#you've got to start somewhere
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bacchuschucklefuck · 8 months ago
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soon it'll be dawn again
transcript under the cut ⏬
page 01
Fig: no way? - you're still up?
Riz: Wh– yes?
Riz: Why'd I not be.
page 02
Fig: I me~~ean - that took.
Fig: whole day.
Riz: Yeah?
Fig: 'm beat.
Riz: you should sleep.
page 03
Fig: nah. my guy's still up
Fig: I wanna hang out.
page 04
Riz: That's really nice.
Fig: Hah! - Nobody ever expects an Archdevil rockstar to be nice.
Riz: … yeah. - 's just budget work tho. (the stuff I'm working on) - I've heard it's boring.
page 05
Fig: yeah, but you do it…
Riz: It keeps things going, right? - Nothing happens if nobody sits down and - does the thing.
Fig: That's right… - though. Yeah.
page 06
Fig: sometimes it's someone else who - doesn't want the same thing to happen.
Riz: … - mm.
page 07
Riz (off screen): …It took me a long time to get that not everyone likes doing what I do. - 's probably because you guys are so nice– - or. - kind.
Riz (off screen): to anyone too, not just. - the people you /love/.
page 08
Riz: that's not how it is elsewhere. - The world's– not. hostile. - but 's not like it's kind.
Riz: So I'm doing as much as I can now… 
page 09
Fig: Hey.
Riz: ?
Fig: Go dig some dirt with me.
page 10
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - oh you meant like - actual dirt. (not incriminating information)
Fig: o yea.
Fig: there's clay in the backyard soil. - sometimes when I'm sun deficient or something I go touch dirt for a bit.
page 11
Fig: here u go
page 12
Riz: uh
Fig: now we make a thing! - 'm pretty good at freehanding a bowl.
Fig: I'll show u
page 13
Fig: just– yep, flatten that out as evenly as u can, then–! - actually ur nails'd be so good at cutting out the strip. [larger than usual space] wait. - wait. wait u can carve patterns with them! we HAVE to try
Riz: uh - What. do I carve?
Fig: anything!!!
page 14
Fig: and– yep just seal the inside uh. seam?
Fig: yep that works - okay time's up! all contestant hands up
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - okay - wh. what's next?
Fig: haha - watch this.
(sound effect text): FWOO—MP
page 15
Riz: WH– DON'T JUST DO THAT???
Fig: Now it's fired!
Riz: THAT WAS NOT SAFE
Fig: (actually it's just dry. if u add water rn it'll dissolve)
Fig: ok catch!
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - careful!!
Fig: dw no need haha
page 16
Riz (thought bubble): oh - it's warm…
Fig: now I want you to throw this.
page 17
Fig: u gotta do it - c'mon
page 18
Riz: wh– - It's like 3AM right now
Fig: oh it's not /fired/ fired it's not gonna make a loud noise
Riz: And then just? leave a pile out here?
Fig: pour water over it & it'll be gone I told u
Riz: but
page 19
Fig (off screen): RIz.
page 20
Fig: I've done all this before.
Fig: Can you trust that at least?
page 21
Riz: no, I– - I do. - I trust you.
page 23
Riz: okay what happens now
(sound effect text): glob
page 24
Fig: we do it again!
page 25
Riz: wh. [larger than usual space] What do you mean. (this clay's too wet also)
Fig: see! you're already learning
Fig: [blank speech bubble] - there are flows that are futile to fight. - The world changes.
Fig: Things change.
page 26
Fig: I've learned my lessons with "forevers". - But - as an artist
Fig: I can give you one thing: - You can always do it again.
page 27
Fig: most of everything depends on the rest of the world, - but this. - making new. - that's yours as long as you want it.
page 28
Fig: So?
page 29
Riz: Yeah. - Yeah! - let's make another one.
