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myladysapphire · 8 months ago

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Seduction

you had always longed to be queen but with your brother Aegon married to your twin sister you had lost hope, but upon your nephews return to the keep you realise all hope of being queen isn't lost. there was just one problem: your mother would never agree to marriage between you and Jace. So you set in motion a plan of seduction.

based of this request

word count: 2,182

CW: MDI 18+,smut,p in v, incest, not proofread!

Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader

Masterlist

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: i may have used maergery tyrell as an inspiration for reader.

Growing up in the red keep you had long been surrounded by snakes eagerly vying at the iron throne, doing everything in their power to win more favour and a higher station.

You had hated them.

The false niceties, the fake smiles and the false companions who only desired a potential match between one of your brothers.

But what you hated the most about them, was that you were the same, or at least your ambitions were.

All your life you had desired one thing: to be queen of the seven kingdoms.

As the second born, you had hoped to marry Aegon, and with your mother and grandsires plots to one day make him king, it seemed as if being queen one day was only natural for you. But when he married your younger twin Heleana instead of you, the dream of becoming queen became just that.

And with no reason to support any claim your brother had, you set your sights to your elder sister, Rhaenyra. She had always been kind to you and Heleana, though you had never been too close. But it seemed she was now the only way for you to fulfil what you so deeply desired.

You knew your father would back her as heir no matter how many sons he sired with your mother, and so you realised you too had to support her claim, and then, and only then could you be queen, of course only if you marry her eldest first.

You had planted the idea in her head.

With Jace’s silly crush on you and you yourself hinting on how it would unite the family.

But your mother had rejected Rhaenrya’s suggestion.

And even know years after, you knew she would reject any suggestion of a betrothal between you both once more.

Instead, she favoured a marriage between you and one of the great lords of Westeros.

And even though you would still have a high status, and vast lands and riches, you would not be queen.

And no matter what, you would not settle for anything less.

You desired to be loved as a queen, to have the small folk lore and worship you, it was all you dreamed off. Not to rule, but to be loved by the masses.

You wished for songs and tales to be written of you, for many to compare you to the good queen Alysanne.

And, whilst you had focused your attentions on smallfolk, insisting spare food and leftovers be sent out to the smallfolk. Spent days in orphanages, commissioning the building of schools and healers’ offices.

You gathered up the love of the smallfolk, and though you were gifted the name of the ‘lady of the smallfolk’ and the ‘realms love’ it still wasn’t enough.

You had plenty of lords vying for your attention, many from great and rich houses.

But none could give you what you wanted.

That was until your nephews returned to the keep.

In your youth had ignored your plain-featured nephews, finding little in common with them and only seeing a potential marriage with Jace as a means to an end.

Perhaps that was why you had sent him letters throughout the years, claiming that you were egar to know your nephew and hated that he left before you could become close.

You wrote often, finding many things in common, and suddenly the idea of marrying Jace became a little more than just wanting to become queen.

You had grown to rather like your nephew, and now with his return to the red keep all you wanted now was not just be queen, but his wife.

There was one problem, however.

One being that Your mother would never betroth you willingly to him. She had refused it before, seeing Jace as a bastard and unfit for her daughter.

But from the look he sent you as you greeted him, dragging him around the castle insisting on catching up.

And from the nonstop wondering eyes at his younger brothers hearing, you were sure she wouldn’t be an obstacle for much longer.

As you walked into the courtyard to greet him and his family, Jace thought to himself that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

His eyes were drawn to you so naturally, and the smile you had sent him had been warm and kind. A look he scarcely received in these halls.

The way you had talked to him, telling him how deeply you treasured his letters, how dearly you had missed him.

You seemed so perfect, and gods would he do anything to marry you.

He had stared at you nonstop, and yet found no words to say to you. Even when you had walked the hall of the keep together. You had talked to him no stop, smiling so beautifully.

He had only stared and blushed. Unsure of what to say or do.

And now at dinner, you had walked in in a black gown. The dress itself was the image of your houses, covered in black dragon scales, and with no sleeves, instead arm rings in the shape of dragon wings, mimicking a sleeve, down both your arms. A deep v neckline, draped with a red scarf across one shoulder down to your waist, accentuating both your hips and breasts.

You were the very image of Targaryen beauty.

He couldn’t take his eyes of you. Even more so when you sat beside him, your legs brushing together.

You had smiled at him yet again, moving close to him as you talked to him.

His eyes were glued to your lips, watching as they moved to speak to him and those around you.

He had said little words to reply to your questions, only blushing whenever you spoke to him.

Then you had left, fanning you were tired and that you would escort the king back to his chambers before going to your own.

He had been sad you had left, with no longer your lips to stare at, or just your company to bask in.

Though he was glad you were not here to witness the infighting, his weak punch towards your brother Aemond, the mocking he had faced.

He had returned to is room in defeat, after facing a scolding from his mother and being sent to bed early like a child.

He entered his chambers, head down, kicking the door closed behind him in anger. He didn’t look up as he entered, instead choosing to ready himself for bed.

If he had he would have seen, you.

Laying naked on his bed.

You laughed to yourself, biting you lip as he faced away from you.

He jumped at the sound of your laugh, moving his clothes to quickly cover himself.

“Aunt?” he started, blushing as he took in your naked form. He turned from you, covering his eyes. “I- what are you doing?”

You laughed again, standing up and walking over to him, “isn’t it obvious, my prince?”

He stuttered; eyes still covered “this is in appropriate I should- “

You shushed him, grabbing his arm and turning him to face you “leave your own chambers?” you teased “why is something wrong with me being here?”

“I-no, no I like that you’re here but… your- naked!” he stuttered out.

You nodded, “so it appears I am”.

“Would you like some clothes?”

“Why? Am I not pleasing to you, my prince?” you asked, moving back and turning slowly to show off your body to him.

“no-no- I mean yes! YIs, very pleasing but this is inappropriate” “is it?” you teased, “why? Do you wish for me to go? Perhaps I should get one of the guards, so that we are not alone” you said, making your way to the door.

“No!” he said a little too loudly. “don’t, I- why are you here?”

You smiled, moving towards him once again. “I have missed you, Jace” you said, your face inches away from his, “you have grown so handsome, so…so kingly” you mouth now inches from his, “and I wished to give you a gift” he swallowed, “a gift?”

You nodded, humming, before placing your lips on his.

Your lips moved slowly against his, he was unsure, inexperienced. The kiss was slow and soft. It was short, though your breaths were both heavy as you pulled apart.

“Yes, Jace, a gift” you said, pulling your lips from his and reaching for his hand.

“Was that the gift?”

“Some of it�� you said, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist. “Did you know your mother planned to betroth us when we were younger?” he shook his head, “I was to be your wife, and now…we will soon be betrothed to others and I cannot have that, Jace” you breathed.

“Really?” he said, voice rough, his hands were both your waist, squeezing your hips softly, as if finally realising why you were naked.

‘Yes, for so long I dreamt of being your wife… I would even touch myself to the thought of you, of us”.

His breath was heavy, “you…you wish to give yourself to me?”

You answered him with another kiss, this one passionate, needy.

Pushing him down onto the bed, straddling him.

“I wish to be your wife, Jace” you breathed against his lips.

“You do?” he breathed, moving to kiss you once more, “but I am already betrothed,”

You looked down sadly, “I... Do not remind me, it pains me so”.

He sighed your name, “is that why you came here? To sleep with me so we must marry”.

“Oh, you must think me horrible” you said, moving to stand from his lap, only for him to pull you back down onto him.

“No, no not at all…I, I would be lying if I said I had never desired to marry you, but- “

“But nothing, my sweet prince” you said, moving in to kiss him once more, if he wished to marry you also, then this was only even more perfect.

Your seduction almost unneeded.

But gods did you want him.

He moaned, into your mouth, his hands desperately gripping your waist, before hesitantly moving up to cup your breasts.

You let out a moan as he gave them a tentative squeeze, before moving to roll your nipples between his fingers.

He was moved slowly, testing out what you liked, and egar to learn what made you moan.

You yourself started to kiss down his neck as he played with your breasts. Your hips still slowly grinding against.

His cock had grown hard beneath you.

His groans increasing as you continued to grind against him.

Your wet cunt coating his cock, her entrance teasing him with each movement of her hips.

“please” he begged, unsure of what exactly what he was begging for.

You stood up from his lap and pushed him to lie down on the bed.

You smiled as you took him in. his pretty face, full of lust and desire. The want clear on his face.

“Wait!” he said stooping you, as you crawled over his body, positioning your entrance above his long hard cock.

“Yes?” you sighed; breath heavy.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“of course, you want us to marry, yes?” he nodded, “and my mother would never approve of it unless…unless we give ourselves to one another.”

“Gods…I, I- your right” he said, reaching up to kiss you as he finally filled you. His cock stretching you out in a way you didn’t know possible. The pleasure near overwhelming.

You both moaned as he fully entered you.

“Gods!” he moaned, his hands going to grip your waist.

Your hands rested on his chest, preparing to move as you finally adjusted to his length.

Slowly you began to move your hips, trying to slowly build a rhythm and find what you both liked.

But it seemed the shy unsure Jace you had been witnessed to all night faded, as Jace gripped your hips and started to thrust up into you.

He set a fast past, and though you tried to keep up, Jace soon flipped you and instead started thrusting into you. His hips moved hard and fast, your moans were loud as you got lost in the pleasure.

Jace had buried himself in your neck, holding onto you as he thrusted into you.

Both of your peaks were fast approaching.

You felt his cock pulse inside of you as you clenched around him.

Moaning his name as you came, before he picked up the face, fulling your face to his as he came, filling you with his seed.

He collapsed on you, his breath heavy.

“Gods, that was…incredible” he smiled, reaching up to kiss you once more. “now all that’s left is for us to get married” he joked, pulling you in for a hug.

And from the scream of the maid as she came to wake Jace up in the morning, she was sure that in no time news would reach their mothers, and they would be wed.

And she would get everything she ever desired.

authors note: i hate this ending! there is so much i wanted to say but i just couldnt word it correclty, but i hope you all enjoyed it!

taglist

@now-i-have-a-new-obsession @apollonshootafar @flrboyd @zillahvathek @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @clobo @aegonswife

to be added to taglist

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dilf-docs · 1 month ago

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Call It What You Want

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: you and pedro are married, but you've kept it a secret up to the point you sometimes forget there's supposed to be a golden band on your finger. but then you both get cast in your first movie together. the chemistry is off the charts, and it starts to catch upon you: will the lines between shipping and reality finally blur?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (ñom), smut, dry humping, oral (m. receiving) while pedro wears the skirt™️ (welcome to another episode of the writer's barely disguised fetish), p. in v., teeny bit of angst because i malfunction if i don't bring sad vibes to the function, the worst ever attempt of comedy witnessed by human kind, they're so down bad it hurts, jealous!reader, possesive!pedro, reader speaks spanish and may or may not have direct/indirect latino blood somewhere, use of spanglish but no translations ☹️ (boo go do your homework, citizens. that's what u get for making my dieter bravo fic flop BYE), i transcripted two real interviews for this so keep those likes, reblogs and comments up in the air where i can see 'em 🪓🪓

word count: 11,706 words

side note: hello! this is me, sliding my cv to become president of the pedro pascal fics. i'm kidding, just on duty to fulfill another request 🫡 believe it or not, i envisioned something like this but for myself IJBOL we have to keep the delusional levels UP!! i hope this meets ur expectations, it was fun to write :)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"Please welcome, the internet's newest darling, Y/n L/n!"

You walk into the set, cameras flashing bright and the band playing on the back. You hug Jimmy Fallon, and when he notices your body trembling he tells you everything will be alright. So did your manager before you stepped inside, but you can't help the nerves. You've never been this big before, and now it's all coming down together without letting you breath.

You take your seat and so does Jimmy.

"Hello, Y/n. This is your first time here, right?"

"Am I being too obvious?" you snort. The crowd laughs with you.

"Don't worry. It happens, especially when you're so young"

"Oh, please" you blush. "I can promise you there are kid actors who could handle this better than I am right now"

"Kid stars?" he lets out one of his famous cackles. "No need to be humble. You are great! Let's just talk about the year you've had: big breakout roles, ascend to fame, you're rocking it!" the crowd cheers, and you again turn into a flustered mess.

"Yeah, I suppose. It's hard to dimension when you've started as an extra for popular shows, to now being, you know, the main face of projects. But I could get used to it" you smile, "it's been a dream. I still can't believe it sometimes, look- I'm shaking"

The camera pans closer to the hand you're showing to Jimmy.

"Oh my God, even big stars like you get nervous"

"Big star? I wish I could feel like a constellation. I'm feeling more like a red dwarf star, baby"

The whole place bubbles in laughter. You feel better, your manager even giving you a thumbs up from behind the cameras.

"So, Y/n" Jimmy says once the laughter dies. "You just got casted in the upcoming Gladiator II movie, directed by Ridley Scott. How does it feel to be on your first big movie, alongside names like Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington and Pedro Pascal?"

You try to steady your heartbeat. "First of all, I have to say, it's such an honor to work with Scott. I grew up watching his movies. Like, Thelma and Louis is definitely my go-to movie. So, like, getting paired with such a talented cast is as awesome as terrifying" you answer with a laugh.

"Talking about that, you see" he leans closer, like he'll tell a secret. "I've heard things about you and a certain future co-star of yours"

You shift your position on the couch, your ring(less) finger itching. You have to avoid breathing in relief when Jimmy pulls out a picture.

