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Blow by Blow | 0.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader au

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Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, no warnings in particular for this one

…

“Okay, um — no, no,” Natasha winces, shaking her head at you. She grabs your knee and pushes it back down. “No legs — no kicking.”

Jake snorts at the other side of the gym, leaning his head back, then remembering he’s supposed to be spotting Javy, who’s failing out of a bench press. “Oh shit.”

He catches the bar and helps his friend lift it back onto the rack.

“But… I saw on TV—“

“Different sport, kid.” Payback chuckles from the side of the ring, leaning against the ropes. Your lips part slightly, confused. Bradley leans against the doorframe to the office, arms folded over his chest.

You nod slowly as Natasha guides you back into the correct stance. You squint at the heavy bag, readying yourself to go again.

In the month since you’ve moved in, you’ve gotten better at this — but there’s still a lot you don’t know. Still, Natasha has enjoyed seeing you come out of your shell.

Interviewing each of the staff members for the website really helped. Sitting down with each of them for a couple of hours and doing a video interview with them to post on the About section of the website, just a friendly Q&A to make people feel more comfortable coming in and meeting the team.

If it helped you warm up to the idea of training here, then it would help others too.

Bradley is the only one that you haven’t managed to pin down for an interview yet, but he has been busy — he has the most clients around here because he’s been around the longest

Maverick has been loving your ideas so far. He thinks you’re a tech genius for some basic website design and creative ideas.

This entire month has been like a dream that you’re just waiting to wake up from. Even that evening, after hours spent at a local bar — you’re on cloud nine.

Maybe a couple too many drinks, maybe it’s just because you’re so happy, but you’ve been laughing all night.

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you off at home? — It’s on my way.” Payback offers, dangling his keys from his index finger. He’s got a fight coming up and he has cut out all alcohol, but he just has a tiny little sports car that won’t fit everyone. Bradley lives closest.

“Well, yeah — I’m not going to let her walk home on her own,” Bradley answers as he shoots a quick look over to you, grinning with Bob and Mickey as the three of you make plans for the weekend coming. “Besides, it’s not that far out of my way.”

Jake nods his head and pats Bradley’s shoulder, taking Bradley’s spot in that tiny little sports car, “Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow then. Don’t forget you agreed to take care of my eight a.m. session.”

Bradley calls out an agreement and waves the two of them off as he walks over to you.

“You ready?” He asks gently.

“Oh — yeah. Okay, bye guys, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” You stick your arms out and they hug a side of you each, then call out their goodnights to the each of you.

“What did you guys end up deciding to do this weekend?” Bradley asks, reaching past you and curling his fingers around the empty glass in your hand. He takes it and sets it onto the table beside you, then catches hold of your hand and turns you towards the door.

You comply wordlessly, letting him steer you towards the exit. He drops your hand and lets you walk ahead of him.

“Bob knows this hiking trail that has some really great views, and I’ve never been on a real hike, so we’re all going to take Tank with us.”

He hums behind you to show that he’s listening, stepping outside into the night right behind you. “Sounds like fun.”

“Do you want to come?” You offer, turning your head to look at him, your features soft and expectant. Not quite hopeful. Rooster shakes his head.

“Can’t, I’m working this weekend.” Bradley answers. It’s not a lie, he should be working this weekend, but he’s also kind of the boss and hasn’t ever taken notice of the hours that he’s supposed to be working.

You inhale softly, not bothering to argue with him about it. You kind of don’t want him there, anyway. Being all brooding and weird — it would be more fun without him there. That feels mean. It’s not that you don’t like Bradley, it’s just that he’s kind of a dick sometimes.

“You alright? — you’ve gone all quiet, all of a sudden.” Bradley nudges his hand into the back of your bicep as you walk ahead of him. You turn and look over your shoulder once more.

Maybe it’s all the fresh air, but you feel a thousand times more buzzed out here than you had in there.

“Could we walk back along the marina?” You slow down so that you’re at his side. Bradley nods his head, it’ll only add an extra ten minutes to the walk, and sometimes it’s nice down there at night time.

You walk ahead as he pushes his hands into his pockets and watches you. Bradley trained with Jett for a couple of years, he had known from the first session that Jett was an asshole — he just hadn’t realised that it went further than that. Maybe he could have done something earlier.

Your skin cools quickly with the ocean air, goosebumps rising on your skin from the sudden change in temperature.

Finally, you round the path and grow close enough to see the boats, the lights of the city and right out over the bay. You slow down to take notice of it.

“So, do you live near here?” You ask Bradley without looking back to him, gaze turned out over the water. Bradley watches you walk in front of him, his eyes on your legs as you narrowly miss each crack in the pavement. Inches from stumbling, somehow staying on your feet.

“Near Little Italy.” He answers you.

You scrunch your brows and turn quickly towards him, walking backwards without slowing. His features tighten, eyes on your heels — there’s a rock on the path, your shoe lands centimetres from it and you escape breaking your ankle.

“This is out of your way, then.” You realise.

Bradley lifts his gaze, looking at you with the faintest hint of amusement on his face. He nods slowly. “Yeah. But it’s alright.”

“I didn’t say thank you.” You remind him, lips quirking up into a playful smile. His mouth toys at a smirk. He likes it when you forget yourself around him, leave all of that worrying and quietness behind. He can see why the others like you so much when you’re like this.

