#PASCAL interview questions

[jaehyum]

pedro pascal -> jimmy kimmel 250324

[22thumbs]

Dude. Does there exist any Mandalorian video edits of Din and Grogu listening to hip hop in the Razor Crest, maybe specifically 90s hip hop?!

Imagine Din in the Razor Crest with Grogu listening to a Tribe Called Quest through the speakers.

That video of Grogu pushing buttons... he's just cycling through Din's collecting of old school hip hop.

Via vivi-heavenly

[lazysoulwriter]

no calls go unanswered - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you. ♡ content: fluff, celebrity!Pedro Pascal x wife!reader, FaceTime call during live interview, casual flirting, audience reactions, bilingual teasing, wife laughing on air, Pedro being soft and whipped.

---

Jimmy is mid-question, something about The Last of Us and the intensity of filming in the cold, when Pedro’s phone buzzes on the armrest beside him.

He glances at it once, does a little double take, and mutters, “Oh no.”

Jimmy raises a brow. “Everything okay?”

Pedro lifts his hand apologetically, already reaching for the phone. “I’m so sorry—my wife’s calling. I have to answer. I always answer.”

The audience laughs, thinking it’s a bit, but Pedro’s already tapping the green button.

“Hi, amor,” he says, screen lighting up with your face.

You’re in your kitchen, wearing one of his sweaters and sipping coffee. “Hi, bebe. You forgot to pick up the almond milk again.”

Pedro blinks. “I’m on Jimmy Fallon right now.”

Your eyes widen for half a second—then you burst into laughter. Loud, real, belly-deep laughter that carries right into his mic.

The crowd erupts.

“Díos mio” you say between giggles. “Are you serious? Right now?”

Pedro holds up the phone like he’s showing off a masterpiece. “Say hi to America.”

“Hi, America!” you beam, still laughing. “This man left his socks on the bathroom floor again, by the way.”

“Babe,” he groans, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re exposing me on national television.”

You smirk. “Good. They should know how real love survives sock chaos.”

Jimmy’s nearly crying with laughter. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened on this show.”

Pedro’s grinning now, eyes soft. “Can I call you back in twenty minutes, my love?”

“Only if you promise to bring almond milk and stop leaving your towels on the bed.”

He sighs. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you sing, blowing him a kiss before hanging up.

Pedro turns back to Jimmy, cheeks a little pink. “Sorry. She forgets I’m famous sometimes.”

Jimmy leans in, teasing. “Honestly? So do we. You're just Pedro and Wife now. America's couple.”

The internet, of course, would clip the whole thing before the night even ends. One fan account captions it:

“He always answers her calls. I’m crying real tears.” Another adds: “Their chemistry is insane. She roasted him AND flirted mid-interview?? QUEEN.”

And the top comment just says:

“He found a real one.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[sweetlovepascal]

soft on main

pairings pedro pascal x actress!reader

summary pedro accidentally called you babe during a casual instagram live and the internet instantly lost its mind over the softest, most unexpected relationship reveal ever.

tags established relationship, unspecified age gap, fluff, accidental relationship reveal, public reactions, light teasing, and affectionate banter.

masterlist

pedro goes live from a hotel room during the press tour for the new film you’re both starring in.

he’s sitting cross-legged on the couch in a hoodie, giving him that sleepy-late-afternoon glow.

he waves at the screen. “hola, mis amores. what’s up? i’ve got twenty minutes before they drag me to another interview.”

a question flashes across the screen: “are you alone rn?”

pedro squints at it, then lets out a soft laugh. “nope. i’m with her.”

from offscreen, your voice floats in, unmistakably yours.

“tell them who you’re with.”

he glances over, can’t stop the way the corners of his mouth lift like they always do when you’re around. “she’s right here. the woman i get to call co-star—and, y’know, a few other things.”

you reply, a touch smug. “a few other things indeed.”

pedro reaches for the snack bowl and winces.

“you better not be eating the popcorn meant for both of us.”

he raises a guilty hand. “that depends. is it a crime if it’s really good popcorn?”

thwack. a popcorn kernel hits him square in the chest.

“hey—!” he yelps, mock-offended.

“she’s throwing snacks at me,” he tells the camera with a grin. “this is the level of love and respect i receive.”

“wait that’s??” “no bc that voice is unmistakable” “they’re together rn??” “the way he said ‘i’m with her’ like it’s the most natural thing 😭” “they’ve always been best friends but this… this feels different.” “he looks like he just exhaled after three years of holding his breath.”

pedro laughs, softer now. there’s something easy in the way his shoulders drop.

“yep. she’s been keeping me sane through this whole press tour.”

he scrolls through the questions, murmuring to himself. then, aloud:

“‘what’s your comfort food?’ hmm. that’s easy mexican food. or… those little chocolate things she keeps buying—you know the ones, babe?”

the room stills.

he blinks.

you freeze.

“babe?? excuse me??” “he said babe. i repeat. he. said. babe.” “no way. no acting. that slipped out too naturally.” “their best-friend act just died in real time 😭❤️” “he’s so gone for her and he doesn’t even know he said it.” “this isn’t a soft launch this is a crash landing into love”

pedro blinks again. “shit.”

you let out a laugh, hiding behind your sleeve. “good job, pascal.”

he rakes a hand through his curls, pink in the face. “so… yeah. that happened.”

the comments are scrolling so fast he can’t read them anymore.

“i need oxygen” “they’re in the same room. he called her babe. i am unwell.” “they're so giddy help they’re in love fr” “all their interviews make sense now they looked so smitten and we didn’t see it”

you climb up beside him on the couch, curling into the space like it’s where you’ve always belonged which it is.

pedro leans into you on instinct. like muscle memory.

you don’t say anything for a second. you just smile at him, all warmth and fondness.

he turns toward the camera again, rubbing the back of his neck.

“we’ve been together a while. a long while. we just… liked the parts that were ours. off-camera. quiet.”

you nod, voice softer now. “we were never hiding. just… protecting it.”

pedro’s gaze drops to your joined hands offscreen. his thumb rubs lightly over your knuckles.

“she’s been my person for years. through everything. and i didn’t mean to let that slip but maybe it’s time.”

“they were never hiding they were protecting it i’m sobbing” “this is what real love looks like holy sh—” “i feel like i just witnessed a wedding” “he looks so peaceful with her. like he finally exhaled.”

“i wasn’t supposed to say it,” pedro repeats, cheeks flushed. “but i’m glad i did.”

he turns toward you again. “she’s… my favorite person. the calm in my chaos. the reason i actually sleep on planes now.”

you laugh through a glassy smile. “you only sleep because i pack the melatonin and force you to wear that travel pillow.”

he grins wider. “and she makes fun of me constantly. but yeah. she’s my heart.”

there’s a long pause. not empty. full. overflowing.

the kind of silence you don’t want to interrupt.

“i don’t know how i ever did this without her,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “and now i never want to.”

“they’re so in love this isn’t even acting anymore” “this is the softest, most beautiful reveal of all time” “protect them at all costs omg” “i’ve never seen someone look at another person like that before”

you blink back tears and smile, playful to the end. “you ready to be softer on main?”

pedro chuckles and threads your fingers through his, resting them in his lap. “only if you are, mi amor.”

he doesn’t even bother ending the live right away. he just stays there with you.

pedro’s phone buzzes nonstop the second he opens his eyes.

you’re still asleep beside him, one hand curled under your cheek, hair a mess from the night before. he watches you breathe for a moment, like none of the internet just watched him call you babe in front of 100k people.

then his lock screen lights up again.

pedro’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.

he blinked blearily at the screen as it lit up beside him on the nightstand, vibrating so hard it nearly slid off.

oscar isaac: "you said babe on live???? 😭😭😭 call me rn."

bella ramsey: "you're trending, old man. i knew it."

and then: an avalanche.

he groans into the pillow.

“you broke the internet, didn’t you?”

“…possibly.”

pedro flips his phone to show you:

the memes.

one of pedro blushing with the caption:

“when you call your gf ‘babe’ on live and remember the world’s watching”

a screenshot of his face mid-slip, zoomed 300%:

“in this exact moment… he knew, he fucked up.”

you can’t stop laughing.

later that morning, the two of you are seated on a velvet couch for a press interview.

the host grins as he shuffles his cards and leans forward dramatically.

“so… pedro.”

pedro shifts beside you, one ankle crossed over his knee, hair artfully messy, the top of his shirt open just enough to be distracting.

“yes?” he answers playfully.

“we all saw the livestream.”

audience: screams

pedro puts a hand over his heart. “listen. in my defense—”

you cut in, smirking. “there is no defense. you called me babe in front of instagram live and then stared into the abyss like your soul left your body.”

the audience dies. pedro covers his face in mock agony.

“i blacked out!” he insists.

the host chuckles. “how long had you two been secretly together?”

pedro peeks at you. you raise an eyebrow, silently daring him.

he answers softly, “a while. years.”

the room quiets just slightly just enough for the honesty to land.

you nod. “we wanted to keep the magic for ourselves, you know? have something untouched.”

pedro glances at you with something unreadable in his eyes. not unreadable to you, though.

it’s love.

the kind people spend their whole lives trying to find.

“and now that it’s out?” the host asks.

pedro smiles soft and sure. “now we don’t have to lie about the best part of our day.”

[suuuupernovaaa]

obsessed

Pedro has been dating you in secret for a while, but can’t hold it in any longer.

MASTERLIST

The joy is radiating off of him in intoxicating waves. It fills the studio, effecting everyone there to watch him.

The host asks in a light hearted way, the question everyone wants to know - is the Pedro Pascal still single?

He runs his hands a little nervously down his black pants, and adjusts the buttons on his shirt, letting out a booming laugh.

“No, no,” he says, still laughing.

“No as in - you’re not single?” the host says, leaning forward eagerly. Pedro’s team had not prepped him for this possible answer. The ratings flash in his eyes.

“That’s right. I’m uh, locked down,” Pedro says, feeling a little silly putting it that way, but the pride in his voice is evident.

The crowd absolutely erupts, loud cheering and screaming, and Pedro waves them off with yet another laugh.

