#and i mean YEARS into the relationship as well

[dilf-docs]

My Baby's Fit Like A Daydream

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your relationship is finally out to the world. now, pedro and you will explore what it feels like to have your love out in the open.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, FLUFF, the empire of bad humor strikes again, hurt/comfort bc all roads lead back to angst, a brief mention of bodyshaming, this is lowkey pwp my bad, dirty talk, fingering, p. in v., bathroom sex ijbol, exhibition kink (they be fucking everywhere but in a bed), degradation kink (he calls her a slut twice), the one and only creampie (twice), so naturally: breeding kink, ALSO pls stop the husband!pedro reqs, i beg. a delulu girl can only take so much 💔

word count: 10,991 words

side note: not one but two requests to be fullfilled! this is as a sequel to call it what you want. also, spam time: i happen to write in wattpad as well, and i have a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) but it's on spanish tho. if u speak the language and would like to tune in, read it here AND spam again but speaking of the ptwt dynamic, why don't we become moots? check my (new) stan twitter account here (i had one in 2022 that i had since 2016 but entered a crisis and deleted it lol)

part: I/II

The news had spread like wildfire.

As soon as you hit the red carpet, hand on hand, rings finally on display―shining under the spotlight, your phone had been blowing up nonstop: every show, podcast, tabloid, news outlet and social media had been talking about it. California had turn into an easter egg playground; everyone was eager to know it all.

(They had found the church where you married, the dress boutique, jewelry shop where Pedro bought the rings―the employees ratted him out, even sharing pictures of the moment, your husband posing with them without knowing of the future treason. They too had found the place where the reception took place, and even the name of the priest who had married you, but he refused to give the hungry press any details. God Bless)

In short, it had been a hell of a week. You figured dissapearing for a while was for the best, but with some interviews still left, that option had been discarded. Still, doesn't mean you couldn't retreat for a couple of days to the tranquility of your home while it was time to show up again. Well, as peaceful as it could get, since reporters were camping near your house and roaming around Hollywood Hills like vultures; the neighbour's nagging was just another layer of problems in your shit cake.

"I'm sorry, Louis. Walks will be postponed for a while" you talk to your cat, but the lazy bastard just stretches and lays down again. "Yeah, I can see you're affected. Don't cry"

"It's not the cat's fault" Pedro emerges from behind, "don't take it out on him"

He takes a sit next to you, two mugs in hand. He gives you the one with a chocolate steam, a souvenir he bought when you visited your home country last summer. You wonder if that's a trip you'll ever be able to make again.

"I'm not. Just- It's horrible that I can't even go outside my own house and walk the same roads I've walked in four years because the press is hidden with cameras in, I don't know, bushes!" you exclaim, quiet rage carried within your words. "It's unfair, really. All I want is to walk my damn cat without a flash up my ass"

Pedro nestles his face in your neck, nose carressing the skin. Giggles leave your lips, the sensation ticklish.

"It'll pass. It always does" he says, voice assuring, probably because he's used to the violation of privacy, but you're not. Getting bigger, is this the price to pay for making a name for yourself and claiming out loud who you love?

"I hope so" you murmur above the quietness of your home, a sound as eerie as fake, devoid of it's tranquil nature as a world of invasion awaits outside.

"Do you trust me?" Pedro speaks, voice unwavering. He holds your gaze, steady brown challening your shaky orbs.

"I do" you speak up, yet you wish you could believe it. You believe in him, there's no question to that, but do you believe in yourself? That the love you'd put out to the world would be treated with the same care and respect you have treated it in secret? For a fleating moment, you miss the secrecy.

"Then trust me this will be over sooner than expected" he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, feeling remanents of chocolate he licks away, as you mockingly yell ¡Qué sucio! but it's devoid of malice. "In time, this will become another anecdote we'll share with our kids, and laugh with our grandkids when we get older"

You smile, feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. Oh, doesn't he turn you into a pathetic sappy wife?

"Well" you sniffle, giggling to push back the tears away. "About the old part..."

He playfully kicks your side. "Uno ya no puede ser romántico, que le salen con estas cosas. Your generation could use some respect, you know?" (one can't simply be romantic anymore)

Pedro gets up, picking the mug from your hands as both rings brush together, the gold shinning under the morning Californian sun.

"And your generation could take a joke" you quip, lips curled up like you hadn't in weeks.

"Very funny, y/n. Thought you loved me" but then he's pressing a kiss to your temple like kissing you once isn't enough, promising to return after washing down the mugs.

"I do!" you shout to his dissapearing broad frame as he enters the kitchen, and he playfully makes a dissmissing move with his palm.

The laughing dies when your phone chimes next to you.

You shouldn't really, but the curiosity that draws you in is as intense as a magnet. The phone burns on its position, screaming for you to open it, despite being told by your husband that the best was choice was to ignore it until the buzz had died down, but you're afraid the turmoil isn't nowhere to be finished. Comments can be mean, he'd said, they can hurt you. Pedro said he'd learn with time to ignore it, but he was experienced. You weren't, so naturally, as your husband and protector, he wanted to shield you from the pain.

Although, both of your fandoms had been pretty supportive of your relationship, some user even claiming to suspect it, making threads full of easter eggs and connections that validated the theory which was now a reality. I've connected the dots, followed by pictures of you sharing wardrobe, slips on interviews, similar backgrounds in your posts across social media, and of course, the two Gladiator Ii interviews. Many resorted to making edits or screaming over your pictures in the premiere, demanding for more content you had yet caved in to share (there was a gigantic carpet of evidence sitting heavy in your cloud).

So, in a way, this support made it hard for you to truly dimension the hate Pedro warned you about: all you saw was fans being happy and showering you with love, making paparazzi to be the only problem as for now.

That's it.

You cave in, turning the phone on as you bite your lip, searching first your Instagram: a bunch of new followers, many with variations of ispunk on their usernames, as well as a swarm of comments on your recent posts. There's a small voice in your head telling you to turn away, but your thumb moves without thinking, clicking on pictures of the red carpet―a carrousel of you and then a picture of you both at the end, one fans had been gushing about the last couple of days, rings on display, practically up their noses. You were smiling, and Pedro was looking at you fondly, his other hand holding Lux but his gaze never leaving yours; he was too perfect to be real―yours.

You unconsciously smile at the captured moment, love obvious on your faces, so you open the comments, thinking it would be the same support or love radiating of the comment.

But boy, weren't you wrong?

It was all the same, support lost between waves of hate. Variations of bodyshaming, age shaming and even gold digger claims were on full display across the comment section. "She's ugly" "In it for the money, am I right?" "I thought Pedro had better taste, lol" "She got the role in Gladiator II because of nepotism. Or cocksucking" and then a cruel answer that read "Right, threesome with Ridley. Ew, what a whore!"

Worst of it all, some even had Pedro profile pictures, or usernames and accounts dedicated to him.

Your heart was beating like crazy, chest heavy and hollow, face red with emotions you couldn't quite place (embarrasment? fear? rage? sadness?) as you kept searching across Twitter*, doing a quick skim of the trendings that included you. The same hate speech pattern was all over the timeline, some betting for divorce in a couple of years (even months!), while others took their time dissecting your looks and relationship. As if they knew. Long gone were the edits and harmless threads: the hate wave was here to stay. Some where even being a bit racist, the irony of it all, being Pedro himself was latino and didn't shy away from it, rather proud as he didn't miss an opportunity to shot out his dear Chile. Or any social issue, as a matter of fact, very vocal on his political beliefs.

This was fucking ridiculous, and if the cameras were an issue, this swarm of negativity is what really took a toll on you, the flashes as you went grocery shopping now barely a scratch. No, this was worst. All you wanted to do was cuddle in a blanket while wearing one of Pedro's shirts and dissappear. Too much noise. Too much hate. You can feel it creeping up your body, tainting your soft curves, wrinkles, acne scars and face. It's like rough hands, tugging harsh, ripping your vocals because you can't scream; no words to express this pain.

You knew one day it would come, but never imagined the hurt and to what extent people were capable of. Cruelty. Dissecting your life and body like it was a show for them to be entertained: your marriage was a circus and your body a joke.

It hurt their condescending dismiss of your love, questioning as if the gap were only numbers and not a pillar of your relationship that made you and Pedro closer, despite the bridge in age. You were reduced to a middle-age crisis, and he to a filthy man pinning for a younger girl. Your body was turn apart, despite no real flaws existing. Humans are meant to be so, not perfect, but real, and that was the problem: you had turn into an object―a target for their dards to pierce through.

Your body shakes violently with cries, deafening your ears that you don't hear when Pedro walks in.

"Why are you crying?" he rushes to your side, panic on his voice. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You barely manage to shake your head, and then his eyes scan all over your features, until they land on the phone on your hands. The worry turns to anger as he asks:

"You looked at them, didn't you?"

He isn't yelling, but it would be better if he did. This contained fury, fading into dissapointment, as if you were a naive child scolded by their parents makes you feels small and stupid, as if you knew no better.

"I'm sorry-" you manage to choke out among tears, "I know you told me-"

"I told you" he interrupts, words laced with wrath, "so this wouldn't happen. See what happens?"

"Why are you talking to me like it's my fault?" you yell, and Pedro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I didn't ask to receive all this! Do I deserve the death threats, shame and hate?"

He walks past you, and it's like a slap to your face. Was he going to behave like this? Didn't it matter how you felt, or was it something childish that could be brush to the side like nothing? Insecurities you hadn't even think of come crashing down on you, doubts creeping up and attacking you from all sides. It's horrible. You try to hold onto the good memories, praying you don't loose him. You can't. You just can't.

"Answer!" you demand, tears spilling like a broke dam.

"I was just closing the windows. Or do you want to fuel the talk, huh? Give the hungry hoard more to bite?" Pedro then stands to hold your gaze, and you hate that you can't place his emotions. Anxiety corrodes your brain: was this really the beginning of the end?

"Do I?" you dare to speak up, and even if its loud, it comes out drowned, the exhaustion from the emotional turmoil taking its toll on you. "Do I deserve it?"

"No, you don't, carajo!" Pedro bursts. "You don't deserve any of that, which is why I didn't want you looking at those things!"

He sighs, realizing the anger is misdirected.

"I'm sorry"

Your broken wails are the only thing to be heard. He hates himself for being a part of it, even if not the biggest.

"No, I'm sorry for being so stupid" you sob. "I-I just wanted for people to be as happy for us as I am with you"

"Come here" but he's the one cutting the space to embrace you.

His scent calms a part of you, body still rocking with violent shakes.

"You're not stupid. Nor ugly, or any of those things people are calling you. No, mi amor. You're beautiful, smart and talent. They fail to realize I'm the lucky one. So please, don't be hard on yourself, yeah? I can't bear to see it. Less if I know it's not true. You didn't ask for it; you don't deserve all that bullshit"

He presses a kiss to your temple, arms that hug you tighter holding you close close up to the point his heartbeat melts within your own.

I won't let you go. You won't fall as long as I got you.

"We'll get through this, yeah? Think of the future, and what's to come. It's hard, that I know, but let us enjoy the moment. Life is too precious to waste it away" he brushes stray tears with his thumb, softly and full of love that words aren't enough to express. "I'm here" the out loud, "and I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise"

Later that day, Pedro posts a carrousel of unseens, even one of your wedding (a video of your first dance), telling people to leave you alone. That he loves you, and that no malicious news, fans or comments will ever change that―suck it energy laced within his rageful statement.

Safe to say, in the next weeks, hate is barely a small voice whispering in the back of your neck, one that hushes down with each kiss and/or words uttered by your one and only devoted husband.

mandoshoney: y/n protection squad pull up, we ride at dawn starlightt180: unhing3dprincess WHERE ARE U??? PTWT IS IN SHAMBLES AND NEEDS U MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAAA elysyannemimi: i feel like a kid scolded by their dad. pedro has achieved the ultimate daddy status bobgirlll: is no one going to talk about how rageful/protective pedro sounded in that story????? NEED MORE FERAL PEDRO RN GRRrrrr ps. photos so cute, wish that was me lol pyramiidsf: i hope y/n is okay, ppl can be so cruel sometimes but at least she's got pedro on her side <3 he's such a perfect man :,)

It had been days since your fight.

In an sweet attempt to cheer you up, Pedro had taken you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant you can't remember the name of. If they'll snap pictures of my wife without my permission, I might as well show you off. So, per his petition, you had wore a little black dress that hugged every curve of your body perfectly and pushed your tits to the top. Stunning, he had growled, and it had been hard to push him off as he devoured your mouth in your house's doorstep.

"Let's give them talk" you had agreed.

So now you sat at the restaurant, Pedro filling your cup of wine for the third time in a row, talking about all and nothing: about politics, the weather, your siblings, Louis the cat, upcoming gigs around your home you wanted to go to, how support had risen and the hate had dwindled, the numerous calls of job offers and interviews to keep on milking your relationship... life had never been more hectic.

"You know, maybe the dress was a bad idea" he takes a bite of his meat, tone nonchalant.

"Yeah?" you challenge, cheeks flushed with alcohol, "why's that? I thought I had to look good. What changed your mind?"

"Turns out" he looks at you, gaze piercing through your body, brown warm eyes darkening, "I figured something"

You know your husband. It's still fresh in your mind the first day you took a notice of it: jaw clenching, gaze fixated at nothing and white fists balled up on to the sides, arms swinging while fingers itched. A vein on his forehead would pop, and brows would melt together in a furrow. It happened when you got recognized by a fan, on your early days, and he had taken a picture of you, uploading it to social media. Dating Pedro had been going on for little to five months, and the way this guy hugged you from behind, hand resting above your ass, had made your then-boyfriend see red. His posture stiffened, demeanor changed and face adquired all the characteristics above. There was only one correct answer: Pedro was jealous, so fucking jealous.

So here he is now, jealous to the bone, alcohol increasing the rage.

"And that is?" you push his buttons, something you normally wouldn't do, but you're drunk and God, so sex-starved. His possesive side was always hot, yet now? It had a layer of allure it didn't have before, the idea of calming him down long lost.

"You know what it is" he answers, but you tilt your head to the side, acting confused. Pedro growls, clenching the glass a bit too tight; you fear it'll break.

"No, I don't" you serve more wine in your glass, savouring the liquid. Some spills into your mouth, and you lick it while not breaking eye contact. "Enlighten me"

"Turns out" the words come out strained, a whirlwind of emotions burning in the tip of his tongue, "that I wanted people to look at my wife, but I looked their looks and realized I don't like how they look at her"

He rambles the words out, speech pattern slurred and ideas clashing into one another, clearly drunk.

"I see" you draw out, demeanor calm, but your panties have started to get wet.

"No" he hits the table, making your eyes go wide and people turn to your table. You should be embarrased, but you're only aroused. "You don't see what I see. And I hate it, I fucking hate it" he seethes, words spit out over your unfinished meal.

"Dessert?" the waiter appears from seemingly nowhere, menu on hand.

Pedro doesn't even look when he answers, "Sure. Bring your best"

"The chef's suggestion is Soufflé, a classic dessert from his country"

"That'll do" Pedro looks at you, but his brain seems to be somewhere else. Like he's thinking. "How long will it take?"

The waiter ponders the answer, yet doesn't think any weird of it.

"About twenty to thirty minutes. Would that be alright? Or would you prefer to switch to one of our quick-fixes? They're as delicious as our fresh and-"

"No" your husband interrupts, eyes shinning with something akin to dangerous. "We'll take the soufflé. Just want my wife to eat the very best"

The waiter smiles. "Sure, will be back in a few. More wine?"

Pedro stops the action, removing the bottle's neck from pouring more red liquid in your glass.

"Won't be needed"

They excuse themselves, leaving both of you alone. The restaurant bubbles with chat and instrumental music from a band playing on a corner, but all you hear is his heavy breathing and your heart.

"I wanted more wine" you pout, not even knowing why you said it.

He smiles devilishly. "I'll give you something better than that"

How does it happen, you have no idea, but then Pedro gets up with a brash move, chair making a sound that draws attention. He smirks, his auburn reflecting on the candle glowing in the center with a light that's menacing.

"I'm going to the bathroom" an announcement that feels like a threat that runs through the newfound tension; it could be cut with even a butterknife.

You sit there in silence, too stunned to speak. Your phone chimes in what feels like an hour (it's been a few minutes, probably three). You open the notification, a single text from Pedro.

I'm waiting.

So this was his plan all along, huh? Maybe he's gotten bored of sex on a bed and room like normal couples, because ever since that time you sucked his dick in his trailer, Pedro has shown an appetite for public sex. Well, more like just shown but never done. Guess that changes as of tonight.

I'm coming.

Truth is, after the reveal and fight, you hadn't had sex since that time before the London premiere. Press tour hadn't finished, and the movie was still playing in theathers, but it feels much longer the time you had gone without having his dick rearranging your insides. That changes as of tonight.

You practically leap out of your sit, rushing to the restroom, which is too fancy for your liking. You're unsure how to proceed, and it should be because you realized how stupid and reckless this is, but it's more because you don't know which door Pedro is behind: men or women.

You knock softly on the ladies room first. "I'm here" you speak, voice small.

After a few seconds, a muffled voice from behind replies: "Me too"

You giggle as he pulls you inside, mouth devouring yours in a hot kiss.

"The lock!" you squeal, yet Pedro is busy buring his face between your breasts, pulling the dress down until he's nipping at the skin before licking the spot with his tongue. Your back is pressed against the tiled white wall, cold meeting your now heating skin.

"Mmm, missed this" he mumbles in a drunken state. "Needed my girls so bad"

His words elicit a moan out of you, a way to comunicate that your body too had been aching for this.

"Please, Pedro-" you whimper, trying to get rid of the pretty dress. He doesn't say it, but his movements command for power, big hands dragging your dress down until the black cloth falls to the floor in a sound filled with grace, it feels merciful.

"Black panties? But I thought I was a man with a plan" he groans, calloused digits ghosting over the wet patch in the middle. He smells your arousal off his fingers, and this is so nasty but you're so into it.

"Two can play" is all you answer, eager fingers unbuckling his belt as you unbutton the formal pants and pull them down to his knees, so with his underwear.

"Sure thing" he chuckles darkly. "Just look at you, baby. So loud, but you gotta be quiet. ¿Quieres que alguien entre y te vea así? Fucking slut, begging for my cock" (do you want someone to come in and see you like this?)

He's always been sweet-talking you through sex, and you know he doesn't mean it aside from being lewd words, but you also didn't know you could be aroused by it. Change is welcome, to say the least.

His hard dick is immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs, like he's got no time to loose, kissing you roughly like he hasn't eat and your mouth is his meal.

"Twenty minutes" he grumbles, groaning.

"Or thirty" you add, whining when his cock brushes dangerously close to your dripping folds.

"Can't believe you're this wet already" he chuckles, but it sounds more like a breathy sigh, lost in the inside of your mouth.

"I've been wet since before we left the house and you kissed me"

"And I kissed you" he adds. "No sé ni por qué putas te traje si sólo quer��a quedarme en casa y comerte" (i don't know why the fuck i took you out if all i wanted was to stay at home and eat you out)

You moan at his dirty mouth, clicking your tongue as a way to say so.

"You dirty old man-" it dies in your throat when he glides inside your folds with ease, a finger slipping in, then two, as he curls them. Your head rolls back, landing against the door with a hollow thud.

"Dirty? But you enjoy this, don't you?" his fingers buried up your hilt. Your eyelids flutter, whimpering drowned by your lips, bitten so deep you think you start to taste blood. "Bad news, mami. You're as dirty as me"

You choke in your words. "No-"

"No what?" Pedro mocks, sliding his digits out of you and shoving them inside his mouth, sucking on them while looking at you. You whine at the display and loss of them, knowing he's tauting you for fun. "Don't tell me you don't want someone to come in here and see you acting like a dirty slut? To see you almost coming here and now with just two of my fingers"

"Fine. What if I want to, huh? Just give me your damn cock already and quit teasing"

Words were lewd, but Pedro smiles with adoration.

"That's my girl"

His length springing free to slap against his now smooth stomach, your mouth drooling.

"Sit"

He glares back, "in the toilet?"

"Well, do you happen to see a couch or bed?" you quip. "That's right: you were the one who chose the bathroom, desperate old man. So needy, aren't you?"