"Oh. My. God"

He stiffles a laugh. No way. Has the room's temperature suddenly gotten hotter? Why is your face burning?

"Will you tell us the story behind this?" he asks, the camera focusing on the picture in question. The audience laughs, and you pray to God this is a nightmare, because it's too much embarrasment for a human to bear.

"Okay" you clear your throat, coughing awkwardly. "For my 25th birthday, I uploaded a bunch of pictures on Instagram, including ones where I was a teenager" you begin to giggle, "So. Um, there was this one, you see, that's, me, in my childhood home's bedroom, and my fans were quick to notice the poster above my bed"

"You mean, this one?" and Jimmy points it out. You cover your face with your palms. "It's a... Narcos poster" the audience laughs as you get redder. "A Pedro Pascal's Narcos poster"

"I know" you groan. "Picture this: me 18, and while my friends had posters of their favorite bands and artists, I was so different because I had a whole ass poster of a crime drama show about the world's most famous drug dealer on my bedroom" you recall with a laugh. "It was hard to explain to my mom. I believe she thought I wanted to sign for the DEA or something. When I told her I was going to be an actress, she was so relieved! She said: Oh, well. You'll die, but of hunger! Not a bullet in your head, at least"

"Oh. I'm so sorry. You proved her wrong though!"

"I did! Don't worry, Jimmy. She's my biggest fan now" you look at a specific camera before saying, "Te amo mami!"

"I see you speak spanish. I sometimes forget" he comments. "You've got one thing in common with Pedro, it seems. Think that'll make working with him less awkward?"

"I just hope he forgives me or I'm capable of moving out of the country and changing names" you giggle. "Pedro, lo siento!"

"Well, that's Y/n L/n, everyone! Pedro Pascal's number one fan" you burst out laughing in shame. "More on her lastest movie after the break"

mandoshoney: tell me i'm not the only one who started shipping pedro pascal and y/n l/n PLEASE can't wait to get content of them interacting ㅤㅤann-gell: mandoshoney y/n's pedro pascal's controversially young gf era starts now! i wonder how the press tour for #gladiatorII will go 🤔 unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they are dating ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess ptwt can never tweet like normal ppl…wdym you're betting your grandma?!!!?

You were never a fan of secrets.

But then Pedro waltzed into your life with his charming smile and iconic mustache, and before you knew it, you had married him off in some church in California one random sunday morning ("I love you so much, can't wait to marry you, cariño" "If you can't wait any longer, why not now?")

Flash forward, four years later, and you'd think such event would be plastered all over the internet. But there is a reason why only you, family, a selected number of friends and your agents knew: you kept it a secret.

To the world, he was Chile's most elegible bachelor and you were a young rising star. The public loved both of you for the same reasons: charming persona and acting skills. Yet inside the privacy of your home, he was Pedro and you were y/n, wife and husband; he was yours as you were his.

And of course, no marriage is perfect, and your first real challenge is rather funny: you both get casted in your first movie together.

It shouldn't be hard, but it is. Being inside the Gladiator II set during seven months, so far away yet so close at the same time, was torture. You were Rome's empress and he's Marcus Acacius, yet behind the scenes, the actual married couple were you both.

It was hard to pretend you didn't know what he looked like without clothes when he wore his bathing suit, or that you didn't know his favorite food when Paul asked, or acting like you weren't interested in dating when a local in Malta during your trip at the beach asked you out (he didn't know who you were. You were flattered when he called you pretty in such a hot European accent, but then Pedro appeared from seemingly "nowhere" and you remembered what your real favorite accent was. He immediately called you bonita after that)

It was so hard to keep hands to yourself when he walked by you, covered in fake blood. To not think about licking it all over and under his armour. So was to pretend the thought of dry humping him with his Roman skirt on wasn't tempting. Or that the urge to kiss him got harder and harder to fight each passing day, even getting to a point where you would envy Connie for being able to kiss your husband in the open more, a privilege you didn't have.

You were loosing your mental health here. But Pedro was no better.

It was so hard to see you, the Moroccan sun shining over your features like you were an angel. Otherworldly. That he'd see red when you'd finish filming a scene with Joseph, forcing himself to interrupt the small chat you'd engage in after. He too couldn't keep pretending he didn't want to tear off those silk dresses out of your body, and kiss you out in the open like Joseph did.

He almost failed once, cornering you in the hallway of the hotel you were staying. His hot breath lingered on your neck. I miss you, he had said. You felt his hard brush the inner of your thigh. We can't, you whispered in a dragged out voice.

It was hard.

So you gave him your used panties, and you swear you could hear him jacking off in the bathroom of his room, next to yours. He'd screamed your name, and your hand had found it's way to your dripping cunt, doing what he was supposed to do; touching you the way he did. And you came, drowned out moans against your pillow. But it wasn't like when he did it.

But God has heard your prayers.

For the first time in weeks, you're lucky. You find Pedro sitting alone in the cafeteria, his phone in hand. He's still wearing his armour and skirt, not bothering to change for the break. You aren't God's strongest soldier, but you're trying not to go down on him so badly right here and now.

"Hey" he raises his head when he hears your voice, smile adoringly. It only grows wider when he notices you alone. "Thought you'd never get rid of Paul. He's like, stitched to you"

"Same can be said about you and Joseph" you sit across him, and despite most of his tone being playful, there are still hints of jealousy behind. It arouses you deeply, and with this hot summer day above you, your skin isn't the only thing that's getting sticky.

"In case you haven't read the script, I'm his wife" you wink. "Sorry this is how you find out"

He laughs loudly, and God, how have you missed that laugh. Sure, it's been there when you've been out with the cast together, but it doesn't tingle your chest as when you're the cause of it; it feels like it's for you only, and that's what makes it special.

"I miss you so much" he whispers, his hand sliding across the table, finding yours. His thumb carresses your soft palm, and you melt under Pedro's tender touch.

"I do too" you sigh, but it's instantly replaced by what could only be described as a smug face. You lean closer, whispering on his ear, the warm meeting cold. He shivers. "Wanna know something?"

"I'm all ears"

"I just came back from walking. Guess what?No one is 'round here" you lean back against your chair, shit-eating grin on your face as all his body tenses up. "Made sure of it. The trailer zone is empty too"

Pedro gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as his eyes look at you.

"Y/n" calling your name as a warning.

"What? Can't a girl find ways to have her husband all for herself?" you snort. "Please say yes" you let go of his hand, but the free fingers now travel across his broad chest, taunting him. "C'mon, we both deserve a break"

He can't say deny you anything, can he? You know it, he knows it.

Before you register, his big hand engulfs yours as you run across the set. You giggle at his rushed steps, even more when you stand before his trailer and he's fumbling his slippery hands with the doorknob, sloppy movements erratic.

"But you told me to stop" you tease, and he doesn't even let you add more because he's pushing you inside, forcing you with rough calloused hands to a chair and then you to sit over his lap.

"Fuck, babygirl. I've spoiled you way too much" he groans against your lips. "Lo sabes, ¿verdad? Just can't say no to you"

Your eyes darken dangerously, the hunger on them mirroring his own.

"How could you ever say no to this?"

You press your chest against his broad one as your lip bites into his lower one, teasing. Pedro feels his underwear getting tighter when your tongue finds its way inside his mouth, even getting a glimpse of the taste of the strawberries you had earlier before.

He deepens the kiss, and when you pull away to catch your breath, he doesn't waste his lonely mouth and busies himself with the task of kissing your sun-kissed neck, licking and pressing his lips under your jaw. Pedro goes even lower, down until he's reached your collarbone, making you groan a bit under his wet sloppy needy mouth. He's enjoying how putty you are under his intense kissing, fingers in his curls, that have begun to damp under the ablaze of the small space and pleasure that fills the air.

"Kiss me again in my lips" you whine after a while of him teasing you with kisses that get only rougher. "Pretty please, papi"

You cup his face in your hands, and Pedro's back to kissing you in the mouth, tasting all of your insides as he hasn't had in what feels like a lifetime.

"Of course, baby. Missed this pretty mouth" he mumbles in between hot kisses, his now growing boner pressing into you.

"Baby" you giggle. The skirt he's got on may hide it, but your fingers refused to wait, pulling it up. His bulge presses against the shorts he's got under the skirt, and you can feel your pussy and mouth drool. "We have to do something about this big boy" your hands pull down the short, leaving just his underwear on. He's about to remove the skirt, but your demanding hands stops him. "This stays"

His brown concerned eyes make you laugh, but you don't give him time to think about it, rather grinding against his erection. Pedro's breath hitches when he feels your daring movements, bucking his hips against yours.

The friction is addicting, and he captures your lips once again to make you feel what he can't with words: how fucking good this feels.

You keep moving over his aching dick. Your husband throws his head back, groaning in pleasure at the way your hips move against him, knowingly. His hands find their way to your ass under the flowy almost translucent skirt you chose to change in, gripping the rosy skin tightly, hands almost covering all of it.

"You wore this for me, right, cariño? Knew I couldn't say no" he groans, firm hands on your cheeks, the grinding meeting his hips now harsher. "Less with you walking around with this slutty skirt of yours"

You make little sounds he's obssesed with, dripping out of your filthy mouth.

"Fuck" Pedro groans after a while, "I need to have you, mami. Missed you so much" eager fingers make it to your top. He growls, deep within him―guttural, ready to pull it off as he mumbles naughty wife when he realizes you got no bra on, chastising you for a "rushed" plan that seemed planned all along, when a sound cuts through the air.

You both stop.

The sound gets clearer.

It's a knock. A knock at his door.

A knock in Pedro's trailer.

And you are inside. Both.

While you're grinding him.

With his skirt on.

(It's time to build a bomb and kill yourselves off and whoever is stading behind that door)

"Pedro!" a familiar accent calls. Peudrou. It's Paul. "Hey, man. Just wondering if you are here"

He's debating on speaking up when he sees your red face and rising-falling chest before him.

"Answer" you whisper breathlessly. He tries not to groan when he fills you slip out of the spot in his middle while also trying not to think about murdering Paul as soon as he gets out.

Aside from the order, you're unexpectedly quiet, and Pedro quirks an eyebrow at you. He knows you better―you're his wife after all, and if there's something he's aware of, is your inability to loose.

"I'm here" tone clipped and annoyed. But no footsteps backtracking are heard: the Irish man is still there.

You bite your lip, watching the skirt with his legs spread, a sight too tempting. Also, he was still hard, as hard as the task to not go and keep doing your job.

Oh, fuck this shit.

Your devilish hand equals the grin in your face, fingers making their way toward his unattended bulge.

"What are you doing here?" Paul asks, but Pedro's attention has completely deviated, now focused on how they land right over his clothed dick, skirt pulled up by your other hand. "I thought you were at the cafeteria"

"Yeah?" but it comes out strained, yet the younger man doesn't notice or comment.

His hips raise when your fingers press his member, massaging it.

"Yeah" he uses a tone that equals a duh. "You texted me yourself"

Pedro rolls his eyes, wishing desperately he would go away, annoying him just as much as a fly hovering above fresh food. Talking about food, fuck, weren't you hungry? He tried to warn you, holding your wrist, but all resolve was lost the moment you looked in his eyes: he immediately pulled down his briefs, dick sprouting hard.

"Well, changed my mind" his tone falters in between words, member now free from the confines of his tight underwear.

"Are you tired, man? You sound tired" Paul comments on his tone. "Came to rest?"

You spit on your hand, and he gulps.

"Somethin' like that"

You start to jerk him off, leaving little wet kisses and licks just above his dick. Pedro's eyes are hypnotized, glued to every lick of yours across his girth, the spit making your movements smoother. Sexier. Fuck.

"Well, sorry to break it to you but rest time is over. They want us back on set now"

Your tight needy lips are wrapped around his his length and it's so hard to keep the talk normal when he justs wants to yell at Paul to fuck off. Your hand is there too; you are as of help as much as you aren't.

"I'll be there, Paul, just―Fuck!"

But his attempt to cover a moan doesn't go unnoticed.

"Are you alright in there?" he tries to enter, but Pedro locked the door. He's yelling he's fine, but Mescal doesn't sound convinced. "I can't go inside; it's locked. Are you sure you are okay, mate?"

"Didn't want you to take a picture of me drooling on my sleep" he manages to get out in a monotone voice. A real win if you take into account you've gotten to a point where you squeeze under his cock, massaging his balls.

"Smart move!" he chuckles from outside. "I guess I'll see you there"

Pedro covers a moan with his palm as he's throwing his head back in pleasure. He can feel his orgams looming over, minstrations growing sloppier around his pulsating cock, the need to fill your greedy evil mouth with his seed making him sick. He's a simple man: he just wants his pretty wife to fuck his cock silly and come in her mouth in peace. Is that so hard to get this days?

Paul seems to be finally gone as Pedro can't keep containing his grunts anymore, steps moving: until said steps sound closer again.

"Oh, I almost forgot, have you seen Y/n? I can't find her anywhere" it's coming. His orgasm is coming in the absolute worst moment. He can feel you gagging at his hard rock cock, hitting the back of your throat now. Still, your hands don't loose their grip on his cock and skirt, determination filling that sexy little body of yours. It was rather admirable the effort you were putting in this. "Think she went to the beach? She said she loved it. God, that little rebel. Anyway, if you see her, tell her-"

He leans his head back once again, seeing stars. No one knows him like his wife, truly.

The sight of you drooling from your chin, the wet sounds of him fucking himself onto your mouth as your spit-coated fingers pump his girth, you gulping down the precum from his tip, his fingers holding your face roughly by the cheeks...

