#it feels so right to me that I sometimes forget it's not real | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeonniesblog · 3 days ago

Text

Kuroo x reader x oikawa

Synopsis : After years spent by a certain setter along with a small toddler mending you heart, your life was a just like a blissful movie with a happy ending. But little did you know the person who gave you not only the worst years of your life but also the small ball of sunshine, decided to suddenly make a appearance in your fairytale when fate played a wild

reader's note : this is the last chapter, make sure to read it in order! Sorry for the angst hehe.

Part 1 : meeting you again | Part 2 : wouldn't you | Part 3 : broken promises | Part 4 : where it all went wrong | Part 5 : enough for now (current one)

“she is a fucking psycopath” kenma sighs, putting the car in reverse as he pulls up in his driveway, eyes fixated on the rear view as kuroo watches the irriated expression on his face.

“dude, chill I know you hate kizumi, but I might marry her” kuroo sips his coffee as he lets out a shallow grunt in annoyance too, what was he doing in life.

“no, just think about it, she specifically asked for the ring you bought to propose to y/n, when she knows you could afford to give her much expensive one right now, but, again I repeat. she asked specifically for that ring, only”

the black hair man groans at the explanation, he knows his friend has a point, but he is trying to gaslight himself into believing whatever kizumi explained to him. “i think she just likes it, she was the one who chose it too, all those years ago—” and before kuroo could finish his sentence, the half blonde cuts him off, swiftly taking out his phone from his pocket and muttering something to it “siri, how do you block people in real life”

“yeah, okay, this is a kuroo hate club, I get it” the man sighs, propping his head back on the headrest, closing his eyes. “honestly I know her behavior is weird, but I’m in a tight spot, my only left family is nagging me to marry her, and you know I could care less about marriage” he pauses taking a deep breath. “dad is legit emotionally blackmailing me, sitting at his stupid hospital bed probably faking his disease”

“they want you to marry, doesn't necessarily have to be her” kenma suggests, opening the seatbelt around him. “i cannot marry a stranger, kizumi is a better option, we have been dating on and off for one year” the rooster haired man replies, honestly he really wants to jump off a cliff, but he will suppress the impulsive urges.

“as a rebutal to that, one thing you said was right” kenma sighs finally looking at his friend, kuroo looks tired, or is aged that appropriate word. “her behavior is weird, it's like she has more attachment to y/n than you, she is insecure as fuck of her. you, me and her, we all know she won't ever level up to the place y/n has in your heart, so she trying to become her, its giving me chills” kenma shudders at that thought, physically gagging.

“do you think it's too late for me to get a therapist?” with that kuroo tetsuro groans one more time.

kuroo sits quietly, hands clasped, looking up with hesitant eyes as he watches you put your purse on the table, stoice face, yet so pretty.

he really meant it when he said you got more gorgeous over the years, there were few lines now adorning your face, mature and elegant glow.

even if he sometimes wonders if it would have been better if you both never met at all, if it would have been better if neither of you had to go through the heartbreak, but he knows,

if there was a spell to go back in time, to where he met you, he would do the same thing. he would make a silly chemistry joke and wait for you to laugh at it, not because it was funny, no it was because it was so bad you laughed at it, it was his fault wasn’t it?

to loose the most precious thing in his life, did you feel worse than him, it wasn't a question, nor a comparison, he wanted to know because he will never forget or forgive himself to give you so much pain over the year.

what did you name the kid? did oikawa tooru’ see how your son took the first steps, was he the one who got called father first, what's his favorite food, does he have a birth mark, does he like volleyball? is your son’ tastes similar to what is his? Just like how he saw the little kid adorning your homely baked goods, similar to what he himself used to do.

it pains him, physically pains him to know he wasn't there for anything, he wasn't there to make you food, hold your hair while you threw up during you morning sickness, not hold your hand while you went into labour, he wasn't part of any of it, six years sometimes means nothing and yet to him, now, it means everything, it means every important thing he lost.

“you don't know how much draining this is for me, to be talking to you, or as a matter of fact to talk about what happened, cause honestly you deserve nothing, not the explanation, not to meet me or ruko” you break the silence first, firmly sitting at your place.

and kuroo wishes he could repent on all the thing you said but the only thought in his mind is what you named your son “his name is ruko?”

“his name is oikawa saruko” you firmly state, a small smile tugging at you lips, you were proud your kid had a father like oikawa, cause you can't imagine anyone else being a better father than him.

tetsuro has never wanted to be in someone else's place as much as he wants to be oikawa now, he sighs at your words. “why didn't you tell me, I would get it if you wanted to get away from me, but don't you think I deserved to know the kid was mine?” his voice quivering as he asks you the question, a weird pang in his chest.

“i tried, I tried so many times” your voice quivers slightly “why do you think I asked for your opinion to have a kid?” that silents the man infront of you, his pupil dilated as he realizes how he explained it, and how it sounded like a definite ‘no” from his side.

“not to mention, even after that I was going to tell you, with my parents kuroo and you didn't show up” he relishes at how defeated he feels when you don't even call him by his first name, so the announcement when you called him was with your parents? his legs tenses up and he stops shaking them.

“i know I don't have any excuse but you know there was a storm that night—”

“yet you left me all alone in that storm, tetsuro” his heart breaks into million pieces, do you even know how much he just wants to pull you close and cry, stain your shirt with his tears of sorrow that he made a mistake and couldn't be in your presence and of joy because after years he was able to see you.

“i—y/n” he tries to put his hands over yours but you are swift to pull away, he knows a million reasons of why your reflex action was right, yet he can't help but feel his throat becoming dry “i’m sorry, I assumed you were with your parents, I had no idea, my phone was dead”

“how can you still lie to me?” your voice croaks, finally looking straight into his eyes, you really don't want to care for whatever his action was or what he did but you can't help but feel wronged.

“what do you mean lie?”