He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans and nods again. He smirks back at you, “That’s alright too.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at him. “If I keep training with Nat, pretty soon you’ll be asking me to walk you home.”

He chuckles lowly. “Is that right?”

You nod your head and slow down, letting him catch up to you. He slows, standing in front of you, brows scrunching. He opens his mouth to question your motives, then stops as you turn your head and look out over the water.

Salty sea air, fuzzy bright lights around the harbour, warm skin as you lean forwards into him. It’s a half-intentional move, you want to be closer but you’re also just tipsy and not that steady on your feet.

Bradley’s hands find your waist, unfazed as you tip your chin to look at him. Maybe it’s the liquid courage, but you aren’t in the slightest bit bashful about staring at him.

He lets you, glancing down at the patterned florals on your dress as his fingers lay still over the material. As his eyes meet yours again, they’re especially dark in this light, almost black. Nothing like the golden hue from this evening’s sunset.

He inhales slowly. Pomegranate, vanilla violet, mahogany wood and amber. His fingers smooth softly over your waist, eyes not faltering from yours.

You press closer into him, palm splayed out open on his chest, warm muscle under your fingertips. He stares at you, for a second questioning whether or not you’re about to do what he thinks you’re going to do. He leans into your touch, letting your lips press softly into his.

His breath stops in his airways. You mouth on his, just for a moment. As you go to pull back, his lips chase yours. You hum softly into him, meeting him with another gentle kiss. His bottom lip slotted between yours as his fingers curl into the fabric of your dress.

Pulling back slowly, you look up at him through your lashes and take one step back. Bradley loosens his hold on you, then drops his arms back to his sides.

You turn away from him and continue ahead.

“What was that for?” Bradley’s brows scrunch. You take a deep breath and sigh contentedly as you continue along the path, walking ahead of him once again.

“I just thought it would be a good spot for a first kiss.”

Your cheeks are warm, your hands cold as you trail along the path at the side of the marina. Bradley walks just a pace behind you, his hands pushed deep into the front pockets of his jeans.

Just when he thinks he’s got you figured out, you’re off ahead of him again. He shakes his head softly. A good spot for a first kiss.

He squints at the back of your head — that implies that there will be more kisses to come, is he meant to kiss you again?

Your heels clack across the parking lot, around the side of the building. As you near the base of the metal steps up to your apartment, you turn back around to say goodnight.

His hands press into your hips, curling into the fabric of your dress as he walks you back — your breath hitches in your throat — a soft sound is knocked from you as your back hits into the red brick of Bradshaw’s exterior.

Rooster takes a second, looking you over, searching your features for a sign of doubt before he leans forwards and presses his weight into you. You swallow softly.

He lifts one hand, curling it around your jaw, turning your chin upwards and pressing his lips against yours. It’s soft at first, tender like yours had been. Then, he presses himself harder into you, sliding his hand around to the back of your neck, pulling you harder into him.

A surprised hum slips out against Bradley’s mouth, but as he urges his tongue past your lips, the sound is followed by a delightfully contented moan.

Your hands slide up his chest, coming to rest against his ribs, almost like you’re going to push him off. You’ve got no intentions of stopping this just yet. Bradley pushes himself forwards, needing to be closer.

Bradley uses his height against you, crowding you against the wall, pressing the entire length of his body into yours and slotting his thick, denim-clad thigh between your legs. Your dress bunches up out of his way, not hindering his access in the slightest.

He squeezes your hip and slides his arm around your back, grinding himself forwards into you. You’re supposed to be shy, always so quiet. Now, you rock yourself onto his thigh, fingers curling into his t-shirt.

Lifting your leg to graze it against his thigh, your heel knocks gently into the bottom step. He presses you harder into the wall, caressing his tongue into yours. The ding of your heel against the metal step is soft enough to have not disturbed you. The loud bark that comes from upstairs following that gentle ding, though — that makes you flinch.

You pull apart, lips parted. Staring up at him, breathing heavily. Your skin burns as you realise who you’re with and what just happened — and where you are.

“Um… I should,” You breathe out, blinking at him, “I should go and let him out.”

Bradley nods his head. It’s a couple of seconds before his brain catches up and he finally lets you go, stepping back and freeing you from being trapped against the wall.

“Okay.” He nods, wetting his lips with his tongue. He thinks back to the conversation he had with Natasha. Whatever happened between you and Jett. It was probably a bad idea to—

“Do you want to come up?”

He stares at you for a second, lips quirking up at the sides. He exhales softly, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Sure.”

You aren’t even sure why you asked him, it seems like a bad idea before you’ve even said it — it seems like an even worse idea when he’s headed up the steps behind you.

“You have to stay here and let Tank sniff you or he’s going to freak out.”

Rooster nods his head. It can’t be that bad, he has learnt his lesson from last time. He waits outside whilst you go in and calm Tank down, clipping him into his leash to let him out.

Once Tank has sniffed him, you allow Rooster to wait inside while you get Tank settled. He’s waiting by the counter with his arms folded over his chest by the time you’re done. It doesn’t feel the same.