"Yes, Paul, yes!" Pedro barks, barely hiding the moan that erupts from his ribcage, thick shots of his hot cum hitting your tongue and deep of the throath. "Fuck off and let me get ready"

"Jesus, mate, chill. I'm sorry. See you there"

And Paul Mescal's hovering fly ass is finally gone.

"Poor Paul" you say as soon as you pull off his length, voice raspy as you huff for air. Pedro lovingly cleans rests of your saliva and his cum from your chin as he chuckles at how much audacity, courage and horniness could fit in such a small young body. "You've ruined the friendship"

"You think?" he licks off some as you sit on his lap again, tongue directly on your face. You feel aroused again, but time's up. "It's your fault. That and this"

He points down.

"Just as you used that pretty head of yours to think of the trouble you just made, think of an excuse for Mr. Ridley about the skirt"

at0michips: wait wdym paul is sick??? ㅤㅤl-u-n-a-m: at0michips he's died vnightx: i'm wondering who'll do now the do you even know me interview with pedro now :( i was so excited!!! hope they don't cancel it :( ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: vnightx i bet my grandma it's y/n ㅤㅤat0michips: unhing3dprincess why do u keep betting ur grandma omg 😭😭😭

"You know what I think would be fun?" Pedro comments while you wait for the interview's set to be prepared.

Tour press has finally begun. That meant you could go home for a while after the filming wrapped, just to be back for the promotion of the film. You were excited of course, the experience new and thrilling. After much needed battery recharging and husband/wife time, you were ready to take over the world.

But then Paul got sick.

Today's interview was scheduled to be him and Pedro, but since he was unavailable, they paired him with you, since you both spoke Spanish (which felt slightly racist in your opinion), and because Fred and Joseph were already paired up for the other.

You leave your coffee, knowing he's about to say something stupid or endearing, perhaps both, brown liquid probably spilling out of your mouth. Or worst, nostrils.

"Tell me"

"What if we left little hints that we're together?" his smile is one of mischief. "Like you could wear my cap, or I could wear a chain with your initial around my neck, like Ryan Gosling did at the Barbie premiere"

"Or as Taylor Swift sang" you counter. "But Pedro, dear, you're underestimating our fans. You don't think they'll match it sooner than we think?"

"Maybe" he agrees. That's just what I want. "What's funny is we're about to do a type of interview where we could blow our cover"

"Maybe" you repeat, "or maybe you don't know all about me as much as you think, Mr. Pascal"

He fake gasps, feigning hurt. "Is this a dare, Mrs. Pascal?"

"No" you try to be mature for once, cutting the banter as much as you'd like to go on and kiss him right there. "Also, remember to answer incorrectly sometimes, you know..."

"There's no way I'm letting you win though"

"Pedro, no seas necio!"

The producers arrive just in time to let you know it's ready.

"After M'lady" he's back to being charming as he is, not as husband charming but just Pedro Pascal charming. The nerve of this guy to do it in front of the LADbible crew.

"Whatever" you grumble, the nerves getting the best of you as you realize this interview may or may not give away more than you've been allowed before.

"Hello, I am Y/n L/n" you present yourself. Wow, the camera is really close. This isn't going to end well.

"And I'm Pedro Pascal"

Hearing his voice soothes you. It's okay, y/n, you got this. "And this is Do You Really Know Me- No wait, it's do you even know me. Okay, let's start again: Hello, I'm Y/n and this is-"

"I don't even know anymore" Pedro jokes, making you laugh. "Do you even know me?" he asks while looking forward, now making the crew laugh.

"This is Pedro Pascal, that'll do" you sigh.

"This is gonna be sad, she's not going to know any of these" he says, but in reality, he's mocking you, the mischief in his eyes glowing as he only looks at you tauntingly.

"Same can be said about you" you tease, "we're like a million years away"

"That's not true!" he gasps, "I watch your every move" punctuating each word. God, you try not to make a face. "I have Google alerts on you"

If he was gonna play, so were you.

"Glad to know I have you alerted" with the sweetest voice ever, seeing how his friendly façade falters for a bit at the tone you've used. You laugh, and Pedro takes the chance to laugh it off too.

After the introduction, they ask one of you to keep score, and you offer yourself because, well, you don't trust Pedro.

"I'll go first" you say. "Which was my first ever role in the industry? As an extra during an episode of Stranger Things, as a voice actor in A dog's purpose" you can't help but laugh, "or as a back-up dancer in Hustlers?"

"In Hustlers?" Pedro inquires in disbelief. "You're telling me you were in Hustlers?! I didn't even know you could dance!"

Lies. You and Pedro sometimes put some bachata and dance in the kitchen. God bless Juan Luis Guerra.

"Jennifer Lopez and I are practically besties" you answer nonchalant.

You know the answer. He does too. But he chooses the last one for comedic purposes.

"I'll go with Hustlers. Now that I'm looking at you, you do have a... dancer face"

"It's okay, you can say the forbidden word. I'll take it as a compliment" you laugh, "you're wrong, though. The answer is Stranger Things"

"No way!" and it sounds as if he genuinely didn't know. Good lying son of a bitch; Jim Carrey on Liar, Liar would've been proud.

"Yes. If you look in the background of season two, on this one episode where Nancy and Steve appear to have broken up during a halloween party, you can see me drinking from a cup on a corner"

"That's so crazy"

"Yeah, I was twenty already, yet playing a highschooler" you giggle. "Wow, time flies by. Anyway, we're both at zero. Your turn"

"What film did my dad not let me see at the cinema when I was, uh, ten years old?" Pedro reads from his card. "Rambo: first blood, The Breakfast Club, Day of The Dead"

"I'm going to base this in the year you were born. Okay, so 1975. Let's see" one of the things Pedro loves about you is that you're like a film encyclopedia, but right now, that'll cost him a point. "They all came out the same year, and they were also R rated. Hmmh, I'll choose The Breakfast Club"

Your analysis was just mindless bragging really. You knew the answer the moment he started reading the question, because the anecdote came during a time he heard you listening to the movie's soundtrack ("Did you know that my dad...")

"You complain about Paul all the time, but you're just the same" he comments. "She's a real competitor, people!"

You flush in embarrasment. "Okay, that's one for me. Next question" you read the card in your hands. "What pet do I own? An orange cat named Louis after my favorite singer, a fish, or a Shih Tzu named after my brother"

The orange cat lives with you both. You're curious as to how he'll answer.

"You aren't naming a Shih Tzu frickin' Fernando" he laughs, so loud, it ends up catching up to you and the crew. "I'll go with the cat"

"That's correct" you lament. "How would you know?"

As if the damn cat doesn't love him more than he loves you.

"I follow you on Instagram" he defends himself. Clever. "We are, um, what do you call it-"

"Oomfs"

"I'm not gonna try to pronounce your made up language. Okay, my turn. Which of these characters I've played in Saturday Night Live? Naughty daddy, protective mom, or weird uncle who has a creepy sneeze" he reads out loud in a confused tone.

This is easy. It was all over your timeline.

"Protective mom" you answer on a beat.

"This isn't fair, that was really popular!" he complains.

"It's still two for me and one for you" you mock. "Now, what is the nickname the internet has given me? I won't give you clues because it's an easy one"

"Easy? You said we were million of years apart and now I'm supposed to know?"

"Well, you seem to manage Instagram so I think you'll be just fine" you tease, and Pedro just wants to rip that smirk off of you. So he caves in first.

"It's people's princess"

"What?!" your eyes grow comically large, shimmering with betrayal as you shout with an incredulous tone. "I can't believe you know" more like can't believe you said it.

"You're royalty! How am I supposed to not know that, internet darling? Besides, told you: I keep my eye on you" and he winks.

This motherfucker. Oh, he's totally sleeping on the couch tonight.

"Talk about internet darlings" your snarky tone comes out, and Pedro knows he's pissed his competitive wife off. "I guess we have a tie. Your turn"

"What are the initials of my full name?" his brows furrow. "I forget. JBPP, JPBP, JBPP"

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite. "B, of course"

"But that's too easy, everyone with Google knows it!" but then he's leaning into your ear, whispering in a very low voice to make sure only you hear. "I'll let it pass, though. Love hearing you pronounce my name, mami"

Your face grows obscenely red. "I'm back ahead. Let's see if you can keep up. Okay, here it goes" you read the card, "what is the director I've stated I want to work with? Greta Gerwig, Pedro Almodóvar, or Quentin Tarantino"

"Pedro Almodóvar, no? You said you were jealous I had already worked with him" he playfully nudges you. Too much contact, face hot again. Maybe in group interviews you'll do better, because right now, you're doing a rather poor job at controlling yourself, even as an actor; you can already picture your agent pulling her hair behind the cameras.

"It's Greta Gerwig, actually"

"What?! No way, you told me this!" he grumbles. "This game is rigged"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still jealous. I just think working with Greta Gerwig is peak womanhood, and I gotta live that. So, Greta, if for some reason this silly video gets to you, call me. I promise I'm not that childish"

"She is" Pedro slips in, "don't call her. So unprofessional" in a mocking exaggerated tone.

"Whatever, you sore looser. Me three, you two. Next!"

"Fine. Which of these songs would I have played at my funeral? My Heart Will Go On, Purple Rain, Nothing Compares To You"

He looks at you, silently pleading you to not answer correctly. Your competitive side screams in agony.

"I have no idea. Why do I feel you've already said it somewhere, though? I'll go with Nothing Compares To You, because the first its too corny for you and the second too epic"

He scoffs, amused at the fact that you did obey, but at what cost? Pedro's well aware his princess can get as competitive, if not worse, than Paul.

"You're saying I'm not epic enough for Purple Rain? Too bad, because that's the answer" you grunt, crossing your arms. "That's right, I am cool enough to have it played. I guess we're tied again!"

"No, you don't loose a point. It's still three to two. This just gives you the opportunity to tie"

"W-wait a minute"

"Settle down" you pat his thigh, "you can still try, handsome"

He gulps when your hand meets his skin, despite the layer of clothes. It's still something that gets him on edge, no matter the years you've known each other. And handsome? You came here for blood.

"Okay, here's your chance: what image of me became trending topic on twitter? An image of me eating a typical dish from my country, an image of me watching Deadpool and Wolverine with glasses while Hugh Jackman's shirtless scene reflects on them or C, me meeting Taylor Swift at the backstage of the Eras Tour"

"The typical dish is tempting" he muses out loud, "but I'll go with the Taylor Swift one because that sounds like something that'd trend"

"You're right" you throw your card. "I'm not complaining though. Best day of my life"

"Does this mean I'm winning?" he beams excitedly. "Oh, in your face Paul! I will finally win something!"

"Slow down, cowboy. There's still some left"

He purses his lips. "Let me have this one thing, would you? Guess not. Here it comes" he starts to read his card, "At school I competed in state competitions, in which sport? Soccer, lacrosse, swimming"

"Swimming" you answer hastily, trying not to think on Pedro wearing tight little swimsuits, as you've only seen him wearing swim trunks.

"Okay, that's dissapointing. Please continue"

"I participated in which play while I was in highschool? Hamlet, The Iliad or Much Ado About Nothing"

You doubt he remembers. The only time it ever came up, was when you visited your parent's house and a photography of you during said play was showed to him by your dad.

"The Iliad, right?" you laugh. The answer is wrong: It's Hamlet. "What? I swear it was that one! It's just you have very..." beautiful is at the tip of his tongue but he refrains himself, "...very greek features"

You can't help but laugh.

"Why of course! This is a face people go to war for"

"I agree" your heart skips a beat, "but I don't think I'll make it that far, if we talk about a war"

"You big fat liar!" you slap his arm playfully. "You've played all sort of characters, from soldiers of all nationalities and places, and like, superheroes, f*****g Joel Miller, even a DEA agent. You at least learned something!"

"Wow, slow down, this isn't a filmography recount" he jokes. Liar, you mouth to the cameras. "Okay, last one: I became a viral sensation for eating what type of sandwhich in LADbible's snack wars: BLT, PB&J, grilled cheese"

You remember the video fondly. Even your brother had sent it to you, along a text that said: Isn´t this your husband?

"PB&J, I win!" you cheer, instantly getting off the chair to do a celebratory dance. Pedro doesn't say anything, just throwing the cards away while the fondness of his eyes betrays him.

pyramiidsf: i want someone to look at me the way pedro looks at y/n mybritishstyle: guys they're just friends 😭 he's like that with all his female co-stars ㅤㅤann-gell: mybritishstyle me when i'm delusional af mandoshoney: where's that girl that's always betting her grandma??? SHE WAS RIGHTFLKRGJ

"Hello, I'm Paul Mescal. I'm here with my friends from the cast of Gladiator II" Connie and you both raise your palms to greet the camera, laughing when you realized you'd done it at the same time, "and we are going to play a game about how well we know each other for Vanity Fair" the irish man introduces the interview you're filming today.

"Did they prompt you?" Pedro speaks up, "or did you just make that up on the fly?"

You laugh a bit too loud, hoping they cut it off in the editing process.

Paul goes first, taking up a card with the first question written on it.

"Okay. Question: What's my least favorite day of the week?"

"Tuesday" answers Joseph once Paul is done reading. "Oh, you're writing it down?"

"Yeah" he answers.

"You just wrote Tuesday" Connie points out, Paul's card on his legs. You laugh along the rest.

"Yeah" he repeats laughing. "I actually, when you said Tuesday" Yeah, he said Tuesday Pedro adds on the background of laughter. "I was like...I'm gonna give everybody a point for that"

"I think I deserve a point for being observant" Connie complains.