You see your husband turning around, ashamed, and you laugh. "I didn't think it through" and you avoid to add a that's quite obvious snarky type of reply.

"Want me as much as I do?" Pedro doesn't protest anymore, grunting some spanish curses before sitting on the cold surface. "Good. Then comply"

You swing a leg over his lap, not afraid if the thing breaks, dragging your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, biting at your lower lip to hide a growl that seems to erupt from deep within his chest.

"Gonna ride you, baby. Is that okay?" you take the lead, and Pedro gets frustrated that you're taking up a plan that was originally his. Despite such, he just finds himself nodding wordlessly like a fool.

You line up, desperate to have him inside of you. But you go slowly down, taking his size, maybe because you're drunk or because you'd never fucked in a bathroom before. Because, really, how will you even try to explain your PR team a broken bathroom?

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push. His strong arm cages your waist, as he moans in your ear, bodies going up and down in sync. His slides are smooth across his length, helping you find your pace.

"Fuck" you whimper, legs starting to shake. "I think I-"

"I know" he interrupts you, a quick kiss to your earlobe. "It's okay; I've got you, linda"

He thrusts upwards, toilet creaking as Pedro keeps you in place.

You bury your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans, skin slapping against skin loudly, his movements becoming faster. The pressure keeps on adding, until the tightness on your walls is too much, and you're collapsing over his chest, folds spasming as he empties his load inside of you, seed deep in your walls, dripping down your legs.

"Oh, shit" you gasp, "Pedro!"

"Perdón!" he shouts, then covers his mouth. "Mierda, no quise ser tan ruidoso. Ay, carajo. Didn't want to spill all over you-" (sorry! didn't mean to be so loud. oh, fuck)

"There's a sink" you start, "and toilet paper. We'll manage"

"Right" he looks at his watch, "we got about ten minutes"

You smile, cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck. "If the chef took the whole thirty"

"There's only one way to find out" he gasps for air. "Pero, ¿no estás llena? Still up for dessert?" his big hand finds it's way to your tummy, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. It lingers, and when you look into his eyes, he averts his gaze, ashamed of whatever he thought. (but, aren't you full?)

"After this, I need some sugar to make it home" your eyelids drop. "I'm starving"

He presses a loud kiss to your head, "that's my girl"

"Yours" you pull back to rest your forehead against his. "Just yours"

He jolts forward, capturing your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it.

"Good. Now, I'll give my good girl what she deserves" he takes some toilet paper to clean his spilling load out of you, kisses running from your face to neck. Then, gently so, lets you dress in again, exiting the bathroom first to give you some cleaning up space. When you come back to your table, the Soufflé is there.

"Eat" he commands, voice thick and rough. You smirk, giving it a bite as you look into his eyes: hair disheveled, puffy lips and droopy eyes. The bite mark seems to shine, or maybe you need to lay down for a while. "Y no mires atrás, ¿sí? We got ourselves a crowd" (don't look back, yeah?)

That night, you upload a story with a picture of the dessert with a caption that reads: best meal I've ever had. The context is lost until news of your bathroom affairs hit headlines next morning, but you don't notice: your phone happens to be dead, and you're too busy getting railed in what could count as round two to charge it.

pompeiianbollockr: hello just woke up and saw the pictures WTF TMZ??? did they really do #that 😭 bring back public shaming unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they fucked in that fancy ass restroom ㅤㅤmostannoyingbillioner: unhing3dprincess QUEEN U ARE BACK 😭 BETTING UR GRANDMA AGAIN? OH IKTR WE WERE LOOSING THE ANCIENT TEXTS poppysplayground: ohhhhh they're so nasty (do u want a third) ㅤㅤann-gell: poppysplayground fr like INVITEN

The interview for Entertainment Weekly's behind the cover for Gladiator II was supposed to just include Paul and Pedro, but taking advantage of the free publicity and buzz your announcement made, they added you. Especially after the news about your restroom affair had hit, courtesy of TMZ; the rumor wasn't taken into account in the beginning, but now added gasoline to the gossip fire. Just what the movie needed: free promo.

You're sat in the middle of the two men, dressed in white as well, to match their attires with a flowy dress that loosely resembles that of Rome's. Then, Paul begins to speak.

"I saw the film for the first time when I was about 13 with my dad" he talks about the original movie.

"I saw it in the movie theater when it came out" you imagine a young Pedro lined up to see Russell Crowe's magnetic performance and let out a small smile. "I saw it twice, because of how emotional the movie was. Obviously it's incredibly visceral, and epic and the kind of movie you rarely get to see made, uh, these days"

You look at him, elbow resting on the arm chair as your body is all turned to his side. Truth is, you love listening to him, especially when he seems so invested, love for the subject rooted in each word.

Pedrito, you'd affectionally call. Ésto es una conversación, no un monólogo. And he'd blush embarrased, only for you to laugh it off, saying you would turn mute if that meant for him to continue speaking. (this is a conversation, not a monologue)

"It had an impact emotionally. I remember that, I guess, sadistically I was drawn to a second time go back again because, weirdly, it was very comforting. I remember it perfectly came out in year 2000. Right?" he asks, and Paul and you agree with a yeah. "I can remember what theater I was in and everything-"

"What theater was it?" Paul interrupts his passionate talking.

Pedro stops, "It, uh-" he rambles, before you all laugh.

"What about you, y/n? Were you even born?" Paul jokes, making you roll your eyes at his antics and deliberate desire to keep nagging you like some older annoying brother.

"I was like, born a year after you, Paul. But I didn't watch the movie until I was fifteen" you feel the gaze of both men fall upon you. "The first Ridley Scott movie I watched was Thelma and Louise, as you all know. Then my dad insisted I should watch it, and finally, at fifteen, when I had given up on my dreams to go on one last epic trip to the Grand Canyon, he played it. My eyes, they were, like, glued to the screen. I couldn't stop thinking about it for a while" you leave a small lingering touch on Pedro's arm, "just like he said: epic and emotional. Also, I had a huge fat crush in Joaquin Phoenix that lasted until I was twenty"

"That was like, seven years ago!" Pedro yells, making Paul snorts. "I feel deceived"

"Qué dramático. We're both married, you big baby!" you laugh, then make a joke before the next conversation starts: "You wouldn't think he plays an epic Roman General, would you?" (how dramatic)

They film some shots of you and the boys before moving to the next talk.

"I was doing a play in London at the time. I'd met with Doug and Lucy who are the producers of the film in LA, and then a zoom was set up and I spoke to Ridley for about 5 minutes about what Gladiator was going to be about. And then we spoke for the next 25 minutes about like, gaic football and dogs, and then I thought we'd do like camera tests and- but no, he just-" he shrugs. "I found out about two weeks later"

Now it's Pedro's turn.

"I knew that the project existed. I knew that Paul was doing it. I think it started with an actual like meeting with Ridley to go and sit down with him and I, whether or not the movie was going to happen for me or not, I was like I'm going to go meet Ridley Scott" he jokes, making you both chuckle. "It wasn't even about getting the job, it was like I'm going to go and sit down maybe five minutes, ten, twenty, as many minutes as I can"

"It was in LA" you speak up, "in his offices"

"Yeah, and thankfully he was willing to talk about all the things I wanted to know about, in terms of other movies, and that's what it really turned into"

"He's a wonderful Storyteller" Mescal compliments. "You could sit down with Ridley for-"

Pedro makes a joke, speaking over him. "Give me another one, give me another one-"

You still kind of hate the guy after his supposed comments on your husband's weight, but won't talk bad about a man who gave you work and your biggest role to the date yet, so you explain how it happened to you.

"I wasn't even planned to appear on the movie. As a matter of fact, my character was squeezed in last minute. Ridley is, just as they said, indeed, a storyteller" you smile. "The truth is, I worked with Cuba, his granddaughter, on a proyect together, a photography one. I was in London at the time, auditioning for a movie, when we met"

"London?" Paul asks.

"Yes" you laugh, ashamed. "I traveled to London with some of my savings, because you know what they say about not doing and then regretting. But I do regret it; I cried for my money to be back!"

"You didn't get the part" Pedro adds, barely containing a snicker.

"I didn't" you sigh, "Cuba saw me sitting alone on a café, eyes red with tears of failure and talked me into capturing such vulnerable moment. She didn't know me but made my day better, and she took some of the most beautiful pictures I've seen of myself. So, in a way, I won. I mean, she's the reason I got the role: my name came up on a phone call with Scott, as I had already made a name for myself, and showed him the pictures. He got in contact with my agent and I got the role after auditioning. Call that friendship nepotism"

"Didn't Pedro tell you about it? I find it funny that he was in the movie and didn't get you in" Paul comments, curiously.

"We were supposed to remain a secret, and the sudden connection when we had barely interacted according to the public, would've been weird. So no, Pedro rubbed his role on my face and then I came home with the new script as he received his. We both won our roles separately, and until we got it both, we realized just what it would mean"

"But now we're here" Pedro speaks fondly, taking your hand. "Rome conquers it all"

You can only hold his and stare back lovingly.

"Oh" the Irish man feigns disgust, "don't get all lovey dovey on me!"

The topic changes again, as Paul speaks.

"We meet early in the film, and this is again kind of Ridley's genius. He shoots it in a way that it feels plausible, but in like- the real action of that there's no way-"

They start talking ovwe each other excitedly about the process of filmaking, Pedro listing all the settings were the epic action takes place.

"We lock eyes" Pedro jests, "we lock eyes"

"All right" Paul plays along. "Three, two, one"

"i'm right here" you say, pushing your body to the front. "You got me third wheeling in my own marriage"

Paul laughs, breaking contact.

"Time for you to get a taste of your own medicine. You've made the rest of this press tour unbearable!" he protests, but his tone is devoid of complain.

"Marcus Acacius represents like-" Mescal then speaks about your husband's character, "he's a Roman general"

"No, he is the general of Rome" you correct, smirking.

"Be careful, princess. Don't let the emperor see you all over his General" the blue-eyed man next to you mocks, and you roll your eyes again.

"Will you ever let me live?"

Paul then talks about his character. "I'm like a lieutenant in the numidian Army. I kind of see Acacius as this, he- he represents everything that I hate about, uh, the Roman Empire"

"Well, the Roman Empire is expanding and expanding" Pedro takes the word, "and invading Numidia just to gain more and more power, and we realize that there really is kind of no ceiling to the lust of that power"

"And that's to do with the Emperors, right? Like, played by Joe and Fred who are wonderful" Paul adds, complimenting both actors in the process. "And let's not forget our Empress too"

You make a face at that, feeling in the need to defend your character.

"Empress Alba is tragedy. I think she embodies well the feelings of helpnessless all women felt during that time. She's an object, another shiny possesion subjected to her husband's amusement, so she drowns in all pleasure available to forget her existence. Lucius hates her because he sees all the filth of Rome in her, like, this whole debauchery and squandering while the people beg for scraps. But it's a pattern seen across history, isn't it?" you pause. "I think it's interesting to compare her to Lucilla, because she's loved by the people, seen as human- despite being noble. It's sad because it's until too late that Lucius realizes she's a victim of the system he hates"

Pedro smiles at your little intervention, loving the way you explain a character you'd play so graciously. One of your favorite movies is Marie Antoinette, by Sofia Coppola, so probably it felt personal to you in some level. God, hadn't you made him watch it at least ten times?

"It unravels through the film that I've kind of miscalculated who I think Acacius is, just as with Alba" Paul comments.

"His character misunderstands my character just like Paul misunderstands us" Pedro quips, making both of you laugh.

"Then it kind of culminates in a big fight that we have in the-"

"Doesn't it always?" you add. "Wouldn't be an epic without it"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Paul dares, jokingly.

"No we're not talking about it" he cuts him off.

"Who's the better fighter'" Paul asks after some silence. Pedro dares him with a go on.

"I would say I'm better the better share. What you think?"

"I would say Lucius is the better fighter"

"Lucius is the better fighter" Pedro repeats slowly, incredulous. "Do you want us to fight? Lucius is a better fighter than the general of Rome, who survived decades and conquered" Paul tries to defend himself but Pedro doesn't let him. "I fight four men before I get you, and I call it off!"

"Yeah, but I think if you hadn't called it off -"

"You don't think I would have do some sort of mature aged learning-"

They end up discussing a bit more until you clear your throat.

"Why don't you ask for a third party to break your tie?" and you point towards yourself, mouthing a cute me with your painted pink lips.

"No!" Paul immediatly opposes, "It would be biased, silence her!"

"Have you seen Acacius' arms?" you gauge Pedro's arms, biceps flexing under the white attire. "It definitely isn't biased, at all"

The conversation carries on after some more shots. In some, you pose seriously, but in between such, you laugh along with them, Pedro even hugging you and Paul from behind in one of both. No kisses yet, but you know fans will be rabid just with the lingering touches and flirty undertones in your interactions.

"We began together in Morocco, and I think seeing that set and the scale of the production so quickly, desensitized me to the scale of the of what- Malta was in the Coliseum, and Ridley moves at such a pace, which I actually think really helped me because you don't have time to kind of sit there and and kind of bask in the wonder of it" Paul talks. "Because you're shooting three or four scenes, build your expectations of how to meet the size of, it or anything 'cuz 'cause it's impossible" Paul looks at Pedro and asks: "and I think Ridley; did I tell you what Ridley said first day of shooting to me? He came out to the tent while they were dressing the set, thousands of extras, everything fire, camels and he comes in, and he's- he's smoking a cigar, and we're all stood around and he's like Are you nervous? and we're all like No and he slaps me on the back and goes Your nerves are no good to me, before we filmed anything. But I think it was like- it's funny, but it's this idea that this is your playground, and you have to kind of step into it and own it. So, I-I don't actually really remember my first walking into the Coliseum, 'cause I feel like I lived in the Coliseum for about three or four weeks"

"You lived in the Coliseum of your mind" Pedro quips, making Paul laugh.

"I do remember, you know, when I first walked into the Coliseum, you know. It- it gave me chills. Like, literally chills. Look! I still get the goosebumps" you point your arm. "Honestly, all of it felt just too real, and I couldn't help but for a moment, think I actually was in Rome- that I belonged to nobility"

Pedro takes your hand and kisses it gently. "That's because you do, princesa"

"One of the things that I have never experienced on a movie before, is that there was so little left to the imagination" Pedro expresses. "Me and the rest of the ensemble are together in the emperor's box, and there's this enormous battle that's taking place, and Ridley composed all of the off camera for us in the emperor's box, with Paul leaping from one ship to another taking two men down what would you call that?"

"A cloth line flying" Paul answers.

"Clothes line?" you try.

"A flying- a flying clothes line" Pedro decides, carrying on "just so that we could know what we were looking at. I couldn't f*****g believe it"

"That's true" you remark. "The result goes so hard- I mean, it looks amazing" you sheepily laugh. "The action, the violence, the epic... it all shines through. It just- it makes sense"

The conversation shifts again.

"The legacy of the first film is so profound, and has such a strong place in so many people's, like, hearts and minds, it's inescapable, but I was looking at it- and I was like" Paul shares. "The screenplay does a lot of that work for you in terms of like, the rubbing the dirt between the hands. the kind of DNA and the genetics that Lucius inherits. I remember reading the script and there's like, a moment in the script where it's Lucius puts on the breastplate and it's written like Lucius now becomes Maximus"

"But Lucius, despite being a son, is also a man" you counter. "He isn't Maximus"

Paul agrees.

"I kind of tried to park that to one side, because ultimately, where Lucius is coming from at the start of the film, he has a very different journey than Maximus does, and I was hoping that whatever DNA- and even just the physical gestures, was going to be one part of- a kind of small part of the performance" he explains. "What I tried to do is figure out exactly who Lucius was and where those differences lay between Lucius and Maximus"

"One of the things that I loved most about my character is that he's introduced in the beginning of the movie, in this very epic battle sequence, that I think in its own way homages the first film" Pedro shares. "But even better, because we follow him back to Rome and discover his direct connection to one of the only characters that is living and with us from the first movie, and I loved being a a kind of thread, an invitation, into what we know from the first movie by being Connie Nielsen's man"

Paul looks at you silently, before poking your side: "Someone is real quiet with that comment"

You narrow your eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about"

"I am Connie Nielsen's man as Marcus Acacius, but as Pedro Pascal, I'm all y/n's"

Your face goes red at how easily you are to be understood, your husband answering just what you wanted to listen.

"Ha! Look at your face, I was right!" Paul ridiculises you.

But after such an embarrasing moment, he shifts the conversation again.

"There's a moment where Pedro has this, uh- it's so clever from a- from an acting standpoint, but also in the in the script like, you see this brutalizing Force come into Numidia, and there's this section where there's the burning of the bodies, and that it's one of my favorite shots in the film" Paul muses. "It's this closeup on Pedro, when he says Vae Victis to the conquered, and you feel like it's a really difficult thing to communicate in one line, that you see: Oh, this General is, kind of wearing this responsibility with great difficulty and shame"

"I wasn't doing that at all" your husband deadpans. You stiffle a giggle.

"You were very good in it" Paul argues back with a smile.

"That wasn't what I was playing" he insists, serious but Paul asks What were you playing? and you all laugh.

"If I had a favorite scene, I'd say it'd be naval fight" you mention. "The colliseum is filled with water, and it's this- it feels like a thing that has never been done before, and with the people cheering and the buzz, and the announcement and echo of the drumming, it's as if you were there, in the crowd. The tension is palpable, the violence is thrown at your face but the scariest one, is the one that lies underneath. Uh, Lucius character tries to attack the General while we, you know, the royals and especial guests, are sitting at our box, and he gets so close, it serves, I think the bottom climbing the ladder to bite the ankles of the top. Obviously, that before we know who Lucius actually is, but I think it's kind of cool"

The interview is ending, the last of your twelve-minute conversation being filmed now.

"I am really excited for everyone to see Paul" Pedro beams, making the younger one laugh. "I'm sorry but it has to be said. You are sensational in the movie" then adds, "and pretty easy on the eyes"

"Everyone in this movie is easy in the eyes" you quip, looking at your side. Pedro coughs a bit before speaking again, even if a faint blush is coating his cheeks.

"-And he worked so hard, and I got to see that happen like, in front of me, and on the day and just lead with Ridley, this enormous crew and this enormous cast... To get to see that, on the big screen, is really exciting and I think people are going to- they're going to love it"

"That's very kind" you exclaim softly with a smile, then add. "I'm sure of it, especially if you were a fan of the first. Both are very interwined, although each film is its own thing" you comment.

"For a lot of us, the actors, we haven't worked on a film on that scale" you violently shake your head "and I think, there's a little bit of trauma bonding that went on with, kind of having to- kind of feel like, total impostor syndrome within it all. But to see your friends operate at that level on a film of that scale, doing like incredible work. I think, across the board, I haven't seen a film on this scale for a long long time rhat's rooted it has the scale and the performances, and I personally think it's one of Ridley's greatest pieces of work"

senhoritamayblog: y/n was SO REAL holding pedro's arm and talking abt how he'd beat paul bc he's beefy ME WHEN moltisantiii: you know what i think ridley's greatest piece of work is? giving us this trio youlooklike-clarabow: y/n is truly a princess 🥹 i don't know if i want to be y/n to be with pedro or pedro to be with y/n ㅤㅤann-gell: youlooklike-clarabow well, she's the people's princess after all!

You haven't even left the room when Pedro is all over you, kissing your neck on that sweet spot of yours that elates a little breathy whine. Doesn't he know you well?

"What are you doing?" you manage to squeak out as his needy big hands grope your body, flesh soft under the flowy white dress. He grunts when he catches your panties, embarrasingly wet already at just a few sloppy kisses and eager touches.

"What do you think?" he whispers against your ear as you both try to walk away from where voices can be heard, and then Pedro is guiding you to a room, closing the door behind him. If he was able to walk to the room while kissing you, he must've seen it in a passing. Had your husband plan this all along? Greedy needy old man.

"What I think, baby, is you're forgetting something" you push him off, giggling. He makes a little pout, making it hard to keep your ground. "Now that everyone knows we're married and we suddenly both go misteriously missing at the same time, they'll just put two and two together. I mean, does it really take a smart person to figure it out?"

Pedro doesn't back down, still caging your frame against the locked door.

"So?" his annoyed and tense voice only makes you laugh more. That turned on was he? Pedro seems annoyed at your fit of laughter, his pants tight.

