inevitably gotten to you, as it has countless other times. But you didn't want it to affect you knowing that he has a date this saturday.

"And do you have plans this weekend?" he asks you, more than anything to create conversation after talking about his date.

"Hmm… I don't know yet."

"You don't know?"

He asks you with an expectant look and you just look at him without saying anything and then shrug your shoulders and focus back on your dinner.

"You know, you should… go out."

He says suddenly in a soft voice and you look away from your plate to focus on him again.

"What about your friends from class? Don't they ask you out to party or something?"

"You know I don't like parties, Aemond," you reply in a more serious tone than you expected it to be.

"Yes, I know, but…" he sighs, "I'm just saying that it would do you good to go out once in a while and not stay here all the time."

"I always stay here," you say confused, "I don't understand why you're suddenly worried about that if that's what I've been doing since we've been living together."

"I know," he says cautiously and with an understanding look, "but I mean when I go out partying with my friends, I don't like to know that you're staying here alone. Nor like now that I have a date on saturday and you'll be here again."

You watch him in silence for a few seconds, and he takes the opportunity to continue talking.

"You should meet new people, don't you think?" he asks softly, "The university is very big. Maybe you should meet new people who love to stay at home watching movies and shows like you. That way you'll have company while I'm gone because I…" he grimaces, "I won't always have time for you."

And at that moment, you think you're overreacting, that it's no big deal, that it's just a piece of advice with all the good intentions of your best friend, that you shouldn't.

But still, try as you might, you can't help but feel broken by hearing his words.

Maybe he didn't mean it that way nor did he intend to make you understand those words, but it's like he's telling you that you have no friends, that he's your only friend and that you should meet more people.

And in the face of this, you try not to break down at that moment, so you quickly want to pretend that everything is fine and that everything he said is also fine.

"Yeah, of course, you're right."

You get up with your dirty plate, taking it to the dishwasher to start washing it quickly, turning your back to him.

"Y/N—

"When you finish eating, leave the plate here, I'll wash it in a moment, now I have to finish doing some homework," you interrupt him sounding as normal and casual as possible.

"I didn't mean anything bad Y/N, I just—

"Yes, I know."

You force yourself to interrupt him again putting on your best nonchalant face, turning to him, drying your hands once you finish. And with nothing more to say, you leave the kitchen and head for your room.

That same night you comply with what you say, wanting to clear your head, knowing perfectly well that when you let Aemond know that you are doing homework, he doesn't interrupt you unless it is extremely necessary.

So you take advantage of that and without leaving your room anymore, once you're done you take a shower and get ready for bed.

You find it a bit hard to sleep as you overthink too much, thinking about Aemond more than anything else, about his date and everything he told you afterwards.

It had happened before… Aemond had already told you about going on dates and how they had turned out, you've seen him flirt with many girls at parties, restaurants and at school itself.

You know the feeling. That ugly, heartbreaking feeling.

So why do you again feel like your heart is breaking over his now new date?

Normally all the dates Aemond goes on, never go any further. Aemond hasn't had a single girlfriend since your friendship began.

Nothing tells you that this date could be any different. Maybe he'll only go out with her two or three times and then tell you it was just something to hang out, as usual.

However, you never know.

The next day you and Aemond don't see each other during the day.

Normally on fridays you have class at seven in the morning while he has classes a little later, so once you finish getting ready you leave the apartment and head to the university.

In the course of your classes, your friend Aileen tells you that since you probably don't plan on going out with her and your other friends to party tomorrow Saturday, it would at least be a good plan for you all to go out together tonight for dinner.

And you agree.

Leaving class the four of you head to a fast food restaurant and pass the time talking about school, gossip and so on. At least being with your friends makes you forget about the outside world for a moment and you just laugh and have a good time.

Until the hour starts to get late, Ryan drives Aileen to her residence in his car and Sara is the one who drives you.

You turn the doorknob and enter the apartment looking forward to sleep, as you should since it's almost two in the morning. Usually on weekends you stay up very late but this night especially doesn't seem to be the occasion.

You close the door behind you and start to head to your room, when you enter the living room and find Aemond very comfortable on one of the sofas looking at you at the same time you are looking at him.