Everyone gets a point and Paul moves towards the next question.

"What was the name of my character in Normal People?"

"Connell" both you and Joseph answer, looking at each other before squinting your eyes playfully.

"Callum" Pedro answers out loud at the same time, and you laugh. He clearly had slept when you played it for a re-watch last summer.

"No, you're out" Paul pokes Pedro next to him.

"Connel" Joseph repeats, and Fred agrees to the same answer.

Paul then asks Connie what's hers after he confirms you three.

"Connor?" she asks, confused.

"Incorrect. Three points" while pointing you three.

"You got wrong" he tells Pedro, "Callum's a different character"

"See? You just don't pay attention when you watch things" you blurt out, stopping yourself before adding the with me. It would be harder to come back from that, but so is this as everyone looks at you, even your husband, subtle panic in his eyes. Where the cameras this close? How long had you been silent?

"It's just, quick funny story" you improvise. "Pedro didn't know much about Paul's career, and as I am a fan, I took the time to show him and recommend him your stuff" Paul smiles. "Clearly, my fanatism didn't rub on Pedro but a girl can try"

He laughs, before saying "So the answer is Connell" and you try so hard to remain normal like the energy hasn't shifted.

"He only plays characters with the letter C in the name" Pedro jokes, chewing on a toothstick he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. More laughs follow, and you are so grateful for how he's handling your little metida de patada.

"What's number one on my bucket list?" he asks next, "and don't look at my answer"

The marker is the only sound to be heard, and then Pedro jokingly tries to take a peek.

"No peeking" Connie berates as Pedro laughs.

"You're not gonna be able to see that" Paul replies in an anyways tone.

You repeat the same joke, before Fred blocks you. "Not you too!"

Paul finishes after a while, Connie commenting it was long. Joseph raises his hand.

"Yes, Joseph"

"Is it to see the Great Wall of China?" he asks.

"No, but it's in that-"

"It's close, isn't it?" you interrupt.

"...family of thought" he finishes.

"It's to go and see something" Pedro points out.

"Okay. Rajasthan" tries Connie. "Go to Rajasthan, for a tour"

"Travel to South America" Paul interrupts with the correct answer, "I've never been to South America"

"I'm from South America" Pedro comments, never missing a chance to shout out his dear Chile.

Paul jokes about him getting three points while the rest of you laugh.

"I was born in South America. 17 points for Pedro"

"I want points too" you jump on the joke. "I know Spanish, so I can take you there and avoid you getting lost, mi querido amigo"

"But who was born there?" Pedro counters, "you get no points"

"I think Joseph is the only person who gets a point there" Paul adds, "because everybody just jumped on the bandwagon"

"He said to visit the Great Wall of China" Pedro protests, "which is nowhere near South America"

"It really is not" Connie agrees.

"Qué gente tan tramposa" you complain. "That's unfair. I remove my offer"

"Think about bucket list, and he came up with travel to bit" he tries to reason Joseph's point.

"And by the way, where in South America?" Pedro questions.

"Don't fight, don't fight" pleads Joseph, the calm one. Fred just sits there, enjoying the chaos.

"I want, any, I want to do a big tour of everywhere" Mescal defends himself.

Pedro doesn't back down. "'Cause it's very different"

Paul starts to get angry too. Jesus, men. Competitive men of it all.

"I know it's very different" making an annoyed face.

"Well, different is nice" you intervene, a hand placing in Pedro's left shoulder. "If you stop giving points for free, I'll come with you to the big everywhere tour"

"Alright" Paul agrees. "When's my birthday?" is the next question.

"February" all of you say.

Joseph struggles with the date first, saying seventh, then fourth. Fred tries with ninth, Pedro with eight, and then Joseph starts counting from one to two. Fred counts from eleven to twelve.

"Second" Mescal reveals. "Point to Joseph"

"Oh my God, you guys are good" Connie mentions.

"That's all my questions" and it's time to move on the next one: which happens to be your dear husband, Pedro.

"Paul is like" he brings up while the toothpick dances on his teeth, "Paul is motivated to catch up on points. He's coming for you" to pick on his competitive side as Mescal looks deep in thought.

"He's coming. He's coming" Joseph repeats as Fred laughs.

"What is my full name?"

"Oh! Pedro-" Paul tries in a blink. "Something, J? Jose? Juan?"

"Pedro Pascal, something, something" says Joseph.

"Nope"

"No?"

"Pedro Maria, Jose Maria Pascal" Paul struggles.

Pedro is about to answer when your voice cuts through the air.

"It's José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you recite.

"It indeed is!" he says, smiling a bit too much. "She gets a point"

"Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" your husband repeats in a more english-friendly pronunciation, looking at the camera while toying with his toothpick.

"I said Jose, I said Jose" Paul protests.

Pedro shakes his head. "You said Jose, but then you put it-"

Connie takes Paul's side. "You did say Jose"

"But then you put it behind Pedro which eliminate- which disqualified you" he replies.

Paul gets angry. That sore looser.

"That's absolute bullshit"

"Don't worry mate, the game has just begun" you joke, making the man more irritated. "Think you can get ahead of me?"

"Joseph is still ahead, y/n" Paul counters, still irritated. "Besides, wouldn't it be cheating? You can speak Spanish!"

"So? Not like speaking a language allows you to know every person's name Paul" you mock. He just snorts, despite still being half angry. Pedro is allowed to continue, trying not to make a face at yours and Paul's banter.

"The question is, who is my favorite actor?" he reads. As the cast members laugh, he uncaps the marker with his mouth, and now you have to try not to make a face, thinking about those teeth sinking into your flesh.

Quinn raises his hand. "It's me"

"That you're my favorite actor?"

"Yeah. You said that to me once" the bald man sounds sure of it.

Paul tries to think in the background. So do you. How can you not know this? he must've brought it up at least once.

"Do you remember?" Joseph insists.

Pedro finally remembers. "I said you were- I said I thought you were special"

"Oh" he sounds rather dissapointed.

"And special can mean a lot of things" he jokes, laughing by himself. Fred laughs with you as Joseph makes a face, your laughter turning even louder when you notice Paul all moody, trying to get this point.

"Who's your favorite actor?" Paul asks, "I think we just have to shoot from the hip here guys"

"Marlon Brando?" Connie guesses.

"Is it Harrison Ford?" Fred guesses.

"Let's go with Harrison Ford just because he's my favorite actor..."

You can't believe you didn't know this. You've re-watched and watched so many Star Wars content together. He gives you a brief look, knowing you're embarrased at your lack of answer.

"As a kid?"

"He's most influent, yeah" Pedro agrees.

"What job did I have before I became a full-time actor?" is next.

"Dancer. You were a great dancer" Paul aswers. Both Fred and Joseph repeat it, adding he was specifically a go-go dancer.

"Oh, he is" you add. "Videos of you dancing are lovely. Ever thought of getting back in the bussiness?"

He laughs, what appears to be a light blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Sure, darling. When you ask me to dance, I'll be there"

Nobody comments on this, too busy waiting for Pedro to say yes or no to the answer they believe to be right. But he isn't saying it is. Now you remember why.

"Come on, come on, come on" Paul begs.

"Can any of you guys remember?" Pedro pleads.

They insist that he danced in Spain, then New York, then settle with Spain again, even Pedro confirming so. But it still isn't the answer written on the card, no matter how much the boys insist.

"Connie?" he tries. She just looks confused.

"The answer in the card is-"

"Waiter" you answer. "You were a waiter"

Now you have three points under your belt.

"Why do you always say the answer at last?!" Paul grumbles. "You are cheating!"

"I'm not" you laugh the accusation off. "You just can't accept I'm better"

"Si que lo eres" Pedro agrees. "Es divertido hacer que se enoje Paul"

"What did you say about me? It's not fair, you're probably sharing the answers!" he's still adamant on insisting with the supposed cheating issue, making you laugh.

Now it's Connie's turn, who starts with: "How many languages do I speak?"

You put a puzzled look.

"You speak seven, eight maybe" Joseph guesses. Pauls says she speaks french, "but most likely seven"

Pedro points his finger at him. "Once he gets going, he's on a roll"

"Joe's got it" Connie agrees.

"Paul, end this reign" Pedro jokes. He looks rather frustrated.

"And the bonus points" Connie offers. "Okay, bonus, what are they?"

"This is an emperor's reign" your husband adds.

Joseph answers: Italian. Danish. English. Swedish. French. Spanish. Norwegian.

Connie agrees she speaks Spanish, making you jump in excitement.

"Oh, I didn't know that!" you beam. "Wait, does that mean you did get what Pedro and I gossiped about you?"

"What?" Joseph asks.

"Nada" you quickly correct yourself. "Yo no dije nada"

"Not that much. I just speak a bit of Spanish. I mostly dominate my own language, German and English"

"You blew our cover!" Pedro nags, hitting your bare leg, yet its devoid of anger.

"He needs a bonus" comments Connie, surprised at Joseph.

"This is horrifying" Pedro says when Joseph gets another point and a fricking bonus on top of that. "This is a slaughter"

"Oh, for which film did I have a gym built in my garage?"

Both Joseph and Paul answer the question correctly, saying Wonder Woman. The latter is quick to state they both get that point.

"That's one for me" Paul says, then looks at you. "And none for you"

You stick out your tongue at him as Connie reads the next card.

"If I were to take this cast on a vacation where would I take you?"

"Ibiza" answers Joseph. Connie agrees in Spanish, with a cute and excited correcto.

Your husband feels the need to crack a joke at Quinn's expense.

"Somebody was paying attention to Connie Nielsen very closely during the shooting of this movie"

"Okay. What is my favorite curse word in Danish?"

"Fuck" Pedro tries.

"No"

"Nobody is going to get that, Connie" Paul bickers.

"Oh, I don't know any Danish" you lament.

"At least now you know how it feels" Mescal drops, making you snort. You playfully kick him on the ribs with your shoe.

"It's very simple" Connie gives as a clue. "It's the same word in every language"

"Shit" Paul tries.

"Satan" she reveals.

Everybody is laughing in confusion at that, saying there's no way you could use that.

"Vos Satan!" Connie curses.

Now it's Fred's turn.

"What is my weirdest on-set habit?"

"I haven't noticed you do anything weird on set" Paul tells.

"I have" Pedro interrupts.

They all get on a small briefing about what could it possibly be, that it was weird, and wasn't part of his character, as you ponder. It was funny before, but now Paul is behind you by a point. So think fast.

"Yeah. I would say being yourself" Pedro jokes, but surprisingly, it works.

"Me! Five points for Pedro" he celebrates as you all laugh. "Love Fred. Oh, Fred"

"Oh, oh, okay" he moves to the next question. "What is my favorite reality TV show?"

Joseph tries with Survivor and Paul with Alone. Truth is, you don't watch any show of said kind, only vagely hearing about Love Island.

"You and I have talked about reality TV" Pedro reveals, "It's just that we never identified one"

They keep guessing shows that sound like a foreign language to you.

"You know what's offensive? That I'm the second youngest of this cast and I have no idea what are you all talking about"

"She's not to be trusted" Pascal quips, "can't trust someone who doesn't appreciate the art of reality TV"

You huff, annoyed.

"Is it A&E stuff?" Pedro asks.

"Yeah, it's the competitive cheapskates" Fred answers. "It's people that really save money on everything"

Pedro gets the point because he mentioned the A&E bit.

"There's like this amazing guy that made a stew out of fish bones, and I just thought it was incredible" he shares. Then, moves to the next question. "What is my go-to crafty snack?"

Nobody remembers eating snacks on set, and Fred gives the clue that it's a drink. Joseph says it's a smoothie, and he does remember it but it isn't the answser.

"I'm thinking of something specific. That Emerge-C that you put in the water"

"Oh, that's very good" you agree, so does the rest, even discussing the best colors

"Who in the cast would I ask to bail me out of jail?"

Everyone even Pedro agree its him. Everyone gets a point, yet Joseph remains ahead.

It's Joseph's turn. "What is my favorite sport?"

"Skateboarding" Paul is so quick to answer, earning him two points for both being correct and time.

"What celebrity do I get mistaken for?"

"Daisy Edgar-Jones sometimes" says Mescal. Of course he had to bring her up.

"No, she gets mistaken for me" Joseph jokes. "Yeah, poor Daisy. But I'm writing it down"

"That was the two letters?" Pedro notices. Still, no one gets it.

It's fucking Justin Timberlake. You'd never guess that.

"What is my favorite film franchise?"

You've probaly named all the existing franchises to no avail. You think fo your dad, a huge geek, trying to remember if there is one missing.

"Oh- Lord of the Rings!" you both answer with Paul at the same time.

"C'mon!" his celebration is short lived when he realizes you tied to him.

"What is my favorite British slang word?"

Pedro says it can't be said, but Quinn insists they can, even adding it's his favorite one too.

"We can say bad words? We can say-?" but the camera beeps over it.

The answer is Bellend. What even is that? Joseph feigns sadness and Pedro keeps apologizing, even as you sit on the chair.

"Okay. I'm last"you wiggle your eyebrows with interest. "Let's see. Okay, first question: what did I take from the Gladiator II set?"

"You took something?" Joseph asks on disbelief.

"Why wouldn't I take something?"

"Is it like an item or memorabilia?" asks Connie.

"It's an item" you uncap the marker, scribbling down the answer.

"It's a short word" Fred points out, but still can't provide a guess.

"You took the rings home" Pedro answers. You snap your had on his way, probably obvious. "What? You told me" he says.