"What do you mean so? We almost got caught by Paul last time!" you chuckle amused. "And, are you seriously going to pretend TMZ didn't air our bussiness just about last week?"

"Well, maybe you should've thought about it before" he goes back at the task of attacking your mouth, words spewing in between hungry kisses. You mouth a little taunting innocent looking Before what? and then Pedro is talking while his gaze is glued to yours, tightening his arms around you, and the answer is just about that. "You should've thought about it before getting all flirty with me, grabbing my arm in front of the camera like the naughty girl you are. So fucking needy you can't hide it for a few hours, can't even go through an interview without touching me, looking at me, being possesive at a fictional marriage even" your face burns hot with embarrasment at that. Oh, was he being nasty on purpose? Why bring that up? "Haven't I taught you manners?"

It's hard to force yourself to hold his gaze while standing still. Taunting. Defiant.

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you chastise, "do you want people to know we are raw dogging in the dressing room? That's the manners you so badly talk about"

His face goes red, his demostrations stopping for a bit as he studies your now serious face.

"Wait, do you want to raw dog in the dressing room?" he gasps at the boldness in your words, which, to be fair, is kind of exaggerated, as you both have said worst stuff before. "That's not what I had in mind"

"That's not?" you arch an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. You can't just kiss my neck greedily and touch my body eagerly like a goddamn starved horny idiot, and then expect me to not act up on it, you old man"

There's silence before he speaks up again. "Y/n, you talked about manners"

You take a deep breath in, making sure the door is actually locked.

"Well, fuck them manners"

You capture his lips on a hungry kiss, same kind of force you had made fun of him, just minutes ago. He's pushing his tongue inside of you, as his hands move up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and his big calloused hands pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same.

"Manners maketh man" he's reciting, and such stupid proverb and line from one of his old works shouldn't turn you this much. Pedro lifts up the dress until your body is devoid of the cotton, murmuring about how unfair it was for you to taunt him with translucent cloth, tender flesh hiding under the white. So hard to focus on interviews, mami, when you're close to me or something like that, as you're too lost in the fire. No bra? Fuck, baby. Do you want to kill me?

"Sofa" you command, eyes darting to the furniture so you can show him where. "Now"

You take off your panties in a go, revealing the slick that's just a few seconds from running down your legs.

"I see, my legs won't be the only thing drooling" you mock his agape mouth. He takes off the blazer with shaking hands, sitting as you get on top of him. Pedro kisses his way down your neck, sucking on the skin. How will you get out of here without comfirming suspicions? Surely, there must be something inside here that could be of help.

"Well, I've wanted to do this for a while" he mumbles against the now red patches of before honey-ed skin. Again? you think.

"Have me or fuck again in public?" you ask out loud, and even if you're laughing, there's a layer of fondness in your voice. "I'm starting to wonder if you have an exhibition kink, papi"

He breathes a little no before biting right above your collarbones, his tongue then releaving the pain with a wet slick move over the flesh as you let out a whine.

"Busy schedule, mami. A husband's gotta find a way to make time for his pretty wife, even if it means fucking her in the goddamn dressing room" he says into your ear. Pedro had done more interviews than you, and between that and filming for his other projects, he's right. "So what if they find out? Need them to know who you belong to. I'm just a devoted husband, will you punish me for that?"

You caress his face, pristine hair now disheveled, the gel succumbing to the heat and sweat trapped in the room.

"Look at you, naughty boy. El burro hablando de orejas" you laugh, "but of course I won't. Need you too so bad" (look who's talking)

His finger wanders down to your pussy, big hand roaming around the area. His middle and ring finger run over it, the golden band starting to shine with your arousal. Fuck, that just made you wetter.

"Shit, baby. You're so eager... wasn't lying when you talked before"

"Needed you since you kissed me today, when you woke up" your teeth grit at his lingering digits. "Your dick rubbed against my bare thigh, fucking hard"

Truth is, you're always horny; being married to Pedro Pascal does that to you. But mornings? Waking up to that handsome face and girthy dick? You really be testing yourself sometimes.

"Jesus, mami" he whistles. "So fucking dirty, thinking about me all the interview because my morning wood grazed your skin, you dirty naughty girl"

Pedro finally slides his fingers inside of you, making you squirm under his gaze as your back archs. "So fucking beautiful, can't believe you're all mine" he moans and you squeeze his shoulders, nails digging and bruising his skin under the shirt that sticks to his skin, body heating up like a furnace.

"Please, Pedro" you plead, lip biting your under to supress a whimper. "Please curl your fingers, need to have you- feel you inside. Fuck-"

Your words cut off as he moves his fingers with learned ease, his thumb rubbing your clit as a treat.

"Mmm" you murmur with pleasure, back arched again, your tits too dangerously close to his face. Without much thought, he licks your nipple and then devours the whole breast with his mouth. All while looking at you, this absolute horndog. Your nails dig in deeper as you pronounce his name in a shaky exhale. Wanting more. Begging for more.

"Mmm? That's right" his palm on your waist squeezes lightly, more pressure on his grip. "Can't speak 'cause I'm making you feel so good, huh?"

You don't answer, instead throwing your head back, nails digging deep to the point he winces, making a face by the pain. You mouth an apology, but then he licks your nipple again, and teeth move to your nibble your earlobe―you're not sorry anymore.

"S-stop" you choke out, body shivering.

"What? Can't take what you asked for? No muerdas más de lo que puedes masticar, niña mala. Bad girl" (don't bite off more than you can chew, bad girl)

His lewd words elicit another moan out of you.

"I-I can. In fact, I want- no, need more. I don't want to cum on your fingers" you whisper in his ear, hot breath probably why he shivers. "Pull down your pants, pretty boy, because I want to cum on your dick"

"Fuck, mami. What a dirty mouth" he moans.

Eager hands try to lower his pants as your fiddle with the same feel, the borrowed wardrobe struggling to get off in the current position. His underwear goes next, and you squirm as he aligns his tip with your dripping entrance.

You moan and he grunts, as his dick enters your tight folds, sounds clashing onto each other as so do your bodies, fitting perfectly. His hands travel from your waist to ass, his head against the back of the sofa, your hands that were before on his shoulders now on his chest.

"Such a pretty view you're giving me, wifey" he tries to laugh, but the sound comes out strained along each powerful stride of his cock that buries inside of you, each bouncing harder, his hands pathethically running over your ass, back, hips, and legs, as his eyes devour the way your tits jiggle with each thrust, tongue burning with desire to suck on the skin again. "So beautiful, and all mine. Only mine. Mía"

His words drip with devotion and wordship; all the love in the world. Pedro calls you beautiful, goddess, and a string of spanish words crossed with adoration. Mami. Linda. Princesa. Diosa. Hermosa. It has your orgasm looming over, head spinning and pussy stretched, walls tightening.

"I'm close" you whisper, riding him with soft-paced movements as his turn sloppy.

You see stars, walls almost kicking his dick out as you coat it in your slick, arousal dripping down until it's coated his balls and smeared the white attire. Fuck. Now Pedro's moving his waist, hunting for his own orgasm.

"Me too" he breathes out, "stay with me"

His hands travel sloppily to your waist, lazily holding you still with his calloused digits.

"Quick, baby" you breath out, "I'm sensitive"

"I'm almost there. Just hold on a little longer" then a whine before shakily pleading. "Please, please, just wait for me"

You move your hips slowly, aroused by his needy pleads, robbing a moan out of him. "Cute" you praise, making his cheeks redden with sweat and blush.

He is cute: hair messed up, mouth red and puffy, and brown puppy eyes.

"I love you so much" Pedro let's out, and it sounds like a confession, despite being married for so long.

"I know, baby, I know" you reach for his face, removing some sweat beads from his forehead, and he leans on the touch, closing his eyes as another gutural growl erupts from his chest. "I love you too"

You keep on riding until you feel his dick twitch inside of your walls.

"We need to stop doing this" you pant out.

"Too late for that, bonita. At least no one found out this time" Pedro laughs. "But you like the talk, don't you? Gonna give 'em something to talk about" he pants, "will fill you up so good you won't be able to walk without my seed spilling from you" sweat beads from your face fall onto his. He obscenely licks the salty drops. "Te voy a dar tantos hijos, que no cabrán en la casa. That way they will know you're mine" (will give you so many kids, they won't fit in the house)

You moan loufly, folds now coated on thick ropes of hot cum, as his movements come to a stop, slowing down until all that can be heard is your uneven breaths trying to recover.

And on cue, there's a knock at the door. Shit. You both remain silent, as if it would stop, but the knocking turns persistent.

"Pedro, I know you're in there"

It's Paul freaking Mescal, again. You might just have to invite him next time if he keeps showing up like that.

"Should I go?" Pedro whispers, and you shrug, stating it would be weirder to pretend he wasn't if Paul knew he was. "How do I look?"

You eye him up and down, eye glistening with dissaproval, red cheeks giving away your thoughts as if the furrowed eyebrows and ashamed gaze didn't already.

"We are fucked"

"No" he giggles, "we just fucked"

"That's not funny!" you roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest. "Please, look into the mirror and try to fix yourself a bit. If not, we're doomed to be remembered as a horny couple. Oh, we were going so well! Fans will make fun of us and the press will call us horndogs" you lament, exaggerating your voice.

"Oh, shush. We wanted to be able to be in public. This is what it feels like"

You blush. "Maybe we can reduce the public aspect a bit..."

Pedro snorts before doing a quick fix to his appearance, walking to the door where Mescal patiently waits behind. Oh, of course; that little fucker. After the TMZ news dropped, he connected the dots and know that whatever happened in that trailer when Pedro told him to fuck off, wasn't holy at all. Now, he's probably laughing or scheming.

"Paul!" Pedro opens the door. "W-what's up?"

The younger man does a quick scan of his friend, barely able to hide a laugh.

"Looking radiant, my friend" he answers with a shit-eating grin. "They need to do some re-shootings. Have you happen to seen y/n? She just keeps dissappearing when you- oh, when you do!" he mocks. "Well, if you ever happen to find y/n, tell her you both need to get a good fix unless y'all want to show up on TMZ again. I'm pretty sure you can find something in this dressing room to cover those marks, yeah?"

He finally breaks down laughing in front of Pedro's shocked face.

"Ah, you guys are the absolute worst" he folds in a fit of laughter, "so fucking horny you end up fucking in bathrooms and dressing rooms!"

Your voice can be heard from inside as you growl, face red with fury and shame:

"Hijo de puta" (son of a bitch!), "don't make me bring Daisy Edgar-Jones into this!"

l-u-n-a-m: they're just milking their relationship atp for promo but i'm not complaining need more pictures of the photoshoot NOW vnightx: istg if they don't stop flirting in front of my single ass face. i need a gun at0michips: have i gone insane or does pedro have love bites ㅤㅤmybritishstyle: MI HIJO DOES NOT HAVE LOVE BITES. HE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS

*i'm never gonna call twitter as X. it's still twitter, and will always be. fuck that ugly bigot filthy billionaire hoe called elon-trump-cocksucker-musk.

[cthulhus-curse]

The Lion & The Lamb

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,229

Warnings: Fuckboy!Wanda, Breeding, Collars, Daddy Kink, Eventual Fluff, Face Slapping, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Leashes, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: After a chance encounter with your first girlfriend, Wanda feels the need to stake claim over what is rightfully hers.

“So, I was thinking we could go see a movie after finals.”

There was a hopeful tone in your voice as you spoke. It was, as always, seemingly ignored. Normally you’d appear crestfallen, but after having spent months in such a manner, you simply shrugged.

“Oh, uh, sure,” came the bored reply. “Whatever you want, babe.”

“Maybe I could even go to one of your soccer games?” you asked, knowing what the answer would entail.

“If you’d like to, sure.”

You sighed before focusing on your food once again. It was partly your fault, you admitted. Towards the start of your junior year at university, you had gotten involved with your roommate who you spent the first two years crushing over. While it was not an ideal situation that you were in, only being able to involve yourself in sexual endeavors with the woman, it was more than you would have hoped.

Wanda was known to never fully commit. You were sure she had slept with most, if not all, of her soccer team at one point. She could do what she wanted and the two of you had been clear as to what your relationship entailed, but you couldn’t help the hint of jealousy that came out at the thought of others being so close with your friend.

She only eyed her phone as you studied her – the way in which she wore her snapback backwards, her shirt with the sleeves rolled up past her shoulders, which showed off her toned, muscular arms, and gray sweats along with Vans shoes made you drool. The two of you had chosen to spend time before finals, the calm before the storm, stuffing your faces at a local restaurant – you remembered it was Wanda’s favorite, but she did not even notice. It filled you with disdain to know she could hold you in her arms and make you feel the greatest pleasures in life, but not even bat an eye when it came to a more interpersonal relationship, whether platonic or not.

As you bit your bottom lip as a means to keep yourself grounded, the waitress finally came to your table.

“Hi! My name is Natasha and I will be taking care of you two ladies today. Can I get you guys started with any drinks?” came a voice that you recognized so well.

Turning around, your eyes widened. You were met with a sight you had not seen in years. There stood a redhead with a notepad, smiling at Wanda before turning to you. In a manner that made your heart soar, she only beamed wider when noticing your appearance.

“Y/N?” she questioned with bewilderment. “It’s been so long!”

“Hey, Nat,” you greeted while sitting up straight. “Holy shit, it’s been years! How are you? Nice haircut by the way.”

“Thank you! I’m alright though, just working my way through life until I save up enough to move to California,” Natasha chuckled – you vividly remembered how, during the time in which the two of you had been together, she always dreamed of escaping the cold claws of the east coast and moving to a much warmer atmosphere. “And how are you? You look amazing, detka.”

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed how Wanda visibly tensed at the pet name. She would call you that from time to time while writhing on top of you. Nobody had ever referred to you in that manner from her knowledge. If anything, she never appeared interested in knowing about your past relationships or really anything to do with your personal life.

“I’m doing well. I got finals in a few weeks and I am trying to treat myself before potentially getting a brain aneurysm from all the studying.”

The two of you shared a laugh. It felt as if no time had passed since you were high school students kissing under the bleachers of the football field, away from prying eyes. Natasha had been your first love; it nearly broke your heart when your relationship only turned to shambles as you went off to college and she remained in the work-force. It was not the same when you couldn’t see one another at all times. Still, you found yourself missing her while staring into deep green eyes that never failed to hypnotize you – in that moment, it felt as though there was nobody else but the two of you, although the gnawing image of Wanda still appeared in your brain.

“I’m Wanda, by the way,” came the dirty blonde’s voice through gritted teeth from the other side of the table. “Nice to meet you.”

You recognized the condescending look which she threw at Natasha, one that was typically reserved for the idiotic professors who she almost always clashed with. There was a hesitant wave thrown your ex’s way – a bit too much if you said so yourself.

“Oh, likewise,” Natasha simply replied before turning back to you. “Are you two…?”

“Nope. We’re just friends and roommates,” you quoted Wanda’s words whenever someone asked the same question.

It was strange to watch Wanda’s behavior. You swore her fingernails dug into the table as she kept herself from commenting. Her mouth formed a straight line as she practically stared daggers at Natasha.

“Y/N and I used to date back in high school,” Natasha commented as she let her eyes gaze over Wanda before returning them to you. “Here, I’ll give you my number. We really should catch up and go for a coffee or something. I’d like to know more about how you’re doing.”

After she was finished scribbling away in her notepad, Natasha tore the piece of paper and handed it to you. There was a heart beside the ten digits which warmed your own. You assumed that if Wanda wanted nothing to do with you, perhaps the previous love between you and your ex could be lit up once again.

With a satisfied smirk, Natasha spoke again.

“Now, what can I get you for drinks?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

The remainder of lunch had been spent in a wave of awkward silence between you and Wanda. She only questioned you about Natasha twice, asking how long the two of you had been together and what your feelings for her were currently – all you did was respond with ‘I don’t know’ to the latter.

Once you were done and ready to split the food, Wanda stopped you. She paid for everything, even if it was rather expensive given the status of the restaurant. The sly smirk along with the head tilt she gave Natasha as she came over to pick up the check became ingrained in your brain.

There was even more silence that followed on your way to your shared dorm. It surprised you to feel Wanda’s hand over your own suddenly. She held it tight as the two of you walked around town en route to the campus. Rather than take notice of your questioning gaze, the woman simply held her head up and carried on.

When you had finally arrived at your dorm, ignoring the questioning gazes from the others who noticed your interlaced hands, Wanda urged you inside. She locked the door behind her, taking off her snap-back before throwing it to the side not caring where it landed.

“Take off your clothes, baby,” Wanda ordered softly. “Go get your collar and leash, okay?”

You recognized that exhausted tone, only did not know where it had stemmed from. Still, you were not about to question Wanda’s actions. Even if the dorm room was small, you still made your way to your side while simultaneously tugging at your shirt, all while searching for the required items.

From behind, you failed to notice Wanda mirroring your actions. She carefully pulled at her clothes, letting them fall over the floor before her bed, which she kneeled by. Her hands went under it, dragging a box that lay beneath out of the dark. When opening it, she smiled – once and for all, Wanda would let herself own only you and nobody else.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said with slight giddiness, smiling at the way the pink faux-leather collar squeezed your neck while the similarly-colored leash fell down your body.

“Crawl to me, Y/N,” Wanda said. “Come here.”

When you got down on your hands and knees, you took in her appearance. She was sitting over the edge of her bed still yanking at the harness over her hips with a dildo standing proudly. You could tell it was the special one she only used several times on you, causing your heart to nearly skip a beat. As you took in the naked beauty who then went to pull her hair into a messy bun, you were frozen in place.

“Don’t make daddy repeat herself,” she announced with a much more dangerous tone. “I need my obedient girl today.”

Before you began moving, you nodded. There was no hesitation that came out as you crawled towards your roommate, a serious look over your face as you attempted to study her. She was clearly upset. That along with her silent hostility towards Natasha at the restaurant made you wonder if she was truly jealous as you suspected.

“You know you’re mine, right?” Wanda asked, her voice seemingly small as you kneeled before you. “You can answer, angel.”

“I know, daddy.”

A hand went to your cheek, softly cupping it. Wanda let her thumb graze around your flushed skin, smiling as you shyly attempted to hide yourself. As much as you loved the unabashed roughness she tended to show at times, such tender acts filled you with joy.

Wanda tugged at the leash, forcing you towards her as she took your lips with her own in a searing kiss. It was rough, somehow different from any other she had planted over your mouth. Ever since having seen Natasha, her emotions had been heightened.

“You’re daddy’s pretty toy. I don’t want anyone else to have you, ever,” she explained as she took small breaks from your making-out session. “And I never want anyone else. I just…I need you.”

“I’m here, daddy,” you replied. There were tears nearly forming at the words she spoke. Even if you were unsure whether she meant them or not, they made your heart swell. All you ever wanted since first meeting Wanda was to be hers – her only toy. “Tell me what I can do to please you.”

One last kiss was placed over your mouth, firmly planted as Wanda lingered there for a few seconds. She let your foreheads pressed together while listening to your mirrored ragged breaths. Never had you been through such intimacy with her.

“Come lay down, princess. Let me use you for a bit,” Wanda announced as she leaned back. She grabbed your hands and helped you up, smiling as you carefully went towards the bed. “Daddy’s going to fill you up with cum until you’re a crying mess okay? I need to make you mine and ruin you for anyone else.”

“Yes, daddy,” you giddily replied, beaming at the idea of potentially being Wanda’s.

Wanda shifted over the bed, her eyes roaming all over your body. She put her hands over your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart. At the sight of your already drenched cunt, she hummed approvingly.

She moved closer to you, letting the creamy dildo side against you. It was grabbed carefully as she did not want to set off the fake cum by squeezing hard. The tip swirled against your slit, garnering large amounts of your juices over it. While you were wet, it was not enough to keep you from being hurt by the roughness she wished to exert.

“Be right back,” Wanda uttered before moving away.

It felt like a lifetime went by before she came back from kneeling over the floor. In her wake, she carried a bottle of lubricant. When she finally settled between your legs once again, you felt at peace. Drops of the lube were squired over the silicone cock before Wanda’s free hand went to spread it across the length. It wasn’t until it glistened with the liquid that she threw the bottle to the other side of the bed.