“Tell us about her! Who is she?”

When the studio quiets down, Pedro says, “Well, she’s someone… special. And smart. A writer, novelist, really. Beautiful and kind and too good for me.”

He means every word. Pedro is always sincere, but the admiration he feels for you is so evident in his voice as he speaks.

He loves you. He’s obsessed with you. He can’t hold it in any longer.

When he leaves the stage, he has a text from you.

Well, did you spill everything?

He grins as he replies.

I just told them the truth, that you’re amazing and I love you. I decided to leave out the part about your ass.

Your reply comes quickly.

Plenty of interviews left where you can talk about my ass, no worries. Love you baby, come home.

He can’t wait to do exactly that.

[timelinemh24]

Sorry for being annoying and correcting you but she is from Central America. According to the wiki he is from Honduras but I remember that there was somewhere in Spanish that said he is from Nicaragua.

The Lagoona actress in live action is from South America but her character is not.

tiktok disappoints yet again

[haleyatwell]

Would you rather relive your most awkward interview once a day or let each other pick your next movie roles for the rest of your life?

CHRIS EVANS, DAKOTA JOHNSON & PEDRO PASCAL Chris Evans, Dakota Johnson & Pedro Pascal Argue The Weirdest Would You Rather? Questions | LADbible (June 2, 2025)

[unsuperingyournatural]

chemistry

Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

The lights are warm. The cameras are rolling. And Pedro’s already throwing you under the bus.

“That was one time,” you say, half-laughing, half-mortified, as he grins at you from his chair. “My nails were wet.”

Pedro shrugs, shameless. “She ate an entire bowl of popcorn with chopsticks. And not even the long kind—the tiny ones from the sushi place.”

“I was being resourceful,” you shoot back, then lean toward the interviewer with mock seriousness. “This is what I’ve had to deal with for six months.”

Pedro leans toward his mic. “And I’ve loved every minute of it.”

You glance at him. He’s smiling so wide his eyes have nearly disappeared into those crinkles you’ve definitely stared at for too long on set. Your stomach flips, but you pretend it’s from the coffee.

The interviewer laughs. “I can already tell this is going to be fun. First question—how was it working together?”

Pedro wastes no time. “Terrible. She snores.”

Your mouth drops open. “I do not!”

“Okay, maybe not snoring, exactly,” he admits. “But you do this little sigh when you fall asleep during car rides.”

You blink. “You’ve watched me sleep?”

He gives you a look that’s far too confident for this early in the interview. “Of course.”

There’s a pause. The interviewer chuckles nervously, but you and Pedro are still staring at each other like you’re the only two people in the room.

It’s been like this since the table read—this strange gravitational pull, this banter that feels too natural. You’d both shown up in the same denim jacket, carrying the same iced coffee, and with—of all things—the same ridiculous cracked phone case with a tiny cartoon frog. He’d smiled when he saw yours. You’d cursed the universe and smiled right back.

“Okay,” the interviewer says, flipping to a new card, “lightning round. Say your answers at the same time. Ready?”

You nod, turning slightly toward Pedro. He does the same. The air shifts just a little, the way it always does when he’s close.

“Favorite comfort food?”

“Mac and cheese,” you both say.

You whip your head toward him. “No way.”

“Hot sauce on top,” he adds casually.

“Okay, that’s creepy.” You squint at him. “Do you have cameras in my apartment?”

“I don’t need cameras,” he says, lips twitching. “I just know you.”

Your pulse jumps at the way he says it—too smooth, too knowing, too much.

The next question comes fast. “Celebrity crush growing up?”

“Gillian Anderson,” Pedro says.

“David Duchovny,” you answer at the exact same time.

There’s a beat. Then you both burst out laughing.

“Are you guys serious?” the interviewer asks, eyes wide.

You laugh so hard you have to lean forward, your shoulder bumping into Pedro’s. He doesn’t move away.

“We’re just the same person in alternate timelines,” you say.

“I’ve been saying that,” Pedro agrees. “If you were a man, I’d probably have a confusing crush on you.”

You give him a sly look. “You already have a confusing crush on me.”

His smirk is slower this time, and when his eyes find yours, they don’t waver. “It’s not that confusing.”

Your breath catches, just a little. You wonder if the cameras picked that up.

“Okay, okay,” the interviewer says, waving a hand. “Before you two combust—what’s next for you?”

You shrug. “Hopefully another project together.”

“Or a cooking show,” Pedro adds. “Mac & Cheese with Hot Sauce: The Series.”

“Streaming nowhere,” you deadpan. “Because we forget to press record.”

“But the vibes?” he says, nudging your foot with his under the chairs.

“Impeccable,” you say, matching his smile.

There’s a pause after that. Not awkward—just full. Charged. You glance over at him, and he’s already looking at you, eyes soft, mouth curved in that lazy smile that always gets you into trouble.

You lower your voice, just enough so the mic doesn’t pick it up.

“Still think it’s not a crush?”

Pedro leans in, close enough that you can smell coffee and something warm and familiar on his skin.

“I said it wasn’t confusing,” he murmurs.

Your heart does something stupid. You smile—maybe a little too wide—and turn back to the interviewer before you get carried away.

You tell yourself it’s just chemistry.

You tell yourself it’s just banter.

But the way he’s still watching you?

You’re starting to think it might be something else entirely.

[bweeeb]

SWEETNESS

PEDRO PASCAL × READER

Summary: After an interview, the casua thing between you and Pedro ends up making the public suspect that he is not denying someone who is twenty-three years old.

warnings: nothing major, very cute, age difference but both are adults (obviously), bad writing maybe. Enjoy.

— So, according to the recordings, I think we all saw how close you two have become. How has that been?

You and Pedro smiled at the woman, who seemed to be around 35, interviewing you both.

The curiosity in her eyes was obvious.

— I think it’s been time well spent.

Pedro said, laughing and glancing at you, who was already laughing even before speaking.

— I think our characters demanded a connection of...

— Hatred and anger.

Pedro interrupted you, and you laughed loudly.

— Yes. That’s why I’ve been spending the past few months figuring out which tool is best for channeling hatred towards someone.

— Our makeup team has been covering up all the damage we’ve been doing to each other.

Pedro added, and your extravagant laughter made him laugh as well. You two really were doing some damage to each other, but that was your little secret.

— You can clearly see you can’t stand being around each other.

— No, we can’t.

You said with a smile, waiting for the next questio

— And the movie tackles a delicate theme about relationships and age gaps. What made you both accept such controversial roles? Especially you, Pedro...I’m sure you’ve broken all the minds of 20-something girls with this film.

— He definitely has.

— I don’t know what it is with you all nowadays, thinking an old guy like me is attractive. The conversation shifted back to you and Pedro, and the interviewer smiled with amusement. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, even more than you realized.

— Because you’re a man, you give off the feeling of being a man but don’t have to prove it. You know what I mean? You understand me?

You asked the interviewer, who nodded, agreeing that it was indeed a big difference.

— Of course, I’m a man, but an old one.

— Shut up and answer the question.

You said, laughing, as Pedro gave you a mock-offended look in his usual dramatic way.

— Honestly, I wasn’t going to take the role. When I got the audition, I just said, "Nope." But a lot of people kept telling me I’d be the perfect Nick for the book adaptation, and I hate disappointing my fans.

— So you still wouldn’t date someone in their twenties? Maybe?

— No.

Pedro quickly denied it, and you wanted to roll your eyes but didn’t.

— And you, darling?

Nice deflection, you thought, almost laughing at him.

— Ahm, I gave it a lot of thought, especially about the nude scenes I was informed of before accepting the role. I didn’t want to freak out my family. But once I learned more about the characters, I discovered the adaptation was from a book I love, so I couldn’t say no.

— That’s amazing. I heard you even got a real piercing for one of the scenes in the movie. Are you wearing it now?

The question was directed at you, and you smiled painfully, moving your hair away to reveal the piercings you got during filming.

— I added thirds and a helix. Yep, these guys are fine. — You pointed at the piercings farthest from the cartilage. — But I’ll be honest, this one is hurting a lot right now. I was even going to ask if someone could help me after this because it didn’t hurt this much when I got it done.

You laughed, and both the interviewer and Pedro looked at you with concern. Pedro leaned closer, moving your hair from your neck.

— Oh, crap, darling, it’s swollen. You need to take care of this. — He said in such a calm voice that even if the interview ended right then, the audience would already be glued to the screen. — Do you want to stop?

— I’m fine, thank you.

Without even realizing it, you brushed your thumb against Pedro’s wrist, where his hand rested on your neck to examine you.

Later, the interview was posted, and you almost laughed at how fast the channel edited it. Your ear was still throbbing like it was being pierced again, and lying on the couch, you felt like crying—not because it hurt that much, but because you hated the feeling of discomfort in your body.

— Darling?

You heard Pedro call you and looked over the back of the couch to see him smiling at you.

— Now I’ve finally wrapped everything up. No calls. Ugh. — He flopped onto the couch, and noticing your silence, he looked at you oddly. — What’s wrong?

— Nothing.

You denied it, not wanting to worry him.

— Look at me and say that.

He raised an eyebrow and laughed, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

— Nothing.

— Come on, baby, your ear is hurting, isn’t it?

You murmured your agreement. He then places a hand on your neck and places a kiss on your lips, you move closer, deepening the kiss until he pulls you into his chest, on the side that didn’t hurt.

— I’m sorry about this.

— It’s not your fault.

— No, but you seem exhausted by the pain, and I’m sorry for that.

— Thank you. Have you seen what everyone’s saying?

— I haven’t.

— You’re a terrible liar. They’re calling you a liar. You laughed, feeling comforted in his embrace.

— Me? A liar? Yo nunca mentiría.

— You’re a liar and ridiculously hot when you speak Spanish. “Oh, I’d never date anyone in their twenties,” and two seconds later, “And you, darling?”

— What’s wrong with that?

— Friends don’t call friends “darling.” Like, we’re friends who hook up, but you get my point.

You thought for a second and worried you’d sounded over the top in the classification you seemed to be giving you two.

— You’ve been the most argumentative exception I’ve ever made.