Of course Paul complains. "Hey, that isn't fair! He knew the answer before!"

"Well, if you payed more attention to me, you'd know it"

Lies. Pedro knows because it's sitting in the jewelry box inside your house.

"See? I do pay attention" Pedro playfully hits Mescal.

"I could pay you more attention" he looks at you.

"Alright, then do. Ready? Next question: what is my go-to movie? Oh, this is a good one. I'm always changing it, but most of the time I end up choosing the same one"

They all give you a puzzled look as you scribble.

"C'mon, guys! I've said it on interviews before too. Paul?" the man shrugs. "Thought you said you'd pay me more attention. Heads up, you're doing a terrible job so far!"

"Hey!" he protests. "It's not fair if the answer's changing. Give us a clue"

"You didn't give any clues to yours!" you giggle. "Besides, I don't want you to win"

"Hey, that's against the rules!"

"I'd say it depends on the season" Pedro speaks up. You quirk an eyebrow. "Like, if it's changing, I don't think your Christmas go-to movie is the same as your summer one"

"Actually" you smile fondly, "that is true. On summer, it's Mamma Mia. So I suppose, if you can't guess the one, that'll do"

"No" he smiles, cheeky. "I know it too"

"Yeah?" you challenge, "what is it, then?"

"It's Thelma and Louise" he answers, and your heart beats fast.

"How do you know?" Paul inquires. "Somebody was paying attention to Y/n L/n very closely during the shooting of this movie"

Ah, his joke from earlier. Joseph giggles behind him. Karma, he supposes.

"She said it on an interview, guys. C'mon, learn your sources!"

"Okay" you clear your throat. "What movie got me into acting?"

"Thelma and Louise" Joseph tries.

"No" you laugh, "you're just recycling the answer"

"Is it an old or modern movie?" Connie asks.

"Hmh, old" you pause, "just not... I don't know if you'll ever guess it"

"Is it a Pedro Almodóvar film?" you shake your head. "What? You're always mentioning him!"

Pedro looks into your eyes amid the others' discussion, and you can tell he remembers the conversation.

"There isn't one"

You smile, chest pounding at his soft tone.

"That's correct"

"A trick question?!" Paul yells. "I quit"

"When there's just one left?" you tease.

"Yes, because you've been hiding it all the time but no more" he counters, pointing both you and Pedro. You feel the space getting smaller, breaths going from even to noticeable. "You are sharing answers"

You try to make your breath of relief pass as a chuckle.

"I'm not even gonna win, relax. And drop the charges, please. Loose like a man"

"You didn't explain it though" Connie speaks. "What did Pedro mean?"

"While I have many movies that are inspiration to me, they aren't the reason I chose this path. I did it because I saw an Oscar's ceremony when I was 11" you explain fondly, feeling warm at the memories. "I still remember when they handed the award to Diablo Cody for best original screenplay. I don't know, man, it moved me. What it meant for young artists who came from nothing. I guess I wanted, one day, to be the one standing there, for other dreamers to see it's possible"

"Wow, that's beautiful" Connie says.

"Thank you" you get flustered. "Suppose it was worth it, you know, to do interviews about not really knowing my cast mates" and laugh.

"How does Pedro know, though?" Joseph asks.

"We talk a lot" you clear your throat. "Last one: what indie horror movie did I make a small appearence in? I'm feeling generous because it's the last so I'll give you a clue. It's a Stephen King adaptation"

Paul is the first to speak. "You where in a-"

"Yeah but it wasn't such a huge role. Don't make yourself any ideas"

"I have no idea" Connie surrenders. "Other clue, as in how many words?"

"It doesn't even have any words" you laugh. "You give up? It's 1922. Was an extra as well. Made me think Netflix had my name highlighted in the extra call sheet, because I did so many minor and background roles during that year. Grateful, though, because now I get to be Rome's empress and not fortune teller or highschool #6"

The interview ends, and the camera may or may have not captured the last seconds, Pedro's gaze fixated with you the entire time.

elysyannemimi: we all saw that right? GET PEDRO AND Y/N IN A ROMCOM ❗THEIR CHEMISTRY IS INSANE❗ at0michips: love paul and y/n so much 😭😭 gimme enemies to lovers RN ㅤㅤbobgirllll: at0michips wait what if paul and y/n are secretly dating 😳 ㅤㅤann-gell: bobgirllll quick question are u dumb unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they're married. it has to be. trust me ㅤㅤstarlightt180: unhing3dprincess BESTIE U ARE BACK

You arrived in London today. The premiere will be in a few days, and things have been, well, hectic.

Lux couldn't stop talking all the plane ride, but your mind kept going back at the email your manager had sent you before you had boarded the plane.

It's catching upon you, read the haunting message. Attached below, a TMZ article that claimed a regular church attendee had seen you both getting married. It also used a lot of the noise fans had been making on social media, connecting dots or just hyping up the undeniable chemistry. It ended with a little paragraph saying it was obvios, and they're just hoping you'd confirmed it.

You came to realize you didn't care about it anymore. Sure, the pushing around annoyed you, but the thought of still keeping your marriage under wraps feels pointless now. Why wouldn't you shout to the world how in love with your husband you are?

Yet, when you arrive at the hotel, you keep the same protocol of arriving after Pedro, who has already checked in with two keys, claiming its for him and his sister, while you ask for the key to Lux's actual room. After you swipe cards with her, you head over the room you'd be sharing with your husband.

His face appears in your frame, everything happening quickly.

"Get inside. Now"

Your body is dragged inside the hotel room, not even giving you time to swipe the key for yourself.

"Pedro!" you exclaim, between surprised and confused. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Did you read it?"

"What? The article?" your tone is filled with annoyance. "Yes, I did. Why?"

"What do you mean why?" he snaps, voice raising higher. "Don't play dumb with me. You know fans have fuelled the rumors, and tabloids have started digging every corner in fucking California"

"So, what? You're acting as if people finding out is the worst thing in the world" you roll your eyes.

"It is, yes!" Pedro bursts out, caving in to the stress.

It feels like you've been hit across your face.

"Excuse me?" you seethe, hurt etched all across your features. "Would it be the worst thing in the world to admit you're married to the person you supposedly love the most?"

"I love you, y/n. It's just-"

His voice softens, trying to reach for you, yet you pull back, his hand falling to his side in an akward manner. He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"I love you" he repeats, sounding much more sure this time.

Your frame seems smaller as your voice comes out hoarse, filled with emotion, appearing to be in the brink of tears:

"Then why do you act like you're embarrassed of me?"

He hates himself for making you feel this way, making you think things that aren't true.

"I don't. Never" he emphasizes. Then, tries to reach once again when you move a little bit closer to him, recognizing that's your way of letting him know you're ready. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me, don't ever think the opposite" then he sighs, heavy. "I'm just scared"

You silently ask him to explain, rubbing his thumb soothingly across his tattoo.

"You're so young, and I'm, well- I know we're aware of it, but people are cruel and the press is ruthless. I don't want to see your name dragged across the mud because you decided to marry me. Your career is starting, and I'd never forgive myself is something happened to you because of me. Not trying to make this about me, yeah? But this industry is fucked up. You've work hard to get to where you are, and it'll be unfair if you'd loose it. I'm scared because us..." he wavers, words trailing off. "I want us to be. I wouldn't want to live in a world without you, i-it would kill me not to have you be my wife"

You desperately want to kiss off the worry on his face, but let him finish.

"N-not saying our love is weak, or anything! That a couple of opinions or tabloids will- you know? Just, I-I don't want them to break us apart. Mi vida, you're the light of my life. Please, forgive me, I-"

He feels his throat closing up, words failing to come out. You sense the grip on your hand to be stronger, immediately letting loose of it.

"Hey. C'mere" your voice is tender, allowing him to bury his face in your stomach as you comb his messy curls with your fingers. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere"

He lets himself melt under your touch, his mind loosing itself in the soft of your digits and your perfume up his nostrils. He's again breathing normaly, hands now hugging your waist.

"There you go. Better?" Pedro nods, still not being able to talk. "That's okay, take all the time you need. We have all day"

"Do we?" he raises his view, his eyes soft yet there is something else to the brown shade.

You hum as to nod. "We agreed to join Lux for dinner. It's barely 1pm"

"Tell me you're thinking it too" his voice cuts throughout the air, boucing off the tapestry on the walls.

You laugh, nervously. "I don't think I do"

"Hmmh, I see" he stands up, towering over you. "You sure you don't?"

"You sure you want this?"

Before you know it, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, cutting off all words to be said. What a waste of air, anyway. You are quick to reciprocate, whimpering against his lips.

Pedro picks you up like you're as light as a feather, his arms flexing as he carries you and places you on the bed, frame hovering over yours. He breaks the kiss to breath, but you're pulling him back in, his hold on your hips tighter and the wet spot in your panties wetter.

"Look at you, pretty baby. So needy" he whispers against your face, hot breath lingering above your lips. "And mine. Mía. Only mine"

"I am, yes. Yours only. Need you so bad right now, papi" you answer in a rush. "Now shut up and fuck me"

"Con gusto" he chuckles darkly, "gotta keep the wife happy"

"Happy wife, happy life" you recite, stripping him off of his plain shirt, revealing his toned torso, bulging biceps defined by the movements. You gulp. "Fuck, papi. Gotta thank Marvel for this. I love all of your versions, but I can work with this too" you dreamily stare at him, your hands cupping his face.

He strips the rest of his clothing, but a cute blush adorns his cheeks.

"Yeah, well, it's Scott's fault too"

Your impatient fingers reach the middle of your panties to rub your clothed pussy, letting out a sound that darkens his hazel orbs.

"Fuck that guy" you mutter. Pedro laughs.

"Thought you said you loved the guy"

"Until I learned what he said about your body" you groan, still rubbing. "Connie told me"

His hands now travel to remove your clothes, almost ripping them off.

"Who cares? I just want to fuck you now" he breathes out, practically drooling at the sight of your damp panties. "Lemme take this off too"

He unhooks your bra, seeing the hard nipples. The urge to lick them is so bad, but his desire to fill you silly to the brim is stronger.

You see his hesitation, which is why you grab him by the neck to pull him in for a kiss. He kisses back fiercely, labored breaths as he struggles to focus on your lips, his wet mouth darting to your jaw, neck and collarbones. His hands roam all over your body, needy.

"Gotta be inside of you, mami. Can't wait any longer"

"Then stop waiting" you plead, tugging at his boxers with urgency.

Seeing you so cockhungry, lips parted and pupils blown wide makes his hard dick twitch with anticipation.

He mutters a labored fuck, aligning himself to enter your sticky folds. Pedro enters your tight pussy with a low groan, burying himself deep inside of you, used to his length by now. You're basically begging for it, nails digging and eyes supplicating.

He can't deny you anything, can he?

A messy whine leaves your widened mouth as you adjust, pleasure mixed with pain.

"Mhmm" you moan.

"Mhmm what?" he mocks. "You asked for it. Now take it, cariño"

He thrusts deeper into you, watching in awe how his dick enters your pussy; it was always perfectly, your pussy made for him.

"You're drippin' baby" his rough voice caresses your cheek. He kisses the are, giving a lick to the sweat starting to form. "S'fucking tight too"

You move your hips towards him, trying to augment the friction. The overstimulation starts to cloud your sense, reducing you to a whiny mess as you grip his steady arms.

"I can't think of anything but you, baby" he confesses between grunts, "filling up your pussy to the brim, you dripping with my seed for days"

You moan at the filthy words.

"Love how you take my dick, amor" stretching you as Pedro moves in and out. "S'made for me"

"Yes" you moan, skin slapping sounds bouncing off the walls. "Fuck, I love your dick..."

His pace picks up, and it comes to a point where he's just fucking you silly, his grip on your hips surely to leave a bruise as you keep spilling obscene sounds of pleasure from your lips.

"Your pussy's mine, yeah? No one else gets to have you like this"

"N-no, just you, Pedro. My h-husband" you manage to squeeze, more moans vocalizing the pleasure you felt with each thrust, his big dick inside of you moving in a a steady rhythm, making your eyes roll back further and orgasm closer.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, and he finds impossible to resist the urge anymore, licking the sensible skin and hard nipples, your hands moving to his back, scratching him harshly, both chasing your release.

"Please!" you whine out loud, not caring how desperate you sound.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

But your husband knows you, so he indeed starts to fuck you harder, heavy breaths and slippy kiss noises hanging in the spaces between each thrusts. He pants with every motion of his dick, a knot forming on his belly.

"Shit, baby. I think I'm gonna cum. Gonna come so hard"

"Do it. I'm on birth control, remember?" you groan, feeling your high approach as well. "Fill me up, please. Give me all your cum"

Your bodies move as one, precise thrusts hitting exactly that sweet spot of yours repeatedly, chasing your orgasm. For a brief moment, your eyes lock with his and then he's saying:

"I love you, y/n. So much"

Your heart skips a bit, his dick twitching inside as his gaze glimmers with adoration and possesiveness, teeth grazing your skin with marks for him to call you his.

"I love you too, Pedro. More than you know"

A final thrust is delivered. Fuck, feels so good you think you hear him say. Just like promised, he fills you with his release, shots of his thick, warm cum inside your sticky walls. You follow soon, back arching, toes curling, and both head and eyes rolling back. Pedro falls on top of you, his broad body collapsing over yours, as you both pant hard, trying to steady your pulse and breath. He then removes himself and positions you to be the one on top now, lazily throwing the covers over your bare bodies. We need to shower, you said, but he argued you'd do it later before going out.