Wanda gripped the dildo again before letting it touch your entrance. Rather than swirl it all across letting you grow used to such a feeling, she began easing herself in. There was slight caution to her movements only to be replaced quickly by her trademark self.

Her cock spread your pussy apart. Velvety walls moved to welcome the large toy before wrapping themselves around it. Even after having had it used on you various times throughout the semester, you still moaned loudly whenever Wanda filled you up.

“God, you’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows. She pushed her hips forth before you were able to reply, only yelping loudly instead. “If you wanted me to make you mine, all you had to do was ask. Not whore yourself out for someone else. So stupid.”

All you could do was lay there, taking each thrust with the utmost joy. A hand went to tug at your leash, bringing your face forth while simultaneously choking you. Wanda’s eyes were dark and similar in appearance to those which had begrudgingly stared at Natasha throughout lunch. With her face dangerously close, a free hand went to cup your cheek.

“Tell me who owns you,” Wanda roared. She brought her hand down over your cheek, slapping it with might as you hissed in return. Those little sounds never ceased to make her smile. “Who’s the only one that can fuck you this well? Who owns your pussy?”

“It’s you, daddy!” came your cry as she hit your face again, holding the leash steadily in order to keep you from squirming away. “You own every inch of me. I promise you I am nobody else’s.”

“That’s a good answer,” Wanda whispered. She gave you one last slap for good measure, only it was softer. “Now open your mouth.”

When you gave into temptation, Wanda soon hovered her mouth above your own. She spit at you, grunting as she drove the toy deeper into your cunt with force.

“You’re such a good whore, Y/N. Just look at how well you take daddy’s cock. Your pretty pussy is practically begging to be fucked, eh?”

You didn’t trust yourself speaking, so instead you were sure to nod with vigor. Your hips began grinding against the dildo in an attempt to get off quickly. With your arousal at its peak, it would not be long until you turned into a mess in Wanda’s arms.

With closed eyes, you held into Wanda for support. Your hands landed over her bare upper arms, squeezing them and groaning. She flexed them slightly, forcing you to open your orbs and stare at the sight before you. Her muscles were clearly visible — you always did love when she used all her strength to pick you up and throw you over the bed before ravaging you.

“Awww baby, you’re adorable,” Wanda laughed as she sat back. Still holding the leash, she brought her other hand down your body, letting it ghost over your lower stomach where a small bulge appeared whenever she pushed the dildo into your depths. “What a stupid cock whore you are. I bet Natasha couldn’t ever make you feel this way, eh, detka? You’re my loyal little bitch.”

“Mhm daddy,” you breathed as her fingers pressed against your body.

Wanda dug her cock as deep as she could, giggling at the much larger bulge shown. The palm of her hand held it down, making you scream out in a midst of immense pleasure.

“You’re close, aren’t you? You’ll soon be daddy’s breeding bitch.”

At that, you nodded with tears already forming in your eyes at your overwhelming arousal. Still pressing down on your body while simultaneously tugging at the leash, Wanda tilted her head. You were the most adorable toy she had seen — always ready to please her whenever and however she wished.

“Come for daddy, baby girl. All over my cock, okay?”

“Yes, daddy,” you murmured, letting your head fall back, enjoying how the collar choked you, as you fell apart.

Dismay took over your being as Wanda removed the toy from your pussy as you moaned through your orgasm. The leash had been left over your naked body as well which visibly made you pout. It was only made better as a hand went to keep your thighs open while the other squeezed the dildo with might.

It wasn’t long until a squirt of fake cum shot through your cunt, filling you up slowly. The white substance was thick as it quickly poured into you. Wanda always loved stuffing the toy with all the could as a means to please you further.

Once you were all nice and full, the woman’s cock slid back inside. It was held there frozen in place as you recovered from your orgasm, your chest still heaving up and down as your body shook.

“I’ll help get you cleaned up in a second, detka,” Wanda mumbled as she leaned down. She pressed her forehead against your own in a manner that was unheard of from such a self-proclaimed cold-hearted person. She sighed, closing her eyes before breathing in the stench of sex that filled the dorm. “You did so well. Thank you for always trusting me enough to touch you like this.”

“And thank you for always being so good to me,” you replied with a tired smile, frowning as Wanda only shook her head in retort.

“I just…I’m sorry. I’ve been really shitty ever since we started doing this. It’s just sex like we both agreed to and, yeah, you know it’s been going on with others for me, but I don’t want that anymore,” Wanda admitted with apparent embarrassment at having to showcase such emotions that were seemingly alien to her. “So, do you want to be my girlfriend? Like, actually I mean. I don’t want anyone else to be honest. Just you, Y/N.”

You remained silent, your eyes wide as you heard the words that spilled from your friend’s mouth. All which you had dreamed of ever since setting your eyes on the blonde woman was becoming reality.

“Fuck, I know I’m an idiot. I can’t expect you to say yes after I’ve spent all these years fucking around literally,” Wanda said with a mix of guilt and disgust at her behavior, especially since all she had ever wanted was you. “Seeing firsthand that someone else can potentially have you too makes my blood boil. You’re my detka, nobody else’s. You can take some time to think about it too. I want you to be o-”

You did not hesitate to squeeze her arms, groaning at their muscular appearance, before pulling her close. Lips interlocked for what you knew would be a core memory throughout your life. You held her close, afraid that if for a moment you were to let go, Wanda would be gone as soon as she came.

“I would love that so much,” you admitted when pulling away to grasp for air while leaving your foreheads touching. “I really want to be yours, Wanda. Always.”

[diagonal-queen]

im basically back so i'm doing this even though nobody will read it lol (i dont even blame you because look at all that TEXT)

Do you have a good relationship with your parents? not really i guess? it's complicated so imma just say nah

Who did you last say “I love you” to? i think to my dog lol

Do you regret anything? i regret writing rpf as a kid 💀 i also regret smacking my little brother's butt to discipline him as a kid. it goes against my stance of 'don't hit children' that i have today and i do feel real bad about it, i just emulated the parenting techniques i knew at that age.

Are you insecure? HELLA lmao

What is your relationship status? single as FUCK boiiiiiiiiiii

How do you want to die? peacefully and in my sleep with my puppies laying next to me

What did you last eat? right now i'm eating crackers

Played any sports? used to be a bit of a discus prodigy as a kid, and was also not a half-bad sprinter. i danced from 2-12 as well and also enjoyed chess. nowadays i don't play any sports

Do you bite your nails? i do on occasion but i try not to

When was your last physical fight? i've never been in one. maybe with my sister when we were kids? idk

Do you like someone? kind of? if that makes sense

Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? no. but i've tried for sure lol

Do you hate anyone at the moment? yeah, but by now it's a dormant hate that just lingers

Do you miss someone? is it possible to miss someone you haven't met irl before?

Have any pets? two doggos!

How exactly are you feeling at the moment? neutral, but like a 6/10

Ever made out in the bathroom? i mean a lot of people pee in the woods right so technically yeah

Are you scared of spiders? i'm desensitised mostly, like if i see one i won't kill it (unless i KNOW it's dangerous). if the spider is on me it's a different story

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? i literally always think about this lol. there's so much i wish i could change but at the same time, even though i don't like myself, i don't think i deserve to be put through all that again

Where was the last place you snogged someone? the gay bar

What are your plans for this weekend? moving lol

Do you want to have kids? How many? i would usually say 'i'm 20 i'm too young to consider it yet' but one of my classmates from highschool has a baby already so i don't know man T-T

Do you have piercings? How many? just on my ears

What is/are/were your best subject(s)? english and legal studies in highschool, and psychology now.

Do you miss anyone from your past? i reminisce but don't miss

What are you craving right now? a warm brownie would be great

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? HE said i did, i don't believe him, but even if i did he deserved it (trust me on this one. he deserved it.)

Have you ever been cheated on? not that i'm aware of, but i wouldn't be surprised if i was

Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? not that i'm aware of. i hope not??

What’s irritating you right now? the heat. i'm not having a hot girl summer at all T-T

Does somebody love you? i hope so

What is your favourite color? i like baby and dusty pink. and lilac

Do you have trust issues? i'm pretty sure

Who/what was your last dream about? last night i dreamt that i was in a relationship with pt4 jotaro. he was quiet, gentle and loving. this is weird because i am female

Who was the last person you cried in front of? i think my mother? if not then probably my bestie

Do you give out second chances too easily? yes, sadly

Is it easier to forgive or forget? it's hard for me to forgive someone if they don't at least apologise. so i guess forget

Is this year the best year of your life? it's february, but like hopefully yeah!

How old were you when you had your first kiss? sweet 16

Have you ever walked outside completely naked? no T-T

Favourite food? fried chicken, one specific chocolate cake, yellow nectarines and sushi

Do you believe everything happens for a reason? not in the way others do

What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? watched scott cramer

Is cheating ever okay? usually i'd say no. but there are rare instances where i reckon it's not necessarily a bad thing (as bad as that might sound)

Are you mean? i don't think so

How many people have you fist fought? none?? T-T

Do you believe in true love? yes

Favourite weather? dark and overcast (not raining), cool but not cold

Do you like the snow? i've only been in snow once and it was a good time. but i got ice in my eye during a snowball fight and it scarred me a little bit

Do you wanna get married? for sure i do! i know most people think of marriage culture as outdated and heteronormative (which i fully understand) but i do want to be a bride one day. i'd love that

Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? hm...when a girl does it i don't mind but when a boy does it it feels a little icky IM SORRY </3

What makes you happy? clowns, stuffed toys, colourful soap, poofy sleeves, tbh i'm really a six year old at heart and a lot of things make me happy

Would you change your name? okay so i wouldn't legally change my first name (i don't often like when people besides my family use it, but it's rare and pretty so i wanna keep it), but i would like to make Dia my legal alias that would be so sick. i would for sure change my last name though that shit boring asf

Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? no. i'd kiss her again she was nice

Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? i'd marry and adopt kittens with you @jesterph0bic

Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? refer to question 55

Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? my brother (hbd btw)

Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? my sister

Do you believe in soulmates? yes but not in the traditional way

Is there anyone you would die for? yes

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[spencerreiddddd]

Jealousy.

Gist: Your called on a case and the leading chief of the police department seems to be very smitten with you, Spencer doesn’t like this one bit.

“He’s been staring at you the entire briefing, is he not self aware?” A voice whispered in your ear causing you to slightly turn your head to your right to look at Spencer the owner of the voice.

“Who has?” A small confused frown developing on your face.

“Mr. Mustache over there.” Spencer said a small cocky smile forming on his as he eyes you while you turn to look at the man who Spencer claims has been eyeing you. As you turn to look at him he’s already looking at you, he flashes you a small smile before averting his gaze.

You turn to look back at Spencer.

“You mean officer Smith?” You whisper not trying to disrupt the briefing Rossi was giving on the current case you were called to take in Florida.

“Whatever his name is.” Spencer grumbled causing you to chuckle slightly.

“Now if I didn’t know any better I’d say someone is jealous.” You smirked looking at him teasingly.

Spencer grew pink in the face as his ears hummed a light red color at the fact you called him out.

You and Spencer had been dating for almost 3 years already. You both kept your relationship private the team knew and if anyone asked you’d tell them but you both didn’t go around flaunting your relationship.

“I just don’t like the way he’s looking at you.” He whispered looking away from your teasing smile.

“You’re adorable.” You said as Rossi ended the briefing and everyone got up ready to leave the room.

“I have to head to the bathroom really quickly, wait for me here so we can head out together?” Spencer turned to look at you as he grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder.

“Yeah baby.” You smiled as you grabbed your file folder and put your bag over your shoulder.

Spencer smiled and walked out of the room.

On the way out the room yourself you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

Turning around you were met with officer Smith, or as Spencer would say Mr. Mustache due to the very well groomed 90’s style he had going on.

“Oh hello-.” You said a little surprised.

“Hello Ms. Y/N, sorry for stopping you but I just wanted to say I’m a big fan of your work.” Smith said sheepishly a small nervous smile forming on his face as he talked.

You smiled softly at him.

“Thank you very much, it means a lot.” You said nicely causing his eyes to glisten.

“Your books are very eye opening and are what inspired me to join the police department and serve my city, so it’s very nice and an honor to meet you.” Smith said stretching his hand out for me to shake.

As you shook his hand you felt a familiar arm place itself on your hip.

Looking to the side to see Spencer with a serious face next to you.

“Hey I’m back.” Spencer said smiling at you.

You nodded “Well I have to get going, it was very nice to meet you.” You said nicely giving smith a small wave as Spencer guided you out of the room.

“Yeah…” smith responded as he watched you leave.

Unknown to you Spencer had looked back and threw Smith a look that any man knew to mean “stay away.”

Sorry I’ve been gone for so long life has been BRUTAL. That’s all I’ll say…so here’s a small happy story for you guys🫶🏼

[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 5 | l.n

summary: oh damn, never seen that color blue…

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy x sunshine, some more filler (IM SORRY ITS FOR THE PLOT!!!!!), fluff (EEKK!!!!), subtle foreshadowing, unedited as fuck, and hints at a strained family relationship (trauma!!)

message from jordan: hi everyone! long time no see, huh? 😅 i'm so sorry for being mia and for not updating this series in so long, i decided to take a small break from almost all socials. but don't worry, we're back and better than ever <3 as always, thank you for being so patient with me. i hope this chapter is worth the wait!! see you soon, for real this time :) - p.s i hope you enjoy that taylor swift reference in the summary, cause, iykyk 🙂‍↕️

series masterlist | listen to the playlist

“hellloooo earth to oscar!”

it was no use. this was the third time he had unintentionally interrupted your conversation to respond to a text. all while doing so with a giddy smile, one you had never seen light up his face quite like this one did.

you had come over right after class, the two of you agreeing to hang out and catch up. it had been a while since it had just been the two of you hanging out, the inevitable busy schedules really hitting hard during your last semester. you missed your best friend.

missed meaning past tense. because although he was your best friend, right now, you wanted to snap his neck.

"oscar jack piastri!"

"oh- sorry," he mumbled the same apology for the third time this afternoon, "sorry, i was just texting someone. it's nothing, what were we talking about?"

you gave him a blank stare, "were you texting your secret girlfriend?"

you noticed the way his eyes widened a little upon mentioning the word ‘girlfriend’, "okay, one, she's not my girlfriend. and two, no. i was texting max."

and for the four years you've known oscar piastri, you could always tell when he was lying. and this time, he was lying right to your face.

you decided to play along with his game, letting him think he won this time. so you hummed, nodding your head, "okay, fine, if you say so."

"i'm sorry," he apologized again, locking his phone and placing it face down on the kitchen counter, "you have my full attention now, promise. what were you saying?"

"i was telling you about last week."

"right, with lando and the diner thing, right?" he asked and you hummed, taking a piece of popcorn from the bowl in between the two of you, "wait a minute, how'd you go from hating his guts and it being unbearable to be within 5 feet of him to 'oh my god he took me to breakfast'?"

"you know that party lily practically dragged me to?" when he nodded you spoke again, "apparently i really suck at beer pong and he helped me back to the apartment and helped lily take care of me. it was really sweet, actually."

he smiled softly before letting out a quiet snort, "sorry, just never thought i'd hear you say the words 'lando' and 'sweet' in the same sentence."

"i'm serious!" you sighed, pouting ever so slightly.

"no, i know!" he laughed softly, "it's just... you're just now finding out what i've been trying to tell you for the longest time? that he's actually a really good dude?"

you bit down on your lower lip softly, "i didn't really give him a chance, huh?"

"not really, no," he chuckled softly, "but it's okay. he didn't exactly help out his own case either, in all honesty."

you nodded in agreement, the front door to the apartment creaking open. you both turned to see lando kicking off his shoes, placing his keys on the hook by the door.

he smiled at you and oscar, "hey,"

"hey," oscar smiled, answering for you as well as you took in his appearance. messy curls, tight black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, duffel bag on his shoulder and a soft glow on his skin, you could tell he had just gotten back from the gym.

arms. biceps. veins. god, you should probably speak before you embarrass yourself...

it was too late though, he had already seen the way your eyes traveled over his body. he decided to put the mental note in the back of his mind for now, instead checking the watch on his wrist.

"oh shit, i didn't mean to keep you waiting, y/n."

you tapped your phone screen, looking at the time. it was 4:35, just five minutes passed when you said you'd meet up. it really wasn't a big deal. you didn't even know it had gotten that late already.

"no, no, it's fine. didn't even notice, if i'm honest," you smiled and he sent you a smile back. oscar watched the two of you like a tennis match, cheekily grinning at the counter.

"i have some of those papers you had me work on the other day, they're in my room if you wanna..."

"oh- yeah! yeah, sure," you smiled, grabbing your things as oscar silently laughed at the way you acted around his roommate. how you were unintentionally tripping and stumbling over your own feet and your words, how lovestruck you became.

you followed lando to his room, placing your things down and taking a seat on the edge of his bed as he looked through his closet for a change of clothes, "i'm just gonna shower real quick, make yourself at home, though."

you smiled, nodding his way as he closed the door behind him. after all this time, you had never thought you'd see the other side of this door. his room was slightly messy, due to his busy schedule and his active lifestyle. posters of cars and, seemingly, his favorite video games hanging on the walls. the bookshelf that sat in the corner of the room was littered with different textbooks at the bottom and little die cast models of his favorite cars, along with a few formula one cars that you had recognized. the top shelf stood out the most to you, though.

a picture frame of him and who you had assumed to be his family. a family photo taken during christmas, all of them dressed in matching pajamas. a big happy family.

the photo, for whatever reason, brought tears to your eyes. a smile on your face as you sniffled quietly, putting the photo frame back down on it's designated shelf.

the door opened, causing you to turn around as he closed the door behind him, "sorry, i figured you'd prefer if i didn't smell like a guy's locker-room."

you laughed softly, wiping away the small tear that came from your eye, "god, yeah,"

"hey," he said, sitting down on the bed beside you, immediately disregarding the notebook he was grabbing beforehand, "what's wrong? you okay?"

you nodded, waving a hand dismissively, "yeah, yeah, i'm fine. i just- for whatever reason, when i looked at that picture of you and your family it just uhm..."

he patiently waited for you to finish your sentence, "it just brought back some feelings that i wish it hadn't, that's all."

"fuck, i'm so sorry," he said.

"no, no," you shook your head, "you don't have to apologize, if anything i should be the one who's apologizing."

"you don't have to apologize for having emotions."

you smiled softly, feeling another tear fall from the corner of your eye. this time, he gently brought his hand up to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he wiped it away.

the action made you breathless, as if the way he was looking into your eyes hadn't already. a mysterious color you couldn't quite put your finger on. it was a mix between blue, green and grey.

whatever it was, it was gorgeous and captivating at the same time.

you cleared your throat, the two of you moving away from the gap that had slowly been closing. your fingers untwisting themselves from his, you growing flushed at the fact that you had, at some point, interlocked your fingers with his unknowingly.

"sorry," you mumbled softly.

"'m sorry," he said at the same time. you both shared a soft and awkward chuckle before he grabbed his notebook from behind him.

"so, i had a few questions about chapter 15."

"go on," you said, studying his side profile as he explained the areas he was having trouble with. pretty tanned skin littered with freckles and moles, curls that perfectly kissed the skin on the back of his neck and his forehead.

the sentence lily had said to you last week repeating itself into your brain:

“...and it’s not like i don’t see the way he looks at you. he definitely is feeling something he doesn’t want to show just yet,”

oh, fuck.

[bitchface24-7]

This is a really short request but jayvik x reader who like just randomly cut her hair short one day for no reason other than vibes

A SMALL CHANGE - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you’ve always had luscious hair. It was the main thing people complimented you on, and you’re starting to hate it. You’ve always wanted to change your hairstyle; try something new. After a minor crash out, you’ve got no choice but to chop it all off. Hopefully, you won't regret it in the morning.

warnings: y'all smoke in this, crash out (no reason in particular described), impulsively cutting your hair, overthinking, your boys LOVE the new look; stop being a silly goose, fluff, pre-established relationship, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I went through a phase for a few years where the longest my hair went was just brushing my shoulders. I had a french bob for a while, I even experimented with bangs that weren't curtain style. I'd love to go as short as Winona is up above but I'd like to re-experience my long hair again before that. Hope y'all enjoy!