#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#fhjy#riz gukgak#figueroth faeth#technically no spoilers in this comic but listen. I Will be gloating in tags. I will Never Shut Up#for the record!! this was fully conceptualized and sketched Before the finales. I started sketching this after the boat fight#and when murph closed riz's arc this season with ''maybe it's okay to change and welcome new things'' I pogged irl#I am simply the best at reading comprehension what can I say! (<- grown ass man with roughly the same perspective on teenhood as the player#fucked up that this became so long (almost 30 squares lol) that it took me this long to finish#lmao I say all that but. genuinely I am delirious and my feelings abt riz's arc this season are so big... I was getting psychic backlash#for a While lol. it was scary!!#had to sit down and do therapy on my own ass for a bit. the teenage apocalyticisation is real. that word isnt tho Im pretty sure#truly anything you do at that age feels like that's it that's all you've got going on forever. and its not true! its simply not true#you'll be okay my guy. you love your friends so so much but also there will be more to love out there#this one goes out to fellow aroaces and also folks leaving somewhere theyve called home for a long time#nothing lasts forever but that means new things come by too! ur ability to make new is infinite!!#there's no magnum opus people leave but new people come by too etc. I am too sleepy to remember what I wanted to say uhhh#well. thank u for looking at my art. I think thats the one pack it n ship it boys
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miniagula · 17 days ago
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movie sonadow would be so l umity-coded…and i say this bc their dynamic is similar to the games but with a different and tender perspective: they both empathize deeply with each other now, and this shadow is not as reticent or closed off bc of that. that being said: movie!sonic would ABSOLUTELY 'YOU'RE the sweet potato!' the hell out of shadow
#i say l umity bc they're my fave yardstick for romantic relationship progression#between two characters who're barely just starting to know themselves let alone their feelings#and bc they're cute. and i have been thinking abt (made sleepless over‚ really) sonic being SO ecstatic to find shadow alive#i just see movie!sonic being more physically affectionate n movie!shadow (w the both of them having already seen each other at their worst)#feeling less of a need to put up a front. not much to hide from the guy you pleaded with to kill you on the moon yk?#speeds over‚ loops his arms and spins him 'round#he would be SO excited to show shadow fun earth stuff#and on a deeper level‚ i think a liiiiiittle bit of it'd be projection#he knows their situations aren't the same. but yet again‚ here's another hedgehog in a strange new world#and he wants to give him everything he wished he'd had when he arrived#so he shows him crappy reality tv and new kinds of foods and other kinds of constellations‚#the proper way to give a fist bump (bc shadow was going to genuinely punch him and he had to explain)‚ and books from the library#they get more movies. sonic teaches him how to play mario kart. he knux and tails induct him into their baseball games#and sonic is delighted to find they have the same problem of hitting the ball Way Too Hard#he answers every question shadow has to the best of his ability#and like. the Main Thought that's been plaguing me is that one day he gets shadow a picture frame#and - idk how sonic got it‚ just roll with it - sonic reveals the picture of shadow and maria#and explains that tom had that section of his old cave‚ the one w the picture of longclaw excavated and preserved#and he doesn't know how tom did it‚ but now she's in his new home too. he doesn't have to leave her behind just bc he found somewhere new#basically trying to show him that it's okay to grieve and to KEEP grieving. that just bc you've been understood‚ that love goes away.#but yeah. they drive me nuts#sonadow#sonic movie 3 spoilers#sth
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chronicowboy · 6 months ago
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nothing can teach you the perils of gambling quite like spotify's six free skips...
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kariachi · 1 year ago
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Late Night Thoughts With Achi: Consider- the reason humans yearn for sapient life out amongst the stars is because after evolving alongside other sapient species from our genus they've all been gone for like 40k years and we're lonely.
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cxpperhead · 1 year ago
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You know Copperhead is going to be one of those inmates whenever he's locked up in Arkham. As a deadly snake man with a penchant for being a natural escape artist, it's almost certain he requires one of their most secure cells made to hold difficult-to-contain patients along with Clayface, Poison Ivy and Mr. Freeze. The first time he was sent there, he broke out almost instantly as soon as he awakened, making him very cautious of returning again.