Maybe the moment has passed. You swallow softly, shifting uncomfortably as Tank settles down into his spot on the couch. Glancing across, you open your mouth to comment on how Tank is finally warming up to him. Tank growls lowly, a warning for Bradley to stay where he is.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and hums, “Maybe I should go.”

“But…” You start out softly.

He steps towards you and Tank growls again. You swallow softly and shoot a look to your dog. Bradley takes one more step towards you, and Tank is silent. The second that Bradley reaches out for you, he growls again.

This has got to be some kind of divine intervention from Natasha. He shouldn’t be here, doing this.

“Alright, Bambi — I’m going to head home. I’ll see you in the morning.” He breathes out, shaking his head softly. You open your mouth to protest. He pats your shoulder platonically and heads for the door. You close it again quickly.

You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough. This really hot guy, who you have to see every day, who just rejected you. You close your eyes for a second and sigh. You let him leave without a word.

…

Nightcall

Rafa Quintero x gn!reader (no particular warnings? the usual for the show, nothing explicit), 3563 words

a/n : here is a self-indulgent Rafa Pov for @narcolini and I (and all the Rafa babes out there) ❤ Nightcall is also the name of a London Grammar song and it slaps and it's underrated

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx

It is dark outside when Rafa opens his eyes. He’s not sure what is pulling him out of his sleep, but the silk sheets around him are disorienting. He knows he’s home, there is no doubt in his mind, but still, the way his sweat clings to his body, sticking the sheets to his naked legs, bringing back memories of the nightmare he was having mere seconds ago, it all makes him wonder if he’s really awake. It’s the second ring that grounds him, shakes him to the core, makes his heart skip a beat. By the third ring, he’s already on his feet. His chains are cold on his chest, a harsh contrast against his heated skin.

No one ever calls him in the middle of the night, they always know better. Fix it by yourselves, pendejos, or make sure it can wait until morning. He’s not sure if he should be angry, he’s still so damn tired and his eyes hurt. His palms are digging in his eyesockets when it rings a fourth time. He picks it up, the movement so fast that the wire tenses, almost pulling the phone off the nightstand.

‘’ Rafa? ‘’

It’s you. Your voice sounds far away, a whisper almost lost in the buzzing of the line, but it’s you. He says your name back in disbelief, it's almost a question. He hates how his voice sounds, hoarse, raspy.

‘’ Rafa, dios, I- ‘’

There’s rustling on the other side as if you’re readjusting the phone between your ear and your shoulder, ‘’ I didn’t want to call you so late. Fuck, I didn’t want to call you at all, but I- ‘’

You take a deep breath and he can hear how it gets caught in your throat, shaking on the way out. He knows he should say something, but he feels lightheaded, glued to the floor, like all air has been sucked out of him. He can barely hear you against the sound of his heart echoing back to him through the plastic receiver.

‘’ Are you alright? ‘’

It’s the only words he can muster, pulled out of him before he can even process them. God, it’s you, he can’t believe it. But the carpet under his toes feels real and the breeze coming in from the window makes him shiver. He starts to believe he dreamed it all when you don’t answer him, when the line goes back to being silent. He had stopped dreaming about you after a while, back when your paths had separated, when he had told himself he didn’t need to be distracted by this, by you.

‘’ No? ‘’ It sounds like a question, but it’s hesitant like you’re waiting for him to tell you the answer. ‘’ I mean, yes, but- I- damn it. ‘’

Something clashes on the other side, plastic being cracked, being hit. He knows it’s your doing and he realizes you’re calling him from a payphone. Rafa can see it clear as day, your hand hitting the transparent window, putting your anger on something, anything.

‘’ This was a mistake. I’m sorry for waking you up. ‘’

This stirs something in him. Fear, desperation. You can’t hang up now, not after all this time.

‘’ Don’t. ‘’ He is gripping the phone so hard, he can feel the plastic wince at the strength. ‘’ Tell me what’s wrong. Don’t hang up. I can fix it. ‘’

Fix it, fix this, us. Rafa can hear you breathing on the other side, the rain hitting his window on his right, pouring out on the balcony. He tries again, ‘’ Tell me what happened. ‘’

He hears you shuffling once more and then it’s the sound of coins moving around, hair brushing the receiver.

‘’ Let me- ‘’ A car is passing by, splashing water around. You sniff, ‘’ Let me put more money in this thing, okay? ‘’

He doesn’t like how defeated your voice sounds, how tired it is. Every peso that he hears cling against the metal is torture for him. He had never been a patient man, he’s been told that a lot, he doesn’t care.

‘’ I’ve been doing business con El Golfo, yeah? ‘’

He knows, of course, he knows about you and Ábrego. He couldn’t stop himself from sending someone to sneak around, to pay good money to know your whereabouts. Rafa didn’t believe you, back then, when you had told him you were calling it quits. He had expected you to ease into the coke business as he did, coming back a week or two later, begging for him to let you in again. He would’ve, but you never came back around, not this time.

‘’ We moved around products for them tonight. I think they betrayed me, everyone’s- ‘’

He can hear you swallow. He can see you leaning forward, pinching the bridge of your nose. Your voice quivers.

‘’ Everyone’s dead. I think. Whatever they paid the police, it was good money, they didn’t even bother to arrest anyone. ‘’

His ribcage is hurting him, a weird pain going straight through his chest, he’s sweating again.