Life’s been kicking your ass recently

Nothing has gone to plan. Your work life, social life, hell even some of your romantic life has taken a small hit due to the importance of Hextech and he council breathing down your boys necks.

So one day, when they're out late, and you mean late at the lab, the straw finally broke the camels back. And you crashed out. Hard.

After all this built-up tension, and frustration, you just couldn't take it anymore.

In an oversized t-shirt stolen from Jayce and a simple pair of underwear, you snag your pack of cigarettes out of your bedside drawer. You quickly sit on your windowsill in your room and pop a cigarette in between your lips and start to puff like a train.

It’s not helping you in the way it usually does. You're running your hands through your hair, your leg is bouncing up and down incessantly, your anxiety hasn't wained at all.

As you look out into the distance and see the councillor's tower, you get up and stomp your way to the bathroom. You hastily enter the ensuite and slam your hands into the counter, swiping off all of your toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, and deodorant.

You look in the mirror and glare at yourself, inhaling shakily and exhaling the cigarette still gently placed in your mouth. You open the medicine cabinet and grab a pair of scissors, and without even thinking, you grab a chunk of hair.

Snip.

You freeze for a moment. Holy shit. You just… yup. You just cut a good chunk of hair off. Maybe like… six inches? Seven?

Well, shit. You don't have the power to reverse time so… you've gotta fix this. You've always wanted to change your hair, even if others disagreed with you. But you thought you'd be in a salon chair getting this mini makeover, not at three in the morning as you angrily cut your hair without thinking.

So you do just that. You start to cut your hair.

Snip.

Snip.

Snip.

More and more hair falls into the sink, it's almost a ridiculous amount. It looks like a small dog at this point. A little bit of layering here, face-framing pieces here, you even add some curtain bangs to accentuate your features.

Almost all of your hair is in the sink by the time you're done. You calmly place the scissors down and look at yourself in the mirror, appreciating your work.

The haircut is the shortest your hair has ever been. It stops at the nape of your neck, there are longer layers, curtain bangs, and a nice voluminousness to your hair now. You run a hand through your hair and giggle. It's so short, so light, so different.

You put two fingers onto your cigarette and inhale once more, taking the tobacco out of your mouth and slowly exhaling, you rub one eye with the hand holding the cigarette, aiming the lighted end away from your face and hair. You smile at yourself in the mirror.

You look good. Better than good. You look fantastic! You freeze for a moment when a freight train hits you. Oh god. Viktor and Jayce have no idea about what you've just done. They're gonna come home and all your hair is essentially gone. What if they hate it? What if they think you're ugly? What if they break up with you?

You shut those thoughts down quickly. They're not vain. They won't break your heart over something so minuscule. You put the cigarette back in between your lips and clean up the bathroom. Cleaning the sink by tossing all the hair you can into the trash, the rest going down the drain. You pick up all the care items you swiped and put them back in their respective spots.

You take one last look in the mirror and casually stroll back to your bedroom, finishing the cigarette and putting it out in your ashtray at the windowsill. A light groan escapes you as you stretch and bundle yourself into your bed. You'll worry about Jayce and Viktor's reaction in the morning.

Its now the morning and you completely forgot about what you did until you wake up and run a hand through your hair.

You chopped it all off last night. Oops.

Some noise in the kitchen disturbs your thoughts, so you whip on some comfy pajama shorts and put some slippers onto your feet, the floors are cold in the morning.

Jayce is bustling in the kitchen as Viktor sits at the island sipping his coffee, and reading the newspaper.

Their attention immediately turns to you when they hear you shuffle into the room. They look shocked at your appearance.

“Holy shit babe,” Jayce starts, almost dropping a pan, “Your hair. It looks—”

“Bad.” You nervously interrupt, as your eyes dart between the two of them. Jayce's jaw stays dropped as he checks you out, Viktor lightly shakes his head and smirks “Good. He was going to say it looks good darling. Phenomenal I’d say. It frames your face wonderfully, and it leaves more skin exposed.”

You feel your face heat up at his deceleration and run a hand through your hair, it fluffs up your bangs and it makes Jayce choke a bit as Viktor sniggers. You sit next to Viktor and he immediately places a kiss on your bare shoulder. “See? Oversized shirt, short hair, easy access.”

A small snort escapes you as you lightly slap Viktor in the chest, “You perv.”

“It's the truth! Jayce, tell them!”

Jayce looks at you, eyes big and pleading, “He’s right. I thought you were attractive before but wow… this haircut really suits you.”

You can't help but smile at your two boys. Your mind made you think the craziest thougts. Jumping through fire to get to those conclusions. But you knew they really wouldn't mind, they love you, not your hair.

And they seem to really really like it.

So having a minor crash out at three in the morning and impulsively cutting your hair was a good thing after all. Who knew?

I too have impulsively cut my hair at 3am, the shortest I went was a french bob. I'm currently growing my hair out after having it short for three years. I want long hair again for a while before doing a big chop like the one up above.

[menlove]

queer paul tome pt 1: everything not related to john

okay i've been saying i'd make this post forever and it's uh. long. so i decided to split it up into four parts so i can get this first bit out and let it stop haunting me and so it's not 50 miles long.

feel free to add your own if it's not here or shoot me an ask and i'll add it :)

disclaimer: i'm not definitively saying sir paul mccartney is queer. i mean i really firmly think he is but it's all just speculation. also, if he is, there's obviously a reason he's not out about it & he deserves to have his privacy respected. i just personally find the dominant narrative in the fandom & even in larger spaces that poor pining queer john was in love with tragically heterosexual paul completely unconvincing and neeeeeed to be insane for a minute here

if this pisses u off u can simply scroll on by i do not need an essay in my notes. make your own post if you disagree.

(paul doing this for whatever reason in beverly hills, 1974- also the same trip he saw john on bc sure i guess)

this doesn't include lyrics as the main argument bc i saw a post ages ago basically saying there's nothing outside of them and lowkey i took that as a challenge because there's SO much outside of his lyrics that point to him being queer.

that being SAID, this is going to be split into four posts: not john related (most important and thus first bc there's so much documented about mclennon & john being queer, but not paul by himself), john related, paul's relationships w other men (these ones aren't all like... concrete and that's why they aren't included here but w all the context that'll come before it his relationships to certain men are..... interesting), and finally lyrics last bc some of them you genuinely can't just ignore

part 2- john related part 3- other men part 4- lyrics (those will have links once i actually make them)

also, i'm sure people have made similar posts before- i haven't seen them (other than this one an anon sent while i was writing this up which is sooo interesting but does have a lot of dead links) but if you have one you want to share feel free!

time to get into it. i'm avoiding homework by doing this.

(sidenote: not including instances of him just flirting w men bc body language can be read a lot of different ways- but if y'all wanna add any i know they're a dime a dozen like w george m., mal, random reporters, robert fraser, etc)

1- "Just kidding, Linda..."

REPORTER: You're a very, very good looking man. PAUL: [sits up straighter, making a sort of campy gesture towards the crowd, turning into a point] Get that boy's name. [Drops his hand, smiling and leaning his cheek on his hand.] Just kidding, Linda. REPORTER: [unintelligible] PAUL: What? REPORTER: I said- do you have a secret, looking so nice for fifty years? PAUL: [grins, resting his chin on his hand again and batting his eyelashes] Yes, it's the drugs, you know.

(originally posted on here by @northernsongspeels who hasn't been active in a while) this one is so crazy to me. he's so obviously flirting with that man and he's apologizing to linda for flirting with that man. like it's a conversation they've had before.

2- "Yes, boys."

this video (originally posted by @ilovedig here)

PAUL: Yes, I think the main difference is that when you are that age- which I'm sure you remember, Tom- TOM: It's back there in the dim distant past, yes. PAUL: When you're that age, that's the kind of thing to do. I mean, what you're doing is you're going 'round and you're basically looking for girls or whatever turns you on and stuff. So, uh, yeah, I- TOM: Well- well could you give me the alternatives to girls? Are there others? LINDA: [scoffs] PAUL: Yes, boys. TOM: Oh! No.

3- "He's so good looking."

Paul McCartney first read the name and saw the photo (for weeks there was just one crazy photo of Elvis available in Britain) during a free period at Liverpool Institute. Again, it was a friend with the NME, and there was an advert for Heartbreak Hotel. "I thought, 'He's so good looking,'" Paul says, "he just looked perfect." Mark Lewisohn, All These Years Vol. 1 Tune In, sourced from the Anthology TV series by Lewisohn.

4- "A Nice Person Girl"

this fun little interview... (originally posted by @amoralto idk why the archive.org capture of it looks funky but the audio is still there) take it w a grain of salt bc it can also just read as a homophobic joke but like.

August 22nd, 1966 (Warwick Hotel, New York): As DJ “Cousin Brucie” Morrow conducts brief interviews with each of the Beatles, one by one, he asks Paul to settle the rumours that have been circulating in the press about the status of his relationship with Jane Asher. MORROW: Moving over here to Paul – someone just handed me a card. I guess this is… [focusing] Last year, when you were on my microphone here— PAUL: Ask me something about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Rick Sklar? That’s my boss. JOHN: Ask Paul about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Uh, Paul, last year when you were on my microphone, I think somebody – one of your staff – announced an engagement of you and Jane. PAUL: Uh… MORROW: Do you remember that? It was announced on the air. And then I remember we said something on the air and then thousands of people from the street went, “Oh.” What is it with you and Jane now? How – what is your relationship? Are you planning a marriage, planning an engagement, are you just boyfriend and girlfriend, what is it? Tell us the whole thing. JOHN: [mutters; inaudible] PAUL: Uh. We’re just queer, that’s the scene. [uproarious laughter in background] That’s the scene. Well I mean, I couldn’t say that on the air live, you know. JOHN: No, you’ll get into trouble for it. PAUL: No, the thing is, Cousin Bruce – um, we haven’t got plans to marry yet, you know. That’s the point. And that business about somebody saying we were engaged, nobody actually said it. It was just another one of those things where someone says, “Are they engaged?” and they said, “Well, whatever it is… [muttering]” “Yes, folks, they’re engaged!” And it wasn’t true. MORROW: Well, I’m sure there are a lot of girls who are very happy with this. What would you look for, in a girl? Say you did eventually want to settle down, what would you want to – what kind of girl would you like? What would you – what would you like in a gal you wanted to marry eventually, bring home to Mommy? PAUL: Uh… Female hormones. MORROW: Female. What’ll you go for, any – what, blonde, brunette, what? PAUL: Uh, you know, anything. Anything. Girls. It doesn’t matter if they’re blonde, brunette, or anything, as long as they’ve got it. MORROW: Would you want a nice person – what? A beautiful nice person girl. PAUL: Yeah, you know. A nice person girl. (transcription directly from @amoralto, bold mine)

and again this one COULD just be a lil homophobic joke but idk man his tone here is very different and the fact that he says he couldn't say that on air & john says he'll get in trouble is just. interesting. it's Interesting.

5- "A 26 year old queer never to get married."

Half an hour later it was very quiet, except for a few sobs, and then we decided that we had to see him just once more. We opened the gates and walked slowly in. Someone rang the doorbell. Waited, no one came, rang again. Rang again. Paul answered. We just stood there. God what do we say? "Yes, what do you want?" he said, as if we'd just come to borrow sugar. C. ran out. Someone asked if it was tomorrow, and he said, "Tomorrow." It went quiet again. "What's this - Heartbreak Hotel? What do you think I am a 26 year old queer never to get married? Oh, stick around kids!" We just looked at each other. Oh God, Paul, what have we done now. All we wanted to do was stand there and talk awhile. What was the point in shouting at us like that? We stood there, tears falling but there was no sound. "Apple Scruffs Come to Dinner" by Andrew Bailey, 1970 (x), bold mine

again, like the last one, this one is very... i think he was absolutely being homophobic here, but it's a very telling outburst. like he's yelling this harsh enough to make these girls cry.

6- Harry Harrison's "gorgeous tan"

moving onto this wild quote from many years from now by barry miles about george's older brother (bold mine):

"George Harrison’s elder brother Harry had been to Christmas Island and arrived back with a gorgeous tan in his army uniform and we thought, My God, he’s been made a man of. You used to see this quite regularly, people would be made a man of."

7/8- gender neutral language

let's get into some interesting gender neutral language he uses. now, would this be Particularly compelling with a modern celebrity? not really. but most people his age really don't talk gender neutrally unless it's to be vague On Purpose. like this bit from many years from now, where before this he'd been using exclusively "girl" and "she/her" pronouns talking about hookups, it suddenly shifts to very purposefully vague (bold mine):

With a lot of those people I met and related to, albeit for a short time, I've mercifully forgotten them and I don't really remember what went on, thank goodness. There may have been a few drinks involved and I was a little merry and, you know, you slip back to someone's flat... My main feeling really is one of relief. You do feel like some of it was outrageous. But I'm glad to have had a slightly outrageous period in my life, as long as it didn't hurt anybody, because I'd always felt maybe my character was too careful. I think the great thing was I never had any deep, dark secrets. That's what the papers wanted. They wanted me to be hiding a little Miss Whiplash somewhere, and for the flat to be in my name. But it was never that. It was always a one-night stand with whoever was around and wanted to party.

this next one take w a grain of salt bc the source Is cited but looking it up online only brings up tumblr blogs. the source does seem to exist but i'm being so real i don't care enough to go and buy the source but if anyone wants to and wants to fact-check it have at it. bold mine:

Favourite Drink: If I could only choose one drink it would have to be water. When I’m a bit hung over that’s all I can take. But I still like a Scotch and Coke. I can’t overdo it any more. Four’s my maximum, four and I’m anybody’s. (official program booklet for The Paul McCartney World Tour (1989-90): Lifelines. (1989))

what's also interesting about this one is it's when him and linda were married, which gives some credence to the rumors that they maybe had an open relationship (men or not). it also makes me think of the "just kidding, linda" thing lmao. she can't take her husband anywhere or he's going to be fagging it up the second he gets 4 drinks in him.

9/10/11- the "binary" (ft. a bit of john)

this infamous quote from the lyrics in his section on "hello goodbye" (bold mine) (x):

I'm attracted to the binary. I state that quite casually, but I think there’s actually a lot more to it than my just saying, ‘I’m attracted to the binary.’ Once you get down to the scientific biological level, in my core, I probably am the binary. All of us are probably more binary than we might realise.

context being that when he says "the binary" he means duality. there's a lot of interesting stuff going on in this article, though there's some more john related stuff i'll add here too bc it's super fascinating (sorry, easier to go here than the john section!):

‘Hello, Goodbye’ shows off a binary that we took great advantage of in The Beatles. With regard to John Lennon and myself, the great attraction we had for each other was that we each had a bit the other didn’t have. John could be quite cynical. I was his opposite, in that respect. [...] I think there definitely was a sort of ‘hello, goodbye’ about John and myself. But we loved it. We loved it because John could contribute his caustic wit and I could contribute something more upbeat. Not always, we each did what the other one did from time to time. But if you had to break it down – and though it is a bit crude to say so – there was a binary tension at the heart of our songwriting together.

12- big guys at the gym

onto something more lighthearted and also just ridiculous (x):

"If I'm in a gym and all the big guys have got big weights and they're doing all the big stuff, at the end I do a headstand," he said. "And they come over to me [and say], 'That's pretty impressive man.'" ["78-year-old Paul McCartney’s fitness routine includes headstands and yoga with Alec Baldwin" by Cory Stieg]

13- gay dreams

this infamous quote which i have a bit of a different take on that i'll expand on in a sec (bold mine)

My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don’t call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, “Shit, am I gay?” I like that you don’t have control over it. But there is some control – it is you dreaming, it is your mind it’s all happening in. In a way my equation would be that my computer is fully loaded by now. Maybe in younger people there’s a little bit of loading to go, but mine’s loaded pretty much, so what I try and do is allow it to print out unbeknown to me. And I’m interested to hear what it’s got in there. (interview by Karen Wright for Luigi's Alcove, 2000) (x)

a lot of people use this to point to him being oblivious, which i do get, but i want to focus more on the line "it is you dreaming, it is your mind it's all happening in". like he seems interested and fascinated by the revelations we have in our dreams- hardly repressed or scared.

14- royston ellis' "break me in easy"

we've all been over the royston ellis poem and i don't want to just retype out everything that's already on this post so go check out @eppysboys' post on the royston ellis poem!

but tl;dr a bisexual friend of theirs in liverpool, royston ellis, wrote this poem called "Break Me In Easy":

Easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure I’m big time, cock-sure and brash, but easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure they’ve been others, I know the way…

which is about gay sex. he also told the boys that 1 in every 5 men was gay and paul worried that it might be him (this was back in 1960). he still remembered it line for line by 2006 which is just insane. all the sources for those are over on the linked post.

15- woody pecker

originally posted by @didwemeetsomewherebefore here (links to my blog bc the wayback machine was not cooperating right but as long as it stays up you can find the original here!)

PAUL & DONOVAN: How to suck a lollypopper, Sitting on a woodypecker, Dancing in the double-decker shoe, I don’t know, So, how do you do? PAUL: I don't know how you do it, Lordy, knows I try But every time I try to do it, My whole darn tongue gets ti(r)ed

this one is just so sillyyyyy and cute but it's just so full of innuendo like sucking on a lollypop and sitting on a woody pecker and your tongue getting tied (tired?) when you try to suck the uh lollypop. giggling his way through it with one of his boy best friends donovan too.

16- "i heard he was gay"

this fun little quote from body count by francie schwartz:

When the rotation of bike, gun, and other diversions left me alone with Billy, his first words were, "You went with Paul McCartney, didn’t you?" "I bet you just love it when people ask you about your father, don't you?" He was surprised, he half-frowned. "No, really, what's Paul like? I heard he was gay." "He might have gone that way, but he didn't. He really didn't dig fucking all that much, if that's any kind of an answer."

note here though that francie is a notoriously unreliable source on paul. she hates him and honestly makes some pretty homophobic digs at him & others pretty frequently. so it is interesting that she denies he's gay, but says he might have gone that way. given how short of a time they were together and how weird their relationship was, i wouldn't really expect him to be open about that with her- still, she noticed something there too.

17- homosexual handbook

paul was mentioned in the homosexual handbook by angelo d'arcangelo in 1968 under a list of famous homosexuals. it's very tongue in cheek and says this "may just be wishful thinking on (my) part"

and obviously not proof as the book takes a very playful and unserious tone. he does provide this little disclaimer though, which i think is interesting:

Some of the men on this list are self-acknowledged homosexuals. Some are not. All of them are generally thought to be gay. However, as many family men and notorious womanizers appear on these pages, we must—rather than question their forays into either or both sexes—congratulate them on their obvious virility.

because once again like... WHERE are these rumors about paul being gay? because the rest of this list, as far as i can tell (ngl i did not do a deep read there) are men who have/had gay rumors about them or were gay. this comes up more in the john post as well, but i seriously need to know just how many rumors there were about him being gay.