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gentlethorns · 1 year ago
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sigh grief and loss is everywhere. doors close that can't be reopened and yet i still scratch at them like a lost dog. why
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fridayyy-13th · 2 years ago
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WIP snippet game
woahhh tysm @ollieofthebeholder for tagging me with the words star, hope, green, watch, and thread!! now to scour my absolutely ridiculous number of TMA WIPs (most of which are really just notes, which narrows it down a little bit) to see what all i've got.
star: ohohoho right off the bat we've got one from my favorite WIP! it's a multichapter fic i've been calling Minutes to Midnight. it's still in its early stages, writing-wise (in actuality this thing has been in my brain for over a year...), but this bit occurs somewhere around the middle of the fic.
Martin glanced at Jon out of the corner of his eye. The other man had his head tipped back and tilted to the side, staring into the foggy night sky. What was he thinking, Martin wondered. Did he think if he stared hard enough he’d be able to see the stars? Jon huffed, and in one swift motion he pulled the ribbon of his mask undone, setting it gently in his lap and looking back up with a frown. “I wish the skies were clearer tonight,” he told Martin, “the view of the night sky from here is…honestly, one of my favorite things in the world.”
hope: this one actually shows up kinda a lot! but i picked an excerpt from a safehouse fic i'm working on, that's got a sequel w/MAG 160 canon divergence (and as a result, a lot of ow). this one, though, is a lot more like the stuff i've already written—that is to say, it's bittersweet. and also currently untitled.
Minutes later, bed passably-made and jackets dropped into a heap on the floor, the two shuffled under the heavy green blanket Jon had found. From there...Jon wasn't really sure what to do. Well, go to sleep, obviously. But before that. Martin lay on his own side of the bed, and Jon lay on theirs, hands inches apart in the space between them. And they wanted to reach out, more than anything, but something gave them pause. Hell, they'd been holding hands near-constantly since leaving the Lonely, but it...it felt more intimate, the thought of taking his hand here. Like if they did, it would be tantamount to telling him I'm hopelessly in love with you. The last thing they wanted was to cross a boundary.
green: ah yes, the WIP where i shamelessly project my aroflux-ness onto jon, lol. it's another safehouse fic!! i call it Friday I'm in Love, bc if there's one thing i hate that i love to do, it's steal song names/lyrics for titles. and also i just really like the song. yes most of the information in italics is cribbed from various wikipedia pages and is probably gonna be narrowed down at least a little bit in the final draft.
“Camellias are probably my favorite, I think,” said Martin. “They look a bit like roses? I don’t know if you know them.” At that moment, a slew of information forced its way into Jon’s mind. Camellia is a genus of flowering plants in the family Theaceae, and it is native to eastern and southern Asia. There are somewhere between 100 and 300 species, with disputes over the exact number, along with around 3,000 hybrids. In floriography, it generally means gratitude and perfection. Red camellias mean unpretending excellence, or “you’re a flame in my heart.” White camellias mean “you’re adorable,” or perfected loveliness. Pink camellias mean “longing for you.” They are evergreen shrubs that grow up to 7.62 meters tall, with simple, serrated, typically glossy leaves. They—Jon shook his head, stopping the flood of information. “Ah, um, I Know them now.” “Oh.” Jon rushed to say, “They’re- they’re nice, it’s just…” “Yeah, I- I know.” “Er, I like…gardenias,” said Jon, rather lamely.
watch: this here is part of a fix-it AU that essentially boils down to "hey. hey what if they were all friends before the Archives transfer. what then." this WIP in particular is specifically qpr!jonsasha, and the groundwork for that.