You stay quiet for a moment, thinking about just walking in and wishing him good night, but he's the one who speaks first.

"There you are," he murmurs, looking at you seriously, not having his usual soft look as usual, "I was already worried."

"Why?"

"Why?" he repeats incredulously, "I didn't know where you were. I sent you hundreds of messages and you didn't answer. Also I called you and still nothing."

You frown.

"That's not true. You didn't call me."

"I did call you, Y/N."

He tells you more serious than before, almost annoyed and you, confused, pick up your phone and turn on the screen to see that he did indeed call you and sent you hundreds of messages.

The problem? You had your phone on mute and being with your friends you didn't really bother to take your phone out of your pocket.

You let out a long breath and put it back with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, it was on mute," you say briefly.

"And where were you?"

"I went to dinner with friends."

Now he lets out a sigh.

"You could at least let me know you were going to arrive late."

At first you think to yourself that you don't understand why he makes such a big deal about it. As if he wouldn't do exactly the same thing you've done when he decides to go off with his friends to party.

However, you don't want to argue, you just want to sleep.

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," you mumble, then yawn, "I'll go to sleep."

You are about to walk back to your room but he speaks again.

"So soon?"

You watch him sleepily as he, in his most comfortable clothes, seems to be watching one of his favorite documentaries with some chips, like you always do together every friday.

Except this friday.

"It's two in the morning, Aemond."

"Yes, I know, but I thought you might want to watch a movie, as usual," he says softly, "I bought some of the pizza you like, and also some of the—

"I'm full and very sleepy now, Aem. Another day, yeah?"

You don't even wait for an answer, you just go to your room.

And the next morning you wake up later than usual and you don't even want to get out of bed.

Fortunately you don't run into Aemond, even though saturday mornings is when you have breakfast together and watch movies until noon. But not today.

And you know perfectly well it's because you've been avoiding him. It's what you always do when Aemond lets you know about his next date or after you see him making out with some girl at a party.

And you know you're wrong. But that's the only way you can stop feeling that little sharp pain in your chest and this discomfort all over your being.

Until night falls, you and Aemond finally talk after not seeing each other all day to tell you he's leaving. He don't even need to say where.

Then he leaves and you are left alone in the apartment.

Finally, what you were hoping for and dreading at the same time happens.

Aemond has fallen in love. Your best friend has fallen in love.

In the end that girl wasn't just to hang out or to forget about her overnight. Aemond went on countless dates with her, which was unusual and eventually the two formalized everything and started dating.

You stopped avoiding him because you knew you couldn't do it forever. You both live together, he is your best friend and if he is going through this now, as much as it hurts, you can only smile and feel happy for him because he really looks happy.

You even met the girl, Alys Rivers.

And as soon as you saw her for the first time when Aemond brought her to the apartment to introduce the two of you, you understood.

Alys is tall, black-haired, with beautiful features, a slender body and possesses the most intense and striking green eyes you've ever seen. Even the way she spoke, smiled, laughed and walked was striking, she was alluring, everything about her screamed the word sexy and elegant.

How could Aemond not like her, when she is so educated, beautiful and also studies the same as him?

Now you understood why Aemond wanted things to really work out this time with this girl. And now everything, little by little, has been different.

With your best friend now having someone, now his time is counted between college and her.

The two of you still spend time together, you live together obviously, but you have seen each other in less time when before the first person you saw when you woke up was Aemond and when you went to sleep as well.

They are getting shorter and shorter on fridays for movies and series, on saturdays you barely see each other during the day and on sundays he totally disappears from the apartment and you don't see each other at all.

Luckily today is friday and Aemond apparently has no plans, not even with Alys, as you both find yourselves watching your favorite movie in the living room while eating chips and as much junk food as possible.

"From so many times you've made me watch this movie with you, I'm already starting to hate it."

You look at your best friend in surprise and completely indignant and then throw a pillow that hits him perfectly in the face.

"How dare you? I didn't say anything about your boring and incredibly long documentaries."

Now he's the one looking at you surprised and indignant.

"What did you just say?"

"Just some of them, not all of them," you clarify, "But those some of them are really unbearable."