18- "the female hordes"

It was always obvious Brian was gay and we could talk to him about gay things, but he would never come out with, 'Hello, Paul, you’re looking nice today.' I was quite obviously un-gay, due to my hunting of the female hordes, and I think we all must have given the same impression. There had been a suggestion since that John had some homosexual thing with Brian, but I personally doubt it. All the intimate moments we shared were always about girls. (from Anthology)

i know putting one of his "un-gay" quotes here is counter intuitive but listen i have genuinely never heard a gayer thing come out of a man's mouth than "hunting of the female hordes" it sends me to fucking mars every time i read it. that's the most closeted shit i've ever read in my entire life. it sounds like what a gay man would say trying to come up with something a straight man would say. and i think paul's bi, he just desperately wants me to think he's never gotten pussy a day in his damn life with this quote.

as a side-note, "all the intimate moments we shared were always about girls". now what do you mean by that man..... like shared as in verbally told stories? or do you mean it was always about the girls when you guys were...... intimate? because those are two really different things and i need to know what the hell that's supposed to mean

19/20- this poor man just wants to flirt with and kiss men can we let him

okay tumblr has nerfed me and won't let me add any more videos from tumblr but there's a video of drunk paul almost kissing ringo jokingly. posted by @stewy here and as long as it's up you can reblog it here- thank u for the contribution to my red stringing lmfao

pringo for once thank god but. i don't even have anything to say except to point and think of a slur. drunk as hell flirting with your best friend what's better than that.

and then this whole interaction between paul & elton john where they kiss on the mouth

and i could so buy that this is a straight man and gay man just being comfortable together except well see above and see the other posts but also paul's very much adapting a softer, "campier" tone around him and calling him babe/darling in a very, again, gay way. not as in he's gay For elton john lmfao but this is how to old gay friends would greet each other do you see what i mean do you understand me......

anyway that's the end of part 1 join me next time (whenever the fuck i decide to avoid doing homework again um) this man has sucked a dick i'm so sure of this. (not really don't sue me for libel paul love ya)

[chiliconsharls]

So, I caved in and I did it in detail! A few days ago I posted a meme of the Charlos lore iceberg but then I had some people asking about some bits and I thought, oh, might as well make the whole masterpost. LOW AND BEHOLD, it is here; an extensive compilation of the rich Charlos lore

Below the cut because boy is this bitch long

DISCLAIMER: before we begin I must note a few things. First, this isn't a whole detailed timeline of Charles&Carlos' relationship and every single bit of their moments bc I would've genuinely gone insane, so, like with the iceberg meme, this is merely key details of their relationship that make ME particularly unwell. This is also almost 2K words long. Lastly, not all points are linked as some of them are rather quite simple to find with an easy Google search

They have the same name in different languages. (In fact, Carlos has explained that his ‘chilli’ nickname comes from the fact that a lot of his friends went from calling him ‘charlie’ to calling him ‘chilli’). Their name is of Germanic origin and it means “free man”. Charles is the French/English version of it, Carlos is the Spanish one.

Beginnings & Pre-Ferrari era (2017-2020)

“I knew you before you knew me” – Charles said he had heard about Carlos when he was coming up in racing while Carlos was competing in KF3 (2008-2009)

They were already hanging out by 2017, when Charles was still only a Ferrari academy driver – as told by a reddit user who works in the Yas Marina circuit and shared the story with a tiny Renault helmet signed by Carlos

“I said this guy’s not beating me, no fucking way” – Carlos in Drive to Survive S01E02 after his battle with Charles in the Azerbaijan GP. (Sidenote: The first episode of DTS dedicated to Charles –S01E08– also showcases a battle with Carlos briefly)

Marina Bay Sands pool story – in several instances now, they both have shared the story of their first meeting/first ‘real’ conversation back in 2018, during the race week of the Singapore GP. They both said they saw each other at the pool of Marina Bay Sands hotel (it’s still unclear whether they were inside the pool or just by), and they had dinner where they talked for a while.

Carlos’ said that that first conversation made him think Charles was a good guy but also that when he first talked to him, he seemed innocent

2018 Autosport Awards interview  – Charles is giving an interview about how his exciting new season is coming and Carlos pops in and tugs him by the ear, making as if to give him a little smooch

“Carlos! My future teammate!”

Ferrari era (paper & cotton years – 2021-2022)

Youngest Ferrari duo

Lord Perceval nickname is born – despite claims that Charles disliked the nickname Carlos gave him (as requested by Charles himself that Carlos ‘from now on, call me Lord Perceval”), Charles went on to have it as his personal tag on his cap –made for driver use only. He’s also used ‘Perceval’ as his aviator call sign when he did some training with the French Air Force.

Jenga challenge video

Fiorano music challenge – this is their core happy memory, as they have said a few times themselves

“I started to listen to some jazz in the mornings” “Jazz?”

Chess – chess is one core activity they do. They would play a lot, even online. Charles would even stop talking to Carlos when he lost sometimes, and Carlos has stated that he only plays it with Charles.

Charles’ said Carlos plays better at night, and he plays better in the morning to evening. “The flights together are probably the ones I enjoy the most (...) we will put our phones away and play chess. That’s where we have the most interesting and deep conversations and I have really, really good memories of that”

“You haven’t showered together?” “We’re not that close yet” // “I find you spontaneously funny” “Carlos doesn’t do anything but he makes me laugh” – Sky Sports game interview in 2021

Charles going to watch Carlos on the podium in Monaco – Carlos talked later in 2024 about how much it meant for him to see Charles there

“Mate! You are looking at me!”

Red porn couch debriefs videos – not much to say, tbh, Ferrari sat them in a sus red couch to shoot the debrief post-race videos. Some of them are quite something

“Come on, Charles, don’t do this!” – Carlos’ radio in Saudi Arabia ‘21

Jean Alesi calling them ‘la bella coppia’ (“the beautiful couple”) // also, Jean Alesi doing photoshop manips when Charlos fought in 2024

Carlos: “good looking couple” “we make a good couple” “most beautiful pair”

Carlos showing off his strength to Charles in that Ferrari party thing

Everything that was written in the GQ article (by Tom Lamont) as well as the photoshoot

Calling each other beautiful

Charles sharing a sandwich with Carlos

Them calling each other ‘sweetie’, ‘honey’, ‘baby’, ‘love’ // ‘like this or more, darling?’ // ‘thank you, my love’  

Bahrain 1-2

Carlos checking in on Charles before his post-race interview in Monza 22’ despite being told he had to go some other place

Ferrari era (leather & forced divorce – 2023-2024)

Football watching together (despite the fact that Charles’ said he doesn’t really follow football) // “Yes, Carlos will be really happy” – Charles after someone asked him if he watched El Clasico and Real Madrid had won that time

Paddle playing too

“Can I choose the position he needs to be in? Take off your clothes, Carlos!”

The gingerbread cookies video

“He loves me” – the whole shell challenges in Zandvoort actually

Talked about racing Le Mans

Charles being jealous of Lando

“Together or nothing. We come as a package”

Charles hiding in Carlos’ closet to surprise him for his birthday

Monza 23’ battle

The Curious Case of Charlos and Pierre Gasly’s PR accusations – During a fan forum in the Singapore GP ’23 weekend, Carlos joked that he would’ve picked Charles to be stuck with in a deserted island, saying: “You see, I would’ve picked Charles, Esteban, I like my teammate” (because Esteban had been asked the same question just before and upon being told he wasn’t allowed to pick his own teammate, Esteban jokingly went: “I wasn’t going to pick Pierre anyway”).

Pierre and Esteban Ocon had a rocky relationship as teammates in Alpine, on top of having an already complicated past together since they’ve known each other since they were kids. Nearing the end of 2023 season, after Pierre (and Esteban) had been criticized for their poor relationship, Pierre talked about friendships in the paddock in an interview and he name-dropped Carlos and Charles, claiming that people “shouldn’t think that they’re all friends”. Despite Pierre having also named Mercedes and Red Bull pairs, people seemed to only latch onto Charlos

It’s important to note that Pierre Gasly is the driver Charles is famously closest to in the whole grid (as they’ve been friends since childhood) but also, he was teammates with Carlos in Toro Rosso for two races in 2017, and is fairly one of the drivers that are close-ish to Carlos as well. In fact, Pierre sometimes hangs with both of them, too.

Puma couch picture we never got the context of

Fred: “are you still single?” Carlos: *looks at Charles* “anyway, changing subject…” – DTS S06E08 // (Sidenote: theres some joking that Charles’ current girlfriend, Alexandra Saint Mleux, and Carlos’ current girlfriend, Rebecca Donaldson, seem to have a slight resemblance to Carlos and Charles, respectively (and the girls also seem to get along quite well))

New York event

Charles timing Carlos’ laps

“I want to give this to you, so you remember me for the rest of your life. For our post teammate era” // “You’re going to leave it there” “No, I won’t" – Carlos gifting him a chili plushie.

“Tell Charles to come close to me and we celebrate this one together” – Australia 24’

China Sprint 24’ incident: “He’s fighting me harder than the rest” // “A kiss on the mouth, everything okay”

Spanish reporter calling them roommates

Insane sim racing videos (almost all of them have some degree of craziness but specially Saudi Arabia, Austria, Dutch, Monza, COTA, Brazil)

Both of them thinking about their morning wood live on camera… then Carlos knowing Charles’ a sleepy guy

Miami merch promo video being cut just right as Carlos seems to go for Charles’ face

“We go from hating each other to loving each other real quick” – actually, that whole motorsport interview for Miami was awesome

Spain 24' inchident - Charles: “He was trying to do something extraordinary because it’s his home race and important moment in his career” // Carlos: “It’s too many times he complains about something”

“Charles and I have one or two ding-dongs a year”

“We look at each other and we smiled like we’re used to” // “We look at each other in the eyes and we understand immediately”

Gladiator II premiere

“Complicate me. Complicate my life, like you always do”

Charles letting Carlos drive his Ferrari in Monaco and show Carlos Sr

“I wanna smash you”

Carlos grabbing Charles’ balls in Mexico 24’

“You should try the chilli crab … I am the chilli crab”

“Try in Spanish” – Charles post Vegas 24’

“Carlos is not my girlfriend, I’m not gonna miss him like crazy”

“I would listen to you for hours”

Abu Dhabi 24’ radio: “it hurts a lot… I really wish we could’ve won it also for the last season with Carlos”

Charles goodbye to Carlos: “Now, I can call him a friend outside of racing” // Charles calling him 'chilli' in IG post (Carlos' said his personal friends call him chilli)

“I wouldn’t be the driver I am today if he hadn’t been my teammate”

“I was happy with Charles. I would’ve continued with Leclerc for life”

“Amazing four years fighting for Ferrari” — Carlos on IG

Fred: “I have never in all my time of racing seen two teammates so intensely preoccupied with what the other one is doing”

Charles being in Fiorano for Carlos’ last farewell with his father driving a Formula 1

Timeless traditions/Uncategorized info

Starting almost all videos with: “Helloooo” “hola”

“Are you ready?” “I’m always ready, Carlos”

Zero concept of personal space

Charles often looks smaller than Carlos despite actually being taller

Hand size difference

Yapper & Yapper

Carlos’ love language is physical violence

Carlos –a self-proclaimed butt guy— often taps Charles’ butt

They had 9 podiums and three 1-2s

They had 90 races together and never crashed

They’re each other’s longest teammates as of date

[always1star]

the time we were together

toxic!sukuna x fem!reader (although can be read as gn?)

tags: angst, college au, cursing, arguments, use of y/n, alludes to sex (but nothing explicit, i dont write smut), cheating, yearning, closure, happiest ending i could make tbh, no part 2 im sorry

a/n: i didn't mean to write this but for some reason it just happened so enjoy my first fic lol. also this is NOT PROOFREAD

WC: 2.7k

You and Sukuna have been going out for some time now, maybe about five months. You met him at some random frat party. You had just been broken up with by your boyfriend of two years, and so you went to a party and took anything and everything anyone gave you. You were feeling super sick and all you really wanted was solace. After a while of sulking in the corner of this random disgusting frat house, you decided it was time to go home, as at this point you were high and drunk completely out of your mind. You gathered your things and attempted to stumble your way to some kind of exit. On your way out, you accidentally ran into this huge hunk of a man with bold tattoos. You started sobbing when he caught you, tears staining and fists clenching his shirt. He was absolutely bewildered and as people had begun to stare, he grudgingly took you home. After that night, you kept running into this random man you sobbed to on campus, and the rest was history. 

Although you and Sukuna have been going relatively steady for a while, you had hit a point in your relationship in which all you did was argue. And it is generally understood that after the honeymoon stage everyone often disputes with their partners, but Sukuna was terribly vicious. He often brought up how insecure you were, how it was your fault you were raised the way you were, how easily he could replace you. To say the least, Sukuna was an ass. He damaged your core like no one else could and it desperately hurt you to be with him. Still, you stayed by his side because you loved him, and hoped he felt the same way. You hoped because he would hold you as you cried, kissing away your tears, and whispering how sorry he was. You always forgave him, even if he did it time and time again. 

During the first stages of your relationship, Sukuna welcomed your presence. You two hung out often, and although not ordinary dates (he often took you to race on his motorcycle or would take you to sketchy parties), you had fun and were happy because he was there with you. Sukuna never was really into speaking reassuring or affirming words, but instead showed his affection with his actions. His hands would always be roaming your body, and you liked feeling the warmth of another person. He did things without you asking, like buying something you mentioned you liked or holding you even when you swore you were ok. While you smiled brightly and thanked him, he would just grumble “it’s whatever.” You would always laugh and giggle with him, and even though he never really laughed back himself, he entertained it. Sometimes you would catch him staring, and there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite name. There was no doubt that he held a sentiment of adoration for you, maybe he even loved you. But now? His eyes only seemed to hold disappointment, anger, and annoyance. 

You had known from the second you met him that it would not be easy to be with him. He’s got a difficult, harsh, and cruel demeanor. You had hoped that maybe he wasn’t really like that, and that maybe he just had this bad-boy delinquent front to cover his vulnerabilities. Well, you were right, to say the least. But is the Ryomen Sukuna really going to be vulnerable around you, some random girl he met a few months ago that he just likes to use as a bed warmer? Hell no. You meant absolutely nothing to him and he couldn’t seem to get that message through your head. All this time, you thought that maybe he was just being difficult but that didn’t change the fact that he still maybe held a passion for you. 

One night, a particularly bad argument came up. It started as something that was completely meaningless. Him coming home a little late, you telling him you were too busy to cook dinner and that tonight you guys should just go get takeout, him mumbling that he was too tired to go out and that it’s nothing you can’t do on your own because you were a big girl and could handle these things. You apologized but said you, too, were too tired, and therefore did not want to cook. Sukuna’s temper just kind of blew up. “Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t even do this one little thing? You aren’t fucking helpless, Y/N. I’ve spent all day studying and working for you, and how dare you still expect more shit from me? Haven’t I given you fucking enough?” He threw his hands up in irritance, shouting at you, the previous exhaustion in his voice seemingly gone. “I’m sorry, I was just busy tod-” you tried to reason, but he quickly interrupted. “Busy? You were fucking busy? How the hell do you think I feel, huh?” He was walking towards you, and you were being backed into the kitchen counter. “Are you useless? No! You can’t even do small shit like this. How unloveable can you possibly be?” He continued to ramble and yell into your face, but you stopped listening. You rapidly tried to blink your tears away and to calm your shaky hands. Did he really just say that? You’re unloveable?

Eventually, Sukuna left the apartment with nothing but his coat and his car keys, mumbling something about how this is fucking unbelieveable under his breath as he slammed the front door shut. Your ears were ringing due to the newfound silence, the only thing being heard was your staggered breathing. 

A couple of days later, Sukuna still had not returned to your apartment. You assumed he had gone back to his. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other in two days, and you were becoming restless. You had to apologize to him, whether you were at fault or not. You texted him you were on your way as you started your car. You noted that as you were on your way, he never replied to your message. You approached his front door and rummaged through your purse to find the spare key to his apartment. As you unlocked the door, you took a deep breath in and recited your apology in your head. 

When you opened the door, the apartment was relatively cleaner than it usually was, save for the clothes littering the floor. Your brows furrowed as you noted a pink camisole and bra on the floor. Those definitely weren’t yours. Your heart was rapidly thumping, the sound filling your ears. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and stormed off to find Sukuna.

You burst through his bedroom door to see a naked Sukuna and some girl you’ve never seen before. You watched as her eyes widened and as she scrambled to find some way to cover herself. She ran out the door past you. You were still standing in the doorway, frozen in shock. You held your mouth slightly agape, unsure of what to say or do next. Unperturbed, Sukuna sighed as got up from the bed to find his shorts somewhere on the floor. He ran his hand through his sweaty, almost drenched hair. Wasn’t he being way too casual about this? You found the strength in yourself to speak up. “How could you do this to me?” you weakly spoke, sounding as fragile as your now shattered heart. Sukuna put on his shorts and looked at you without shame, an agitated look painting his face. “I don’t owe you an explanation.” He continued to find his shirt. “What? We’re dating Sukuna. You can’t just-” you stammered, and he stopped you right there. “I’m not your boyfriend and you’re not my girlfriend,” he articulated every word like it was the most obvious thing ever. Your heart dropped. “And clearly, you didn’t think that. I liked what we had, Y/N. But if you’re going to be all possessive like this, then we should end things.” What was he saying? “What? Suku-” He deeply sighed and his voice began to rise. “Get out! Don’t make me say it again.”

Ryomen Sukuna had broken your heart. Really, he stole it from your chest and smiled at you as he crushed it in his hands. The next week after the “break up” for you was absolutely terrible. You skipped all of your classes, meals, and sleep. You just wallowed in bed, wondering what could possibly make you so unloveable. To think that he never really loved you – wait, did he really never love you at all? You recalled that you never said I love you. Those three words held a heavy weight, but you were thinking about how you didn’t need to say it to prove your devotion to him. It kinda made sense now. You should have never assumed your place in a man’s heart who didn’t have room for anyone, let alone you.

--------------------------------

Five months later…

Sukuna found it nice to be freely sleeping around again, finding himself at parties, clubs, bars, always having a girl on his side. Sukuna always woke up next to a new girl every morning (girls he never remembers the names of), quickly kicking her out so he didn’t have to deal with whatever she thought was between them. He would go on late night rides with his friends (that you never really liked) and would come home to drink a cold beer wearing only his boxers. Life was good to him.

But as Sukuna came home one night after a thrilling night out, he thought it just wasn’t as fun as it used to be. He plopped down on the couch and cracked open a beer and turned on his TV. Still, he felt something was missing. Maybe he missed the thrill of making it home and spewing lies to the girl in his bed. Maybe he missed the heated arguments and sorry's just to repeat the cycle. . Maybe he missed coming home to a home-cooked meal. Maybe he missed the warmth of another person. Maybe he missed hearing a certain voice. Maybe he missed waking up to a familiar face. Maybe, he missed you. Wait, what? That’s not true. He shook the thought away, thinking that he just missed having authority over someone. 

He was obviously lying to himself. Sukuna wondered what could fill this odd feeling in his heart. It was evident that the sex, drugs, and alcohol was no longer doing its part for him. He stopped going out and now spent his time in silence and solitude. He began to think about you, and he wondered what you were doing. He wondered how you would react if you saw him again. He wondered what you did after you lost contact with him. He wondered what you looked like now, if you were just as beautiful.

He needed to find you, whether it was for the closure for his flaming conscience or that needed to know if you still felt the same in his arms, he didn’t know. What was he feeling bad for now? Sukuna was never one to have genuine apologies or have feelings of guilt in shame. What was it about you that made him feel this way? Sukuna wanted – no, needed to put a label on this aching feeling, and then throw it out. 

It was a new semester, and Sukuna hadn’t seen you around campus. He realized that he still really wanted to see you, but he knew you wouldn’t react well. He didn’t care too much though, he just wanted to fix whatever was wrong with him. 

One day, Sukuna saw you on campus in the courtyard that was in front of one of your major’s buildings. You looked the happiest he had ever seen you. A smile was plastered on your face as you laughed with some friends. The same smile that he struck off your face. Sukuna used to think he liked your crying face more than anything, he thought your stupid smile was childish, but now he thought you looked so beautiful smiling. He silently watched you, something holding him back from approaching you.

Sukuna often spotted you in front of your building, and he longed to talk to you again. If he was watching you so often, of course you were going to see him too. One day, you spotted him. He tried to play it off by clearing his throat and looking away, but when he looked at you again, you smiled. You… smiled? Even after all the humiliation and suffering he put you through, you smiled at him. You seemed to wave off to your friends and began to speed walk to him. He panicked a little.

“It’s nice to see you again! I hope you’re doing well,” you greeted and waved to him. It hurt him to see that you were still kind and genuine even after all that he did to you. “Hi, um… it’s nice to see you too… How are you doing?” he awkwardly replied. Sukuna was always one to hold pride and confidence, but upon seeing you he seemed to lose all of it. “I’m really good! This semester is kind of kicking my ass but I’m still trying to stay positive, haha,” you beamed. He nodded once as a reply and a silence enveloped the both of you. He stared at you, and you really did look happy. He sighed and spoke up, “Y/N, I never really got the chance to say sorry. I know that I have done so much wrong to you, but please, can you forgive me? I feel like what I did to you is burning a hole through my heart, and I just can’t bear to think that I could do that to someone as pure as you,” Sukuna began to beg. It was odd to see a guy who never bent down to anyone, who put himself on a pedestal ranging miles higher than anyone else, beg. 