‘’ Where are you? ‘’ He croaks. His whole body is stuck in a weird loop, he can’t move, he’s shaking at the same time.

It’s your next words that finally wake him up, feet turning and burning against the carpet. Please come get me, Rafa. I can’t do this. He’s moving now, and everything is so fast and so slow. He grabs a shirt that he doesn’t button up from a chair, a pair of pants from the first drawer. You stay right there, okay? I’m on my way. I’m coming. He’s calling out as he goes down the stairs, screaming for a car to be brought around. He’s angry now. Whatever shock and insecurity were keeping him stuck to the phone vanished. He can feel the cold metal of the gun he tucks into the back of his jeans, he can hear the squeal of his leather boots as they press against the marble floor.

In the back of his mind, he knows. He knows he should call Miguel, to let him know what is going on, to hear him say he might be going into a trap, that you chose your own path, and to let you deal with the consequences.

He knows that. He doesn’t care.

He didn’t care back then either when you had left, couldn’t give a shit, he told Miguel. Clearly, you weren’t up to joining the higher leagues, he thought. Who wouldn’t want more? Sell more, make more? Spend more? It bothered him so much at first, itching in his skin to think you didn’t understand it, understand him. He couldn’t tell when you had started to drift apart, idolizing different ideas, different lives. When he met Sofia a few weeks afterward, he thought it would solve it, solve the burning hole of betrayal in his chest, and oh was he mistaken.

His hands squeeze around the wheel thinking about it. It’s pouring hard outside, wipers going back and forth. He’s not angry at you anymore, not as much.

The tires screech when he finally stops, so fast that the movement sends him forward, bracing against the wheel. He can see your silhouette in the booth, blurred from the rain. You’re on the phone, talking to someone, and for a second, Miguel is behind him in the car, telling him he’s been betrayed again, that he was stupid to fall for it again, that-

Rafa opens the door, water slipping from the roof, soaking his sleeve. He can’t stay inside with his own thoughts. He made his choice. He’s here, like he told you he would be. His hair is sticking to his forehead, water dripping down his jaw. He lets the car run, he doesn’t plan on staying in the open anyway, telling you to stay at this street corner for so long was already dangerous as it is.

He can see your head following him as he walks around the hood. Steady steps, pushing the water out in ripples. He still can’t make out your face through the fogged window and for a second he hesitates again, almost catching the sidewalk with the top of his shoe in the process. He could leave and never think about this night again, he hasn’t looked into your eyes yet, he could go home and pretend he’s dreamed all of it.

You jump when he pulls the plastic door open,

‘’ Jesus, Rafa. Fuck, you scared me. ‘’ He watches your hands open and clenches back on the receiver, ‘’ I mean, I saw you get out. I don’t know why- ‘’

You’re soaked, from head to toe, who knows how long you had been running around before you finally decided to call him. Heavy drops of water are falling from your hair unto your leather jacket, running down the front. It is almost too big for you, your hands haft hidden by the cuff of the sleeves. His eyes fall back to your face, but you’re already watching him, gripping the phone with both hands. He can hear someone calling your name on the other side. You blink once, twice, but you can’t seem to be able to look away. He knows he can’t. You wipe some water off your face, pushing the leather under your nose, using the movement to turn back to your phone call.

‘’ Alejandro, I have to go now. We’ll fix this. ‘’

And then you hang up. Metal against metal, the sound of coins bumping somewhere in the back, sliding the change at the front. He knows you won’t take it. That it will make some kids happy. Candy money. You turn to him, your lips are pale, slightly blue from the cold.

‘’ You’re here. ‘’

‘’ I told you I would. ‘’

He hopes you never doubted it the way he did. That you believed him when he said it, that no one was perched on your shoulder telling you to run away and to not look back. He feels the water that runs down his back, pressing the fabric to his skin. You sniff again, and he’s sure you’ll catch a cold,

‘’ Can you bring me home? ‘’

God, he wishes he could, but he knows you’re grasping at straws, only wishing to be home after a shit show of a night. He shakes his head.

‘’ You know I can’t do that. ‘’

You scoff, ‘’ You can’t say I didn’t try. ‘’

Rafa cracks a smile. It’s small, but it pulls at his lips, showing the long dimples on the side of his cheeks. You had missed him. Missed how easy it was to talk with him, to feel seen, understood without too many words. His brown locks are sticking to his head, curls springing back to life. He passes a hand through them,

‘’ You have somewhere else I can bring you? ‘’

You nod, and you almost have a heart attack when he raises his arm up, pushing the material of his sleeve up with his fingers to wipe some water off your face. The cotton rubs against your skin, leaving a warm feeling across your cheek that you can’t shake away.

‘’ There’s a safe house in a suburb north of here, if you can bring me there, I’ll owe you one. ‘’

Here you are, negotiating again as if he would ask anything from you in return. He knows you prefer to keep things between you calm and civilized right now. Pretend like this is just an exchange of services.

‘’ Don’t push it, now. Come on, bobo, get in the damn car. ‘’

He wishes he could tell you it’s not like that, that it has never been and never will, that you mean too much to just be treated like a distant coworker, but he doesn’t. He can’t, so he stays silent as he steps out of the way, holding the plastic door open, allowing you to brush past him.