"I needed that" and you happily hum in agreement at your husband's dragged out words.

Your head falls and rises, with the movement of his chest, silence settling on the previously filled with sex noises room. That until he speaks up:

"One day, I'm gonna fill you up so good until you have my babies, mami" he murmurs, just then realizing what he said. But you snuggle closer, hand and legs drapped over his bare body. You look at him closely, seeing nothing but certainty on his eyes.

I choose you. I'll always choose you.

"Whatever it is with you" your nose brushes his, a small sweet kiss on his lips, "I want"

His eyes shine, probably with tears or the glow of affection.

"Let's do it"

"What?" you look into his eyes for any sign of doubt, bull all you see is love. "Pedro, are you serious?"

He nods. "Wouldn't you want that?"

You feel the corner of your lips pull up.

"Never have I wanted anything more"

poppysplayground: Y/N AND PEDRO RED CARPET DEBUT AT THE LONDON PREMIER OF GLADIATOR II WTF I JUST WOKE UP ptwt is in SHAMBLES mostannoyingbillioner: UM HELLO pedro showing up with two hot women on his arms LUX GIMME A CHANCE pompeiianbollockr: WAIT WDYM THEY ARE MARRIED?!??! ALL THIS TIME?@?#? HOW???! NEED BIGGER CAPS TO SCREAM I'M GOING INSANE at0michips: that article better come out now or i'll burn the TMZ building ann-gell: not me thirsting for a married man 😭😭😭 how they kept this a secret for so long?? we should've noticed ㅤㅤunhing3dprincess: ann-gell i did. knew betting my grandma was the way all along ㅤㅤpyramiidsf: i'm gonna start betting my grandma too

#dilfistwrites #gladiator II #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #taylor swift #reputation #call it what you want #paul mescal #call it what you want series

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laudofthedeep · 1 year ago

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y’know. ive met people smarter than me. ive met people wiser than me. ive met people both smarter and wiser than me, and im proud to call a few of them my friends. but i dont think ive met anyone more content than me

#is the world perfect? no #am i always happy? no #do i wish i could change how things work? often #and yet despite it all i am content. i am fulfilled #i have several good friends. i have multiple hobbies i enjoy.#i have a job that makes me happy and allows me to support myself #(i do not dream of labor but unfortunately i do live in the world)#i don’t really want anything. im just. chillin #that ol’ needs pyramid? full as shit

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shadowbriar · 6 months ago

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Five Hargreeves - Back To You

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.8k Warning : Angst. Season 4 references. Synopsis : After one too many subway trips, Five's plan of temporal refuge extended as he met someone he refuse to lose. Notes : I refuse to acknowledge what happened in Episode 5 and 6 though I use the gif of said episodes. Don't come at me if you don't agree. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Living in a small cottage by the lake has never been in his cards. To settle down and watch the sun sets everyday, hearing the rocking chair creak as he takes a sip of his coffee. This was beyond anything he could ever hoped for, anything he could afford. He knew that this wasn’t the life he’s supposed to lead. Lord, this wasn’t even a life he owns to begin with. But with each second passed in this universe, Five finds it hard to drag himself back to that subway and return to his own timeline.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” She whispers as she sits on his lap, clinging her arms around his neck “You know, I could really use the help stuffing that chicken. It is afterall your special request.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t I be off of any chores since it is my special request?”

“Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you’re having a vacation, big guy,” She reasoned “We’ve only got two hands and this house is only getting bigger than smaller.”

The boy couldn’t bite his grin when he leaned in to kiss her. His heart swells. She was right. The house feels like it’s growing along with them. They might not have much, certainly far from the wealth his father possesses, but it was much more than enough. Having her was much more than enough.

“You know that I love you, right?” Five asks as he pulls away, his left hand still cupping her cheek as his thumb caresses her gently.

“I know,” She nods, smiling “But you can’t sweet talk your way out of kitchen duty, Mister.”

Five chuckles, standing from his seat as he carried her in his arms, “Alright, Missy, let’s see what this chicken fuss is all about.”

—-

The muscles on his cheeks were aching but he couldn’t fight the need to grin as wide as he could. He was happy, watching her carry that awful looking cake out of the oven. The icing that supposedly spelled ‘happy birthday’ was crooked, its colour pale compared to the bright fondant covering it. Thank God the candles were their only source of light, otherwise she wouldn’t even bring it out, he reckons.

“It’s ugly, I know,” She says as she lets it rest on the table “But it tastes better than it looks, I promise.”

Five shakes his head, disagreeing with her discouraging comments as he steals a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, go on and make a wish!”

The boy closes his eyes. His hands holding hers as he whispers his wish: I wish for this to last forever. Her squeals of excitement was music to his ears as he blew the candles. It is indeed the best birthday of his life.

“I’d ask but I know you wouldn’t tell me your wish.”

“Who said I made any wish?”

“You did,” She says as she helps him cut the cake “You make that little frown everytime you say your little prayer, do you know that?”

“I don’t pray, Love.”

“You do. Well, not religiously, but sometimes you do. You say your little prayer, your hopes. You whisper them sometimes, but most times you just close your eyes and do that little frown thing.”

Five raised an eyebrow, “Have you been watching me?”

“I might,” She teases “I mean who wouldn’t watch such a handsome man like you?”

The night continues as the couple finishes their dinner. Fulfilled would be such an understatement for what he feels right now. Everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of, is served right in that room. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“So can I take a guess about what you wished for?”

“Really, Love?” He asked, putting down his glass of wine.

She shrugs, “We’ve talked about everything else, haven’t we?”

“You know, there’s a belief that if you say your prayers, it won’t happen.”

“Well, you’re not saying what it was, I’m just taking a guess what it’s about.” She argues, still persistent “And what’s so bad with it not happening? Do you really want it that bad?”

“I— Nothing, I just don’t—”

“What is it that you could wish for? What is it that you don’t have?”

“Nothing, I’m not saying that I want anything, I just—”

“Is it your family?”

Five pauses. It was as if he was stupefied. He hadn’t thought about his family in a while. Shameful of him, sure, but after one too many subway trips, he figured that a little rest shouldn’t be so bad. He just had to find a timeline where there weren't that many people shooting at him. Perhaps take a week or two to rest and gather his strength before jumping into another subway.

It just had to be her. The girl he bumped into right after he got out of the station. He remembers vividly the concerned look on her face when she saw him. He was littered with bruises, dirt and dust covering his body. He looked more like trouble than a lover yet she still found it in her heart to ask if he needed any help.

And here he was, feeling the happiness in his heart wither as the thought of his family returned to his consciousness. He knew that the universe is cruel, that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds in this lifetime, that he had to choose between his lover or his family. Some nights he wonders if his family had succeeded in preventing another apocalypse without him. Some nights he wonders if his family had found a way to another timeline. Some nights he wonders if his family were still alive. But most nights he tried his best to ignore these wonders. His family must have found a way to stop the apocalypse, or at least escape another one.

Taking a deep breath, Five reaches for her hands. Guilt and regret were evident on her face. He knew that she didn’t mean to sound as cruel. Perhaps it was the wine that made their blood more sensitive or that the fatigue of the day had clouded their minds. Either way he knew that they both would be sorry when the morning came.

“I love you,” He starts gently “I love you more than anything in this and every timeline.”

A tear left her eye. It was painful. To love someone you know doesn’t belong to you. To desperately grasp into the moments you knew would end anytime soon. To selfishly stay in a relationship that was doom from the start. Neither of them deserved this, yet neither of them wanted to let go.

“It’s been six years, Five,” She reasoned “As much as I love you.. We can’t keep living like this.”

“Time works differently there, my love. Six years here might only mean a couple hours there.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong for you to stay. Those couple hours might be the most crucial hours for your family. They might be fighting for their lives right now, they might be dying, for all we know! You need to come back to them, Five. You have to.”

Five forces a laugh, “Wait, what are you saying?”

She remained silent. Her tears were falling, biting her lips to conceal her tremble. A bitter feeling is brewing in his stomach now.

“Your family needs you and—”

“Okay, stop,” He stood from his seat with an offended look “Are you breaking up with me? On my birthday?”

She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Goodness, you can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have, Five? One way or another, you’d have to go back to your family. They need you—”

“And you? You don’t need me anymore?”

Her jaw clenches, “That’s beside the point.”

“No, that is the whole point, actually,” He argues, this time coming close to her “I love you, alright? Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with the person that I love? I’ve lived more than a lifetime alone, why can’t I have someone for once?”

“You don’t belong in this timeline. I—”

“I belong with you,” He cuts in “It’s not the timeline that matters, it’s where you are. I belong with you.”

If there’s anything she loves most about Five other than his gentle and caring nature towards her, it would be how adamant he is once he’s set his mind into something. There’s no doubt in her heart about the genuinity of his words. But as much as she’s grateful and touched over it, she knew that they could only spend so long before the guilt eats them whole.

She lets go of his hands softly, placing them on his cheeks instead. She admires him. The beautiful man that’s now standing in front of her with his heart on his sleeves, announcing his devotion to her on the day when he’s supposed to be the one showered with attention and love. His eyes were glossy, clearly conflicted.

“I love you, Five,” She whispers, gently caressing his skin as if it was their last goodbye “But I can’t keep you here, I can’t. I can’t keep you from your family.”

Five looks defeated, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to them? If they’re okay? If they’ve figured out how to stop the apocalypse? Don’t you want to know?”

“I— I don’t know.” He answers “What I know is that I want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Love,” She reassures, kissing his cheek “I might not understand how this whole different timelines work, but I know that whichever timeline it is, whatever universe we live in, I will always belong to you. I will always be with you.”

And he finally cries. His tears flowing and wetting her palms. His heart shatters, finally succumbing to the guilt he’s tried so hard to bury and forget. He misses his family, he wanted so badly to get back and pick up where he left off, but would it be worth it? Would leaving everything here be worth it? Would leaving her be worth it?

“We’ll find our way,” She reassures, pulling the broken man into her embrace “You’ll find me in your timeline. Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store, or at a bar, or perhaps at another train station.”

Five chuckles a little, letting a shaky breath as he asks, “And if we don’t?”

“We will,” She says firmly, giving a little space between them so they could gaze into each other’s face “I’m too much of a troublemaker and you’re too much of a problem solver for us to not meet. It’ll be too hard to ignore each other with our nature, Love. We’re bound to meet each other, in any timeline, in any universe. Trust me.”

The boy forces a smile. He leans in, kissing his lover gently as if she’d burst into petals if he pushed too much. Her hold around his neck feels different. Like she wasn’t looking for support but giving one instead. He could feel her trembling a little as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. Her heart is breaking too, as much as his is, but they knew that it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before time pulls them apart and it certainly would be much more painful then.

“I’ll find you,” He whispers “I promise.”

—-

Canada is certainly much colder than home. Five rubs his hands and blows some air to his palms in hope to gain some warmth, but it’s obvious that the only comfort he’ll find in this weather is to get in Viktor’s bar and ask for some drink. That is, if Diego could start the car and get them going.

“It says here that Viktor’s bar is only five minutes by foot,” Klaus says “Who wants to run to the bar with me?”

“No one is getting out of this car!” Diego says in frustration, irritatedly trying his best to start the engine “We’re going to get to his bar together, in this car. That’s the whole point of a family road trip. We go to the bar by car, not by foot!”

“Yes, but it’s freezing here, Diego! The heater is not even on!” Alison argues.

“Well, it won’t be unless the engine is on.”

“No shit, Luther,” Ben says “I vote to run.”

Lila raises her hand, “Second to run.”

“No! No one is getting out of this car!” Diego yells once more, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly “I just need to—”

And by God’s miracle, the engine turns back on. Though their trip would soon reach its main destination, the bicker done by the family persists. The coldness of Canadian weather and how the heater broke almost twenty kilometres ago has made the seven heads’ temper raise. They really need to get to Viktor’s bar before they start to kill each other.

“I’m out of here,” Five announce as the car gets into the parking space of the bar. He space jumped inside, finding himself on one of the empty stools “Good to see you, Viktor.”

“Five,” VIktor greets, a little startled but his smile grows “You’re here. Where are the others?”

“Still figuring their way out to get here. Can I get whiskey on rocks?”

“On it.”

Five taps on the wooden table as he waits for his drink. His heart was content, as much as it might mean now. Their plan to stop the apocalypse worked. Viktor managed to take the marigold off of Ben before the Cleanse happened and now they’re trying to get back or rebuild their life. For once they finally managed to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Right after they succeeded in preventing the cleanse, Five found himself running to the subway station. He could still feel his feet burning from how fast he tried to get back to the station, wanting to jump in the train and go back to her timeline, but once he got there, the station vanished. There was no trace of it, no matter how many times he tried to run around and look for it. The subway is gone. She is gone.

Perhaps it was the price he has to pay for saving the universe. One’s happiness in exchange for the lives of millions doesn’t seem to be a hard sacrifice to make, but it’s still a tough pill for him to swallow. He knew that she would be proud. That she would hug and kiss him for doing all the hard work in saving the world. But the more he thinks about it, the more it stings for such touch would only be as good as a dream now.

“You ordered whiskey on rocks?” A voice asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

Five’s mouth went agape. He couldn’t tell if he was daydreaming or if this was some sick new power he gained from the marigold, but she was there. Standing right in front of him with a glass of whiskey in her hand.

“Viktor said his brother ordered whiskey on rocks, I assume that’s you?”