“so your phone was dead enough to not respond to my texts but it was working when you reposted on social media with your now girlfriend, her friends commenting how cute you both looked” you scoff pausing in disbelief “or should I say fiance”

“whatever are you sayi-” then it clicks, it suddenly clicks how kizumi’s friend has always shipped him with her, despite knowing he has a girlfriend, despite him saying he doesn't appreciate it, that it straight up makes him uncomfortable.

how kizumi knew, that your birthdate was his password to Instagram, he remembers her saying it was so cute, its laughable to think how dumb he has been, how could he not notice her intention. but he wishes you told him, he wishes he could have cleared off the last misunderstanding and if he could take it all back he would.

hell, he would never breath the same air as kizumi if he could go back in time and fix things. but he cannot, all he has is regret and all he can do his atone for his mistake, he was hoping you'd be kind enough to let him see his son, he hasn't been a great partner but he sure as heck wants to have some influence in your son’s life—

after all, it was a part of you and him, back then if he actually heard you were pregnant he'd probably be scared as shit, but he would still fight every odds to raise the kid you made, how could he ever resent a mini you, kuroo knows he has no right to feel wronged but all those years without the little guy or even acknowledgment of his existence makes feel burnt.

his lips shaky and he doesn't know if a explanation would even help at this point, nothing would change and even if kizumi was in wrong– so was he though. his mouth ran before he could know.

he looks up at her. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but there’s something you need to hear" your eyes held anger and he was scared of that, he wanted to scream please forgive me, over and over again in a chant but he knew he didn't deserve your forgiveness.

you crossed your arms, wary but patient. you had no idea how you still held on. but they say but they say old habits die hard, and even after six year you had the same patience for him, you wanted to laugh at yourself “Go on.”

“It was Kizumi,” he begins, voice low but firm. “She… she’s the reason things fell apart. She was jealous of you, of what we had. She deleted your texts that night—the ones you sent me about the announcement. She posted on my social media to make it look like I was with her. And she—”

"You didn't know?" your eyes widened and you had no idea how to feel after hearing that, conflicted feeling filled your lungs and the wall of resolve you have solidified getting cracks of doubt in them, but you remained firm.

“No,” Kuroo says quickly, his voice thick with regret. “I was blind, stupid, and I didn’t see what was happening. I let her control too much. I thought I could trust her. But I swear, if I’d known—” He stops, realizing that no matter what he says, it won’t erase the past.

you stare at him, your face unreadable, but there was turmoil behind your eyes “So, you’re saying it was all her fault?”

“No. No..no.” Kuroo says firmly, shaking his head. “It was my fault too. I let her into my life, I didn’t listen to you, and I didn’t fight for you when it mattered. That’s on me. I just… I need you to know that I didn’t abandon you on purpose.”

you exhale slowly, looking down at you cup, a closure huh? but what does that change ? you know oikawa is much more important to you now, nothing could change that, nothing could make you ever abandon the perfect family you have right now. “I believe you, Tetsuro. But that doesn’t change what happened. You weren’t there when I needed you, and I had to pick up the pieces alone. Oikawa was there. He’s been there for me and for Ruko.”

even if there is a shaky heartbeat you feel around your past lover you know it was not meant to be. there are so many things unsaid and there will be so many things which will be, you are a mom now and you could never be an careless one. and as much as tears were welling up in your eyes for what could have been, you won't risk anything for what it is now.

Kuroo swallows the lump in his throat. “I know. And I’m glad he’s been good to you both. I just… I missed so much, Y/N. I want to know him. I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to try.”

bonus scene

Kuroo sits on a bench, watching from a distance as you and Oikawa playing with your son, Ruko. The boy—his son, biologically—has Oikawa’s mannerisms but your smile. Kuroo’s chest tightens as he watches the little boy stumble, only for Oikawa to sweep him up, spinning him around while you laugh.

They look like a family. They are a family

Kuroo thinks to himself, maybe this could have been you both if he wasn't consumed by the thought that you both would also be horrible parents much like your families.

you notice him then, your gaze meeting his. There’s no anger in your eyes anymore, just a quiet understanding. you approach him cautiously, arms crossed. “You’re here,” you speak, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“I just wanted to see him,” Kuroo admits. “I won’t interfere much. I just… needed to see him.”

You sit beside him, keeping a respectful distance. “He’s happy, you know. Oikawa’s a good father. He loves Ruko like he’s his own.” and that breaks kuroo's heart, as much as he tries to look positively at this. He can't help but feel his heart become empty, can't help but wish to be where oikawa is right now in your life.

Kuroo nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I can see that. He’s a lucky kid.” you glance at him, your expression softening. “I know the truth now, about Kizumi. About what happened. I’m… sorry you were caught in that.”

“I’m sorry too,” Kuroo says, his voice breaking. He knows it's not enough but all he can do is regret it over and over again. “For everything. For not being there, for letting you down. I should’ve fought harder for us.” you look away, your gaze fixed on Oikawa and Ruko. “Maybe. But it’s too late now, Tetsuro. We’ve both moved on.” and he feels a bit happy, you used his first name, God he is so pathetic

“I know,” he whispers, his heart breaking all over again. “But I’ll never stop wishing I could go back and do it right.” and before you are able to say anything you notice a small figure approaching you, you feel at ease when you notice it's your son, oikawa stood a bit away, he felt protective over you both but he doesn't want to snatch away the closure you deserve, and he can't snatch away ruko from his biological dad. so he stays silent cause he knows ruko would pick him for sure, he loves the little guy to death after all.

“Ruko, this is… this is Tetsuro,” you say gently, getting up from the bench only to kneel beside your son.

The boy looks up, curious but cautious. “Hi,” he says softly, clutching his toy dinosaur.

Kuroo crouches down, his heart aching as he gets his first close look at his son. Ruko has Y/N’s eyes and his messy black hair. He smiles faintly. “Hey, buddy. That’s a cool dinosaur you’ve got there. What’s his name?”