He said, and you nodded in agreement.

— I hope I am. I’d hate to find out another young woman took my spot as a legend.

— Legend for what?

— For being the youngest person in the world to hook up with the ridiculously hot Pedro Pascal. You said, and he laughed loudly. You didn’t know how far this would go, but you intended to enjoy the sweetness of that man for as long as it lasted

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

I hope everybody enjoy this.

Requests are opened!

[abbotjack]

Honestly I think Shawn, a grown man, can stand up for himself lol

“He’s a grown man, he can stand up for himself.”

Right—but that response isn’t as neutral as you think. It’s a deflection. A way of shifting responsibility for boundary enforcement back onto the individual who’s been placed in an uncomfortable position, rather than asking why he was put there in the first place.

Because this isn’t about whether Shawn Hatosy—or Pedro Pascal, or any other man—can assert a boundary. It’s about how we’ve created a culture that expects them not to. It’s about how consent is routinely ignored, overwritten, or turned into a joke in public space—especially when it comes to men, especially when it’s dressed up as irony, “feminist thirst,” or progressive kink-positivity.

It’s about the refusal to admit that consent isn’t just about sex.

Consent is about presence. It’s about participation. It’s about emotional safety. And it’s about power.

And that matters in every context—including fandom, celebrity culture, and the increasingly blurred space between admiration and projection.

When you call a male celebrity “daddy” in the middle of an interview—on camera, unprompted, fully aware it’ll go viral—you’re not giving a harmless compliment. You’re placing him inside a sexualized, hierarchical, kink-coded role, and demanding a performance. You’re not inviting him into a shared dynamic. You’re building one around him and daring him to resist.

And that’s not just parasocial behavior. That’s coercion. Coercion dressed up in a clickbait blazer and a winking “teehee.”

And patriarchy? Patriarchy loves that. Because patriarchy has always taught us that men, especially older, stoic, men, aren’t allowed to have boundaries. That they should be flattered by sexual attention. That their discomfort is a flaw in the man, not a failure of the situation. That a man’s silence means yes.

So when a male celebrity tenses up or shifts uncomfortably after being called “daddy,” we don’t pause. We dismiss him. We say:

“Come on, it’s just a joke.”

“He’s hot. He can take it.”

“It’s part of the job.”

That’s not the language of consent. That’s the language of normalized entitlement.

Now compare that to when I commented on Shawn Hatosy’s TikTok and said he was “so babygirl-coded.” And he liked it.

Why? Because “babygirl,” as it functions in contemporary online fan culture, isn’t built on dominance or performance. It doesn’t demand control. It doesn’t assign erotic authority. It’s a term that signals affection, vulnerability, softness—a playful, sometimes absurd, often tender reverence for men who deviate from traditional masculinity.

That kind of language lives within fandom culture—inside our sandboxes. And when I call someone “babygirl-coded,” that person can ignore it, engage with it, scroll past, or opt in. There’s no pressure. It’s an aesthetic label, not a demand. So when Shawn likes that comment, he’s participating on his own terms. That’s what parasocial consent looks like: voluntary, pressure-free, and rooted in choice.

Now imagine if I had written, “You’re such a daddy. Ruin me.” Totally different tone. Totally different power dynamic. Even if he never saw it, I’d still be inserting a kink-coded script into a public space as if he had agreed to it. And if he had seen it and felt uncomfortable? The onus would fall on him to disengage quietly or laugh it off, because culturally, we’ve given men almost no tools to say “no” without backlash.

Feminist methodology asks better questions:

Whose comfort is protected?

Whose silence is treated as consent?

Whose body is seen as public property?

Whose boundaries get overwritten for the sake of the bit?

We know the answers. They’re gendered. And they’re broken.

When a man is called “daddy” during a press tour, he’s not being asked to play. He’s being expected to perform, sexually, powerfully, on command. And if he doesn’t? The consequences aren’t just social, they’re structural. He’s seen as less fun. Less marketable. Less valuable as content.

That isn’t just unfair. It’s anti-consensual.

As Sara Ahmed writes, to be the one who names a problem is so often to become the problem. The one who says “this feels off,” “this crosses a line,” or simply, “this makes me uncomfortable” is marked as difficult, humorless, or ungrateful. We see this dynamic unfold constantly with male celebrities—especially those who don’t laugh when called “daddy” in person, or who subtly resist being pulled into a sexualized performance they didn’t agree to.

When a man sets a boundary, even quietly, he disrupts the fantasy. And instead of asking what created the discomfort, the culture asks why he couldn't just go along. Because admitting that men can say no, that they’re allowed to feel uneasy, that they don’t exist for our projection, requires challenging the very entitlement fandom often runs on.

So let’s be clear: You can thirst. You can spiral. You can bark, cry, and post your little essays about his shoulders in peace. You can call him whatever in your sandbox corner of the internet.

But forcing someone into your kink-coded fantasy in person, without their consent, and then reacting negatively when they don’t play along, isn’t empowering. It’s not subversive. It’s just public boundary crossing, dressed up as flirtation.

It’s not “owning the gaze.” It’s replicating it—just with the roles reversed.

And reversing the roles isn’t the same as dismantling them.

Roles—no matter how ironic or reversed—are still roles. And assigning someone a role without their participation isn’t liberation. It’s just performance under pressure.

So yes, he’s a grown man.

And that’s exactly why his boundaries matter—especially because he’s not just a celebrity, but a real person, and a parent. Being called “daddy” in person, during a professional setting, isn’t just awkward—it’s an unsolicited invitation into a kink-coded dynamic he didn’t agree to. And when that man is a father in real life, the term becomes even more jarring, blurring roles in a way that’s neither funny nor flattering. His visibility shouldn’t come with the expectation that he absorb sexual projection or emotional labor just to keep the mood light. Silence is not consent. And feminist ethics, if we’re actually practicing them, demand more than clever thirst and role reversal. They require awareness, accountability, and respect for boundaries, no matter who you’re talking to or how attractive you think they are.

And if your only defense is “He can take it,” you’ve already admitted he might not want it, and decided you didn’t care.

That’s not fandom. That’s entitlement. Wrapped in a punchline and passed off as progressive. (referencing this interview)

[charlesollielandooscararthur]

virginity

summary:Arthur and Y/N casually reveal on a podcast that they lost their virginity to each other, sending the internet—and Charles—into chaos. Twitter explodes with memes, Lando loves every second, and Charles is traumatized. warnings: just the talk of loss of virginity.

Arthur and I had done a lot of questionable things together—most of which ended up on the internet in one way or another. But this? This was about to be our biggest mistake.

It started off as a normal podcast.

We had been invited as guests on a popular F1-adjacent show, mainly because the internet had decided that Arthur and I were the most chaotic duo in motorsport. They loved our banter, our constant arguing over nothing, and the fact that we somehow managed to embarrass ourselves in every interview.

For the first forty-five minutes, everything was fine.

We talked about racing, our families, funny childhood memories. Arthur and I bickered about literally nothing for half the episode, which the hosts found hilarious.

And then—

The question happened.

A listener had sent in a segment called "Spill the Tea or Take the L," where we had to either answer a question or take a punishment.

Most of the questions were harmless—things like who's the biggest diva in F1 (Arthur answered Charles, obviously) or which teammate annoyed you the most (I said Arthur, because it was true).

But then—

The host smirked at the paper in their hand. "Oh, this one is interesting."

Arthur and I shared a look. That was never a good sign.

The host grinned. "You both have to answer this."

I sighed. "Oh God."

Arthur groaned. "Just say it."

The host cleared their throat dramatically.

"When and where did you lose your virginity?"

The room went silent.

Arthur and I just stared at each other.

The hosts were laughing, expecting us to be embarrassed, expecting us to either dodge the question or take the punishment.

But instead—

Arthur smirked. "Wanna tell them, or should I?"

I grinned. "Oh, let's really shake the internet today."

Arthur leaned into the mic. "We lost it to each other."

The entire room exploded.

The hosts gasped. The producers behind the cameras choked. Someone dropped their coffee.

I shrugged, completely unfazed. "What? We were young, we were best friends, and it just happened."

Arthur nodded. "Yep. No regrets."

The hosts were still processing. "WAIT—so, like, everyone in your family knows?"

Arthur snorted. "Oh, yeah. I told Charles and Lorenzo immediately."

The hosts screamed.

I laughed. "Charles took it so badly at first. He just kept looking between us like he was watching a horror movie in real life."

Arthur grinned. "Lorenzo just sighed like he knew something like this would happen eventually."

The internet?

The internet went into MELTDOWN.

Twitter exploded within seconds of the clip going live.

@F1Tea: "ARTHUR AND Y/N JUST CASUALLY DROPPED THE BIGGEST BOMBSHELL OF THE YEAR WTF." @PodcasterFan: "The way the hosts were NOT READY for that answer." @LandoNorris (yes, the real Lando): "oh. my. GOD." @Charles_leclerc: "I AM BLOCKING BOTH OF YOU." @FerrariMemes: "No thoughts, just Charles finding out Arthur and Y/N lost it to each other and regretting his whole life."

Arthur and I?

We just sat back and enjoyed the chaos.

The internet was on fire.

Clips of the podcast were everywhere, and the reactions? Hilarious. People were screaming, making memes, losing their minds over the fact that Arthur and I had just casually dropped the biggest bombshell of the year like it was nothing.

And while Twitter (yes, we still called it Twitter) was having a meltdown, the Leclerc family group chat?

Worse.

Leclerc Family 🏎️

🔴 Charles: WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WATCH. 🔴 Lorenzo: ...I was waiting for this day. 🔴 Pascale: Oh, mon dieu. 🔴 Arthur: Why are you acting so surprised? You've known this for years. 🔴 Charles: Yes, but the entire world didn't!!! 🔴 y/n: And? Now they do. 🤷‍♀️ 🔴 Charles: THIS ISN'T NORMAL. 🔴 Arthur: We're not normal. 🔴 Pascale: This is true. 🔴 Charles: MAMAN PLEASE.

I was crying laughing at my phone when Charles' name suddenly popped up on my screen, calling me.