“I— Uh, yes,” He stammers, getting off the stool “You’re here.”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. In his heart he knew that they would meet again, that somehow the universe would let him keep both her and his family, but he never expected that it was true. He never expected that he would meet her again. Not this fast, not this way.

“Sorry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Five said, shaking his head and taking the glass “Thank you.”

The girl smiles. It was a different smile than what he’s used to seeing. There wasn’t much love in her eyes, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. The girl he’s staring at and his lover might be the same person but she’s yet to know him here. She’s yet to know that he’s hers. She’s yet to know that he loves her. She’s yet to know that he belongs to her.

“Sorry, but have we met before?” She asks, still staring back at him “You look very familiar.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” He lied, offering his hand “I’m Five. Five Hargreeves. Viktor’s brother.”

She took his hand, telling him her name, “I didn’t know Viktor had a baby brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really his baby brother. It’s— It’s complicated.” Five could feel his cheeks burning like a little boy, bashful “It’s a long story.”

“You mind telling me about it?” She asks, leaning on the table “I’ve got time. I love hearing stories.”

“I know you do,” He says with a big smile “Well, where do I start..”

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves angst #five hargreeves fluff #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x oc #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves scenario #five hargreeves scenarios #five hargreeves oneshot

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salemlunaa · 8 months ago

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VOID STATE: MAYBE JUST RELAX FIRST?

remove all that weight off your shoulders ᥫ᭡

For those using the void to shift to their perfect life and losing motivation I wanted to give you an idea: I want you to try for the void, but not with the intention of manifesting anything, just do it as a form of relaxation and meditation. You can enter the void and I know that you can. But putting the void on a pedestal is what keeps you from it, you may be denying those claims and think you don’t hold the void to such a high standard. But wait, wait, wait, lemme tell you something:

the void is an amazing way to manifest, everyone knows that, it’s 10000% guaranteed that you will get all that you wish for in the void, you can change your genetics, the structure of your face, heal sickness, have as much money as you want with just one trip to the void. And it seems to good to be true, it’s a golden ticket for you to do ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING you want. And knowing that you have many desires to fulfil in the void and you have unknowingly put a lot of weight on your shoulders as you feel like you need to enter the void to get all that you want.

That pressure isn’t healthy which is why i recommend going to the void just for relaxation purposes at first, tell your brain that you aren’t worried about your dreams for now and just want to try the void as a normal, standard meditation. With the pressure out the window you are guaranteed the void.

You can remember your desires in the void and be like “hold up, lemme cook” or you may feel so taken aback and in awe that you could just sit in the void for some minutes and eventually snap out of it. And that’s okay, because you can use that void experience to fuel your confidence on the void in general. And you can use that confidence that you got from going in to simply relax, take that confidence and get to the void a second time for your desires.

RELIEVING THE PRESSURE WILL MAKE THINGS 100x EASIER, GIVE IT A SHOT LOVE 🦕💋

#salemlunaa #shiftblr #permashifting #reality shifting #shifting #law of assumption #loa #success story #void state #the void #void concept #respawning #desired reality #void state tips #the void state #voidstate #manifesting #lucid dreaming #shifters

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solxamber · 28 days ago

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Valentines day event woowoowoo (dont burn yourself out aye!!)

Idia, romantic, "absolutely smitten" by Dodie (if i got that right-) :]

Hope it could be a fun one ! Stay safe ayeaye

i love the pining potential in the song!!! hope you like my interpretation of it <3

"I'm absolutely smitten" || Idia Shroud

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Absolutely Smitten by Dodie

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 670

𝐓𝐚𝐠��: Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers

Idia first sees you during orientation. Not in person, of course—there’s no way he’d willingly subject himself to a room full of loud, unpredictable people—but through his tablet, streaming the event from the safety of his dorm.

It’s routine, really, just scoping out who he’ll inevitably be avoiding for the next few years. But then the camera pans across the crowd, and he sees you.

And something unfamiliar stirs in his chest.

It’s a strange, unquantifiable feeling, something too big for him to handle, too much for his ribs to cage in. His fingers tighten around the tablet as he watches you smile at something someone says, and a thought creeps into his brain before he can stop it.

I wish that were me.

It’s over for him. Absolutely, completely, no-respawn doomed.

And when he actually gets to know you? Oh, he’s done for. Every interaction with you is a critical hit to his heart. You are bright where he is shadowed, warm where he is cold, a force of nature where he is content to be static.

And yet, somehow, you seem to like being around him. You talk to him, seek him out, sit with him even when he fumbles through his words and hides behind his hood.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Idia Shroud, the ghost of Ignihyde, the one who would rather face a boss battle on the highest difficulty than make eye contact with another human being, wants nothing more than to be close to you.

He wants to talk to you about everything that makes his mind race at 3 AM, wants to know what makes you tick, wants to kiss you until he forgets what loneliness feels like.

But he can’t. Because you are you, and he is him, and the idea of ruining what he has with you is a fear greater than any horror game could ever conjure.

So he does nothing. He pines. He wonders.

Are you just being nice?

Would you ever see him that way?

Is he even worth your time?

And yet, he doesn’t know that you are just as smitten.

The day you met him is engraved in your brain like a prophecy fulfilled. You think he’s the one. It sounds ridiculous, impossibly romantic, something straight out of a visual novel, but you can’t shake the feeling that you and Idia are meant to be.

And so, one day, when you’re sitting next to him in his room—shoulders almost touching, his leg bouncing like a loading screen buffering at 99%—you slide a little closer.

“Idia.”

He stiffens. “W-what?”

“I like you.” A pause. “I really like you.”

His brain blue-screens.

You barely have time to process his expression—wide golden eyes, parted lips—before he starts tearing up.

“Wait, wait, are you okay?” You panic, reaching for him, but he shakes his head rapidly, hands clutching his hoodie like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

“You—” His voice cracks. “You actually—?”

You nod. “I mean, yeah. Kinda thought it was obvious.”

Obvious? Obvious? He’s been agonizing over this for months, drowning in his feelings, convinced you were nothing more than a dream he was too scared to wake up from. And yet, here you are, looking at him like he’s the greatest thing to ever happen to you.

He doesn’t know what to say. But you do.

So you pull him into a hug, letting him bury his face in your shoulder as he trembles. His hands hover before finally clutching the fabric of your shirt, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tightly.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Idia feels whole.

He pulls back slightly, and when he looks at your soft smile, something inside him clicks into place. He’s never letting you go.

And when you look at his teary-eyed grin, you think the same thing.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

#ˋ°•*⁀➷ valentine's event #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #idia shroud x reader #twst idia #idia x reader #idia shroud #idia

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yandere-romanticaa · 15 days ago

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ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔈𝔠𝔥𝔬. - 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓.

❝ your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine, but i wish I was dead. ❞ - dark paradise, lana del rey.

yandere! honkai star rail men. (ana's faves edition.)

❦ Just a little post of my faves on why they love you! I've always been a fan of Valentine's Day because I always have, and always will be a proud Lover Girl™!

❧ 𝔧𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔲𝔞𝔫.

The tender eyed general can name a plethora of things that he loves about you... As a matter of fact, he could spend centuries just sitting in his ravishing garden, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of divine blossoms as he lists the qualities that he finds oh so endearing and appealing.

Frankly, that level of lovesick is a smidge maddening to some people. Others find the general's devotion incredibly charming. It's really a matter of perspective when you think about it.

However, all of his endless praise can be summed up to one thing in particular. You give him a sense of peace.

Pray tell, how many centuries of suffering has Jing Yuan endured? Well, it's difficult to pinpoint because the man is beyond adept at keeping his feelings in check, let alone actually revealing what makes him lose sleep at night. Jing Yuan has lost so much. He has endured far, far too much than one man ought to.

He may be a general, a warrior, a leader - but even he had his own dreams. His own ambitions. All of which became lost to time, strife and duty.

And all of his pain, all of the ache he feels in his shoulders simply melts away whenever you sit by his side. He is no better than a massive, spoiled house cat who just wishes to eat fine treats and be spoiled by your endless love and devotion.

If he could pick how he could die, all Jing Yuan would ever want is to be in your arms. His heart would be still, calm... The tranquility is just so heavenly, however could he give up on such a feeling?

❧ 𝔧𝔦𝔞𝔬𝔮𝔦𝔲.

Life is a strange road to trek on. You never really know what sort of perils you could come across. That was what made things so fun, Jiaoqiu would reckon.

Even if he no longer had the ability to actually see that road anymore...

The foxian was at least happy to know that his other senses had not been dulled thanks to his unfortunate predicament. He may be blind but he was not weak. He was too stubborn for that. Jiaoqiu still wished to fulfill his duty until the bitter end, no matter what the cost.

Stubbornness and an iron clad will can only get you so far though, especially if your body fails to cooperate. His spirit may be strong but his body simply is not.

And you would be there to hold his hand to tell him that it was all going to be alright.

As Jiaoqiu would break into massive coughs, his body giving into the horrible pain, he was still so happy to see that even after everything, you were still there for him.

Your loyalty had remained unshaken.

However could he thank you for this?

He was going to do everything he can to protect you, to love you in the way you deserve to be loved. Just thinking about you made his weak heart feel stronger again...

❧ 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔶.

To be loved is to be heard. And to be heard is simply the greatest gift in the universe.

For as long as he could remember, that was all Sunday did. He would sit patiently as the person on the other side would tell him their biggest secrets, reveal their darkest sins. He had lost count of how many deplorable and depressing things he has heard throughout the years.

It had never even occurred to him that perhaps, he too needed to unveil his own darkness to another.

Without meaning to, he caved into that weakness. He did not even know that he had such a weakness. It was his job to listen, his job to guide, his job to be true. Even after joining the Astral Express, the least he could do was to hear the crew out on their many woes.

And yet, without any real effort, you had managed to break down his walls. You had shattered him for an evening, allowing him to speak his mind.

For the first time in forever, Sunday had been heard. He choked back the sobs, tried to bite down his despair but it was all pointless. All he had to do was to just look into your eyes and he was just so done. You held him like no one ever had, made him feel so vulnerable and weak but oh so happy.

Can you blame the poor little soul for becoming so attached to you after such an incident?

❧ 𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔬𝔫.

Everyone wants to be a hero.

In one way or the other, most - if not all - people wish to be acknowledged. They wish to hear the praise of their peers, they wish to know that they're doing good. Besides, being a hero has so many perks. People love you, they trust you.

And that same love is a shackle which you can't break out of.

That was how Phainon felt. He had no right to feel scared, he did not have the luxury of bowing out of a battle. If someone even suggested such an idea to him, Phainon would just let out a hearty laugh, his Adam's apple going up and down as his blue eyes shined bright with determination, the grip on his sword steady and more than ready to strike down his foes.

You knew better than to fall for that trick. Even with all that bravado, you could still sense the tiny quiver in his voice. You could see from the corner of your eye how his thighs shake ever so slightly.

Phainon was afraid. And once you had him cornered, you confronted him. Underneath the bright Okhema sky, you told him that it was alright to be terrified. That it was alright to have second doubts. That it was alright to be angry.

He may be a hero but he was still just a man.

And it was in that moment that Phainon realized that there was no need to keep up his hero facade with you. That he could just... be himself. Naturally, he was still cheerful, goofy and silly - teasing you was just too much fun.

But there was just a certain level of trust he felt. He knew that you would never judge him no matter what he did. Phainon was so happy to know that he had a sanctuary in your arms.

A dark corner of his heart trembled at the thought of losing that sanctuary. May the Titans bless him because he did not know what he would do if he lost you...

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cumironi · 7 months ago

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OH, I'M DESTROYED : GOJO SATORU

he's your best friend— gojo satoru, he's getting married soon with kids on the way even though your heart is craving for each other, you sarcastically, jokingly tell him, “pleased? oh, I'm destroyed,” after hearing the news, he laughed, almost crying as he looks at you.

w/c. 3,4k

warning : non-sorcerer! gojo satoru. little bit angst. (idk)

p.s. when i said the reader didn't believe in god it's just for writing purposes, i, myself too believe in god. this fiction is inspired by one day series episodes 8? I forget.

“y/n, can we talk?”

there he is, satoru gojo— your bestfriend, your other half, your oasis in the desert, your everything. standing with two of his warm, delicate hands stuffed into his pocket. a warm smile makes themselves home on his handsome face. his blue eyes— satoru gojo’s blue eyes, shimmered like the clearest ocean on a sunlit day, mesmerizing depths promising thousand, endless even, unspoken emotions.

each glance felt like being wrapped in the gentle embrace of a summer breeze, full of warmth and tender affection. his eyes held a universe of mystery and allure, making it impossible to look away, as if they whispered secrets of love and devotion only meant for you— hah, you wish’ you thought.

“sure,” you smile.

your hands gripping the bouquet tightly, so tight the spine cuts through your finger without you realizing. you two walk side by side into the maze behind the chapel where suguru geto and shoko ieiri weddings are held, yours and gojo’s other friends. you refuse to look at him, sparing the man a glance that feels strange after all those two years living your life with no contact from him, neither do you try to reach him, at least not after the fight you have that night.

“how are you doing, y/n?”

the simple question lingers through the air for quite a time when the two enter the maze. your silken hair is pretty, falling gently, enchanting, on your back, touching the soft material of your bridesmaid dress, a blue one, the same color as his eyes— oh, his eyes.

you look to your left to fulfill the starving of your heart, take a glimpse by a glimpse of his frame. two years was too long without seeing those pretty eyes, those warm smiles, those pretty long white lashes, those . . . no, just him.