“Cupcake,” Ruko replies, holding it up proudly.For a moment, Kuroo wants to giggle, pondering why a dinosaur would be named Cupcake, but he holds back, his lips twitching into a soft smile. “Cupcake, huh? That’s a pretty unique name. Why’d you pick it?”

Ruko beams, his small chest puffing up with excitement. “Well—it’s not weird, okay? It’s ’cause I love dinosaurs and I love Mom’s handmade cupcakes, so I mixed two favorite things at once!”

Kuroo freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. Cupcakes. His gaze flickers briefly to you, you who look away, your expression unreadable. He remembers countless nights when he’d come over to your place, exhausted from work or practice, and the smell of your freshly baked cupcakes would make him feel like he was home. They were his favorite—a sweet, simple treat that reminded him of your warmth.

And now, their son shares that same love.“That’s… that’s actually genius,” Kuroo finally says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Cupcake is the perfect name for a dinosaur. You’ve got great taste.”

Ruko grins proudly, going on to describe Cupcake’s many adventures and how he takes the toy everywhere. Kuroo listens intently, his heart clenching. There’s an ache beneath his chest—a mix of pride, love, and regret. He and Ruko have so much in common, and yet, this is the first time he’s learning it.

The realization stings, and he resents you a bit for that but it also fills him with a bittersweet joy. Ruko is bright, imaginative, and full of life. He’s a part of you and him—a reminder of what you both once had. And kuroo decides he can live with that. That's enough for now isn't it?

Finally ending this series, I get embarrassed whenever I reread it but it was my first series and it has been in my drafts for years. But here I ending, thank you for everyone who waited for this.

Here is the taglist (it's based on people who were waiting for it) : @reikashe @mikaela26sstuff @chita318 @mxrice @freddiemylovelg @glxar @amarinthe @rinsangel @captainchrisstan @gamacha @cheeseriz @pluviophilefangirl @bnha-bakusquad @asaitashi @lordmomourmomoness @missyasmim @macky-attoh @belle643 @on-crows-wings

#kuroo haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #oikawa imagines #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #kuroo tetsuro angst #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oikawa #akaashi imagine #atsumu x reader #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu captains

75 notes · View notes

luvybun · 1 day ago

Note

your last reaction blurb made me thinkkkk

so what do you think about jun walking in on you changing, and at first he's trying to look away but then he's like wait woah you're hot- and then you just tell him that it's okay to look (and maybe touch-)

(also idk if you do personal anons, but can i be 🐰 anon if you do??)

౨ৎ touch me - wen junhui x reader

ᡣ𐭩 genre: fluffy smut ᡣ𐭩 cw: slight dollification ᡣ𐭩 words: 395 ᡣ𐭩 notes: ofc you can be my 🐰 anon! i made it a bit shorter than i wanted to bc i've gotten a little busy😔

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. any names, images, or references to real individuals are purely fictional and do not portray or represent their real-life counterparts in any way.

꒰୨୧꒱ 18+ content, MDNI ꒰୨୧꒱

"y/n, do you know if-"

you froze. jun had barged into your room without warning, and you were still only in your underwear. the two of you were supposed to go out to meet your other friends but, as usual, you were running late. instead of letting you go alone, jun decided to wait for you at your place until you were ready to go. a cute sentiment, but sometimes jun can be distracted... distracted means that he'll forget that you told him you were going to go change.

"sorry!" he turned around.

as the adrenaline settled, you started feeling a blooming heat in your chest. something other than embarrassment... arousal? jun was cute, he always had been, but were you seriously getting turned on from your friend walking in on you changing.

"it's okay," you said softly. "you can look, i don't mind..."

you could see jun tense up, before he hesitantly turned around. you were just in a bra and panties - your cute ones in case you happened to meet someone at the bar tonight. jun licked his lips as he looked you up and down.

"you're pretty," he murmured.

your face was warm, your hands trembling ever so slightly. "jun, i-"

he took a few quick steps forward before he was right in front of you, his hands hovering by your sides and his nose almost touching yours. you looked into his eyes to see something burning in there, and you wanted to figure out what it was. you nodded, and his hands were immediately on you. his mouth smashed onto your - teeth clashing against each other as you desperately tried to get closer to each other. you should talk about this first, but you just don't have the time. this was urgent.

your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him towards the bed. "we should stay in tonight... we can call the others later," you muttered against his lips.

"i agree," he hummed and laid you down on the bed, getting on top of you just seconds later. "been wanting to touch you like this for so long, i don't want to waste another second."

there was a slight embarrassment of him being completely dressed while you weren't, that made you buzz with excitement. you were his to play with, and you were eager to please.

55 notes · View notes

ahamkara-apologist · 3 days ago

Text

OKAY I did not, in fact, forget about this, I merely got very distracted painting miniatures and thus did not actually get onto my computer until now. Time to explain what's been haunting me since Revenant's cutscene showing the Whirlwind occurred and why I think that the horror of the Eliksni losing their homeworld is, if anything, understated. Nor do I think that most fans really understand it either, bc it's a tragedy that's so profound that it just wraps right around to being unbelievable again

So, for starters, I have a bachelor's degree in evolutionary genetics (which is barely anything, but it's enough for me to know that there's a lot I don't know yada yada yada) and work as a researcher in a behavioral genetics lab. We primarily focus on neurodevelopmental disorders, including autism, and I work with the autism models because I'm interested in understanding what genes are interlinked with social behavior. Which is a lot of yapping to say that I work on figuring out what behaviors are intrinsic to a species and what are not...as much as you can attempt to make those claims. We study environmental effects on development and behavior just as much as we study purely genetic ones.