"Oh, no," I muttered, showing Arthur.

Arthur grinned. "Oh, yes."

I answered.

The second I did, Charles' voice exploded through the speaker.

"ARE YOU TWO INSANE?!"

I put him on speaker, because no way was I dealing with this alone. "I mean, probably?"

Arthur snorted. "Definitely."

Charles groaned so loudly it sounded painful. "Why would you just—just SAY it like that?! Like it was some casual conversation about the weather?!"

I shrugged. "Because it was casual?"

"CASUAL?!"

Arthur laughed. "Charles, you're acting like we committed a crime."

"NO, BUT YOU DID TRAUMATIZE ME."

I grinned. "Well, that's a you problem."

Charles groaned again, and then—

A new voice entered the call.

"I just want to say, I fully support this," Lando said, way too happily.

Charles let out a sound that I could only describe as pure suffering. "Lando, I swear to God—"

Lando ignored him. "y/n, Arthur? Legends. I respect the honesty."

Arthur and I high-fived. "Thanks, Lando."

Charles screamed.

And that was when I knew—

This was going to haunt him forever.

The moment the podcast clip hit the internet, social media erupted. No one—not a single soul—was prepared for Arthur and me to just casually drop the biggest bombshell of the year like we were discussing our favorite snacks.

It was pure chaos.

🚨 Trending Topics:

🔺 #ArthurAndy/n – 3.2M Tweets 🔺 #CharlesIsSuffering – 1.8M Tweets 🔺 "WHY DID THEY SAY IT SO CASUALLY?!" – 1.5M Tweets 🔺 #LandoWasTooExcited – 800K Tweets

Twitter Reactions

@F1Drama: "I was expecting a funny childhood story, NOT THIS. I just choked on my drink." @F1Tea: "THE WAY THEY JUST SAID IT SO CASUALLY, I CAN'T BREATHE." @Charles_leclerc: "I hate it here." @LandoNorris: "This is the best thing to happen all year. I want this framed." @FerrariMemes: 📷 Attached: Screenshot of Charles staring blankly at his phone on the Ferrari pit wall "Live footage of Charles finding out his little brother and his girlfriend just broke the internet." @PodcasterFan: "The hosts were NOT prepared. The way their souls LEFT THEIR BODIES." @WTF1: 📷 Attached: Meme of a guy sitting in a burning house "Charles every time Arthur and y/n open their mouths in public." @F1Fanatic: "WHY DID THEY SAY IT LIKE IT WAS NOTHING???" @F1Edits: 📷 Attached: Clip of Charles dramatically holding his head in his hands "Charles trying to process his life decisions."

TikTok Reactions

🔹 Edit of Arthur and me laughing on the podcast, with the caption: "THEY DIDN'T EVEN HESITATE. CHAOS. ABSOLUTE CHAOS."

🔹 Compilation of Charles suffering over the years, ending with this podcast clip. "Pray for this man. He's been through too much."

🔹 Lando's reaction video: "I knew they were wild, but THIS??? ICONIC."

Arthur and Me?

We were crying laughing as we scrolled through Twitter.

Arthur turned to me, holding up his phone. "People are making memes of Charles suffering."

I grinned. "As they should."

Arthur refreshed his feed and gasped. "Oh my God, look at this one."

He showed me a tweet that had a side-by-side comparison:

📷 Left: Charles looking exhausted in an interview from 2019. 📷 Right: Charles holding his head in his hands at the Ferrari garage today.

Caption: "4 years apart. The suffering never stops."

I lost it.

Meanwhile, Charles?

Charles was nowhere to be found.

Rumor had it, he turned his phone off to escape the madness.

Which, honestly?

Fair enough.

[amirasainz]

Hey love the leclerc sister ❤️ can you do maybe that we won in monza her reaction and the family reaction please ?

Hiii guys. I hope you enjoy reading this and thank you soo much for all the support. I promise, I'll try to write the other requests as soon as possible. However, I currently find it easier to write Leclerc!sister stories. So if you have some ideas, my requests are open for them. (they are open for all ideas.

Btw, I'm so happy that Charles won. He is literally my favourite driver. However, I'm very unhappy with the way Lando is currently acting (it's just my opinion, please respect that)

Enjoy reading!!!

-XoXo

He won in Monaco, he wins in Monza

One of the interviewers, addressing Charles who was seated alongside Lewis and Nico in the media room, asked, “A question for Charles. I hope I’m not being disrespectful with this question, but it is about your little sister. Why is Monza her first race appearance and not Monaco, and why did it take so long for her to attend a race weekend?”

It was Thursday, and the only topic on everyone’s lips was the attendance of YN Caroline Pascale Florence Leclerc. When the Leclerc family entered the paddock today, the sight of the young Monegasque girl walking between her older brothers not only surprised the fans but also caught the media’s attention, as it was her first-ever Formula 1 appearance.

Charles responded to the first part of the question with a smile, "Ah, yes. I’ve been asked that a lot today. Well, it’s actually quite simple. My sister wasn’t in Monaco to see the race in person because she was at home with our grandmother, watching the race together. Since the start of my Formula 1 career, my sister and grandmother have always watched the races together at my grandmother’s home. There are a couple of reasons for this tradition: 1. My sister was too young to attend the paddock a few years ago. With all the media and fans, it would have been quite overwhelming for her. 2. My grandmother isn’t very healthy anymore, so it’s easier for her to stay at home, where it’s cooler, and she can relax in peace. So, this has become their Monaco Race tradition, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that just because people are wondering where YN is."

Before Charles could address the second part of the question, Lewis interjected, preventing the reporters from probing further. “That is a really sweet tradition. And Charles is right. Why should he ruin a family tradition, or in this case, a grandmother-granddaughter tradition, just because the fans and media think YN must attend the Grand Prix in person? From the sounds of it, all parties seem happy with how things are.”

Nico, who had been listening intently, nodded in agreement and added, “Absolutely. Family traditions are important, and it’s heartwarming to hear about the bond between your sister and grandmother. It’s not always about being physically present at the races; it’s about the shared experience and the memories they create together.”

Charles smiled thankfully at Lewis and Nico before agreeing with them. “Yeah, everyone is happy with how things are, and it doesn’t matter because, in the end, we always have a nice big family dinner with everyone. For the second part of your question about why it took so long for my sister to make an appearance, there is also a simple answer. My sister recently turned 18 years old, meaning she now counts as an adult. However, when I started in Formula 1, she was only 12 years old, meaning she was a little girl. My family and I had a long talk about this when I first started racing, and none of us felt comfortable with the thought of her getting swarmed by the media or fans at such a young age. We wanted her to be able to go to school or meet up with friends without getting photographed all the time. As some of you might have seen, I only posted pictures of my sister where her face was covered up just for privacy. But now she is 18 years old, she made the decision to attend this weekend, so I’ll respect that. However, I still ask everybody to not swarm her and leave her as much privacy as possible. She is here to watch the race and not to be the new art piece for social media."

With the strong words from the Ferrari driver, the media stopped asking questions about the youngest Leclerc, making her brother's life a bit easier this weekend.

_______________________________________________

The next few days passed quickly and YN enjoyed every minute with it. Not only was the young girl able to see her brothers all of the time, but everybody was also so nice to her. AT the Ferrari garage, the mechanics always greeted her and answered all her questions. The other team members were always quick to inform YN about the newest paddock Gossip over some watermelon and strawberry gelato. Carlos, her brothers team mate, told her all of Charles embarrassing stories, making her laugh till she cried. And the best part for her was, that her family was always there as well. And before she could even blink, it was finally race day.

The air was electric at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza, where the excitement of the Formula 1 race filled the atmosphere with palpable energy. YN, a bright-eyed girl with a heart full of enthusiasm, stood between her two older brothers, Arthur and Lorenzo. The three of them wore matching Ferrari shirts, their faces painted with the iconic red logo.

“Can you believe we’re finally here?” YN exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she took in the sprawling racetrack and the roaring engines.

“I know! It’s incredible!” Arthur replied, grinning broadly. He ruffled her hair affectionately. “You’re going to love this, YN. Just wait until the race starts!”

Lorenzo leaned in closer, his voice a mix of excitement and pride. “And just think, you’re going to see Charles out there racing! This is his second home track!”

YN's eyes widened with joy. “I can’t wait! I’ve watched him on TV, but seeing him in person is going to be amazing!”

As the cars lined up on the starting grid, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. The siblings exchanged glances, feeling the thrill of the moment. Suddenly, the crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers took their positions, and YN jumped up and down.

“Look! There he is!” YN pointed excitedly as Charles, her older brother, appeared on the screen, adjusting his helmet and climbing into his Ferrari.

“Go, Charles!” Arthur shouted, pumping his fist in the air. Lorenzo joined in, his voice booming, “You’ve got this, Charles! Show them what you’re made of!”

With the race about to begin, YN felt a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. “What if he sees us?” she asked, her voice a mixture of hope and anxiety.

“He will! He always looks for us,” Lorenzo assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “And he’ll be so happy to see you here for your first race!”

The lights turned green, and the cars shot off the line, the sound of engines roaring like a symphony of speed. YN’s eyes were glued to the track, her heart racing in rhythm with the cars as they sped by. “This is so fast! Look at them go!” she shouted, her excitement contagious.

As the laps progressed, the tension in the air grew. YN cheered for Charles, her small voice echoing through the grandstands. “Come on, Charles! You can do it!”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the race came to an end, and Charles crossed the finish line in a spectacular first place. The crowd erupted in applause, and YN jumped up, beaming. “He did it! He did it!”

Arthur and Lorenzo hugged her tightly. “He’s amazing!” Lorenzo exclaimed, his voice barely able to contain his excitement. “I’m so proud of him!”

As the drivers began to celebrate, YN spotted Charles climbing out of his car, his face lit up with joy. He scanned the crowd, and when his eyes landed on his family, his smile widened even more. “I see them!” he shouted, pointing towards them.

“Charles!” YN screamed, waving her arms wildly.

Charles jogged over to the barrier, his heart swelling with happiness as he spotted his little sister. “YN! Did you enjoy the race?” he called out, leaning over the fence to get a better look at her.