The next morning, there was a to-go coffee cup on her desk, with some packets of sugar and creamer right beside it. On the side of the cup was a yellow sticky note. Thank you again, for yesterday. Figured I'd pay you back; I hope this is sufficient. —Jon She smiled at him, as he was not-so-subtly glancing at her to watch her reaction. “Thanks, Jon.” He returned to his work with a poorly hidden smile. The sight of it filled her with warmth.
thread: eyyy we've got Spider Trauma™️ (and not-shown-here hurt/comfort). this one's really putting the "rough" in "rough draft" though, i decided to play around a bit with switching character perspectives as well as switching between 3rd- and 2nd-person POVs and verb tenses. but it is a oneshot! so hopefully it'll be done sooner rather than later.
Jon was not doing well, all things considered. He'd shut himself up in his office, once again ardently wishing his door had a lock. Not for the reasons he used to; he'd long since grown past the days of shutting his friends out, figuratively and literally, and now was intensely grateful they'd decided he was worth keeping around despite...everything about how he'd acted when they all first transferred, really. No, right now he wanted privacy because— Old cardboard pages under your hands, sticking to your fingers and not letting you go, gossamer thread leading you closer and closer to the door where a monster awaits its next meal—
tags (no pressure!!): @three-magpies-in-a-trenchcoat @gentlemancrow @radical-dadical-rafael @dramaticdads with the words flower, space, read, blue, and sing!
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catboyrightsdefender · 2 years ago
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that post about fan mail got me scrolling through my inbox and looking at all my 134 unanswered asks and im. feeling so sad now
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eggmeralda · 8 months ago
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spent an hour making a list related to That Fandom, followed by an hour listening to the haunting vibe playlist, followed by an hour reading the fanfic we wrote about my band and crying actual tears bc it's the peak of comedy, followed by an hour thinking about all the things I've ever created that will never be seen by anyone either bc I don't know how to show them to people or bc people just think they're bad but either way I'll never know the true answer, and now it's 10.30pm and I've basically experienced the full spectrum of emotions: autism, existential crisis, silly, and the feeling of being unseen
#the list btw was working out which south park character canonically gets the most bitches. kyle btw#but yeah the 4th hour was typical after experiencing the adrenaline rush laugh attack high of the 3rd hour#(with an air of bittersweet nostalgia for the joys of 2nd year uni)#and the 4th hour was just thoughts of like. do you ever make the best thing you've ever made and then you don't know what to do with it#even if the thing itself isn't objectively Good. but it's still the best thing in comparison to everything else you've made#and for me it's the messily written script for that film i wrote#and the album I'd been recording since 2020 and finally finished at the start of this year#and like. both of them i spent so much time on and both were for my own enjoyment#like the process of making them is fun#but then once they're finished what do you do? do you show other people? or do you just keep it to yourself#keeping it to yourself is the safer option bc you don't know what anyone's opinion of it is#the only thing is that it feels trapped inside i guess? like you've just got it to yourself for no reason#at least put it somewhere. post it online or print/record it in physical form. so you have some way of proving it ever existed#but then if you do post it online there's only four options:#1. no one sees it bc they don't know it's there (neutral)#2. people see it and enjoy it and they tell you (good)#3. people see it and hate it and they tell you (bad)#4. people possibly see it but whether or not they engage with it you'll never know and no one says anything about it (????? worst option)#and you don't wanna be obnoxious about it by reposting it all the time so you just assume either people don't like it or just don't care#and then leave it#and it's not even anyone's fault it's just you have no idea where you stand with anything#and then that leads back to the question of why would you make something in the first place if all you're gonna do is finish it#if the process is enjoyable then just make small versions of it so the finish doesn't feel as wasted#more emphasis on the making experience. which is the fun part#idek what i'm talking about. does anyone get this#i'm not saying no one should ever make big things bc it's pointless or anything#but also what is the point in finishing something massive if it's just gonna be left collecting dust in your mind. and possibly storage#if it always feels like this i'm just gonna never finish anything ever again. and then everything will stay fun forever <3#ramble
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tojisun · 3 months ago
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when the older man is the one with daddy issues so he's nurturing and careful and indulgent, but he's also so teasing when he's taking you apart. how he draws out the pleasure until you're crying, splintering at the edges, your words coming out in weak babbles. until you're pawing at him, begging for anything - your orgasm, a kiss, him to engulf you in his warm embrace.