Here's the thing: we cannot fully separate ourselves from our environment. We're merely one thread woven into the full tapestry of the world around us, specifically molded to fit our spot in the ecosystem. Much like an ocean tumbled to a smooth circle by the churning of the tides, our species is the way that it is because of a series of random mutagenic events boosting reproductive success over millions and millions of years. Not only that, but we're dynamic beings as well; our patterns of gene expression can change throughout the course of our life, and does so often in response to great amounts of stress. Sometimes- but not often- these changes are heritable. And, as we are starting to figure out, moving people away from naturalistic environments is often seen by our bodies as a source of stress; people tend to have much better health when they have the ability to interact with and immerse themselves in nature, doubly so when animals are involved. One of the reasons why going out on walks is an effective aid for depressive symptoms is because being among trees reduces stress in of itself. Children who grow up with pets are healthier, and learning to work with animals increases empathy, lowers stress, and primes the immune system.

What happens, then, when access to those outdoors becomes shut off forever? When everything else around you goes extinct? What happens when beautiful fields and woodlands are replaced by the cold metal walls of a ketch, and hours spent roaming with livestock animals or listening to birdsong is replaced with the dim roar of the engines and the whir of machines? Eido speaks about the shanks of House Light with the fondness we might equate to a pet, but it's not the same as being with a real, living animal, feeling its heartbeat and sharing its breath. We know from Inaaks and Namrask's accounts that the times in the Drift grew dire enough that the corpses of the dead were used for sustenance, so pets and major livestock animals certainly did not survive to Sol. Likely only plants and farmed invertebrates (like Misraaks's pickled leeches) were able to be sustained on the ketches due to their simpler life cycles; companion animals are out of the question. In terms of more complex Riisian lifeforms, the Eliksni stand alone.

That's to say nothing of what the absence of a natural circadian rhythm might do; in humans, major depressive disorders and vitamin D deficiency can result from insufficient exposure to sunlight, whereas in birds and other reptiles, anything from impaired reproductive cycles and internal clocks (birds) to metabolic bone disease (lizards and turtles) can result from insufficient exposure to light/dark cycles and UV light. I'm sure that the Eliksni have fake solar lights, given that their society was much more advanced than ours was, but...what if it wasn't good enough? What if those lights had to be stripped for parts, so that better

One of the studies that we do is something called limited bedding and nesting, where pups are reared on a wire cage floor with barely any nesting materials, compared to our standard cages, where the moms get as much soft bedding as they wish. It's an assay done to study how early life adversity affects development on both a somantic and neurological front. Overall, pups reared in LBN environments tend to show significant developmental delays in both somatic and neurological milestones, increased anxiety and depressive-like behaviors, altered risktaking behavior, and cognitive impairments when compared against pups reared in a typical, low-stress environment. Additionally, stress on the mothers tend to result in over-anxious or physically rough means of handling their pups, which is sometimes seen as analogous to abuse. And these are studies where the mother and the pups are given constant access to food and water on a consistent light/dark cycle at a set temperature point; malnutrition or insufficient light/dark cycles is not a factor. I think it's safe to say that life on the ketches during the Drift was much worse than what mice in a lab might experience, and that such hardships did not end in Sol- drekhs and vandals are canonically stunted in growth, with drekhs barely getting enough ether to survive. Sure, some might make it to being captain-sized (aka, the proper size for an adult Eliksni), but they still had to go through that deprivation period to get to it. Which means that it could be possible that Eramis and Inaaks's generation were the last group of Eliksni to develop normally, and everyone hatched post-Whirlwind is deeply fucked up on a biological level

That's not even getting into epigenetics. One of the ways that animals survive rapid changes in their environment or overly stressful events is through epigenetic modification, where the DNA itself is altered in such a way that gene expression changes. I'm not going to get into the technical details of it, but a drastically simplified version can be read like this: your DNA is kind of like a bunch of scrolls on how to make a living organism, with multiple copies on those instructions (ideally with a little variation). Over your lifetime, some of those scrolls are rolled up so that they cannot be read (and thus cannot be transcribed), while some of them are unrolled so that they can be read out (and thus transcribed). Highly traumatic or stressful events, however, can force a LOT of those scrolls that were previously open to be rolled up, and more of those that were previously closed to be rolled out, resulting in a noticible change in gene expression. The vast majority of the time these are somatic changes and are thus non-heritable, but sometimes when the event is traumatizing enough (as in, surviving a life-or-death event), they can affect the germ cells as well, resulting in heritable mutations- such as the children of famine survivors trending towards having higher fat retention than their parents. Such an event was so traumatizing that it altered their parent's genetics to make them more effective at surviving the threat that their predecessors faced.

I think it's safe to say that the literal apocalypse is a bit of a stressful event. Assuming that the Eliksni have genetic material that functions similar enough to our DNA for epigenetic mechanisms to work similarly, and the fact that all survivors of the Whirlwind would have put under that same stress...well. Epigenetic mutations are almost always erased, but there's a small chance that they're passed down a generation, and the more people you put in that situation, the higher the chances are of that happening. The Whirlwind and the Long Drift might have altered the gene pool more than just bottlenecking it to hell and back. I don't think that there's been enough generations since the Whirlwind to see the long-term effects just yet, but the short-term ones would certainly be noticible by now. Sol-born Eliksni are likely significantly different from Riis-born Eliksni in terms of health and developmental milestones after the gauntlet of shit that they went through.

TLDR: These crabs aren't just depressed and loaded with PTSD, they're also probably developmentally fucked up in ways that you can't even begin to imagine

Someone remind me to make a post speculating on how the loss of Riis fucked up Eliksni biology (and how the stress of being in Sol might have caused even more problems on an epigenetic scale) when its not late as shit bc the more I think about it the more and more horrified I get

#you cannot remove a species from the context of their environment without making said species nonsensical #in a way the death of an ecosystem is the death of the species itself #the eliksni are not just the sole survivors of riis. they are the ghosts of an entire world. dead beings walking #destiny 2 #eliksni

72 notes · View notes

thewrongexecution · 2 years ago

Text

FFXIV Class Concept: Oracle

Because I should probably put my fancy ideas that at least some of you will enjoy reading somewhere other than youtube comments every now and then. Save 'em for posterity or whatever.