Rafa moves towards his side of the car, leaning between the seats to unlock your door from the inside. You fall on your seat, leather jacket squeaking against the leather booth. The moment your door closes, he steps on the gas, leaving the payphone behind in a fraction of a second.

‘’ I told you Ábrego was a prick. ‘’

‘’ You always tell me lots of things, Rafa. ‘’

He’s waving his hands around the wheel and he’s bristling at the thought. Just the idea of Juan Garcia putting his hands on you-

‘’ I told you to stay with us, that we could make this work. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t listen. ‘’

He knows he is channelling his anger on the wrong person, but still, he wants you to be angry at him too. To lash out, to tell him why you left, why you thought you could find better elsewhere without them, without him.

‘’ Stop this, Rafa. This has nothing to do with Guadalajara- ’’

‘’¿A sí? Because I recall you calling us pinche sapos del gobierno or something like that? ‘’

He knew it had always bothered you when Miguel had started to play businessman, mingling around with politicians and CEOs. We are criminals, Rafa, you had told him once, we pay those guys off, we don’t try to do their jobs. You had tried telling Miguel, time and time again, but he didn’t get it, maybe he didn’t even care to.

‘’ Ay, por favor, you know I never liked how close Miguel was to those senators! We were always a politician snitching away from crumbling down! Why am I even fighting with you over this?! ‘’

You sigh, head falling between your hands. He couldn’t stop himself and he hates it, hate seeing you hurt, hate shouting at you like that. When you speak again, it’s muffled by your sleeves, barely strong enough to be heard over the engine.

‘’ If I knew you’d be shitting on me this whole ride I would have just dealt with this myself. ‘’

‘’ You’d probably be dead, is what you would be. ‘’

‘’ Fuck you, Rafa, fuck you, really. ‘’

He stays silent then, there’s nothing left to say. It’s always the same things he brings up, every time, but it never changes the outcome, no matter how much he wishes it did. He thinks back to your words earlier. If you can bring me there, I’ll owe you one. It’s the only thing he can think of to make you understand, to break the silence in the car. He turns to you,

‘’ You don’t owe me anything, you know. Ever. ‘’

You snort, fingers pushing at the vents on the dash, pushing the heat toward your feet. He can feel your eyes on him for a second, he can see the small smile on the side of your face.

‘’ Oh, because we’re friends again, now? You’re gonna stop being a pendejo or-? ‘’

He knows you’re laughing at him, trying to change the subject, to not let this moment get too emotional. His nose wrinkles, shaking his head in a failed attempt to mock you. His fingers reach for the A/C, making sure the heat is on.

‘’ You know I don’t mean it, right? ‘’ Being an asshole, he wants to say, ‘’ I’m just- ‘’

He is met with silence once again. Words stuck in his throat, blocking his airway. He kind of hoped you would finish his sentence so he wouldn’t have to say it out loud. Admit that he is wrong, that he missed you. To let you know how much your call tonight had messed up his inside in a way he hadn’t felt in so long.

‘’ I missed you too, Rafa. ‘’

It’s comforting, the way you say it, it’s soft and meaningful, he can’t stop the sigh of relief that comes out of his chest. Your hand raises up, pressing against his bicep, the fabric of his shirt pushing more water into his skin. Your thumb is moving up and down, warming him up the best you can.

‘’ But you’re still the biggest bitch ever. ‘’ Your hand is higher now, meeting the back of his head with a loud slap, ‘’ Who do you think you were, talking to me like that, tonto, mmh?! ‘’

‘’ Ouch! What are- ‘’

You swat at him again and another time for good measure, he dodges, so you pinch his cheek with two fingers instead,

‘’ I make my own choices and I learn from them. You better not ‘i-told-you-so’ me ever again. ‘’

He snickers, pushing you back into your own seat. For a second, you are kids again, meeting on the playground being the school. No responsibilities, no bounties on your heads.

‘’ It’s my job to knock some sense into you. ‘’

‘’ Maybe you should keep it for yourself, from what I’ve heard you need it. ‘’

He stops in front of a house, it’s dark and small, buried between all the other ones. He knew it was this one you meant, back at the street corner after you gave him the address, your old parent’s house. After you moved from Badiraguato for your dad’s new job it had been a miracle that you ended up finding each other again in Guadalajara.

‘’ You want me to go in with you? Make sure it’s safe? ‘’

Rafa knows that he’s staling, holding on to the last minutes before you inevitably get up and leave. You shake your head.

‘’ I’m sure it’s good. I’ll be fine. ‘’

You sigh, crossing and uncrossing your legs in your seat. He’s not sure what more to say, but you lean towards him, gently taking his hand between yours. It’s awkward, fingers intertwining with yours like you two had never done this before. You smile, it’s soft, barely there, he notices a scar that wasn’t there before.

‘’ You be careful out there, Rafa. ‘’

‘’ You know I’m the one they’re scared of now, hmm? ‘’

You scoff, squeezing his hand with yours, a warning. Listen to me. This is serious, tonto. You look up at him, and it’s sadness he can see in your eyes, regret maybe.

‘’ Don’t be a smartass, you know what I mean. ‘’

The movement is shaky and awkward again, but you bring your joined hands up, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand. It’s warm, electrifying and he can’t do anything but hope that you would just stay here with him.