but also thinking about how he loves to feed you; cooking up healthy and delicious meals, while you're over there in the living room busying yourself because last time you helped him, the two of you got distracted and forgot that there were potatoes in the oven.
or how he just loves buying you clothes; from shirts and sweaters to pants and skirts, to toques and scarves, down to the things you didn't even know you needed like an extra pair of gloves or stockings cuz you've torn the other one, remember?
and how he starts looking for a bigger house, somewhere with a bigger lot and a wider garage, and more rooms cuz you mentioned that you wanted your own office; that your back is starting to hurt from working in the dining room, with those old but lovingly worn out seats. and this one that he found has a bigger kitchen, with an island and tall, tall windows, and a place for a chandelier.
yeah, he's already imagining cooking for you here while you watch him from the island. this way, you're closer to him; easier for him to reach for a kiss.
and just also thinking about how he always picks you up from work; he's never late and sometimes, he'd even be too early. it's not even like he works odd hours because he should be finishing up at the same time that you do, but he rather bring his work to home - wrap up while you're already in bed, snoozing, not knowing that he crawled back out of it after he's cuddled you to sleep - than not pick you up at all. he loves the drive, anyway, and he's a senior at his position so he's got room for flexibility.
it's just, he is so greedy of every chance he can get to be with you. to be of service for you.
thinking about all of this knowing this is so john price :(
(ext)
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i-love-you-just-the-same · 3 months ago
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something I do a lot without even meaning to is call people babe, honey, sweetheart, etc, but it's usually in a context that's a joke not like just in passing etc. it's the southern or the whore in me, idk. it's not even flirty, I just do it for the silliness. but when someone does something especially nice for me I occasionally go "you're the love of my life" or "we're getting married." no idea why I chose to express myself this way, but usually it gets a blush or a giggle (very rarely do I do this to a man).
however, I would do it to simon riley.
it's some small task that would only take ten minutes max. he brought you a sandwich from the mess or he finished up a bit of paperwork for you. so you forget yourself in glee and it slips out.
"Riley, we're getting married"
he freezes as you chirp out a "thanks babe!" as an afterthought and munch while filling out a health survey.
he just stares at you, nods, and heads off. you thought that'd be the end of it until he turns up an hour later with a bountonniere and a bouquet. he shoves the later at you.
"heard you say you liked these once" he mumbles as he sits down beside you. you look up confused at him.
"Riley, what are these for?" you say with a little grin. you've never got flowers from anyone before.
"my wife gets what she wants. always." he says, placing a hand on your thigh. "c'mon. not open much longer."
your eyes widen at his words. he tugs you up and out, asking if you have anything you want to wear or should you guys stop somewhere to pick up a dress. he swears he won't look beforehand, he'll just see you at the courthouse in it. he'll pay and he's got a dinner reservation afterward, sorry it's not before! do you want to take his last name?
please, doll, call him simon.
gaz is going to do pictures and price and soap will be witnesses. he's sorry it's rushed bird, but the quicker it's official the quicker he can start his husbandly duties.
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foone · 2 years ago
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I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"
But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.
Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!
I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.
Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.
Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)
And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.
You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.
So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?
My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.
(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)
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lxvvie · 7 months ago
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Couples shit with Simon Riley, Newlywed Edition:
You and Simon got married, and Price was the Best Man. Kyle stood on your side, and Soap was the flower girl. He blew bubbles instead of throwing flower petals because you and Soap thought it would be funnier. There's a picture floating around somewhere of Simon staring rather concerningly at a particularly large bubble Soap blew, too.
You two swearing you're gonna fuck all night long on your wedding night... only to crash as soon as you hit the bed. You didn't even take your clothes off. The sexathon came later. You two just woke up, looked at each other, happy as a pair of clams, and bloody hell, you made an honest man out of Simon fuckin' Riley.