"You know what your problem is? That you love the plot of some people trying to get out of a huge maze while my documentaries talk about true historical facts and not pure fiction about dystopias."

"Boring," you sing in long tones.

He lets out a small laugh as he shakes his head and you look at him with a small amused smile.

"You are unbearable."

"Oh come on Aemond, you still like these movies, even if you don't want to admit it."

"Not in a million years."

"You keep fooling yourself but you're not fooling me."

He doesn't say anything back to you because at that moment he receives a message and he looks at his phone quickly.

You watch him briefly, slowly erasing your smile, already anticipating what is going to happen and he confirms it with his next words while still focused on his screen.

"Alys wants me to go with her to a party with her friends."

You don't say anything, you just focus on the movie, avoiding making a bad face, telling yourself to control yourself.

"Well, you don't mind, do you?" he observes you, "I have to go now and pick her up."

You instantly put on a nonchalant face and deny without taking your eyes off the movie.

"Of course not."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," he says as he gets up, walks over to place a quick kiss on your forehead and then rushes off to his room to get ready.

After that, that's what happens all the time now.

When he finally keeps you company to watch a movie or a series, Alys calls him and he runs to her. It has even happened several times that you arrive at the apartment after school and they are here hanging out.

On saturdays he runs to have breakfast with her, he also leaves with her that same day in the night, also on fridays and on sundays the two of them barely see each other in the night.

Even many nights Aemond has not come to sleep and the next morning when he finally comes back to the apartment, he tells you that he had spent the night at Alys' sisterhood with her.

Alys has also spent nights here. You overhear her and him as they arrive late at the apartment and head to her room. Fortunately you haven't heard anything more than that.

And because of all this, it is that you have become closer to your friends and have gone to as many parties with them, as you can't bear to arrive at the apartment knowing that Aemond is not there and won't show up until the next day.

You know you have developed a dependency on him, which you know is wrong and you avoided with all your might that it wasn't so but in the end it was so.

That's why now you're thankful that you're hanging out more with your other friends. But still, you miss your best friend a lot. He doesn't have time for you anymore and you can't help but feel sad, disappointed and broken because of that.

You understand that Alys is his girlfriend and the best friend shouldn't be more important than the girlfriend, but still, you can't help it.

You're happy for him, you really are. So now you're just left to be content with the little times he and you now have together. Like, for example, his birthday.

He had already told you how he plans to go with his family during the afternoon and then in the night he wants to go out partying with his friends, with you and Alys.

He told you that you could invite your friends, who fortunately they accepted since you didn't want to be alone surrounded by Aemond's friends, whom you know very little and his girlfriend.

So now you get up earlier than usual to go get his present and once you get back to the apartment you hide it in your room, then when you go out again he opens the door of his room at the same time, still sleepy and you throw yourself in his arms.

"Happy birthday!" you exclaim happily between his chest and neck.

He lets out a hoarse little laugh as he locks you in his arms.

"Thank you, pretty one."

You pull away from him smiling.

"How are you feeling?"

He raises an expectant eyebrow at you, amused, still recovering from his sleep.

"How do I feel about my birthday?"

"Yes," you reply simply, "How does it feel to wake up and know that you are now twenty-one?"

"I feel younger instead of older."

"Oh really?"

"When you turn twenty-one you'll understand."

"And why is that?"

He looks at you more expectantly than before and crosses his arms, watching you with amusement.

"That's a lot of talk, tell me what you're hiding."

You instantly feign innocence.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's my birthday present, isn't it?"

"I mean… it is your birthday, but not-hey!" you shout as you see him quickly walk past you and head to your room, where his present is.

"You're hiding my present, I know."

"No, no, wait."

You stand in front of him, between him and your door, panicking, and he looks at you expectantly again.

"Yes, yes, it's your birthday present."

"And I can't see it yet?"

"Yes, but not like this," you say indignantly and then look at him confused, "How did you know?"

He laughs.

"Because I know you."

And soon Aemond finds himself opening the huge gift box you bought for him so you could put in the little puppy you decided to adopt and then Aemond could adopt him.

"No fucking way," he says in disbelief and surprise.