You’re opening the door before he can say anything else, sliding out of your seat before he can tell you that he will be careful if you ask him. As you get out of the car, your hand slipping from his, he leans forward and tugs at your sleeve, pulling you half back in your seat.

‘’ Are you going to call again? ‘’

Rafa feels like he is shouting, anything to have your attention, to make you stay with him a second more. He hates that he can't tell what you're thinking, what's behind your eyes. They're shining from the street lights outside, slightly wet from the cold, completely unreadable to him. He’s begging, he realizes, he never does that, but he doesn’t care.

‘’ Do you want me too? ‘’ you breathe out. Your voice is small, hardly audible over the raindrops falling on the roof.

‘’ I do. ‘’ I really want you to, he is itching to say, please, it’s pulling his chest.

‘’ Then I will. ‘’

He watches your mouth move before the words finally start to make sense. Your head moves down, body leaning to meet his in-between the seats. Your lips touch the corner of his mouth, the skin of his cheek touching his teeth from the motion. You are close to him for less than a second, already moving back to the door before he realizes, but still, he can smell your perfume, taste the rain and the sweat that is mixed in it. Rafa can feel the cold of your fingers on his forearm, the heat that is spilling from your lips into his whole being.

You close the door behind you with a small wave, mouthing him a thank you through the window. It was barely a second, a second where his heart had stopped and his insides had melted. Another second pass and you are gone, inside and safe, door closed, locked. I really want you to, he was itching to say, please, it’s pulling his chest again.

Then I will. You would. Rafa had never been a patient man, he had been told that a lot, and he never cared. But tonight, tomorrow, for weeks or months, he could wait, he decided. He just has to wait for the phone to ring again.

Hips Don't Lie || Pedro Pascal

a/n: my Spanish isn't the best now that I'm older, so if what i wrote is wrong, I'm so sorry 😭. i made A's and could actually speak fluently, but then i lost it after high school and college 😡. i may just have to re-teach myself in my free time. it's always good to know multiple languages! plus. Spanish is such a beautiful language, oh my word.

warnings: alluded smut at the end, Pedro being cheeky about having dessert first, sweetness, established relationship 💗

word count: 699

Pedro Pascal Masterlist || My Library

“What on earth are you doing?” You ask your boyfriend as you stumble into the kitchen. Music blared from the speaker, Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie. Pedro had a spatula in hand, brown eyes heavily focused on the pan on the stove. 

Whipping his head up, brown locks disheveled slightly from what appeared to result from a much-needed nap, Pedro’s smile fans across his face. 

“I was trying to surprise you?” He says. “I didn’t think you’d be home this early, sweetheart.” He motions you over. 

A soft giggle escapes you as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Smells amazing,” You look down into the pan of red pasta sauce. 

“Let’s hope it tastes good,” He laughs. He takes some of the sauce onto the spatula and brings it to your mouth. Parting your lips, you take some into your mouth, moaning at the luscious taste. The moment he sees your eyes tip back, he knows he’s declared the winner. 

“Shakira?” You chuckle. Pedro was unavoidably moving his hips in enchanting circles, your eyes focusing on his backside that jostled back and forth in a pair of athletic shorts. 

“Can’t go wrong with her,” He winks, bringing you forward after setting the spatula on the ceramic plate. He takes your fingertips, lacing his through yours, and begins to move you back and forth. 

Laughter escapes you as you allow him to move you. Front and back the two of you go.

“Come on, baby!” Pedro exclaims, holding your hips. He pushes them in fluid motions. “I know you’ve got it in you. I’ve seen you dance.” 

Giggling, the fluidity of your hips put Pedro in a trance, his eyes hyper-fixated on you. “Esa es mi chica,” He purs, accent flooding your ears. 

He twirls you in circles, bringing your back to his chest. “Back and forth, there you go,” Pedro continues holding your hips. 

“You’re putting us in a questionable position, Mr. Pascal,” You giggle. 

“Any position is questionable with you, mama.” He laughs in return, kissing your neck. He glances over his shoulder and puts the stove eye on a lower heat before returning to you. 

You’ve got each other by the hand, taking turns around the bar in your kitchen. He’s soon picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

“Pedro!” You squeak as the backs of your thighs meet the cold countertop.

“Mmm?” Pedro purs, finding the softness of your neck with his lips. Still dancing to the beat of the music, he holds your hands in the air while kissing your sweet spot, inflicting the roll of your eyes. You arch your back slightly, feeling him slowly drop your hands. 

Pedro pulls his fingertips down your arms while yours lace over his shoulders, caging him to you. He grins against your throat, slowly finding his way up. With playful pecks leaving a hot trail on your skin, he’s under your jaw.

“You smell so good, baby,” He inhales your perfume. He wants to fall into a pool of it. 

You’re not able to break the smile from your face. You lace your fingers around his cheeks, stroking lightly the stubble on his cheeks. 

“What happened to dinner?” You ask him, cocking an eyebrow.

Pedro being quite the prince of seduction, allows his eyes to sinisterly trail the length of your thighs before promoting the floodgates to open based upon the daring look he gave you.

“Dessert sounds good right about now…” He bites into his lip, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his warm mouth. 

“You’re always so horny!” You giggle.