This post will make more sense if you're familiar with the Shadowbringers Normal Raid series, as it reuses concepts seen therein.

The Oracle is a caster-melee hybrid (classified as Caster DPS) which wields a Gavel (a one- or two-handed blunt-force melee weapon which fires spells from the pommel). It focuses on dealing damage in large but less-frequent bursts, while planning ahead to deal even greater burst damage during the appropriate buff windows.

Oracle's core class feature is Spell-in-Waiting, a single-use self-buff which alters the function of certain spells, similar to Sage's Eukrasia. Activating Spell-in-Waiting makes your next basic spell cast instantly, but apply as a debuff which detonates after ~6 seconds.

Casting a basic spell at an enemy afflicted with Spell-in-Waiting will enhance the Waiting spell based on the elements of the spells involved. Oracle eventually gains access to Dark, Light, and Unaspected damage types, which are each associated with particular effects.

Normally, the spells just do raw damage, but striking an enemy afflicted with a Waiting spell may change how the spell detonates, applying AoE patterns, healing, buffs, or debuffs.

Thus, the rotation runs:

Spell-in-Waiting > basic spell

basic spell (enhances Waiting)

melee strike (modifies, detonates Waiting)

...Which I think is a fairly unique combat flow. You're encouraged to stay in melee range (though any number of other mechanics, such as healer AoE sizes, already do), and become vulnerable right before your burst goes off (basic spells have a default 2-second cast time, to purposefully ratchet that tension and grant the satisfaction of the spell and melee hit going off near-simultaneously).

In addition to an expanding elemental repertoire, Oracle also gains Stock Strike, which stores a copy of a Spell-in-Waiting for future use. This could be cast on its own, but would optimally be used to create a third-stage Spell-in-Waiting (operating on Monk chakra rules, you'd want either monotype or omnitype for optimal results).

Please do not ask me how quickcast interacts with this kit.

#ffxiv #blatant speculation #in honor of the storefront's latest cosmetic lmao #I'm sure it's just a coincidence but I'm hoping it's not #it feels so right to me that I sometimes forget it's not real

1 note · View note

vaguely-concerned · 1 month ago

Text

Origins is of course the DA game most closely in conversation with and playing around with Tolkien (right down to the walking talking poetree haha) -- and even more so than most works in the larger western fantasy tradition derived from Tolkien's work that DA:O also hails from and owes a lot of its Stuff to, what makes the game so great to me is that it's doing so very deliberately, and is subverting and deconstructing those tropes and entrenched ideas in some very interesting ways without at all denigrating what it's commenting on. (it doesn't have the almost disdainful undertones of the vein of fantasy that seeks to make the world more 'realistic' ala the more tedious reactions to G.R.R.Martin's work, for example, despite having the darker fantasy bent to it.) among other elements it adopts, what I find the most fascinating is the choice to use the same literary device/conceit Tolkien did in ostensibly only having in-universe biased sources and works to deliver the world through (which I feel is an underappreciated thing about his approach but is part of what makes his world so enduringly compelling and real-feeling -- the feeling of real scholarship devoted/applied to a made-up world. the grounding effect of a good diegetic footnote about source criticism, truly).

many things to be said there, and I'm glad each following game has taken on different perspectives and lenses and traditions to view the world of Thedas through because if you stick with that one too closely for too long I fear we could teeter precariously close to Pratchett's famous and bitingly accurate accusation of most modern fantasy of that era just being about rearranging the furniture in Tolkien's attic lol. and while you could accuse DA2 (my perfect wife who has never done anything wrong in her life to be clear) of many things, that's not one of them, they are pulling on some completely different strings for that one and both the game and DA overall is better for it, to my mind. as so many things in this series: worth staying with and exploring for an installment even if it might get stale if all of it was like this! people are understandably sad about the elements from previous games that they liked which were lost along the way, but that capacity for reinvention is to my mind a huge strength of dragon age as a whole.

(I think Veilguard is coming in as a close second in Tolkien conversation-ness if only in outlining/revealing the worldbuilding that indeed may have been planned since DA:O around the animosity that SHOULD by all rights exist between dwarves and elves in this universe (as per Tolkienesque tradition standards). but doesn't really because you see: politics and the many pitfalls of conservation of knowledge over the ages. our ancestral enmity got semi-intentionally lost between the floorboards of history and you know what. maybe for the best. the humans are already up to so much shit you gotta keep your eyes on them at all times you can't be brawling with each other in the deep roads while they're still around getting up to their nonsense or they'll just pile up even more of it)

#dragon age #dragon age origins #been thinking about the unreliable narration/in-universe texts only element being the thing da:o took from tolkien that's most defining #for a LONG time and I want to write something smart about it sometime but alas. this is what I've got right now haha #I think *some* da:o nostalgia is about that familiar safe childhood feeling of Fantasy World in a pattern that was so deeply entrenched #for many many MANY years. it's been in the groundwater of the genre for so long it's only fairly recently the patterns were broken #on like a mainstream sort of scale. I know I'm getting older b/c I keep going 'how do I explain to some of these people #that the world (both the real one the fictional one and the gaming one) was a very different place back in 2009' lol #and I agree there's something so tremendously comforting about it even with all the grimdark elements more in the martin vein #that's also in da:o. the same way you get satisfaction out of the structural familiarity of fairy tale logic but for a whole genre #da:o follows the Rules of a fantasy world in post-tolkien tradition -- even when it's subverting them it's doing so in reference #to a set of tropes and ideas both you and the game are deeply familiar and comfortable with #(da:o IS also just a really fucking good game I'm NOT saying people's love for it comes from being blinded by nostalgia haha #just an observation of a thing I've recognized in myself as well. there are elves there are dwarves there are talking trees and dragons #and basically orcs. all is as it should be and everything makes sense <- the part of me that grew up on lotr and derived works lol)#and while the other games also have all these elements they don't USE them in the same way and it doesn't feel the same. it's so interestin #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #only in the vaguest way but still #you know what veilguard occasionally feels more like actually. sci-fi! and it's not an accusation or a bad thing for me I think it's great #da:i veers more to high fantasy and da2 feels weirdly low-fantasy -- it's a story where magic also happens to exist but I almost forget lol #it's a magical world and magic is integral to the plot but thematically it's so much about real-feeling political conflict #da:o is a Quest in da2 you're new in town (and it gets worse)