And so he soon holds in his arms the small female dog of the Maltipoo breed with a very light brown fur.

Adoration completely covers your best friend's gaze and he completely melts into the little dog as he licks his hand and face at the same time as Aemond squeals with tenderness and gives him kisses.

And the image couldn't have been more tender and adorable for you.

"I adopted her. She was given to me with a name, it's on her collar. If you don't like it, you can change it, although I think that one suits her perfectly."

Aemond, still watching and holding him tenderly, looks at the collar and reads it.

"Vhagar," and then turns his attention to her with a small smile, "Your name is Vhagar?" he says in a honeyed tone, "Yeah? Do you like that name, my little one?"

He plays with it for a few more moments and then turns his attention back to you, still with all that tenderness and that little smile of excitement.

"Thank you so much, my pretty one."

And again you both embrace while Vhagar is in the middle of you both and also starts to lick your hand making you laugh in tenderness.

After spending the whole morning together playing and getting to know Vhagar, whom Aemond doesn't want to let go, then you both go to a restaurant near the apartment to start with his birthday and just be the two of you.

And finally Aemond goes to his parents' house. He invited you but you decided it was better for him to spend some time with his family only, so you stay home with Vhagar.

Eventually the hours pass and the night comes, which means it's time.

You fix your hair in soft waves, put on a little more makeup than usual to highlight your face, and choose a black skirt, white top, and black booties from your closet.

Aemond calls you down the hall telling you it's time and you both leave the apartment to go pick up Alys and then get to the frat house where his friends live.

The night goes by incredibly long. Even though you are in the company of your friends, you can't help but stare at Aemond who enjoys his girlfriend's company more than anyone else.

You only manage to take one picture with him when you used to fill your gallery on his birthdays, even played every party game possible and now… he's only with Alys.

Even by the time it's too late, the party still isn't over and he finally talks to you after hours to ask if one of your friends would take you home, since he's sleeping over with Alys.

You don't say anything else, just that Ryan will give you a ride and he nods to go back to Alys. It's not like you could tell him anything, you still didn't want to, because after all it is his birthday.

Today is another very vague and rare night in which Aemond stays at home with you and does not leave with Alys.

You don't complain, on the contrary, you enjoy his and Vhagar's company. You are both watching one of his documentaries and it is a really interesting one, not one of the boring ones.

Aemond talks to you and explains you about his assumptions, also about what he thinks while you are sitting next to him and Vhagar is very comfortably asleep on his lap.

You also share your opinions and some doubts that he answers, both of you without taking your eyes off the screen.

Time passes and you happily believe that you will last this way until the early morning, as it used to be, feeling excited and enjoying his company on nights like these, as you had missed him.

When then, it happens.

You hear the notification of how a message has been sent to him and he looks at the screen, then confirms what you didn't want so much, feeling instantly disappointed.

"There's a party at Alys' sisterhood, she wants me to come."

And knowing he'll look at you, you quickly feign your unconcerned, unaffected look.

"Do you want to come?"

You want to laugh and let out a snort, because it's not like you like the idea of going to his girlfriend's party knowing that he'll leave you alone to be with her.

"No," you reply in the softest possible voice, "I'll stay here with Vhagar."

"Are you sure?" he looks at you with a grimace.

"It's all right Aemond, you go."

He lets out a long breath as he looks back down at his screen to move his fingers on it briefly, then gently removes Vhagar from his lap and gets up from the couch to go get ready.

All your good looks disappear as he turns his back to you and before you know it, you let out a long sigh of disappointment loud enough for him to stop and watch you.

Nerves get the better of you and you look at him again pretending everything is fine, but he knows it's not.

"Y/N," he calls you in a soft voice, walking back to you, "I know we haven't been spending time together like before and—

"You'll be getting late," you quickly try to evade the subject so as not to talk about it, "If you're not going to arrive here to sleep let me know by message."

He lets out a long breath, looking a little distrustful and worried.

"Look," he says as he takes a seat next to you again, "I just want to tell you that I know we don't spend time together like we used to. I don't think you or I expected me to suddenly have a girlfriend—

Clearly not.

You think.