“Are you complaining? The counter’s a wonderful spot to be. You’re off the ground, you’re essentially on a plate for me… Come on, baby,” He giggles. You roll your eyes at him, but feel as he hops on the vacant side. 

“Pedro!” You yelp, especially when he starts to push your back to the cold surface now, gently holding your head on the way down.

“What can I say, baby?” He sighs. “I can’t resist you. No matter how hard I try.” 

With that, he seals his lips to yours, solidifying the fact that dinner wouldn’t be until much later.

happy 30th birthday lewis james pullman !!

Proofs that Pedro Pascal and Y/n Y/l/n are dating (part 2)

I think I could do this every week, like a series, I like the idea! But actually doing it, is something different, especially because I tend to lose it at some point and forget to publish or I don’t have time 🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if you have any ideas for those, because I am already running out of them but I like doing them.. so, I’m open! And for the last pic, I feel like he would do this face like a shocked face but funny, I don’t really know how to explain it 😂

1) 12.04.2023, 3:57pm

A fan posted a video on Instagram. First we could see a woman, laughing with another person, another woman we assume. They were in a car. We can hear off camera “is that him?”, the other woman says yes, then turns the camera. Next to her car, there he was, Pedro. They were actually at a red light. He was driving. He did not see the women next to him yet. In the video, we could see another person next to him, but we don’t know who (yet). Then this person moves their position, lightly turning to the left, that’s when we see that it is actually Y/n Y/l/n, and that’s when she notices the woman filming them. At that moment, we could see that Pedro leaned a little towards y/n, but she pointed to the ladies before he could go further, which made him turn. He waved at them, but were quickly interrupted by a car honking at them. The light turned green. The video shows the car leaving. One woman said “what was he doing?” The other said “was he about to kiss her?”, then the video ends.

2) 14.04.2023, around 4pm

Pedro and y/n were seen leaving the gym together. Walking next to each other they were laughing a lot. Y/n was wearing a yellow sports bra and a dark grey short, holding a water bottle. Pedro was in shorts too and wearing his famous yellow lakers shirt, his shorts were also grey. They surprisingly had matching outfits.

3) 15.04.2023, 2:36am

Y/n posted a video on her story. She was in a club. The video started with her in a crowd, dancing. Next to her was a friend, coming to kiss her cheek for the video. Right behind y/n, a familiar face, Pedro Pascal. He absolutely did not see that y/n was making a video and was enjoying himself, dancing a little but mostly drinking his cocktail. Then y/n turned towards Pedro and said “say hi!”. As he didn’t hear her, he screamed “what?” Then looked at her phone. She came very close to him, whispering the same sentence to his ear. Then he came closer to the phone, looked straight at the camera, and said hi, and waved. “Who is it for?” He asked her. “I’m posting it on Instagram!” They looked at each other. He was giving her a look that said “that is not a good idea” and she gave him a look that said “I know but I’ll do it anyway”, then the video stopped as they were laughing.

4) 17.04.2023, 10am (ish)

Pedro and y/n were seeing grocery shopping together. Some fans posted pictures during the day, with the two of them together (and the fan of course). One fan stated that they saw Pedro kiss y/n’s forehead but there were no pictures nor videos.

5) 19.04.2023, 6:13pm

Pedro posted a video on his Instagram story. First we could see him, and we could see he was in a car, but not driving. Then, he turned the camera to his legs, and we could see a hand on his thigh. He moved the camera towards the driver, and it was y/n, looking ahead. When she saw that he was filming, she took her hand away, and put it in front of her mouth, pretending to be shocked. Then she smiled, her eyes switching from the road to the phone. Then Pedro turned the camera back to his face, making a weird shocking face before laughing. We could hear y/n laughing too. Then the video ended. Y/n reposted it on her story later too, adding : “got to give attention to my passenger princess”

This is so cute 🫠

in which jake is your roommate and ruins all your dates. accidentally. accidentally, right?🌻 18+ only!

Jake Seresin isn’t an ideal roommate. He sings in the shower at 5 a.m., he can’t load a dishwasher to save his life—seriously, who puts mugs on the bottom—and he has a habit of walking around shirtless that is beginning to interfere with your love life.

Of course, he’s got a lot of good qualities. He’s a surprisingly good cook, with a recipe for chicken and dumplings you’re pretty sure is the best thing you’ve ever eaten. He’s also got that Navy-mandated tidiness, so the apartment you share is always vacuumed and dusted. And he has a habit of walking around shirtless, which, as appealing as it is for your eyes, is…

Yepp. Starting to mess with your love life.

Because guys see Jake making a smoothie in the kitchen or getting back from a run or literally doing anything and decide they have to have some stupid pissing contest with your roommate, who remains, you think, entirely oblivious to how threatened he makes the men you bring home. Because why would he see them as a threat, right? He’s so far out of your league that your dates have nothing to worry about. Jake Seresin could pull any girl he ever wanted so why would he want you?

You’re almost grateful he’s deployed—despite your usual worry for his safety—when you bring a new guy home from the bar. No Jake means no weird energy and maybe a chance to actually let a relationship get off its feet.

Until he comes out of the bathroom and you’re smiling at your phone because Jake sent you a text, a photo of the two of you at the beach from last year. One of those iPhone memories that apparently made him think of you.