21 notes · View notes

phagodyke · 6 months ago

Text

genuinely so devastating to finish my flcl rewatch and pull up the tumblr tag confident that everyone else is also down cataclysmic for haruko and posting abt it but *crickets*

#I THOUGHT IT WAS REALLY POPULAR ON HERE.... WHAT THE HELL GUYS #appreciate all the artbook stuff and the handful of fanartists but other than that its so dead its so over 😭😭😭😭#and most of the posts abt her are like 'shes such a terrible person but fun character other than that!' STFU. POSER #her selfishness and apathy and singleminded drive is literallt what makes her so fucking hot whats so hard to understand #a woman is headstrong n decisive n doesnt care abt ending the world for her ambitions n suddenly ur like ohhh devotion is baaaad #move aside gayboy im gonna get it id let use me in whatever scheme she needs thr fact shed only pretend to care abt me is even better 🥴#i love physically violent women i love being smacked with bass guitars hi hello im right here 😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚#wheres that post thats like i dont even have mommy issues i just think its hot to be a womans pet LITERALLLYYYY #god i need to draw her 5 million times but i wont have any free time until at least tues.....so sad #wait for me babygirl...... i wont forget abt u #we would have the most toxic relationship ever it would be awful for everyone in a 50 mile radius people would die #fake manic pixie dream girl fans when a girl with real mania comes at them:#ANYWAY RANT OVER i need to get my shit together for work tmr #also my chocolate orange cake turned out sooooo good i need to use this recipe again sometime #feeling way better plus i didnt even fully crash i just had like an hour or two of turbulence. but i do need to start winding down for bed #soooo goodnight everyone... and haruko especially.......#.diaries #flcl

9 notes · View notes

bluestjayy · 2 months ago

Text

#one day I will get brave enough to set boundaries about the number of times people can promise to show up for me and then just *not*#one day i will be brave enough to say hey this hurts me actually #that you said you would do x/be with me for y/help me with y #and have not followed through #and i get it sometimes people forget things #sometimes real life gets in the way #irl sucks and the nature of being an adult means other things take priority #that's fine #and ig sometimes the things i am asking for are inconsequential in their eyes #they're small tiny things that to them don't mean much or they don't perceive them as that big of a deal #so like #yeah i guess im being whiny and childish by saying hey this tiny thing actually means a lot to me #i get it #but its hard to feel valued and important when its happening consistently #and i am used to just being #forgotten #im easily overlooked #easily ignored #and i never say anything because i am here also convincing myself I have no right to kick up a stink about these tiny things #that in the grand scheme of life are not that important #none of these things im asking for are life threatening so maybe I should just #stop being upset that im not getting them #but then also im like. it's not even about the thing. it's about the consistent promises #and then the consistent inability to meet those promises #because im not important enough to make that effort for ig #sigh #im just venting into the void apparently #1 week anniversary of me moving back into my shitty home situation with my parents and my mental health is in the toilet #can you tell lol #sorry for being sad on main again

2 notes · View notes

girlivealwaysbean · 5 months ago

Text

okay ventpost time im bored and my period is late

#my mother is leaving AGAIN #to stay with my father #bhai mujhe nahi rehna akele i don't want to parent my brother #i don't want to cook or stress about what to eat and clothes and laundry and literally buying vegetables every few days #well all these things are just surface level but i REALLYYYYY do not want to live alone with my thoughts #i want to study i can't just study on my phone with no adult mere sarr pe khade hoke asking ki itna tv #kyu dekh rahi hai kya hua class kyu nahi attend kari #kar liya try bhai call me immature and childish and pathetic and dependent and undisciplined whatever but mere bas ki baat nahi hai #also ooooh listen to my moms great solution: she'll stay there and dad will come!! to live with us two!! alone!! haha.#it's sk fucking sad and repetitively traumatizing ki i don't even know how to react #my sister is the only kid both my parents like when she stays home things are mostly calm and happy #they dote on her they tolerate us #and they should i love her too but now i feel like crying because i don't want her to stay back just for me??? my stupid mental health??#she's doing enough by staying here till rakhi just because i asked her begged her to not leave me alone mami ke side #she could've fucked off and gone to live her life 10 days ago #it's not fair #the person i love and want to live with.. if she stays she's miserable and her being miserable mskes me miserable #i just. i miss her so much. she already feels so distant and busy and then she'll go abroad and totally forget about me right #who doesn't need all this constant depression holding you back weighing you down when you're living your best life #i hate that there's no solution i just have to grow up and be okay with it #i already got more time with her than i thought she stayed home like 2 years extra cause of covid #3 actually #ab why am i crying it was a good day #also i don't want to make it all about me but like. idk when i was picturing my adult life i was thinking like #night clubs and gay bars and beaches at night #i never factored in real factors like the horrifying fucking country we live in 💀��#it's just it was the only thing that kept me going the promise of a better future #but now what.#and like #it's feels so stupid now the fact that i sometimes want to like

2 notes · View notes

woundedheartwithin · 1 year ago

Text

Something y’all need to know about me is, if I message you or tag you or send you an ask or comment or address you in the tags, I am NOT expecting an answer! Not ever, and I mean that. I will not get upset if you never reply to it, and this is for two reasons:

1. I know intimately how stressful and scary and exhausting notifications can be, especially when you’re not feeling so great mentally/physically/emotionally, and I will automatically assume this is the case if I don’t get a reply, even if I see you actively posting on my dash