Getting each other gag gifts as a wedding present. You were serious about getting him that cockring weren't you, love? Well, he has all the time in the world to make use of it.❤️
Noticing how relaxed and settled Simon is after you two start your married lives. Well, as relaxed and settled as Simon could be, all things considered, but he's not as anxious. He's... content. Happy.
Simon still can't believe it though. He's married. He's bloody married. You married him. A right bastard like him, at that. Simon makes a promise to himself and you to never turn what you two have into the shit show that defined his parents' union, promises to never become the asshole his father was, and it gives him all the strength he needs to combat his demons. He'll fight them every day if means seeing your smiling face, luv.
Simon also using the fact that he's married for shock value for everyone other than 141. He doesn't really tell the others but also doesn't bother addressing the news when it gets out. He just lets it be. It's amusing, though, seeing the confusion and shock on the other soldiers' faces when they find out. "Wait, Lieutenant Riley's married? He has a missus?" Correction: "I'm the missus."
He also jokes with the rest of 141 on some, "Sorry, lads, 'm an honest bloke now," which makes the others snort. Will also use a variant for you, too. "No can do, lovie, you made an honest missus outta me." Pfft.
You've also taken to calling him the Hubster ("Pretty cute, eh, Si-bear?" ".........") and you're banned from saying it in public lmao.
Similarly, you use the shock value to troll your associates. Your coworkers were not expecting Simon of all people to be the one you married. You call HIM the Missus? ("Sure do.") The way they see it, you two are polar opposites. Well, they do say that opposites attract.
Simon buying a chain for his wedding band for when he deploys because even with the gloves on, he refuses to wear his ring near his gun. It's a symbol of you, one of the best fuckin' things to ever happen to him, and he'll be damned if he ever lets the two touch.
You jokingly suggest that because Simon has really taken to the missus thing and ran with it, he should get it tattooed on him. This being Simon bloody Riley, he goes and does exactly that. The shock on your face was worth it all. Cheers, darling.
You two holding hands if only to look at your wedding bands side by side and bloody fuckin' hell, you're falling in love with each other all over again.
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bi-writes · 12 days ago
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Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.
he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.
"'ello, love."
"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.
"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."
"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."
"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."
"kyle--"
"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"
"y-yeah..."
"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"
"yeah..."
"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"
you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.
"good girl. you sit tight."
so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.
he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.
you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.
"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.
"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.
"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"
"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.
"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."
you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.
"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"
kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.
"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.
"mhm. in the car already."
"a-and the diaper bag?"
"in the boot."
"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"
"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."
he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.
"you're doing so well, love. so well."
"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."
"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."
"o-okay."
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she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.
in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.
he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.
the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?
back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.
in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.
you deserve it.
"is that her?"
kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?
kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.
"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."
he laughs a little, shaking his head.
"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"
kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.
"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."
he stands, raising a brow.
"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."
"no, i have the right--"
"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."
"kyle?"
your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.
the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.
"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"
kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.
"and dad's name?" she asks.
kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.
"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."
he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.
"i heard you outside, kyle."
"did you?"
"and i heard you just now."
"mm."
you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.
"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"
kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.
"who says you don't belong to me?"
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luminni · 16 days ago
Text
I have a strangely specific idea in my head of Captain John Price meeting you, a twenty something year old grad student, at the pub he frequents on leave. It's close to your uni and you let your friends drag you away from your term paper for a night to dry and de-stress. You end up dancing and mingling around the crowded space with your friends, slowly watching as they start talking to some nice looking guys and you get stuck with some finance bro who's trying to mansplain cryptocurrency and investments to you. You excuse your self to the bathroom only to escape from the agonizing conversation and find yourself up at the bar. Trying to be the responsible (and mostly sober) friend, you pay and close your friends tabs because they're drunk enough already, when you see him. Leaning over the bar, button up shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the nicer pants he still had on from his meeting earlier in the day made him standout from the usual college kids and drunk regulars. Nursing a whiskey with an orange slice and running a hand through his salt and pepper hair, you realize you've been staring when his gaze shifts in your direction and you lock eyes.