“it was fine,” lied, of course.

you couldn’t find the courage to pour your heart out, you wouldn’t dare. you wouldn’t dare to tell your best friend how much the longing, how thousand days and nights, and each time you closed your eyes there he was before you, standing in the void inside your dream, how he all of the other people the one who you falling into the abyss to.

“turn right?”

you only nodded, his palm barely touched your lower back and your breath was already prepared to leave your body only for it to come back the second gojo pulled his hand away. the two of you sat on the concrete bench, nailed in the middle of the maze. under the moonlight, the soft glow casting a magical aura around you. the silvery light made gojo’s eyes come alive, no longer hidden behind the black glasses he once wore so often.

his striking blue eyes shone with an ethereal brilliance, reflecting the moon’s gentle radiance. his white locks shimmered like strands of stardust, adding to his otherworldly beauty. in that moment, with the moonlight dancing on his features, he looked more breathtaking than ever, a living embodiment of celestial grace and charm. the night seemed to hold its breath, as if time itself paused to admire the sheer beauty of the scene, leaving you both enveloped in a cocoon of serene enchantment.

he is as beautiful as ever, as breathtaking as you can remember— that’s how you always saw him.

oh, but how gojo wishes you could see the way he sees you. sitting before him, his oh-so-called-bestfriend, his unwavering rock, his compass, and how sometimes— no, every time, it’s just ‘his’.

under the moonlight, with its silvery beams casting a soft glow around you, in the heart of the maze where the world feels like a distant dream, it’s just the two of you. the stillness of the night amplifies the beauty of the moment, every shadow and glint of light painting a picture of serene intimacy. here, in this secluded sanctuary, surrounded by the whispering leaves and the cool night air, the universe narrows to the space between you.

gojo looks at you, his eyes filled with a tender intensity, wishing you could see yourself as he does—captivating, radiant, and indispensable. in this moment, under the tranquil moonlit sky, you are his everything, the silent heartbeat of his existence, the unspoken song of his soul.

“you know,” you say, breaking the silence, “i never thought we’d end up here again. thought you’d be too busy saving the world or something,” you throwing the man side glance, a little smirk playing on your lips.

gojo chuckles, the sound light and familiar. he brings the glass of almost-finished wine to his lips, takes a sip before answering, “and i thought you’d be too busy being mad at me forever,” he jokingly smiled at you.

you roll your eyes, the smirk turns into a smile, tugging at your lips. “well, you did deserve it. you were being insufferable,” you laugh a little. and without you notice, it caught gojo by surprise, a little. two years long he survived with hearing your little giggle— giggle for me, again’ he thought. eyes fixed to you as he takes another sip, smiling.

he smirks, leaning back on his hands. “insufferable? that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” your head slightly shook, “nope, just accurate,” you retort, popping the ‘p’ as you nudging his shoulder playfully. “you have a way of getting under people’s skin, you know.”

“oh, come on,” he protests, a teasing glint in his eyes. “you know you missed me. admit it.”

“missed you?” you asked, giving the man a glimpse of ‘knowing look’ before smiling, “more like missed having someone to argue with,” you reply, though there’s a softness to your words. you glance at him again, the moonlight making his blue eyes shimmer like twin stars. “it’s been quiet without you around.”

he laughs, the sound echoing in the quiet night. “same old you. always ready with a comeback.”

“and same old you, always thinking you’re the center of the universe,” you quip, though your tone is softer now, the old familiarity seeping back. “well, i am pretty important,” he says with a wink, but then his expression turns more serious. “i’m sorry, you know,” his eyes moving slowly, looking for your expression, “for what happened. i never wanted to hurt you.”

for the second time, you nodded your head, eyes focusing on your laps. you finish the rest of the wine on your glass before putting the glass down on the bench and look at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “i know, satoru. i’m sorry too. i shouldn’t have walked away like that.”

he reaches out, taking your hand in his. the hands he always wants to hold, straving even. the hands that always perfectly fits with his like a puzzle, the warm, your pulse hitting your soft skin a little harder every time he holds it— oh, how he loves the feeling. “we both made mistakes. but we’re here now. can we start over?” you squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch. “yeah, i’d like that.”

he grins, the mischievous spark back in his eyes. “good. because i’ve got two years of teasing to make up for.” you laugh, shaking your head as your brain begging you to let go of his hands, so you did.

shaking your head slightly, you scoff, “bring it on, gojo. i’m ready.”

he shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “you know, i really did miss you. it wasn’t the same without my best friend around.”

best-friend, fucking hate that word’ you thought.

you look at him, the honesty in his words melting away the last remnants of your anger and blossoming the garden of regret and sadness you used to grow, still. “i missed you too,” you smile so little, just like how your feelings made you feel right now. “more than i wanted to admit,” you added, jokingly.

gojo chuckles softly. “well, lucky for you, i’m back now. and i’m not going anywhere.”

please don’t— you want to beg him, wishing he wouldn’t make any promises, you hope he would go anywhere. at least until these feelings start to leave your body, faded, disappearing like whispers on the wind.

but you smile because feeling a sense of peace settles over you. “good,” you lie to yourself. “because i don't think i could handle losing you again,” it was a pleasure to be burn for gojo satoru, it was always a pleasure.

he looks at you, his eyes filled with tender intensity and something unfamiliar— you think, only to not realize he looks at you just like how the way you look at him. his love for you breaking all his bones and soul, but all he can do is just laugh; you were his best friend, after all. beautiful, crushingly so even, you look like the rest of my life— no, that’s not how a best friend thinks of his best friend. gojo satoru wouldn’t dare.

“you won’t. not if i can help it.”

the two of you just look at each other after that, with soft smiles on your faces, letting the weight of the past dissolve in the quiet night. under the moonlight, in the heart of the maze, it feels as if the world has been righted, and for the first time in a long while, everything feels as it should be.

or maybe it shouldn’t.

gojo shifted slightly and reached into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. “hey, i have something for you,” he said, his voice tinged with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. curious, you watched as he pulled out an envelope. the paper was thick and elegant— the kind used for important occasions, a soft lavender color that stood out against the dark fabric of his suit. he handed it to you, his fingers brushing yours, sending a familiar warmth through you.

you took the envelope, feeling a mix of anticipation and dread. opening it carefully, you find a beautifully crafted wedding invitation inside. the names on it made your breath catch in your throat: satoru gojo and his fiancée.

your heart sank, but you managed to keep your expression neutral. “satoru..” your voice came out as a whisper, blending with the soft hustle of the leaves. “this is lovely,” you said, forcing a smile as you looked up at him.

gojo’s eyes searched yours as if trying to read your thoughts. the grief— it’s all over your eyes, the grief that is more honest to him than you ever could. but gojo does not know the reason, why are you grieving? it is because of your sorrow and he can’t give you the shoulder? or is it because you, once again, are letting yourself burn for loving him? the saddest is, he doesn’t know that, not that he has to.

is it still a pleasure to burn for him now?

“i wanted you to have it first,” he said quietly. “you’ve always been important to me, more than anyone else.” the weight of his words hung in the air, making it harder to maintain your composure. “thank you,” you replied, your voice barely steady. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you smile at each other as if trying to comfort each other. “are you pleased?” he asked softly— too afraid if his voice came out louder, he would break you. please, don’t say yes’ he begged his heart. just say the word, y/n’ he continued. he begged, once, twice, three time, for the past twelve years of his life knowing you, under the moonlight, to the moon that you say the words, begging him to stop the wedding. just say the word and he’ll come running to you.

you groan a little, “pleased? oh, i’m destroyed.”

no, he was destroyed.

so he leaned closer, faster enough to fill his eyes with a mixture of affection and again, something you couldn't quite identify. “you know, you’ve always been my closest friend. my confidant. my anchor.” you nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “and you’ve been mine,” you said softly, the unspoken words lingering between you.

the silence between you grew heavier as you stared at the lavender envelope in your hands. with a deep breath, you carefully opened the lavender envelope, your fingers trembling. the wedding invitation was exquisitely crafted, each detail speaking of the elegance and care that had gone into its creation. the elegant script revealing the date. seven weeks from now. your heart sank further, the realization hitting you like a wave.

you looked up at gojo, the question evident in your eyes. “seven weeks?” you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. “that’s. . . soon.” he nodded, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “yeah, it’s a ‘shotgun’ wedding,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “things have been moving quickly when you are not around,” your heart ached at his words, the reality of his imminent marriage sinking in. “why so soon?" you asked, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “you are going to be a father? is that allowed?”

he chuckled at your attempt to joke, trying to hide the sadness that was so clearly there behind his eyes. the smile on his lips didn’t quite reach them, but he tried his best to keep up a brave face for you.

he scoffs, “apparently, they did,” he nodded.

he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to act as though it didn’t bother him in the slightest. he didn’t want you to know just how much turmoil he was facing with this entire situation. “yeah, not like we had much of a choice in the whole matter . . .” the fact that he was getting married had been eating at him for weeks. all of that time he had spent with you, all the memories. in just seven short, short weeks it would come to an end. he wanted to tell you. tell you just how much you meant to him, but . . .

but what? would it do any good?

your hand is gripping tightly around the bouquet, so tight, suffocating, until— for the second time that night the spine digs itself through your skin, straight to your heart— the pain, it’s unbearable, you feel like dying.

there was a long pause, the maze around you silent except for the faint rustling of leaves. you wanted to tell him everything, to confess how much he meant to you, but fear held you back. instead, you tried to focus on the moment, on the bittersweet reality of his impending marriage. “oh, my god—” you choke on your own. one hand covering your mouth before you face him.

gojo reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and comforting. “promise me we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” he said, his voice almost pleading. you squeezed his hand, fighting back tears. “always,” you promised, even as your heart shattered a little more. your hands, the one he wants to carry his heart by.

your eyes are shaking, matching his heart, it’s hurting. “i’m so happy for you,” your smile didn’t reach your eyes. someone once said that people’s hearts appear in their eyes, gojo can see yours now; it’s broken, shattered before him.

please don’t be happy for me, be miserable, so i don’t have the heart to leave you, so i can be with you,’ he wants to scream at you.

“oh, god, i’m so happy for you. . .”

look at you, a girl who doesn’t believe in god now crying, begging, pleading while calling his name because the pain was unbearable. how is cruel love can be?

the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, the lavender invitation between you acting as both a bridge and a barrier. you took a deep breath, feeling the tears welling up, and without thinking, you pulled gojo into a hug. he stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, wrapping his arms around you in a familiar embrace.

your tears flowed freely, once, twice, thrice, the moonlight catching them and making your eyes sparkle like crystals. “i’m happy for you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of joy and sorrow. satoru held you tighter, his breath warm against your ear. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “it means everything to me to have your support.”

the maze around you seemed to close in, the hedges whispering secrets and memories of times past. you clung to him, your heartbreaking and mending all at once, the scent of the night flowers mingling with the salt of your tears. “i wish you every happiness,” you continued, your words barely more than a breath. “you deserve it, ‘toru. you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. his own were glistening, the usual sparkle tempered by the weight of the moment. “and you deserve happiness too,” he said softly, his thumb gently brushing a tear from your cheek. “promise me you’ll find it.”

your foreheads met, and the gentle press of his skin against yours felt like the most natural thing in the world. your breaths mingled, soft and warm, creating a delicate rhythm that only the two of you shared, a silent conversation of souls.

his eyes, filled with a depth of emotion you had always known but never fully understood, locked with yours. the moonlight bathed you both in a soft, ethereal glow, casting a spell that held the night in a timeless embrace. every unspoken word, every hidden feeling, shimmered in the air between you, a tapestry of love and longing woven through years of friendship.

gojo’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch feather-light, as if he were afraid you might disappear. slowly, almost reverently, he began to close the gap between you. his movements were unhurried, each inch a testament to the gravity of the moment, the culmination of everything that had been left unsaid.

your heart pounded in your chest, a wild, erratic beat that seemed to echo through the silence. the anticipation was electric, every second stretched into an eternity. as his lips drew nearer, you felt the world around you blur into insignificance, the maze and the moonlight fading into the background. then, with a tenderness that took your breath away, his lips brushed against yours. the touch was soft, almost tentative, like the whisper of a dream.

oh, how empty he is to be full by you.

the contact sent a shiver through you, a spark that ignited every fiber of your being. you responded instinctively, your hands finding their way to his face, fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

the kiss was everything—a confession, a promise, a revelation. it spoke of years of hidden desires, of nights spent wondering, of the unbreakable bond that had always connected you. the taste of him, the feel of his lips moving against yours, was like coming home after a long, arduous journey.

when you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the cool night air, you opened your eyes to find him gazing at you with an expression that mirrored your own—wonder, longing, and a profound sense of rightness. ‘longing’, such a tender name for such a miserable state of being.

you nodded, the ache in your chest making it hard to speak. “i’ll try,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “but right now, i just need to be here for you.” gojo’s gaze held yours, the moonlight illuminating the silent understanding passing between you. “you’ve always been there for me,” he said, his voice a soft caress. “and i hope you always will be.”

the world around you seemed to fade, the only sounds the rustling of the leaves and the steady beating of your hearts. you felt a bittersweet calm wash over you, knowing that despite everything, your bond with satoru was unbreakable, saddest.

“i will be,” you promised, your voice firm despite the tears. “no matter what.”

he smiled then, a small, tender smile that spoke of shared sorrow, of the disaster from loving you, but oh how he promised, i will always be this tender for you. “good,” he whispered, pulling you back into his arms. “because i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

his arm tightly around you as your cheeks rest against his chest— he gathers you up, folds you to his heart, and looks at each other a little too long to be just friends.

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