2. I have already forgotten that I sent you something

#she speaks #in fact I’d rather see you posting if you don’t feel up to replying to me because then at least I know you’re okay #posting publicly has a million times less pressure than privately messaging someone and I fully understand that #I absolutely will not ever be offended or upset if you never reply to me #I’m not kidding like I just like to talk sometimes #and sometimes I like to talk at people directly #I do this in real life too lol I just say shit to the room at large without expecting an answer #I’m chatty esp if I’m comfortable with you #and I like to just drop little encouragements in my friends’ inboxes sometimes #lots of times if you have anon turned on I’ll use anon to do this so that you don’t feel pressured to respond to me #but I’m not expecting anything from anyone I promise #I don’t have a right to first of all because your time is precious and I respect that #but also again… I forget shit like that really easily #god just ask my irl friends lmao I just send them shit and then forget they exist 😂#also also if I’m ever crossing a boundary tell me! I will respect it without question!#I cannot accurately read social cues so you gotta tell me if you want me to stop doing something #and like lmao I know I just said I’m forgetful but I don’t forget shit like that

3 notes · View notes

dilf-docs · 6 days ago

Text

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 :)

"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

1K notes · View notes

solxamber · 2 months ago

Text

Holding Them and Not Letting Go with: First Years

the rest will be in a separate post <3

Others: Housewardens + Jamil ; Vice housewardens + Rollo, Neige

Ace Trappola

Ace bounces into the room, still riding the high of his basketball victory. His grin is wide, and he’s practically glowing with confidence. “Alright, so are we going with Sprite or Coke for this exclusive VIP party?” he asks, digging through the mini fridge with exaggerated flair.

You don’t answer. Instead, you step closer and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a firm hug.

He freezes for a second before letting out a laugh, his tone teasing. “Wow, I didn’t realize winning a game made me this irresistible.” He turns his head to try and catch your expression, expecting a playful retort, but when you don’t let go or even laugh, his teasing fades.

“Hey,” he says more softly, twisting slightly to look at you. “You good?”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your hands still gripping his jersey. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, voice steady but warm. “I just… I love you, Ace. And I’m really, really proud of you.”

For a moment, he’s completely still, blinking at you like he can’t quite process your words. Then he lets out a shaky laugh, his arms coming up to pull you closer. “Don’t get all soft on me now,” he mutters, but there’s a tremor in his voice, and his hold on you is anything but casual.

Ace is the kind of guy who hides behind his jokes and bravado. He’s the loudest in the room, the one always cracking jokes to deflect attention from anything that might feel too serious or too vulnerable.

He plays it cool, like nothing ever really gets to him. But deep down, he’s always wondered if he’s enough—enough to be taken seriously, enough to make someone proud, enough to deserve the kind of unconditional love he’s always quietly craved.

Hearing you say those words, feeling the sincerity in your hug—it’s almost overwhelming. The teasing grin he wears so easily is replaced by something softer, something real.

He buries his face in your shoulder, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks,” he says, the single word carrying more weight than he usually lets on.

In your arms, Ace allows himself to feel it all—the pride, the love, the relief. He might joke about being irresistible or too cool for heartfelt moments, but the truth is, you make him feel like he doesn’t need to be anything other than himself. And that? That’s everything.

Deuce Spade

Deuce sits at his desk, the faint sound of pencil scratches and frustrated sighs filling the room. His brow is furrowed, and his leg bounces anxiously under the table. “Why can’t I get this?” he mutters, flipping through his notes for the hundredth time. “I should know this by now. I have to get this right.”

You watch him for a moment, heart aching at the stress etched into his face. He’s always trying so hard—pushing himself to be the perfect honor student, the model example. You know how much he wants to prove himself, but sometimes, he forgets that it’s okay to lean on others.

Without a word, you walk over and wrap your arms around him. At first, Deuce stiffens in surprise, but the tension melts away almost instantly as he leans into your embrace. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice a little shaky. “What’s this for?”

You don’t answer right away, just holding him tightly. His hands come up to rest on your arms, his grip firm, like he’s drawing strength from you. After a moment, though, he shifts slightly, craning his neck to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. “You’ve been holding on for a while…”

You smile, shaking your head gently. “I’m fine. I just… I’m really proud of you, Deuce. I see how hard you work, how much you care about doing your best. I don’t think you hear it enough, but I’m proud of you.”

For a moment, he’s silent, his wide eyes searching yours like he’s trying to make sure you mean it. And then, without warning, he pulls you back into the hug, tighter this time, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go.

Deuce has spent so much of his life trying to prove himself—to his mom, to his teachers, to his classmates. He worries constantly about whether he’s good enough, whether he’ll ever live up to the expectations he’s set for himself. Deep down, there’s a part of him that fears he’ll always be that hotheaded troublemaker he used to be, no matter how hard he tries to change.

But in your arms, all of that seems to fade. When you tell him you’re proud of him, it feels like a gift he doesn’t quite deserve, but one he’s so grateful for that it hurts. He doesn’t feel like he has to pretend to be perfect or have it all figured out—not with you.

“You’re… you’re the best,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

To Deuce, you’re like a miracle—a gift from the Sevens themselves. Someone who sees him for who he is and believes in him even when he’s struggling to believe in himself. And as he holds you close, he silently vows to keep doing his best—not just for himself, but for you, too.

Jack Howl

Jack sets the heavy crate down with ease, brushing his hands on his pants before glancing at you. “Alright, that’s the last one,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “You didn’t have to lift a finger. Told you I’d handle it.”

You smile at him, watching as he dusts himself off, the faintest sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. Jack always insists on doing the hard work, carrying the weight—literally and figuratively. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t ask for help, just powers through with quiet determination.

Before he can turn back to the next task, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. He stiffens slightly, caught off guard, but then his arms come up to hold you in return.

“What’s this for?” he asks, his voice soft but curious.

You don’t answer right away, simply holding him tighter. Jack stays quiet, but you can feel his tail wagging behind him, a faint swish against the ground. When you don’t let go, though, he starts to shift slightly, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, concern evident in his tone. His ears flick nervously, his golden eyes scanning your face.