You realize you should probably say something or at least try to pretend you weren't just ogling him because he has to be the most attractive man you've ever seen. But he just silently flags over the bartender and orders you a copy of his drink. When you try to stutter out an apology because you had already closed your tab, he just hits you with the,
"I know, 's why I'm paying" in a gravelly and commanding tone that makes your hair stand on end. So you mutter a thank you and lean your back against the bar. He hands you your drink when it comes, waving off your second attempt to thank him, instead saying,
" 's dangerous for ya to be hanging around here on your own."
"Oh I'm not," you reply quickly, "I'm here with friends, they're just," you gesture to the dense crowd, "somewhere in there"
He hums, looking at you from over his shoulder, watching the way your throat bobs as you take a sip of the amber liquid. Barking out a small laugh when your face screws up at the intense, bitter taste. Finally turning to lean his back against the bar top after finishing the last of his drink, crossing his burly arms in front of his chest, looking down at you as you cough a bit.
"Not used to it huh?" He grins
"Oh be quiet" you tease, slapping him on his bicep, eyes widening at the solid block of muscle you just hit, "Not my fault uni kids only drink shitty hard seltzers"
"Uni?" he questions, one eyebrow raised
"Stuck in grad school" you confirm
"Livin' on this campus?" He asks, gesturing vaguely with a tilt of his head.
You nod your head, "Got a little place with my roommate." Shifting the focus, you look up at him, "So how about you? No offense but you don't exactly look like a college student."
He chuckles, "No, no I couldn't pass for that 'f I tried." He took a deep breath, "'ve got a flat a little ways away I stay in when 'm on leave."
"Leave?"
"When 'm off duty," he tries to explain but you just tilt you head, "Military." He explained again
"Ohhh" you respond, exchanging the simple pleasantries back and forth with him for quite some time, what's your major? where are your from? that sort of thing, until, after a brief silence,
"Boyfriend?" He asked quickly, seemingly out of nowhere. You looked up at him startled, an awkward laugh escaped your lips.
"Wouldn't you like to know," you joked, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground for a moment as silence filled the conversation, "...but no, I- I don't have one"
He shifted slightly, "Unless you want to count the guy who tried to explain the budgeting to me earlier tonight." You laughed
"he think you didn't know what that was or something?" He smirked
"apparently" You giggled, missing how his eyes narrowed in fondness.
Suddenly you jumped up to stand straight, "Oh I love this song!" you beamed, starting to sing along to the lyrics of what he immediately knew was "Reelin' in the years".
"So you're a Steely Dan fan huh?" He moved closer to you
"Love 'em" Your smile was infectious, "What? you're old so you have to like them."
He scoffed, "37 isn't that old."
"37? Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."
That got a full laugh out of him, a surge of pride went through your chest as he leaned his head back and ran a hand over his face. As the song faded out and the music went back to stuff you either didn't know, didn't like, or both, you sighed. Looking over at him to find him admiring you already, he strode closer to you and leaned down to mutter right in your ear,
"c'mon doll, 've got a vinyl player at my flat." He leaned back and gestured with his over his shoulder and to the door.
It was your turn to scoff, "For real? I don't even know your name!?"
Your puzzled expression warmed his heart a bit, "It's John."
"That doesn't change anything." you rolled your eyes and watched as his eyebrows raised. You held his gaze for what felt like an eternity as your resolve faltered in his presence. "Just- let me tell my friends!" you spat out, "and it's," you yelled your name to him as you turned to find your friend among the crowd. He repeated your name to himself with a smile and grabbed his old Carhartt jacket for you to wear.
A/n: I'll write more for this later teheheh
Edit: I did write more pt.2
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dilf-docs · 15 days ago
Text
Call It What You Want
husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader
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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 :)
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"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?!!!?
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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"
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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
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"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
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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
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