“Of course I did! I loved it! You were amazing!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Did you really? I’m so glad you’re here!” Charles leaned closer, his eyes shining with pride. “You were cheering so loud! I could hear you!”

“Really?” YN’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she giggled. “I was so nervous! But it was the best day ever!”

Arthur chimed in, “You should’ve seen her, Charles. She was a little ball of energy the whole time!”

“YN, you’re my lucky charm!” Charles laughed, ruffling her hair. “I need you at every race now!”

“I will! I promise!” she giggled back, feeling like the happiest girl in the world.

Lorenzo grinned at his brothers. “You should be proud. You raced well, Charles. You’re amazing out there!”

“Thanks, man. It means a lot,” Charles replied, his voice filled with gratitude. “But the real highlight was seeing YN here. I can’t believe it’s her first time!”

Just then, the crowd roared with applause as Charles’s fellow drivers approached, congratulating him. He turned back to YN, “Let’s take a picture! I want to remember this moment!”

“Yes! Let’s do it!” YN squealed, and the three brothers gathered around her, arms wrapped tightly.

With the sun setting behind them, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they posed for a picture. Charles held YN close, a protective arm around her shoulders, while Arthur and Lorenzo beamed with pride.

“Say Ferrari!” Charles instructed, and they all shouted in unison, “Ferrari!”

As they snapped the picture, YN felt a warmth in her heart, knowing that this day would be etched in her memory forever. “I can’t wait for the next race!” she declared, looking up at her brothers.

“Neither can we,” Arthur said, pulling her in for another hug. “We’ll make sure you’re at every race!”

“Absolutely,” Lorenzo added, a grin plastered on his face. “You’re part of the team now, YN!”

Charles smiled down at his little sister, feeling grateful for the love and support of his family. “I’m so lucky to have you all here. This was the best race ever.”

As the excitement of the race began to settle, YN, Arthur, and Lorenzo found a cozy spot near the track where they could watch the celebration unfold. The atmosphere was alive with the sounds of laughter, cheers, and the roar of the fans.

“Look at them!” YN pointed to Charles, who was now surrounded by teammates and fans. He was smiling from ear to ear, clearly reveling in the joy of the moment. “He looks so happy!”

“He is happy,” Arthur replied, leaning back against the railing. “It’s not just about the race; it’s about sharing it with the people you love.”

“Yeah, and he knows we’re here cheering him on,” Lorenzo added, a proud grin on his face. “He’s always been a family guy.”

YN beamed, her heart swelling with pride. “I can’t believe I got to see him race in person. It was so cool!“

As the celebrations continued, YN’s attention was suddenly caught by a group of fans waving banners and holding up signs. “Look over there! They have a sign for Charles!” she exclaimed, pointing excitedly.

“Let’s go check it out!” Arthur suggested, and they made their way through the crowd, YN leading the charge.

When they reached the group, they encountered a colorful banner that read, “Charles Leclerc, our champion!” YN’s eyes sparkled with admiration.

“Can I hold it?” she asked, her voice filled with eagerness.

“Of course! Here you go!” one of the fans replied, handing the banner to her. YN beamed with joy as she held it high above her head.

“Charles! Over here!” she shouted, waving the banner enthusiastically.

Charles turned, catching sight of his little sister holding the sign, and his heart swelled with affection. “YN! That’s amazing!” he called back, flashing her a thumbs-up.

“Look, he sees us!” Lorenzo said, his excitement contagious.

“Let’s take another picture!” Arthur suggested, pulling out his phone.

As they posed with the banner, YN felt a surge of happiness. This was a moment she would cherish forever. After snapping a few pictures, they decided to head back to the main area where the podium ceremony was about to take place.

“YN, you’re going to love this part!” Lorenzo said, guiding her through the crowd. “This is where the drivers get their trophies.”

As they settled into a spot with a great view of the podium, YN couldn’t contain her excitement. “I can’t wait to see Charles get his trophy!”

When the drivers were finally called up to the podium, the crowd erupted into cheers. Charles stood proudly on the first-place step, his trophy gleaming in the sunlight. YN clapped and cheered along with her older brothers.

Charles looked down at his family, and his smile only grew wider. He raised the trophy high above his head, and the crowd roared in response.

After the ceremony, Charles made his way through the crowd toward his family, still clutching the trophy. “You guys are the best! Thank you for being here!” he exclaimed, enveloping YN in a warm embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, Charles!” YN squeaked, her face lighting up with adoration. “You were so fast!”

“Thanks, little sis! It means the world to me that you came to support me,” he replied, tousling her hair again. “I hope you enjoyed it.”

“I loved it!” she said, her eyes glistening. “Can we come to every race now?”

“Absolutely! We’ll make it a tradition,” Charles promised, exchanging a knowing glance with Arthur and Lorenzo, who nodded in agreement.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the siblings gathered for one last photograph together. Charles held the trophy aloft, with YN standing proudly beside him, a huge grin plastered on her face.

[whimsiwitchy]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 (part three)

Pedro Pascal x singer!reader

series masterlist & series playlist

summary: you're a hot singer that has hot older men falling at her feet. pedro becomes one of them. (literally my cyg hughxreader fic but for pedro)

warnings: age gap (23/49), use of y/n, swearing, sexual themes, afab reader, she/her pronouns, verbal fighting, pedro is a smoker, cheating, Hugh Jackman is your ex (oops), he also pops up a few times and is mentioned, grammar is fake to me srry <3

hugh is in this chapter

warnings may change as the story progresses. all descriptions of real people in this story are fake! I don't know these people and this all for funsies. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: okay y'all this is kinda buns ngl LMAOO ummm. I rewrote the entire part with Hugh and on like 20 different times and it still didn't turn out how I wanted buttt I was tired of pushing back the release date so here you go. there's a lot of dialogue and I struggle with details between dialogue so sorry in advance. anyways..I hope y'all enjoy this but I understand if you don't AHAHA <333

oh also the end isn't really proofread...oops

part three: cigarettes and coffee

The last few days in London were a drag. Your time was spent in meetings, interviews, and Stacy dragging you to every tourist attraction in town. It was all rather mundane- every meeting full of presentations that could have been an email and every interviewer asked the same questions you’ve already answered a million times. Even being a tourist wasn’t fun anymore, too many people crowing the popular areas. You were being grumpy but you were tired and unbelievably home sick. Being a natural homebody, it was hard to travel for long periods of time for work. You were byong grateful for the life you’re living but it didn’t align with your hermit personality. Usually after a big trip, such as this one, you got to go home and rot in bed for a few weeks before venturing out again, but your career had other plans this time around. Instead of going back to Los Angeles, you’d be heading straight to New York. 

The call with the offer came the night before your flight back home. After muting the phone to jump and scream with Stacy, you accepted the invitation to perform on Saturday Night Live the fiftieth anniversary special. 

Everything was very last minute considering you were filling in for someone who dropped out earlier in the day. Sleep wasn’t a priority as Stacy canceled the flight to L.A and searched for the next flight to New York. You, on the other hand, were thrown into a zoom meeting with your management team as everyone tried to figure out how to throw everything together by tomorrow morning. Your lawyer breezed through the contract, confirming that it was okay to sign and once it was, you were being hounded with a million and one questions. The main issue was figuring out what song you were going to sing. 

“I’m just not sure I can handle it vocally right now. With my next performance being a few weeks away, I haven't really taken care of my voice since being on live lounge.” You explained. Your team was set on having you sing ‘Late Nights and Heartbreak’ after how well it did after your performance of it was uploaded just yesterday. 

“Y/n, we understand what you’re saying but this is your first SNL performance and it’s not just a normal SNL appearance. This will be the most viewed SNL episode ever. You need to ‘wow’ the audience with something new since you’re releasing new music soon. We need to hook them, they need to want to hear more, especially since there was such a big shift in your sound since your debut album. If you happen to have any vocal issues, we’ll blame it on emotion.” Carol says. She’s usually who you speak to when talking to your team but you were never really fond of her. She cared a lot more about her job than she did you. You couldn’t blame her for that but it was obvious in moments like this. “Everyone already knows about your breakup so we can always send you on a talk show, radio show, hell even a podcast if we have to. You can give all the details about your time with Hugh and why the song is hard to sing for you…blah blah blah… everyone forgets you did bad. Problem solved, you’re singing the song. Now we need to figure out how we’re getting the band to New York on such short notic-...” 

You blanked out for the rest of the meeting, everything being discussed wasn’t anything that involved you. The camera was turned off, mic muted as you fought against drifting to sleep. You were on the brink of losing the battle when your name being said caught your attention. 

“Oh and before I forget. Y/n they want you to be in a sketch as well.” You immediately unmute yourself to protest. 

“Absolutely not. I’m a singer, not an actress.” Carol rolls her eyes, not trying to hide her annoyance anymore. Everyone was tired and over it. 

“You don’t really have a say. You’re doing it.”

What a bitch. 

—

After almost eight hours on a plane, you were a lot more cheerful to be in New York than you had been last night. The numbing in your butt from sitting so long was finally starting to go away as you stepped out of the car and headed inside of the studio. The ride over was a quiet one. Stacy, your usual companion for work things, was at the hotel. You begged her to stay back and get some rest, assuring her that you’d be okay without her today. You were sure she wouldn’t have to do much ‘assisting’ today given the schedule. 

“Hi. Y/n Y/l/n for SNL50 rehearsal.” You recite politely to the receptionist. She smiles and hands you a guest pass with your name in all caps. She gives a short description of how to navigate the confusing hallways before you make your way towards the room number you were given. Once you open the door, you beeline towards an empty corner in the back, avoiding all of the people that were already in the room, talking quietly to each other. 

“Y/n! Oh my god! I’m so happy you’re here!” Sabrina comes running over towards you, engulfing you into a big hug. You wrap your arms around her just as tight. 

“Oh my god! Sab, hi! How have you been? It’s been like for fucking ever.” You say as you both release each other. 