You smile up at him, shaking your head lightly. “I’m fine, Jack. I just… I just love you, and I’m really glad to have you in my life. You’re always looking out for me, always working so hard. I don’t think I say it enough, but I really appreciate you.”

For a moment, Jack just looks at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he pulls you back into the hug, his grip firm and grounding. He doesn’t say anything, but his tail betrays him, wagging faster now, practically spinning like a motor.

Jack isn’t used to hearing things like that. He’s always been the dependable one, the one people rely on but rarely the one people go out of their way to thank. There’s a part of him that wonders if he’s only valued for his strength, for what he can do rather than who he is. It’s a quiet insecurity, one he keeps buried deep, but it’s there all the same.

But when you hold him like this, when you tell him how much he means to you, it feels like a weight has been lifted. You don’t just see him as the reliable guy who carries the heavy stuff or takes care of the hard work. You see him—Jack, with all his flaws and strengths, and you love him anyway.

His tail thumps against the ground now, a silent giveaway to how much your words mean to him. He doesn’t need to say anything; the way he holds you, the way his tail wags furiously, tells you everything.

In your arms, Jack feels something he’s not sure he’s ever felt before—completely understood and appreciated for who he is, not just what he can do. And for him, that’s more than enough.

Epel Felmier

The two of you were walking back to Ramshackle, Epel chatting animatedly about something funny that had happened during class. His hands were moving as he spoke, when a sudden whistling sound cut through the air.

You didn’t even have time to react before Epel’s hand shot out, summoning a precise burst of magic that sent the incoming magift disc flying back in the direction it came. It hit its mark with a loud clang before tumbling harmlessly to the ground.

“Idiots need to watch where they’re aiming,” he muttered, brushing it off like it was nothing. Then, without missing a beat, he reached for your hand, his grip firm yet casual as he led you back toward your dorm.

The moment you stepped inside, you turned to him, your arms wrapping around him tightly. He let out a small, surprised “Whoa,” his hands instinctively coming up to hold you back.

“Hey, what’s this for?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a bit of embarrassment. He hugged you back anyway, his fingers lightly rubbing your back, but when you didn’t pull away, his expression shifted to concern.

“You alright?” he asked, leaning back just enough to look at your face. “Did that disc scare ya? I didn’t think—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted softly, squeezing him tighter. “I just love you, Epel. And that was so cool. You were so quick, and you didn’t even hesitate. I’m… I’m really lucky to have you.”

Epel blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process your words. Then, as your words sank in, his cheeks flushed a deep pink, and his lips curled into a small, bashful smile.

“You think… I’m cool?” he asked, his voice almost timid, as if he didn’t quite believe it.

“I know you are,” you said, your tone firm and sincere.

Something in him seemed to shift at that. Epel pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly now, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder.

He’d spent so much of his life feeling like he had to prove himself—to his family, to his classmates, even to himself. Being underestimated because of his height or his face had always left a bitter taste in his mouth, pushing him to work harder, fight stronger, and shout louder just to be taken seriously.

But in this moment, none of that mattered. You didn’t see him as fragile or weak, didn’t treat him like someone who needed to prove anything. You saw him for who he was, and you loved him for it.

The warmth in his chest spread to his face as he buried it against your neck, his arms tightening just a little more. He didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the silence speak for him.

When he finally did speak, his voice was quiet but steady. “I’m lucky to have you too, y’know. More’n I deserve.”

You smiled, holding him just as tightly, letting your presence remind him that he was already more than enough. For the first time in a long time, Epel felt like he didn’t need to prove a thing. You thought he was cool, and that was all he needed to hear.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was mid-sentence, his voice rising in animated fervor.

“And that’s why this tale of heroism directly correlates to Lord Malleus's own virtues! Truly, how could anyone miss the resemblance? Why, if they merely paid attention—”

You didn’t let him finish. Stepping forward, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, pressing your cheek against his chest.

Sebek froze instantly, the words dying in his throat. “Wha—? What are you doing?!” His voice pitched higher, equal parts flustered and confused.

His arms hovered awkwardly for a moment before he tentatively settled them around you, his usual composure crumbling. “Are you hurt? Is something wrong? Speak to me at once!”

When you didn’t respond immediately, Sebek’s grip tightened slightly, and he pulled back just enough to inspect you, his eyes scanning your face with concern. “What has happened? Are you unwell?”

You smiled softly at him, your fingers curling into his uniform as you leaned back into his chest. “I’m fine, Sebek. Really. I just love you.”

Sebek blinked, his mouth opening and closing as your words sank in. He seemed at a rare loss for words as you continued, “I love how passionate you are, how much you care about the things and people you love. It makes me love you even more.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his lips pressed together tightly. Then, without warning, he hugged you back gently, yet firmly, his arms encircling you as though he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

“...I see,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

Sebek had spent so much of his life trying to live up to expectations—his own, his family’s, even the ones he imagined Malleus might have for him. He had always been painfully aware of his mixed heritage and the silent whispers it inspired, of the way his fiery temper and unwavering loyalty often set him apart from others.

Yet with you, none of that seemed to matter. You didn’t judge him for his intensity or his quirks; you embraced them, cherished them, even. And in moments like this, when he felt your arms around him and heard your steady words of love, he was reminded that he didn’t need to prove himself to you.

You saw him—not just as a knight or a servant, but as Sebek.

“I…” His voice wavered for a moment before he steadied it. “I love you as well.”

The words were simple, but the way his arms tightened around you spoke volumes. For all his loud proclamations and larger-than-life demeanor, Sebek’s love was quiet and steadfast, an anchor that held firm against any storm.

And as he rested his chin atop your head, silently committing this moment to memory, he realized something: as long as he had you, everything else seemed just a little less important.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #ace trappola x reader #ace x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #jack x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #epel x reader #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader

1K notes · View notes