You thought for a second, taking in the unfamiliar sorrow gracing his strong features. You eventually spoke, “Sukuna, I loved you, did you know that?” His eyes slightly widened and he nodded slowly. You continued, “The whole time I was with you, I wasn’t sure if you loved me too. It hurts to be around you.” He nodded again, breaking eye contact to stare at his shoes. “I can’t quite forgive you for what you did to me, but I want you to know that if you find your happiness, then I will always be cheering you on for it. Don’t mess up next time.” Although your words held the heaviness of your feelings, you still smiled at him. Sukuna felt a throbbing in his chest. God, what did he do to you? What had he done? He desperately wanted to say, “my happiness is with you” but he felt that he didn’t have the right to. Sukuna felt tears in his eyes, all an unfamiliar feeling to him. He nodded once again to you, whispering a thank you. Not because you were offering your understanding, but because he wanted to thank you for being there for him, even when he couldn’t be there for you. Sukuna went off apologizing once again, clenching his fists to resist reaching out and hugging you. And, as if you read his mind, you quickly pulled him into your embrace. The two of you held each other, tearing brimming your eyes. The feeling of closure the two of you longed for was gained, and for a second all the resentment and pain was let go of, all that was left was love and understanding for each other. 

Sukuna watched you from afar sometimes. He had been hearing around that you were in a relationship… good for you. He hoped that whoever that weird tall white guy haired guy you were dating was, was treating you with all the love and respect that you deserve, all the love and respect that he couldn’t give you. And as he watched you laugh with some guy that wasn’t him, smiling ear to ear, he realized that happiness looked so good on you. To pay his repentance and to pay his final act of love to you, he gave a small somber smile at your radiating face for the last time, and turned around and walked away, now truly realizing the weight of his mistakes.

[boilingcoldtea]

I had a started-questioning character. the story was tagged "asexual character", but I didn't pay much attention to it (cause well alright, and I initially came for the plot so good for me), untill

✨he had awesome, close and heartwarming relationships with his friends and a cute platonic situationship – without any awkwardness on any part (and joked about how people always assume close means involved)

✨he was asked for a relationship advice because his friendly attitude was interpreted as being good with girls

✨so he tried to explain that he can see how some people are attractive and beautiful, but he just has no desire to have romantic or sexual relationship, and has never felt this way about anyone. and that he loves his friends, his family and his cat, so he's not some sociopath, he's just that way

and I went "hah, I really understand what he's talking about. guess, the author is that good at conveying feelings"

(they are, but also I'm aroace as I figured half a year after reading the thing)

also it has way more than one ace character, and all kinds of familial dynamics, thruples and omg it's just so deliciously queer

ive heard people say things like "this character was my gay/bi/lesbian awakening, etc etc" (both irl and online)

but like. what about characters being an aroace awakening?

you know when theres that one character who everyone thinks is hot, or that character who the entire fandom simps for, and you just think "wow, does everyone feel this way about them except me?" and then BOOM you realize that youre aroace

[aventurineswife]

“To be loved is to be known”

Summary: When you call Aventurine by his true name, Kakavasha, with love and affection, it shatters the walls he’s built around himself. As he breaks down, overwhelmed by his past trauma and survivor’s guilt, you help him heal and discover the possibility of being truly loved. Through patience and support, Kakavasha learns to love and be loved in return, though the journey is filled with emotional struggles and slow-burning trust.

Tags: @bunni-v1(thank you for feeding the Aventurine fandom🙏💛💚), Aventurine x Reader, Angst, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Healing, Survivor’s Guilt, Manipulation/Control, Love & Vulnerability, First Love/Relationship, Patience, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Emotional Trauma, References to Past Abuse and Slavery, Mental Health Struggles (survivor's guilt, emotional breakdown), Explicit mentions of Grief and Loss, Heavy Themes of Self-worth and Identity.

A/N: this was much better in my head... 🧍‍♀️

[Inspired by]

The dim light of Aventurine's private quarters cast an amber glow over the room, reflecting off the myriad of trinkets and luxurious odds and ends that adorned the shelves. He lounged in his chair as always, legs crossed, head tilted, a half-empty glass of brandy in his hand. The smile that graced his lips was one you knew well—practiced, confident, and sharp. A mask.

“You’ve been unusually quiet tonight, darling,” he said, his voice lilting with feigned amusement. “Planning something, or is the weight of my brilliance just too much to handle?”

You folded your arms, standing in the center of the room. “Kakavasha.”

The sound of his real name stopped him mid-sip. The glass hovered inches from his lips, his eyes narrowing like a predator caught off guard. The room seemed to still, the silence so heavy it was deafening.

“What did you just say?” he asked, his tone sharper now, defensive.

“Kakavasha,” you repeated, softer this time, stepping closer to him. “Your name. Not Aventurine. Not the persona you wear for the world. I’m speaking to you—the person behind all of this.”

His smile wavered, a crack forming in the facade. For a moment, he looked at you as if you’d struck him, as though hearing that name from your lips was a wound he hadn’t prepared to guard against.

“Don’t,” he whispered, setting his glass down with a trembling hand. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it means something,” he hissed, standing abruptly. His movements were quick, defensive, his hands curling into fists. “That name—that name belongs to someone who should’ve died years ago.”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t step back. Instead, you moved closer, your hands reaching out to gently touch his face. He recoiled slightly at first, but you persisted, cupping his cheeks with a tenderness that shattered whatever defenses he had left.

“Kakavasha,” you said again, and this time, it broke him.

A sob tore through him before he could stop it, raw and guttural. He sank to his knees, his arms wrapping around your waist as if holding on for dear life. His head pressed against your stomach, and his body shook with the force of his crying.

“I—I can’t,” he choked out, the words barely audible between sobs. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

You knelt down, your hands cradling his face as you forced him to look at you. Tears streaked down his cheeks, and his eyes were wide, glassy, and vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.

“Listen to me,” you said firmly, though your voice was laced with emotion. “You are Kakavasha. You are not the sum of your mistakes, and you are not the monster you think you are. You’re a person—a person who has been through hell and back, but you are not unworthy of love.”

He shook his head, more tears spilling over. “I don’t know how to—”

“You don’t have to know,” you interrupted, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You just have to let me love you. That’s all.”

His sobs quieted as your words sank in, his breathing ragged but slowing. You kissed his cheeks, his nose, his lips, each kiss gentle and patient, as though you were mending the broken pieces of him with your touch.

For a long while, he simply stayed there, his head resting against your chest as you held him. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

“I didn’t think… I didn’t think it was possible to feel like this.”

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You deserve this, Kakavasha. You deserve to be happy.”

The name lingered in the air, not as a weight but as a promise. Kakavasha—the man who had survived the desert, the betrayals, and the crushing loneliness—was still here. And for the first time, he allowed himself to believe that he could be loved.

The road to healing wasn’t easy. Aventurine—no, Kakavasha—was a man accustomed to wearing masks, to hiding behind his sharp wit and dazzling charisma. There were nights when his fears got the better of him, when he pulled away, scared of the vulnerability that came with being loved.

But you were patient.

You were there to steady him when he stumbled, to remind him that he didn’t have to face his demons alone. Slowly, he began to open up, sharing pieces of himself that he had long buried. His laughter became more genuine, his smiles less calculated.

And one day, as he watched you reading on the couch, bathed in the golden glow of the evening light, he realized that he no longer feared losing you. Instead, he felt a quiet determination—a promise to himself that he would protect this love with everything he had.

Because for the first time in his life, Kakavasha understood what it meant to be truly alive.

[demonic0angel]

Ok! Spoiler warning ship. Where Wes explains why he hates Danny. No one will believe him that fenton is phantom.

Steph looks him dead in the eye, takes a deep breath. Then explains to him in a dead serious tone how stupid and dangerous that is, not only to the hero, but him and everyone else too.

(It's funny that you ask me this. Just wait for tomorrow lmaooo)

"I know that. I was fourteen." Wes crossed his arms and looked away, glaring at nothing. "It doesn't mean that I can't hate Phantom."

Steph raised a finger and opened her mouth, ready to defend Phantom when she paused and reconsidered. Then she asked, "If you know that it was dangerous, why do you still hate him? Did he do something to you?"

"Yes!" Wes spat. "Even though I was fourteen and stupid, you know what he would do? He would transform in front of me and gloat that no one believed me! Like, I get that he had a secret identity but he laughed in my face because he thought it was funny that everyone thought I was lying! Not even my family— my brothers believed me! I was called 'the Crazy Weston' for years in high school!"

Steph pursed her lips. As a vigilante, she understood the importance of secret identities and Wes had almost purposefully endangered the lives of others by trying to reveal Phantom's. But it was true that Wes had only been fourteen when he found out, and Danny had no right to tease him when he should've just explained properly.

"... okay, I get that." She scooted over to press against him. Wes didn't react, still looking irritated. Steph continued, "But aren't you two friends now? I guess I find it weird that you still hate him after so long, especially when you guys help each other so much."

"I don't really care about Phantom. Danny is just an asshole," Wes growled.

Steph did not voice the fact that Wes could also occasionally be an asshole.

Wes must've noticed because he went silent and then he said, "But we're fine now or whatever. I have blackmail on him that I can use and he lets me do it. I'll protect him because he's a hero from my world and because he's our King, but I don't care if I'm rude or not. He owes me for those years of hell in high school."

Stephanie shrugged and then smiled, pressing herself against him again. "Well, it's not like I can say anything about your relationship with him. I just wanted to make sure you know about the importance of secret identities."

"I don't want to hear that from you, Miss Spoiler," Wes said, rolling his eyes but he uncurled his arms and then wrapped one around her, pulling her closer to kiss her hair.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, just cuddling and enjoying each other's presence. Learning something new about each other was always fascinating. Steph suddenly sighed.

"Y'know, I don't know how I didn't realize before, but you're really petty."

"Excuse me? I'll have you know that I—"

Wes began to rant and Steph couldn't help but laugh at his indignation. In the end, he attacked her with angry kisses until she was shrieking with laughter.

Her boyfriend may be petty and vindictive, but at the very least, he was all hers.

(Note: I actually love how the fandom characterize Wes and I especially LOVE how hostile Wes can be. People don't seem to realize that they created the perfect character to be a villain bc let's not forget that since Kyle Weston is headcanoned to be Jazz's age, Wes is in the perfect position to threaten Danny's loved ones, especially with how Danny seems to tease him a lot (which is probably infuriating). I imagine that Wes and Danny have a frenemy relationship (that is a little one-sided), but they will help each other if need to be. Imo, with how the phandom characterizes them both interacting, they are BOTH in the wrong.)

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader who has never dated anyone before the Dateables

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

Romance Anon: You're welcome! I missed you too 🩷 I'm glad you enjoyed writing it because I enjoyed reading it 🤭Did you get a request? It's headcanons for Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon react to shy gn s/o telling him how they never dated anyone before him. Thanks!

A/N: I'm not entirely convinced with Simeon's part, so perhaps I'll edit it in the future

.

Diavolo

Since trust is a steady pillar in every healthy relationship, what truly cements the fact that you two belong together is, for him, that no one else in all the realms knows you better than he does. Add that to how fascinating he finds you and you will soon see yourself uncovering more layers than you thought you had.

However, he isn’t exactly sure if the subject of exes is one he enjoys to the fullest.

It was well after classes had ended that the conversation took place, nearly the end of the year and both enjoying each other’s company in the empty council’s room, and you were discussing how different it would be to experience RAD’s holiday festivities as a couple, having gone from strangers to friends to lovers. The topic of expectations was unavoidable.

Diavolo, who was raised sheltered, has minimal experience and believes that experimenting and deciding what you both like together is the best course to follow.

Would PDA be okay when you're surrounded by all the other students? If so, at what levels? Would you rather stay with him from the beginning or would it be better to spend time with the brothers and the rest of your friends to enjoy the celebrations before leaving the group for some quality time together?

Of course, the idea of you having expertise on the matter with a potential ex-lover doesn’t exactly bother him; you are desirable and attractive, so it would’ve been completely normal.

As long as you’re happy with him, he will thank whatever came before for putting you in his path.

But… what? Did he hear correctly?

You’ve never had a partner before him?

Diavolo was obviously surprised at the confession and, almost immediately after, also honoured and flattered. How could he not, when his beloved chose him above everyone they had ever met before?

This doesn’t change his perspective on you or your relationship, though.

Since he was already planning on being your last partner, being your first as well doesn’t make that much of a difference.

Barbatos

There’s a lot to unpack with this demon. From his past to his private life and his truest, sincerest feelings about life around him, everything is covered with calculated precision.

Since he is not in complete control of his life (not that he resents serving Diavolo; on the contrary), keeping so much of himself hidden helps him feel at ease. More secure about his moves and at a higher position.

You may ask to satisfy your curiosity, of course. You’re his beloved partner, someone who he wouldn’t date if he didn’t trust; but that doesn’t mean he’ll tell you the whole reality at once. He likes giving you breadcrumbs for you to create theories and, if you amuse him enough with them, he’ll also grant you little head nods and shakes that could help you put together the truth.

Having your whole attention and obvious excitement focused on him makes his heart beat a tad faster.

On the other hand, you are as open as a book. Blame it on your shyness and the stuttering that betrays you when you try to be all mysterious and suave.

And also, Barbatos is highly perceptive.

He already suspected from the early stages of your relationship that he is the first romantic partner you’ve ever had, so your eventual confession on the matter doesn’t change anything; neither your relationship nor his opinion of your persona. 

It doesn’t matter that the sole reason he’s the best… man you’ve dated in your life is because he is the only one.

What’s most important is that he sets the bar so high that you don’t even think about the possibility of ever being someone else; not before him and certainly never after him.

Solomon

Discussing this topic with him might get a bit intimidating. Not because of how he could react, but rather… You know… seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines? Sure, most of them were probably purely political arrangements, but it was still quite the harem.

He calls himself ridiculous on the matter just to make you feel better.

And also because it is ridiculous, but that’s beside the point.

He is immortal, famous for his search for knowledge, his consequential wisdom and his overall vast experience. Thinking he’s had partners before you (some of them not necessarily human) is the logical thing to do. You’re not even his first apprentice either!

However, receiving your affection might’ve been the best thing that has happened to him in the last couple of centuries, something he makes you aware of quite often, so worrying about his romantic history is pointless; there’s no need.

He loves you now and will do forever, even if things go wrong and you don’t let him anymore.

By the time you’re comfortable enough to tell him your harmless secret, not only does he see right through you, but he will also act like he doesn’t.

He’s sitting by his desk in his laboratory and you’re standing right behind him, arms around his neck while your hands mindlessly play with the golden tassels of his cape. You try to act nonchalant when you force the words out.

“Did you know you’re my first boyfriend? I mean, not boyfriend, just my first- you know, my first. Partner. Ever”

“You don’t say? I would’ve never guessed, MC”

You let out an offended gasp, but he can only laugh at it.

Your embarrassment is cute and he wants to see more of it. After all, it wouldn’t be your relationship without a bit of teasing.

Simeon

The way he loves you is so natural and genuine that it makes you feel like you've been together since the beginning of time. You kind of forget this is your first relationship and thinking about your lack of experience simply does not happen anymore; it's a potential insecurity that eradicates itself rather quickly.

.

Of course, the fact that this is also his first relationship helps a ton.

Despite being one of the oldest amongst all your friends, he's the one with least experience. It isn't something he has actively searched for, Simeon is not opposed to romance and love, but family has been (and continues to be) a major plot point in his life.

He has raised and trained other angels, fought and lost his own brothers and poured his heart and soul in a series of books that gained more fame and recognition than one could possibly believe.

While a potential partner was always something he could've had, his interest on the matter was never there.

However, Simeon has never known anyone like you before and probably never will ever again. Meeting you felt like fate and, when the time came, giving your relationship a shot was the natural step to follow.

You're an old married couple, except there's no bickering.

Whether you are someone with more or less experience than him regarding romance is not something he thinks about too much. Each relationship is different and he is more than thrilled to experience and discover what works for you both.

Simeon loves and prioritizes you just as much; being your first isn't something extremely meaningful, just a reminder that your story together starts at the same point.

And that's exactly what he tells you the moment you comment on the topic.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[doveywovy]

modern au where izuna is in a tragic accident and it puts him in a coma and tobirama is like sweet, a way to practice friendship. because tobirama has absolutely zero friends except his brother, who's been pissed at him for over a year. so- he needs the practice.

so every day he goes in to visit and he changes out the flowers at izunas bedside and fixes the sheets and updates him in what's been happening while he's in the coma. with all the tact he has, which is very little.

tobirama: hello izuna. class went well today. you would've liked the chemistry lesson. your cousin hikaku broke down crying behind the school because he misses you. your other cousin obito called me a slur when he noticed i saw this and then he chased me down and shoved my head into a toilet. the cafeteria was serving cold rice again at lunch. this concludes my report. get well soon.

what tobirama is unaware of is that this is the kind of coma that izuna is actually largely aware of whats happening around him, he just can't respond or move in any way. so he knows about tobiramas daily visits and updates and weird attempts at friendship. (tobirama's consistant reports on class lessons actually means when he wakes up, he doesn't need to do too much to catch up on work.)

so when izuna finally wakes up, he decides to do his own crazy move- to lie that they've always been friends, actually. best friends. joined at the hip practically. tobirama assumes this is some kind of brain damage situation but gleefully takes the opportunity to have a friend. izuna uses the justification of them being lifelong friends to violate a number of boundaries and behave in completely inappropriate ways.

madara also assumes this is some kind of brain damage consequence and considers tobirama an evil blight on his brother's life that must be vanquished. he keeps desperately trying to prove that they didn't get along before izuna's coma, but izuna just keeps making up loopholes and excuses to disprove his evidence.

eventually izuna tearfully confesses that madara is right, there's no physical proof of their lifelong friendship....because he himself destroyed it all! he and tobirama were/are actually boyfriends, see, but he was so worried that his brother would be homophobic about it that he never kept proof of their relationship! his close call with death has made him realize the importance of treasuring the time he has with tobirama, even if.... (loud sob) even if madara is being even MORE homophobic about this than he had once feared.....(Sob)

madara: oh. uh. i. uh

hashirama: madara.....how could you.....

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Lean On Me

modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: minor emergency room situation, injury, fluffy x100, allusions to smut, a lil more coach!steve harrington

author's note: definitely did not write this one clocked in at my desk…i just can’t stay away from these guys.  this is not proofread so please be gentle if there are any mistakes :) also, i’m no medical professional so i’m not exactly sure if this is how one would treat a bruised foot…just go with it. ALSO!!! I had to give our art teacher a last name, and the polls chose 'Ms. Heart.' cute right?

please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!

word count: 3.9k

Ms. Heart🎨: The kids are saying they saw Coach Harrington carrying you out to the parking lot…tell me they’re kidding

Mr. Munson🎸: “Carrying” is an exaggeration…

You see the “Incoming FaceTime Call” notification pop up on the screen of your phone and hurry to shut your classroom door.  Even though it’s nearing the end of the day, and this is technically your planning period, sometimes kids still like to come in and hang out in your classroom.  You had a feeling that Eddie wouldn’t want any students around to hear this call though.

Your anxiety is momentarily forgotten when you see his handsome face on your screen after answering the FaceTime call.  Even after almost three weeks of knowing him, it still surprises you how gorgeous the man is.  You’re focused on the curve of his sexy grin, but you can't help but notice the subtle winces peaking through it.   You can tell he’s in the passenger seat of a truck, Steve’s truck you’re guessing, and your theory is confirmed when the man in question grabs the phone from Eddie’s hands and puts it up to his face.

“Well hello there Ms. Art Teacher!  You’ll never guess what your guy got himself into now–wait a second,” he turns to look at Eddie with an appalled expression ,”Why is your lady’s name in your phone ‘Ms. Heart’?” 

Eddie snatches his phone back from Steve’s hands and can barely hear the sound of you laughing from the other end.  You and him both know that you put your names in each other's phones as your ‘teacher names,’ just in case someone were to see a notification and get suspicious.  You still have yet to go public with your new relationship, and Eddie is counting down the days until he can let everyone know you’re his girl.

“Will you stop calling her ‘my lady’? You sound like a douche.”

Steve lets out a triumphant laugh. “Yeah, right.  This douche is getting laid on the regular pal.  I’ll hear your opinions on my vocabulary when you can say the same.”