“I’ve been so good. Just touring, being a popstar and everything. How have you been? I heard the new song, dude it’s so fucking good. You killed that shit.” She’s beaming up at you with a big smile on her face. Her contagious energy sunk into you, feeling immediately more awake. It was also nice knowing you actually knew somebody here and wouldn’t be in a room of strangers. 

“Thank you so much! I was honestly kinda scared to put that song out but I'm glad everyone is liking it so far.”  You smile back at her. “But I’ve been really good. I’m dead tired though. I like just got back from London this mor-” Your eyes wander over to the door as someone else walks in. “-There’s no fucking way.” The smile Sabrina was sporting drops in confusion. “Why is he here?” She looks to who you’re talking about. “Not that it’s a bad thing but like…why is he here?” Your once chipper voice, now lower and sharp. 

“Who? Pedro?” She points with her thumb and you nod. “He’s in the sketch with us. Did you not know? Is it a problem that he’s here?” She asks with a concerned filled voice. 

“No. Oh my god no. I just…uh…I just didn’t know he was gonna be here. Everything happened so fast and it slipped my mind to even look at the lineup…” You’re trying to be chill but you’ve become super aware of your old sweatpants and just how different your attire is from when he saw you in the restaurant. You keep glancing over at him, hoping he doesn’t see you right away. He’s talking to a group of the male cast members, his laugh echoing off of the walls of the empty room. 

“Dude, is there something I’m missing or…?” She drags on the ‘or’ while glancing between you and Pedro. You sigh and fill her in on everything that’s happened recently. Her bright smile returns to her face as she listens. You tell her about running into him twice in London, along with the whole dress incident. 

“Stacy thinks he likes me but I don't know. I feel like he’s just being nice. I mean, I barely know the guy, ya know?” You finish and she squeals loudly. It catches the attention of the group of guys and you make eye contact with Pedro. You look up for a moment and try to look away but his eyes catch yours. You know you look like a deer caught in headlights but he politely smiles and waves anyways. You do the same. 

“Bitch, he so likes you.” Sabrina says as she observes the small interaction. “You like him back, huh?” You stay quiet for a moment. 

“I’d like to get to know him better but uh…yea he’s pretty hot.” Your voice is quiet in an attempt to keep the conversation private. A nervous tone takes over as you admit your thoughts out loud. 

“Hell yea he is! This is perfect. I will be playing cupid today. You can thank me later.” She gives your arm a quick squeeze. “Ohhhh Pedroooo!” She turns and yells towards the group of boys. 

“Sab, what the fuck are you doing?” You ask in a hushed voice. She turns her head back to you for a moment and widens her eyes, a warning to act natural. He turns his head in your direction and excuses himself from the guys. You were too fucking tired for this. 

“Good morning ladies.” He says as he walks up to the two of you. 

“Hi. I’m Sabrina. It’s nice to meet you, big fan of your work.” She says and offers a hand out towards Pedro. He takes it and introduces himself. “I would introduce my friend here but she let me know the two of you are already acquainted.” He smiles down at you. 

“Indeed we are. Long time no see stranger.” He chuckles a bit at his own joke. “How long has it been? Like what…four days?” He thinks before asking. 

“Yea something like that…Hi Pedro.” You say shyly. You felt silly for feeling awkward around him but it was hard not to be when you’ve had two people tell you that they think he likes you. 

“Oh…You need me over there?” Sabrina suddenly yells towards the other side of the room. “Oh okay.” She turns to look at you and Pedro. “Sorry guys, duty calls…” She walks away and as she does, she turns to give you two thumbs up and a wink behind Pedro’s back. You watched her walk away and tried your best not to roll your eyes at how obvious she was being. 

“So…How was the rest of your time in London?” Pedro asks, ending the brief silence. 

“It was good. It was my first time in the city so I spent all my off time exploring with Stacy. We actually just got back this morning.” You explain and he nods with a smile. 

“You’re all anyone can talk about right now, picking up this work week super last minute. Pretty badass if I do say so myself. The hero of SNL50.” He’s smiling while lazily throwing his arms up in a ‘hurray’ celebration. 

“I wouldn’t call myself a hero. This is definitely more beneficial for me than it is for SNL.” You shrug slightly and there’s a slight pause. More people enter the room, louder conversations pop up in the small groups that have slowly formed. “Um..How was London for you?” You ask, genuinely curious about what he was up to. 

“It was really good. Filming mostly for Fantastic Four and filling in any gaps with interviews. You know how it is.” He shrugs, smiling still sitting softly on his lips. 

“Ugh. I don’t ever want to hear the word ‘interview’ again.” You groan and let your head hang back slightly. “I think I did more interviews in London than I’ve done in my entire music career.” 

“Tell me about it!” Pedro agrees, his eyes widening. “I swear the moment you step into another country, you’re doing interviews left and right. Everyone wants to get their hands on you before you go back to America.” 

“Ya’ know…suddenly doing a world tour for my next album doesn’t sound that exciting.” Your hand comes up to rub your chin in ‘thought’. It makes Pedro laugh and the sound makes your stomach flutter. 

“Can we have everyone group up so we can start? Please and thank you!” Someone you don’t recognize shouts over the talking in the room. Pedro looks down to you before speaking. 

“We’ll talk after yea?” Pedro asks. 

“Yea, sounds good.” You nod with an awkward thumbs up. He walks back over to the guys and you want to smack your head against the wall for the butterflies you felt squirming around in your stomach. Just talking to him for a few minutes had ruined you. You had no idea how you were going to get through the rest of the week. 

“How’d it go?” Sabrina whispers to you as someone begins introducing the skit to the room. 

“I’m actually going to kill you.” You whisper-yell towards her, earning a small laugh. “Oh, real smooth by the way. I’m sure he totally heard the person that so desperately needed you five feet away.” You deadpan at her and she waves you off, opting to listen to the person speaking. 

—

It was starting to get hot in the small room. The sketch included more people than you expected but the energy in the room was electrifying. You couldn’t stop laughing, constantly covering your mouth and trying you hardest not to snort. There was a long table taking up most of the back wall and the rest of the room was used as the ‘dance floor’. You quickly learned that the sketch was a spinoff of the popular ‘Domingo’ skit. You and Sabrina were playing twin sisters, the joke being that the two of you don’t look alike at all. It was added when the cast heard you were coming in as a replacement and your part was mostly for fun while Sabrina was there because the skit used her song ‘Espresso’. Even if it didn’t make sense for you to be included, you were having the time of your life. Soft giggles were coming from where Sabrina and yourself were standing. You were trying to go over the lines as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the cast that was already learning the blocking and choreography for their parts. As each of you took turns softly singing off key, it became harder to contain. 

“You guys sound really great over there. You two should become professional singers or something.” Pedro whispers jokingly. He’s been standing close by, also looking at his lines on the papers that were handed out earlier. Sabrina looked at you and you both busted out laughing, earning a few curious looks from the rest of the room. 

After that small outburst, you both tried harder at staying quiet. Luckily, you only had to try for a few more minutes before the both of you were called up to join. The process of everything reminded you a lot of touring, making it easy to catch on quickly. You only had to run your section a few times before Pedro was being called up to join. You briefly read over his part in the script but stopped yourself when you saw ‘girls start dancing on Ronaldo’ written. 

“Okay, so Pedro, you’re gonna enter when Kelsey asks Matt who Ronaldo is. We’re gonna have you stand in between the girls and they’re gonna dance on you as you sing your part. Sound good?” The crew member asks and Pedro nods. You and Sabrina both take a step to the side to make room for him and he awkwardly makes his way there. They give him a few more directions before they have you all run that section together. 

“That was great. We just need more energy from you all when it comes to the dancing portion.” The choreographer says while writing something down in a notebook. 

“We might have to really grind on you Pedro. I’m sure you won’t mind?” Sabrina asks, side eyeing you with a smirk.

“Do whatever you girls need to do.” He says, giving you a smile that causes the outer corner of his eyes to crinkle. 

—

There’s only one more rehearsal and it happens Saturday morning when the entire cast runs through the full show before the actual airing. Everything went smooth, each skit a little less enthusiastic as they should be, each person saving their energy for tonight. You sang a very rough version of ‘Late Nights and Heartbreak’, to sound check with the band before heading back to the small dressing room where Stacy was waiting for you.

“So, how does it feel getting to grind on Pedro one last time tonight?” She asks, mouth full of food. 

“I’m not really grinding on him, more like his hip, but I’m very sad that my ass will never touch his body again.” You pout and wipe a fake tear from your eye. 

“Never say never.” Stacy says, tilting her head in a suggestive manner. 

“Okay Justin Bieber.” You take a bite out of your sandwich. 

“I think he was tryna cop a look earlier when y’all were rehearsing.” She wiggles her eyebrows causing you to blush. 

“He was not! You gotta stop feeding into my delusion. I get nervous around him when I think about it too much.” You sigh. You luckily didn’t see Pedro during the rest of the week. It’s not like you didn’t want to see him because you definitely did but after rehearsals on Monday, you spiraled. It’s like your phone heard you talking about him and decided to place an edit of him on your tiktok for you page. After watching that one edit, more flooded in…and if you created a collection of them…nobody has to know. 

“Nervous about what?” Pedro’s voice asks behind you and you jump up, straightening your previous shrimp-like posture. 

“Umm…nothing.” You panic as Stacy stifles a laugh. 

“Sorry if I’m intruding. We never got to talk again after rehearsals the other day and the door was open…” He trails off, leaning his shoulder into the door. Your neck was hurting from staring back at him but you were stunned. His outfit was simple, cozy. A pair of black lounge shorts that sat just above his knees, with a worn graphic tee that fit him loosely. His socks sat a few inches above his ankle where his feet sported an old pair of tennis shoes. You could see the definition in his right thigh, his shorts pulling up slightly from the way his leg was bent to support his leaning body. He looked really, really fucking good. 

“You actually have perfect timing! I need to handle some business stuff for this diva.” Stacy jokes as she points to you. It earns a small chuckle from Pedto. “Keep her company while I’m gone?” Stacy asks and it brings you back to reality. 