This came up on my phone yesterday. Miss you, sweetheart. Don’t burn the place down. Oh and I’m safe in case you couldn’t tell.

Your date isn’t thrilled to see the photo, even though he asks to. Tells you it looks like you’re a couple—as if—and that Jake seems really comfortable touching you—he’s just a touchy person.

The night ends with some mediocre sex and, despite his words to the otherwise, your date never calls you back.

You try not to blame Jake, but it’s hard not to see him as the root of all your woes in love. And if you’re not mad at him, you’ll have to analyze why he’s accidentally ruining every date you’re on and maybe you’ll have to admit that it’s because none of these guys actually measure up to Jake.

You’d have to have the startling realization that you are hopelessly in love with your roommate.

So when Jake comes back a few weeks later maybe you’re cold. Maybe you’re quiet. Maybe you’re keeping to yourself and maybe you tell him to fuck off when he keeps asking what he did wrong.

You move to storm out of the apartment and it’s all very dramatic, but Jake stops you with a hand grasped firmly around your wrist. It’s not rough, but determined, and he pulls you gently closer to him, his green eyes burning with confusion under furrowed brows.

“What was that?” His skin is sun-kissed and he can’t tell you where he was deployed but you know it was somewhere warm from the way the few freckles that dot his nose are more prominent than usual.

“Fuck. Off.”

Jake blinks, undeterred. And then he stares at you, gaze so focused you feel like you’re a target in one of his stupid training exercises. You want to shy away, but when his other hand comes up to wipe away the tears you hadn’t realized we’re gathering in your eyes it all comes out. All your weird and messy feelings that will certainly ruin everything and make it so you need to find another place to live.

But when you’re done talking, Jake just frowns. He pulls you impossibly closer and rests his chin atop your head. “I’m sorry, sweets,” he mutters, “But I’m glad I scared those guys off.” He doesn’t add that he was totally doing it on purpose as often as he could—things are still too fragile for that. One day he’ll tell you. And on that day, he’ll receive a face full of chocolate cake as punishment.

But for today, he just lets you sniffle in his arms, holds you close as you put a wet spot down the front of his t-shirt. “They’re not good enough for you,” he continues, “I just helped them realize that sooner rather than later.”

“Jake,” you complain, “You can’t keep doing that. I need…I want to find someone.”

His frown deepens and he places his hands on your waist, tapping your hips lightly to warn you that he’s going to pick you up. Carrying you into your bedroom, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll stop, if you give this guy I know a shot.”

“I’m listening.”

“He’s Navy,” Jake continues, “And he’s got a killer body.”

“Definitely listening,” you laugh, but try to ignore the pang of hurt that is Jake setting you up with one of his friends.

Jake rolls his eyes and takes a spot beside you on your bed. “He’s a great pilot, some say the best. And he’s a gentleman, Texas-raised so he knows his way around a kitchen.”

Oh. Oh.

“Jake…”

He holds up a hand, not willing to be interrupted. “And he’s shit at loading the dishwasher, sweets, but I know he’d be willing to learn.”

I'M UNWELL AAAAAAA

i need him in a way that creates a new sin in the bible

I love the spectator sport AU and the hurt and comfort! Can you write Joel having a nightmare? Maybe the reader comforts him?

in the dead of night

pairing: joel miller x reader (pairing from the soccer parents AU)

summary: joel has a nightmare, you comfort him.

warnings: nightmare, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff

word count: around 400

author’s note: i wrote this in a few minutes on my phone. i cannot be held liable for any grammatical errors.

i’m also taking more drabble requests!

Being a mother, you’d woken up to all sorts of strange things in the middle of the night. Whether it was Chloe shaking your shoulder because she had a nightmare and didn’t want to be alone, or the absolutely lovely sound of your baby wailing through the night. Despite your extensive knowledge of strange wake-up calls, this one was definitely a first.

Fingernails dug into your skin, causing you to wake up with a yelp. A cold dread washed over you for a second, your sleepy brain thinking that maybe there was a deranged home invader whose preferred method of invasion was scratching their victims awake.

The reality was far less scary—for you, at least. As your eyes adjusted to the dark room, you recognized the fingers gripping you extraordinarily tight as your partner’s. You slowly became a bit more awake, and realized that Joel was shaking just the slightest bit, and that perspiration beaded at his hairline.

“Joel,” you whispered, removing his tight grip from your shoulder. After quietly saying his name, all you got in response was an unintelligible murmur.

“Joel,” you repeated, this time slightly louder, but still aware of the fact that your children were sleeping in the next rooms over.

At this utterance of his name, he stirred slightly more, but was very clearly still asleep, and still grappling with whatever strange thing was happening in his dream that had him sweating and gripping onto you like you were going to slip from his fingers.

You set your hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him while saying his name one more time, this time with a sense of urgency and concern. That somehow managed to be enough to finally wake the man in bed with you up, and Joel gasped as he awoke.

“Joel,” you said softly, hovering over the man. “Are you alright?”

He looked up at you wordlessly, blinking a few times before pulling you into a rib-crushing hug.

“I thought I lost you,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“Oh baby,” you cooed, playing with the hairs at the back of his head as he tightly embraced you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

conor_o_donohoe ig story 19.7.2023