"But I want you to know that not spending time with you was not intentional," he assures you, then takes your hands in his, "And I'm going to make it up to you, I promise."

That's what you always say.

You want to say it, but you just stay silent, watching him, while he looks at you with all the tenderness and with that look that convinces you to believe in his words.

"I've missed our weekends, believe me. And I hate to leave you like this," he confesses, "But I really don't want you to think that I'm choosing Alys over you, I love you both very much and I want to have that balance in my life between her and you."

And at this point her words are actually hurting you instead of helping you.

"Aemond, it's okay," you assure him, even though it's not, "Alys is your girlfriend. It's obvious that you spend more time with her than with me and I totally understand that."

"Really?"

"Yes, I promise," you assure him and you couldn't be more of a liar at the moment.

"I still feel bad."

"Aemond, it's okay. You should go now, I don't want to delay you any more with this hour," you say so the conversation is already over.

"No, just let me…" he insists, then lets out a long breath, "Look, I know you," he murmurs, looking at you sadly, "I know none of this is right. But I promise I will make it up to you," he assures you, "After all, my family's ball at Dragonstone is next weekend, remember?"

You frown, grateful for the change in conversation but still a little confused.

"I thought it wasn't happening this year."

"It has to be held every year, my mother would have a heart attack if it didn't happen and you know it."

You both laugh a little, while he watches you attentively without letting go of your hands, as well as you let go of his.

"So we'll go together?" you ask, not entirely convinced.

And at your question he is offended.

"Of course we'll go together. We go together every year."

"Yes, but now that you—

"I'm not taking Alys," he interrupts you and his words surprise you, "This ball belongs to both of us, it always has. And I'm not going to break the tradition."

And at his words, this time, genuinely, you can't help but place a small closed-mouth smile as you feel how again this little spark between him and you begins to revive little by little.

Also the hope, that everything will be again, even if it's just a little, like before.

"Also now your birthday is next," he says with a small smile, "I've already got your present, just to let you know."

And at this you put on a small smile.

"You're not supposed to tell me, dumbass."

He laughs.

"I wanted you to know," he says softly.

Then a brief, comfortable silence settles between the two of you, you both smile softly and all seems to be well again between you.

"Then start getting everything ready for the ball, okay?"

"All right," you nod, feeling happy.

"It will be amazing. You'll see."

You believe him.

You really do.

The ball on behalf of his family is a way to celebrate the success of the great company they run, as well as to have the possibility to form new partners or make better contracts. Since the friendship between you and Aemond began, he has invited you every year to be his escort and you have never let him down.

All the decorations are wonderful, the food too and eventually when the important people leave, that's when the real party starts for you and it's all great fun with Aemond's brothers who invite friends.

You thought that this time it wouldn't be like that since he has his girlfriend now and maybe he would want to take her instead of you, but how wrong you were.

And not too long after that it is your birthday, which is a very special day for you and Aemond, as every year he really makes you feel very special.

With those dates coming up and these words of promise, what could go wrong?

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #hotd aemond

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coffeeshades · 1 year

Text

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

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

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

Simple as that.

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

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

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

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

You: Bummer. Sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

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

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

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

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

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

Until his eyes landed on you.

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

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

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

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

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

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

That voice.

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

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

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

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

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

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, tin can man!"

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

“Give up yet, old man?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New York City

December 15, 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, he hasn’t changed his mind.

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

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

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

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

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

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

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

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

•••

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

You: I'm here, tonto.

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love it,” you tell him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweet dreams.”

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

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

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

“Here, try this one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.”

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

“Please do.”

•••

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

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what?” Pedro interrupts.

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

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

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

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

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

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

He's still up, you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I have some rules, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can cum now.”

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

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

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

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

“Don't get cocky.”

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

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

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.”

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“More, please, I need more."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

You chuckle, “Leaving.”

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

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

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.”

“Pedro, we said—"

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

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

“Okay, I'll stay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire.

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

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

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

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

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

“Espero que te guste.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-faster, please,”

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

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

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

“Can I wash your hair?”

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

“Deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will come with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pedro.”

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

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

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

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

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

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

#love is complicated fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fic #my writing

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