“Will do.” Pedro salutes, standing up straight. Stacy gets up, sandwich in hand as she walks past Pedro and through the door. You turn your head forward, relieving the tension in your neck as Pedro sits in the seat that was previously occupied by Stacy. You don’t speak first, you can’t. The guilt of the endless edits you watched late at night were eating away at you as the man you’ve been thirsting over sat right in front of you. You were so fucked. 

“I didn’t get to tell you but you’ve been doing great in the sketch by the way. You should consider acting.” You look at his face fully for the first time, his glasses perched on top of his nose. 

“You’re being too nice. The only thing getting me through it is having Sabrina there, I’d be a terrible actress.” You emphasize the ‘terrible’ as you pick at the bread of your sub. 

“Let’s agree to disagree.” He says, leaning back into the chair more. His movement makes you aware of just how close you are. “You really are doing great though. I might have sat through your sound check earlier…You sound just as good as you did back in London.” He continues on and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You’re very talented.” You suck at taking compliments and don’t know what else to say other than that. 

“You’ve got to stop complimenting me. My head is already too big for my own good.” You joke. 

“Hard not to compliment genuine talent.” He offers, pushing his glasses back up from where they fell just a little too far down. 

“Okay well anyways…I suck at taking compliments so we’re moving on.” You blurt out. He laughs with a big smile. You scrunch your face to prevent your own smile from slipping out. “Oh..I overheard a few people earlier saying something about a mullet?” You ask, moving the embarrassment from yourself to him. 

“Yea..Had a fitting for everything the other day. I’m not gonna lie, I’m a pretty confident man…but I’m not sure if the mullet is for me.” One of his hands reaches up to tug at the loose curl that hangs perfectly from his hair. 

“I’m sure you look great. Kinda hard for a haircut to mess up a pretty face.” You shrug while finally taking another bite of your sandwich. 

“You think I’m pretty?” He asks with a smirk. You stop chewing for a moment as you realize what you just said. Your mouth always works faster than your brain in the worst moments. You swallow before answering. 

“I mean…you’re not ugly. Can’t a girl appreciate a handsome guy without being questioned about it?” You try your best to be nonchalant and you’re hoping it came off that way. You think it does because he just hums in response, a pause before he speaks again. 

“Are you going to the after party tonight?” The smirk is gone and replaced with that soft smile that seems to always be sitting on his face. 

“Oh. I haven’t really thought about it. Parties aren’t really my thing to be honest.” You answer. 

“Well I for one, definitely would like to see you there and I’m sure everyone else would too.” His voice is sincere. 

“Hm..I guess since the Pedro Pascal wants me there, I have to show up.” 

“So you’ll be there?” He asks, his voice hopeful. 

“I’ll think about it, pretty boy.” He smiles. 

–

The show was moving quicker than you thought it would. You already performed your song and to your luck, you wouldn’t have to air out your dating struggles to the world on some dumb ass podcast. The energy in the room was weird. Everyone was excited to be celebrating the fifty years of history but there was still a somber feeling in the air as the room thought back onto their most treasured memories. You used that feeling to sing rather than the breakup, creating the emotion you needed without using your personal fervor. Once you stepped off stage, you rushed back into your dressing room to get changed for the espresso skit. The costume was simple, a satin bridesmaid style dress with a pair of tan heels with your hair being left down. After you were all set for the sketch, you made your way over to Sabrina’s dressing room, announcing yourself with a soft knock. 

“You ready to grind your ass on Pedro one last time?” Sabrina asks when she sees you, her usual bright smile on her face. There’s a crew member from the hair department adding a few more bobby pins to her hair. 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You sigh, slumping on the door frame. 

“If I were you, I’d take advantage of this moment…really get in there. Show him what he’s missing.” She does a few thrust while trying not to move her head too much. 

“I basically called him hot earlier.” You admit and Sabrina snaps her head in your direction in shock. 

“Bitch what!?!?” She yells. The hair stylist gasps at the sudden movement and noise before going back to fix the hair that fell. Sabrina apologizes and looks at you through the mirror. “Tell me everything.” 

You tell her everything. How Pedro came to your dressing room because he didn’t catch you after rehearsals like he said he would. How he looked better than a man ever has before. How he kept complimenting you and how you said that the stupid mullet couldn’t be that bad because of his stupid, handsome face. How he said he wanted you at the after party. How you called him pretty a second time before Stacy came back and he left, but not before wishing you luck for tonight and squeezing your shoulder. 

“Y/n, I need you to listen to me very closely.” She’s turned towards you now, the hair stylist having left half way through your rambling. “That man likes you and you need to grind on him tonight.” You had been paying attention to her, taking her seriously until she said the last part. 

“Sab, I’m not grinding on him. Oh my fucking god…that’s like borderline sexual assault.” You throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“It’s not! Pedro literally said to do whatever we needed to do and you need to grind on him.” She laughs and you scoff. “I’m joking, I’m joking.” She reveals. “...Partially joking.” You punch her lightly in the arm. 

“So you are going to the party right?” She asks with her eyebrows raised. 

“I mean, I feel like I have to. When a hot guy tells you he wants you somewhere, you go.” You say. “But, if he doesn’t talk to me at all, you and Stacy are going to have to carry me out of there because I will be too embarrassed to move.” 

“Oh he will talk to you. I’ll make sure it happens.” She gives an evil laugh while tapping her fingers together in a way that only a cartoon villain would. 

Over the speaker system, they announce places for the ‘vowel renewal’ sketch and the two of you make your way towards the stage that was setup for the performance. On the short walk, Pedro ends up joining the small posse and Sabrina immediately through you into yet another uncomfortable situation. 

“Oh my god! I’m digging the little chin hair you’ve got going on.” She says, pointing out the small patch of hair they added to his Ronaldo costume. “Doesn’t he look so hot Y/n?” You slowly turn your head towards her before agreeing. “Very hot.” You say while trying your best to walk straight while giving Sabrina a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ look. Thankfully Pedro laughs it off and the conversation ends there, the rest of the walk filled with the light tapping of heels on the tile. 

The sketch is over in the blink of an eye, one moment you’re out there and the next you’re right back in the dressing room. You didn’t take Sabrina’s terrible advice of grinding on Pedro to show him ‘what he was missing’, rather sticking to exactly what you did in rehearsal. So when your butt happened to move down the fly of Pedro’s pants instead of his thigh, it’s not your fault. 

—

You spent the rest of the show in the audience with Stacy until the very end when everyone that was a part of the show went back on stage. You laughed your ass off at seeing Pedro in his mullet wig and shut right up when you made eye contact with him. The tension you felt while near him had already been at an all time high but now that you’ve felt his dick slide across your ass cheek, you had no fucking idea how you were supposed to be normal around him. Was he gonna mention it? Did he even notice it? Did it affect him the same way it affected you? Your mind was spiraling. 

You were standing with Sabrina in the large crowd of people and you could hear Pedro’s voice lingering somewhere close by. You introduced yourself to a few people you hadn’t met before and as the room started to die down, you made your way back to the dressing room where Stacy was waiting for you. She called a car, deciding earlier in the day to go back to the hotel to change for the after party. You chose to wear a dress that allowed you to move more freely, shorter than the one you wore while sitting in the audience, with a pair of heels that you knew you’d regret wearing in the morning. You switched out your jewelry and purse to match the outfit better before you were leaving the hotel just as quickly as you had arrived. 

The afterparty was being held in some old, dingy dive bar that you were over dressed for. It reeked of alcohol and sweat, the maximum occupancy had definitely been broken for the sake of the Saturday Night Live after party. It was an open bar, someone with more money than they could ever need in a lifetime, had already offered to pay the tab at the end of the night. There was music blasting way too loudly for the normal bar to be playing and you’re certain there were some speakers hidden somewhere that were added just for tonight. You were immediately overstimulated and wishing you were in bed instead. You ordered the fruitiest drink the bar offered and made your way to somewhere less crowded, Stacy following your lead. Ugh, the things you do for men. 

“You must really like him for you to still be here right now.” Stacy points out, eyes roaming the growing crowd. 

“He better like me back because he’s literally the only reason I didn’t turn right back around when I came through that door.” You sigh, wishing the drink would be strong enough to calm you down. 

It wasn’t, but Sabrina pulled Stacy and yourself out of the corner and into the middle of the dance floor almost an hour ago. The three of you had been dancing and singing at the top of your lungs, getting everyone around you to join in. Everyone cheered when the intro to the ‘Cupid Shuffle’ came on, you’d been waiting for it to play since you requested it almost twenty minutes ago. That also happens to be the amount of time it’s been since you learned that there was a DJ taking song requests. The song comes and goes with many other middle school dance songs following it. Your song requests end with ‘Wobble’ by V.I.C and the second it ends, you’re yelling over the music, letting Stacy and Sabrian know that you needed a breather. You push your way through the crowd as politely as possible, trying to avoid the sweaty bodies from hitting your own as you make your way to the bar. 

“Can I get a glass of water please?” You ask the bartender as you lean across the counter. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you babygirl. Heard you did great tonight.” The voice sends you into a state of shock..or maybe it’s the feeling can be better described as panic? You weren’t sure what feelings were brewing in your mind but it caused you to call out to the bartender again. 

“Actually, give me whatever you think will make me black out the fastest..please.” You plead toward the bartender as a warm, large hand reaches for the small of your back. “Oh go ahead and double that while you’re at it!” You yell at the poor bartender that’s turned away from you, already in the middle of mixing your poison. 

“You can’t ignore me all night sweetheart.” That thick, Australian accent creeped into your ears again, his hand still sitting firmly on your back, falling a little too close to something that no longer belonged to him. 

“Hugh, hi. What are you doing here?” You ask, shimming away from the contact, his hand falling down. What you really wanted to ask was “why the actual fuck are you here right now?” but you were trying to be nice. 

“Ryan invited me. I wanted to be at the actual show but got caught up with some stuff.” He flicks his hand in the air a bit. “Nice song by the way. It’s good to hear that you’re actually taking accountability for what happened between us instead of blaming me for everything.” He nods, lips in a tight smile. 

“Hugh, don’t fucking start.” You say, patience and the ability to hold back any annoyance had slipped away. The bartender slides over a glass and you take a large gulp with immediate regret. The strong taste of liquor makes your tongue curl back in disgust. 