Eddie looks back at your face on his screen, noticing how you’re blushing at Steve’s words.  He throws you a wink, just to see your reaction, and he isn’t disappointed.  You turn even redder and throw your free hand over your face to cover your smile.  

Steve’s words don’t bother you exactly, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been devoting a lot of time to thinking about whether or not Eddie cares that the two of you haven’t slept together yet.  It’s not that you don’t want to, of course you want to.  You’ve been wanting to climb that man like a tree since the moment he first spoke to you at orientation.  There just hasn’t been time to even approach that topic with the school year starting and the craziness of it all.  

You and Eddie are smiling bashfully at each other through the screen when he grunts in pain.  The phone shakes at the same time, and you remember that Steve is driving Eddie somewhere.

“Fuck, man.  Can you try not to drive into every pothole you see?”

Steve scoffs, “Yeah sure.  Lemme just swerve around them and into all the other cars on the road.  Then we’d both be injured.”

Both? Both? Meaning one of them already is?

“Eddie?” you ask.  He can tell by the sound of the question that you're on the verge of panic, so he smiles at you through the screen.

“Yes, sweet girl?”  You can hear Steve’s fake gag in the background at Eddie’s use of the pet name for you, but it doesn’t stop the lovesick smile from trying to make its way onto your lips.

Eddie finds it particularly entertaining to try out all the different pet names on you to see which ones will make you blush the hardest.  He says he keeps an Excel spreadsheet so he can track the data…but you’re pretty sure he’s lying.  Okay, maybe 75% sure.

You point a finger at him sternly. “Quit trying to distract me.  Tell me what’s going on please.”  Eddie would have to be a fool to resist your sweet request, so he gives in. 

“There may have been a little incident while I was putting away equipment after 6th period…”

Steve guffaws, “Yeah, I’ll say.  Your man dropped a 40 pound speaker on his foot!”  Eddie’s hand slaps to his forehead with a groan, he had planned on breaking the news a little gentler to you, and perhaps in a way that didn’t make him look like a total idiot.

Your mouth drops in horror, “What?”

Eddie instantly jumps into trying to calm you down, “Honey, it’s really not that bad–”

“–I heard a crunch!”

“Steve!  Please.”

You take a deep, grounding breath.  “Eddie, just talk please.”

Eddie reaches over to smack Steve before speaking.  “Steve was in my classroom because we were planning on moving a couple speakers out to the fields for the game tonight.  The one I was carrying slipped and landed a little bit on my foot, that’s all.”  He tries his best to speak calmly to keep you from panicking, but it’s hard to ignore the throbbing pain in his right foot.  

“Eddie!  Are you okay?  How bad does it hurt?”  You wish you were with him instead of pacing around in your empty classroom. 

“I can barely feel it sweetheart, I’d rate it a three out of ten.”

Steve scoffs loudly, “Okay buddy, that’s not what it sounded like when I was carrying your ass out of school.”

Eddie turns to fix Steve with a glare, “I still had one foot on the ground, dude.  You were not carrying me.”  He turns back to look at your face through the screen, “He wasn’t carrying me.”  

You hear Steve laughing off screen and Eddie rolls his eyes.  You can’t help but to laugh a little too at the absurdity of it all.  “Where are you heading to?”

“We’re going to the ER.  Personally, I think that’s a little dramatic, but mama bear over here…”

Steve passionately chimes in, “It’s important to treat every injury with the same level of seriousness, even the minor ones!” 

“I actually agree with him on this one, Ed.” you say with a soft smile.  Eddie swoons internally.

He’s able to overlook your choice of Steve’s side due to your use of the nickname.  You’ve been a bit hesitant about using pet names with him the way he does with you, but you’ve assured him time and time again that it’s only because you’ve never dated a guy who actually liked any of that stuff before.  You’re working your way up to Eddie’s level of nicknames, and ‘Ed’ has been a recent development in that process.  Eddie loves it.  

“Gimme the phone man,” Steve’s hand juts into the screen expectantly, swiping the phone from Eddie’s grasp.  “Hey Ms. Artsy, do you think you’ll be able to give this guy a ride back home? Our first home game is in a couple hours, and the boys can’t play without their coach.”

You had almost forgotten about the football game tonight.  Your students had been amped up all day long about it, convincing you to help them paint signs to hold up at the game during class time.  You were planning on asking Eddie if he wanted to go, but you weren’t sure how he felt about attending a school event together.  The status of your relationship wasn’t necessarily a secret, but still not very many people knew.  

“Of course I can!  I just have to clean up a bit and I’ll be right there.” 

“Thanks, teach.” Steve hands the phone back to Eddie, who’s been sulking in the passenger seat because he missed your face. 

You smile at him, “Hang tight, I’ll see you soon okay?”

Eddie smiles, “Okaayyy–!” His voice cuts off in a pained grunt before the call ends, leading you to assume that Steve had once again hit a pothole.  

-

You’re a ball of nerves as you pull in to park outside of the emergency room.  Thankfully, you’re the type of person who keeps their car relatively clean, but that didn’t stop you from doing a once over just to make extra sure there wasn’t any mess.  Why were you so anxious to drive with Eddie?  Maybe the stress from the past hour just has you wound extra tight.

Nervous as you may be, you can’t help but to walk with a bounce in your step as you approach the entrance.  Seeing Eddie is always the highlight of your day, and you couldn’t wipe the growing grin off your face if you tried.  You just hope he isn’t in too much pain, your heart lurches at the thought of him being hurt in any way.

Thanks to impeccable timing, you spot Eddie and Steve walking down the hallway you’ve just entered into.  You notice the papers in Steve’s hands, and the crutches that Eddie is already seemingly irritated by.  Your eyes meet as he looks up, and the crease between his furrowed eyebrows is gone in an instant as a smile lights up his face.  Steve can’t help but smile along as he watches Eddie hobble a little faster on his crutches towards you. 

God, he missed you today.  He loves the color of the top you’re wearing, the way your jeans hug your thighs, the curve of your smile, and he might just love you too, although he probably shouldn’t tell you that part just yet.  

Steve checks his watch for the hundredth time since he and Eddie had arrived at the ER, running a hand through his hair anxiously.  He hands you the papers the doctor gave them with care instructions and pain medication prescriptions before you can even say hello.

“Okay, team.  Kick-off is in thirty minutes, and I gotta jet.”  He looks to you, already in ‘coach’ mode.  “Here are the papers from the doctor, the do’s and don'ts for a bruised foot bone, care instructions, ya-da ya-da.  His prescription can be picked up after 6, there’s a pharmacy around the corner that’s open til 10.”  

You take the papers from him and nod your head, trying to commit all the information to memory.

“Wish me luck guys!”  Steve jogs away, fist pumping the air. “Go Tigers!”

You turn to face Eddie, the both of you wearing matching smiles and shaking your heads at Steve’s theatrics.  You move a bit closer to Eddie, yearning for a hug but not sure if it’s a good idea.

As if he can read your mind, Eddie grins, “Can a hurt guy get a hug? I’m not able to hug you back at this moment but I’ll make it up to you later.”

You step into his space and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest and breathing him in.  How does he still smell so good after teaching all day long?  

He rests his cheek on the top of your head, wondering the same thing about you.  How could someone’s hair possibly be this soft and smell this amazing?  This.  This is what he’s been waiting for all day long.  God, you feel so good pressed against him like this.  If he wasn’t such a gentleman, he’d let the stirring of his cock in his jeans distract him from the pain in his foot, but unfortunately the two of you are still standing in the middle of the ER.  

“Shall we?” 

“Yup!” You reluctantly pull away from his warmth and move to his side to walk with him. You notice him holding his black Dr. Marten’s boot by its laces in one of his hands, then you look down to see his right foot, heavily wrapped in tan bandages.  

“Be honest, does it hurt?” you ask as you take his boot from him so that he can have a better grasp on his crutch.

Eddie sighs, hanging his head.  “I mean, it’s definitely throbbing still.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” You reach up to brush a stray curl out of Eddie’s face, and he can’t help but to lean into your touch like a dog when you use that tone of voice.

You hope he’ll let you take him back to your house instead of his own.  The idea of taking care of him and doting on him has you smiling already.  

“Wanna go back to my house?” Eddie feels his ears perk up at the thought of getting to go to your house again. “I can take you back to yours to get some clothes and stuff, but I don’t like the idea of leaving you there alone when you can’t drive yourself.”

Eddie knows he wouldn’t necessarily be alone, but having Steve Harrington as a roommate often feels like living alone.  Not in a bad way of course, it’s just that Steve is rarely ever at home unless he’s with a woman for the night or hungover in the morning.  

“You sure you want me at your place all weekend long?” Eddie’s giving you an out.  He’s fully aware that the two of you haven’t spent the night together before, and the last thing he wants you to think is that he expects anything from you. 

“Why wouldn’t I? We’ll be super lazy together.  We can watch movies, eat junk food, take naps…it’ll be awesome.”  You look up at him with a giddy smile and Eddie knows he would agree to anything you said. 

“Sounds perfect,” he murmurs against your forehead before pressing two kisses there.

“I parked just ahead in the front row, I didn’t want you to have to go very far but I can still pull the car up here if you feel like you don’t want to go that far.  You must be exhausted.”

He feels his chest warm, you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.  “I’ll be fine, baby.  I can make it.”  He has to work hard to focus on operating his crutches and not your sweet smile, it would be very un-cool of him to fall flat on his face in this parking lot right now.

He manages to make it all the way to your car, putting his crutches in your backseat and hopping over to the passenger side.  You make sure to open the door for him, not moving until you’re sure he’s safe in the seat and buckled up.  You hope he doesn’t think your hovering is annoying.

Eddie thinks your hovering is adorably sweet.  

As soon as you get in and start the car, Eddie asks to see your phone.

“Sure,” you fish it from your purse and hand it to him, “Passcode is 0102.  You gonna DJ?”

“Nope, your car, your tunes honey.  I’m just putting in my address so you know where you’re going.”

“I remember where you live, Ed,” you giggle.  “I’ve been to your place before, remember?”

Of course he remembers, you let him cook you dinner twice and both times you fell asleep in each other’s arms halfway through ‘Back To The Future.’  Maybe this weekend you’ll finally be able to finish it.

“Well, alrighty then.  I’m sorry I ever doubted you, my lady.” You laugh at his dramatics and reverse out of the parking space.

“You’d be wise to never do it again, good sir,” you reply in a medieval accent similar to the one Eddie spoke in.  He’s thankful that you’re distracted by navigating yourself out of the parking lot and not able to see the way his face flushes and his jeans tighten around his groin at your reciprocated dramatics.  You’re so hot when you talk nerdy to him.  You’re so hot all the time.

Eddie sits back and takes in the image of you driving, one he’s never seen before.  He chuckles a bit at how proper you’re sitting, back straight and hands at ten and two on the wheel.  

“Ease up, baby.  You’re not being graded right now,” he laughs.

You laugh along, a little embarrassed. “I know, I drive like a dork.”  You look over at him, exasperated.  “I just don’t feel prepared if I’m slouching or driving one handed!  You never know what could happen.”

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like Steve “Mama Bear” Harrington,” he teases.

You scoff and roll your eyes, still smiling.

“Can you put on some music please?  Driving without it weirds me out.”

“Sure,” Eddie chuckles, opening up the ‘Spotify’ app on your phone. “Uh-oh, look who’s in the hot seat now.  Time to take a peek at your ‘On Repeat.’”

You laugh but hold your head up proudly.  “Peek away Mr. Munson.  I’ve got nothing to hide, I am who I am.”

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” Eddie mumbles as he locates the playlist and hits shuffle.  He can’t believe his ears when the opening chords to ‘One Of These Nights” by Eagles play from your speakers.  His head snaps up towards you, and you can’t help but to burst out laughing at the bewildered look on his face.

“You know, I actually feel like a total asshole right now.  This is an amazing song.” He looks at you like he’s proud of you, and your chest feels warmer.

By the time the song is nearing its end, Eddie’s trying to catch his breath from attempting to hit the highest notes and you’re breaking your “ten and two” rule by clutching your stomach because you’ve been laughing so hard that it hurts. 

Eddie vaguely recognizes the next song as a showtune, but doesn’t comment on it because he’s too caught up in you.  

You, still laughing out loud with your widest smile and the setting sun outlining your silhouette in a golden-orange glow.  He can’t believe he’s in your car, that you’re driving him around, the goddess that you are.  You’re ethereal.  Other-worldly.  

You’re starting to look concerned.  

After coming down from your laughing fit, you turn to find Eddie staring at you with a dazed and confused look in his eye.  Being that he’s fresh out of the Emergency Room, you’re instantly a bit concerned for his well being.  

“Eddie?  Are you feeling okay?”

He blinks a few times before responding, “S-sorry, it’s just…you are so goddamn beautiful.”

Will you ever get used to this floaty warm feeling in your chest?  Luckily for you, he says this while you pull your car into his driveway.  You put the car into park, and lean your head back onto the headrest, no doubt sporting a smile that’s as lovesick as you feel.  

You look at him and whisper, “Thank you.”  Shy fingers reach out to take his hand that rests on your center console, and he’s quick to hold on tight.  Without breaking eye contact with you, Eddie brings your hand up to his mouth and presses two warm kisses to your knuckles.  He then uses that hand to pull you towards him, stopping when your faces are only inches apart.  

“Thank you for driving me,” he whispers, unable to look away from your soft lips.  

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, wishing he would just kiss you already. 

Eddie’s loving the effect he has on you.  He notices your chest rising and falling faster, the breathy tone of your voice, the darkness taking over your eyes.  

He finally leans in and presses his lips to yours gently.  This kiss is much softer than your first one, there’s no urgency or tenacity.  This kiss lets you know that there will be many more to come.  You can’t remember a time where you’d been handled any gentler than this.  Eddie’s holding your face like you’re a rare jewel, like you’re priceless and valuable, and he kisses you like he’s trying to worship you.  

It feels like your lips are dancing together, this feels practiced and choreographed and natural.  

You’re so going to fall in love with this man. 

He pulls away after what could’ve been five hours or five seconds, either way it’s far too soon.  Your mouth chases his lips, making him chuckle softly as he drops kisses onto your nose, cheeks, forehead and chin.

You smile, thoroughly enjoying being doted on like this.  

Eddie backs away once and for all, smoothing your hair out of your face with both hands, his smile matching yours.  

“So pretty.”

You blush harder, if it’s even possible, and let out a happy sigh.  

And with both hands on either side of your face, Eddie obviously uses this opportunity to smush your cheeks together so that your lips pucker. 

“Even prettier,” He leans forward and plants one on you, “Let’s get inside, I can hear my bed calling our names.”

He quickly corrects himself when he sees your eyes widen, “F-for a nap!  I’m tired, you’re probably tired.  Nap time.”

Eddie is sure he’s totally mortified you until he spots you trying to hide your bashful smile and pink cheeks as you undo your seatbelt and get out of the car.  Maybe you’d be into more than nap time?  Why the fuck did he call it ‘nap time’?  

You’re an idiot, Eddie.  That’s why.  She’s not going to fuck you while you have a stupid bruised and use words like ‘nap time.’

He’s still shaking his head at himself when you open the passenger door, looking at him expectantly.  Oh that’s right, you’re going to help him hobble to his own front door, because he’s an idiot who dropped a goddamn amp on his fucking foot.

Eddie hits his head backwards on the headrest with a sigh, “I feel so un-cool right now.”

The sound of your laugh eases his pain a little.

“You’ll live.  C’mon, big boy,”  You chuckle, smirking and looking down on him from where you stand outside your car.  

You open the door to the backseat to grab his crutches and your purse, and Eddie starts to question himself as he feels his dick twitch at your use of the new nickname.  Perhaps it’s something the two of you can explore down the line…he needs to stop thinking about sex with you or else he’ll pop a very obvious boner and scare you off.  

A quick recalling of the mental image that’s seared into his mind of Mrs. Bedson, the 57 year old choir teacher, bumping and grinding with the tennis coach at last year’s prom does the trick.  Eugh.  Eddie shivers at the memory.  

You pop back up with his crutches under your arm, reaching your other one down to help him up.  He doesn’t need the help, but he takes your hand anyway because it feels so right to hold it. 

You unlock his front door with his keys, and then the two of you head inside.  After placing your purse on one of the hooks in the entryway while simultaneously toeing your shoes off, you turn to him with a teasing smile.

“Nap time?”

He laughs, “Yeah, yeah.  Nap time.”

TAGLIST:

@twihard28 @daveythorntonslocker @yujyujj @perfunctory-username69 @the-fairy-anon @micheledawn1975 @ches-86 @newsiesjathrine @josephquinnsfreckles @anukulee @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics @lokis-army-77 @loserboysandlithium @strangerstilinski @mystra-midnight @lesservillain @queenimmadolla @luveline @munson-blurbs @fairyysoup @urhoneycombwitch @oneforthemunny @rebelfell @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @eiightysixbaby @bettyfrommars @loveshotzz @lovebugism @carolmunson @rustedhearts @lonelysatellites

[hugemilkshake]

Can I ask you a request, please? Platonic yandere about White Lily, Elder Faerie, Silverbell, Mercurial Knight x child!reader, possibly as a child or younger sibling. They took care of the reader when reader was a little dough, but unfortunately, they neglected reader and then reader disappeared. They were so sad thinking it was their fault until they saw you were with Gingerbrave's group, sadly, the reader doesn't remember who they are anymore.

Enjoy the milkshake! Did you know, a shrimp made this milkshake?

A child for the faeries

-Platonic-

!TW! Under the cut there are themes like overprotectiveness, not knowing how to care for a child and implied murder

Things never go to plan do they?

White Lily had initially planned on leaving this child to the faeries. She found this child in the deepest depths of beast yeast, the places only yeast spores rest in.

She couldn’t care for fresh dough! Even though she wanted to…. She wanted to be able to relate to Hollyberry and Dark Cacao with having a kid as well… but the faeries are kind enough, fresh dough seems to be safe in their hands! Right?

Well.. yes and no. The faeries have a safe kingdom sure, but do they know how to take care of a child? Nope. I mean there aren’t really any child faeries running around so you can see why they are unsure when it comes to childcare

White Lily arrived and at first was going to get the information about the witches she yearned for but she felt like leaving you was a crime that she couldn’t bear to commit. She promised to not get attached but she did

The faeries also got attached since it’s been a long time since fresh dough had been in the kingdom and while the faeries doted on the fresh dough, they didn’t actually take proper care of them.

Mercurial Knight was one of the babysitters asigned to taking care of the dough, his method was… dull.

He kind gave the fresh dough a stick and said have fun, but if there was any threat then Mercurial Knight would take it upon himself to destroy the threat swifter than an autumn leaf drifting to the forest floor. Now did the child see this? Maybe, but you’ll forget and he’ll get you cleaned up if any jam got on ya.

Now your other babysitter was Silverbell who actually was a somewhat good babysitter! He was caring, made sure to feed you since some faeries forgot about that sometimes and he played with you! But he was very anxious about everything you did.

It got to the point where you were under constant observation, Silverbell would start to have a panic attack if you were out of his sight for more than five seconds. If you did get lost he’d search the kingdom high and low until you were found, Sliverbell would cry tears of relief when he did find you

Now White Lily and Elder Faerie were a duo, you’ll never find one without the other.

White Lilys sent always gave a calm aura and Elder Faerie had a wonderful voice for lullabies, White Lily did too but she was to nervous to sing.

They were kinda like your parents, most of the time anything relating to you went through them first and foremost. Anything from diet to well being to safety, any questions went through them. And they kinda controlled everything, some could say they were over controlling

But the two of them seemed to have a strained relationship due to their different ideas of how you should be raised, Elder Faerie wanted to keep anything from the beasts to the witches to be hidden away

While White Lily wanted you to know things, I mean, it’s not like Dark Cacao or Hollyberry hid anything from their kids so she shouldn’t! And it might help you one day.

Now things came to a head when Dark Enchantress was born, that same day the sealed away beasts got a bit more aggressive with escaping, and during the chaos the child that everyone had tried to raise went missing…

The years ticked on by and a melancholy swept over the faeries, White Lily wasn’t waking up and the child was gone. The joyful atmosphere was gone.

Until one day… a group of cookies walked into the kingdom with one resembling the dough they desired to raise… but they held no sense of familiarity, only curiosity and wonder