“What? Can the truth only come from your mouth and not mine?” He asked. You look up at him, his piercing blue eyes already staring down at you. The corners of his eyes, red. The same red that would take residency there when he wasn’t getting enough sleep. A small fact that you picked up in the time you spend with him, a fact you could care less about now. 

“Well, it was nice seeing you. Bye Hugh.” You slam the rest of your drink, sitting the glass down a little harder than you probably should have, and you start to walk away. You don’t make it far before a hand is grabbing your wrist, tugging you. “What the fuck do you want.” You snap, turning back towards Hugh. 

It’s been months since you’ve seen Hugh, the last time being when the two of you broke it off. It was ugly, angry. You could feel all of those feelings rising within you and this was not the place you wanted this to go down, not in front of your friends and colleagues. 

“I just wanna talk to you, clear the air.” Hugh says, voice softer and the antagonizing look gone. 

“Don’t give me that look Hugh.” You sigh. “Do you actually wanna talk or are you just gonna berate me the entire time?” He looks down. 

“I wanna talk, I miss you.” The last part is almost a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear over the party that continued to rawr through the interaction. You grunt, telling him to follow you. With a quick scan over the area, you find a bright red ‘EXIT’ sign and make your way towards it. It leads you down a longer hallway, a door at the end with another glowing sign above it. You stop a few feet from the door, back against the wall. 

“Are you gonna talk or are we just gonna stand here all night?” You ask Hugh after a beat of silence, patience running thin. He nods, “Right..” He says, mostly to himself. 

“I’m sorry for the way things ended.” He looks at you and you almost laugh. 

“Is that really all you have to say?” You ask, humor in your voice. He shakes his head. 

“No…I, uh…I’m sorry for cheating on you and letting things between us go on for as long as I did. I really do like you but I was in such a weird headspace with the divorce and all I just-” 

This time you do laugh. 

“Bull fucking shit. You don’t get to use your divorce as an excuse Hugh. Not when you cheated on your fucking wife with the same girl you cheated on me with.” You pause. “Matter of fact, why the fuck are you here and not with her? Did she already leave you again?” You laugh, it’s cruel. You’re being childish and petty but you don’t care. The look he gives you tells you everything you need to know. 

“She did leave you!” You shout in between giggles. “Oh my fucking god Hugh. You’re so fucking pathetic. She left you so you tried to come crawling back to me..is that what’s happening right now?” You ask in utter disbelief. 

“You aren’t exactly innocent in all of this.” He mumbles. 

“I’m gonna say this nice and slow so you get it through that meathead brain of yours.” You look him in the eyes. “My mistakes were made weeks into our relationship and they never got physical. Yes I flirted with people but that was it. You cheated on me for two months of our relationship Hugh and let her harass me for weeks before you broke up with me.” You breathe for a moment, sadness creeping in. “You told me you loved me for fucks sake. You made me think that I could love you too.” You admit. 

“But baby, I do love you, so so much darling.” He says, reaching out for you but you pull away before he can touch you. 

“You don’t love me and you never have. All you did was use me and I just let you.” Your voice crumbles and your eyes betray you, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “You never once called me when I was away on tour to see how I was doing. The only time you texted me was when you were horny and the only time you actually showed up was when you wanted to fuck.” Your voice gets stronger with each word you say, the anger rising as you remember what he did. “So don’t sit here and tell me you love me when the truth is that you don’t know how to be alone. It’s not something you should be ashamed of considering you were married longer than I’ve been alive but it’s your fault you're alone Hugh. You’re facing the consequences of your shitty actions and I don’t wanna be a part of that anymore.” 

Hugh stays quiet, looking at the floor. You take a moment, giving him the chance to speak but he never does. 

“Goodbye Hugh.” 

—

You walk out the door under the exit sign, pushing the metal bar and stepping into the cold air of February. The tears on your face began to dry with the small breeze that was a constant, causing chill bumps to form on your arms and legs. You regretted not listening to Stacy after she begged you to bring a coat. You wouldn’t have needed one if not for Hugh’s intrusion on the night but you weren’t ready to go back in there. You lean your back against the brick wall of the bar when the door opens again. A figure walks out, one that you can’t make out, the blur in your eyes from your tears isn’t helping your poor eyesight. They either don’t see you or they ignore you, lighting up a cigarette and leaning their own back against the wall. 

Most people hate the smell of cigarettes but it calms you down, reminding you of home. Memories of late Friday nights spent with your family, crowding around a bonfire that was made up of wooden pallets your dad would pick up from the farmer supply store a few miles out. Each of your male relatives sitting in a cheap plastic lawn chair with a beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. Country music blaring through the radio because any other music was just some ‘mumbo jumbo’ that didn’t make sense. It brings a smile to your face thinking about how the last time you sat around that burn pile, fire blazing, that ‘mumbo jumbo’ was your song playing on the radio, proud stares from your family. 

The recollection slips away by the sound of the stranger scuffing out the cigarette on the concrete, their shoe making a less than pleasant noise as it scrapes the rough surface of the ground. Just as they head towards the door, the light from the streetlamp catches their face. 

“Pedro?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a question but it did. He turns, a face of confusion turning into a face of shock. 

“Y/n..” It comes out almost as a gasp. “Hey. What are you doing out here?” His hand drops from its previous spot on the door handle and walks over to you. 

“Eh..long story.” You shrug. “I didn’t know you smoked.” You say, pointing at the cigarette bud that had been discarded on the ground. He turns to look at the bud before turning back towards you, a look of embarrassment on his face. 

“Bad habit I picked up.” It’s his turn to shrug. “But uh..I’ve been looking for you. I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.” 

“Sorry, I was on the dance floor then I…well now I’m here.” You say and he laughs. 

“I thought I saw you out there. I wasn’t so sure since you said parties aren’t your thing.” He teases. 

“I’m surprised you weren’t out there yourself. I’ve gotten to see your moves this week, you’re a pretty good dancer.” You tease back but his cheeks get red. 

“About that…I’m so sorry for what happened on stage tonight. I just kinda turned and then your…butt was on me and I…I’m sorry.” He says. 

You want to tell him that he doesn’t need to be sorry and that he secretly fulfilled all of your perverted thoughts but you don’t. 

“Dude, it’s fine. I think we all got a little carried away out there.” You both laugh.

“We should head back in, you look like your one goosebump away from freezing.” He says, pointing at your arms. You instinctively rub your hands over your arms to warm them up, the cold much more noticeable now. 

“I think I’m done for the night. I’m beat.” You say, leaving out that it’s an emotional drain and not a physical one. “You should head back in though, go enjoy the night.” You smile. 

“I’m a bit tired too if I’m being honest.” He smiles sheepishly. “I was gonna tough it out for you.” 

“For me?” You ask. 

“Yea. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I kinda like being around you.” 

“I kinda like being around you too.” You admit, those butterflies erupting once again. “I was thinking about finding some place to get a coffee if you wanted to join?” He lets out a deep belly laugh and you’re convinced it’s the most attractive laugh you’ve ever heard in your life. 

“You want to get coffee at..” He checks his watch. “..two in the morning?” He asks. 

“Yep.” You say, popping the ‘p’. “Coffee makes me sleepy.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good thing sweetheart.” He frowns. The endearment sounds a lot better coming from his lips than it does coming from Hugh’s. 

“You don’t have to come. I can go on my coffee excursion alone.” You say, slowly beginning to walk off. Pedro follows. 

—

“Ugh my feet hurt and I’m cold.” You complain…again. 

The two of you had been walking for the past thirty minutes trying to find a coffee shop you searched on google maps but it literally wasn’t where it says it is. You’ve looped the block over and over again but still, no coffee shop. 

“Take my jacket.” Pedro offers for the millionth time. 

“No.” You say in response for the millionth time. 

“Why not? You’re being very stubborn.” He sighs. 

You can’t tell him that if you take his jacket he won’t ever get it back and that you physically can’t handle the smell of him because of personal reasons..so you just say “Because.” and shrug. 

“My hotel is right around the block, we can go there where it’s warm. Plus there’s a keurig so you can have coffee.” He offers, pointing in the opposite direction. You gasp playfully. 

“Pedro Pascal, at least take a girl out to dinner first before taking her up to your hotel room.” You joke, swatting at his arm. He rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“Do you want coffee or not?” He asks. 

“Yes please.” 

Then you two are off in the exact direction you’d come from and had walked multiple times before. When you reach the hotel entrance, Pedro opens the door for you. 

“Dude, we’ve passed this place so many times and you just now came up with this idea?” You ask, body accepting the warmth of the lobby with a slight sting from the sudden change in temperature. Pedro leads you to the elevator, letting you enter first when the doors open. 

“I thought about it on our third lap around but didn’t wanna freak you out.” He says honestly with a shrug. He clicks button fifteen, which happens to be the top floor,  and the elevator starts moving. 

“What time is it?” You ask, too lazy to grab your phone out of the small purse that's been glued to your shoulder all night. 

“About a quarter to three.” He says, a yawn escaping his mouth. The elevator opens and you both walk down the right of the hallway, only two doors being on the floor. He’s opening the door as another yawn creeps out. 

“Hey, I can call my car if you’re too tired. I won’t be offended I promise.” You smile, entering the hotel room, or hotel suite rather. The room looks like a small apartment rather than a hotel room. It’s bigger than the suite you have with Stacy, despite it being two rooms instead of what you can assume is the one. 

“I want you here.” He assures. “I’m getting too old to be up this late.” He laughs but you frown. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna grab a sweater for you and I’m not taking no for an answer.” He’s walking down the small hallway before you can protest. You sigh and plop down on the couch, finally fishing your phone out of your purse. You’re met with endless texts and missed calls from Stacy: 

Stacypoo <33: where are you?

Stacypoo <33: we’ve looked everywhere

Stacypoo <33: we saw Hugh, are you okay? 

Stacypoo <33: pls answer, I’m getting worried 

The phone rings only once before Stacy answers. 

“Are you okay? Where are you?” She asks, voice full of worry. 

“Stacy I’m so sorry, everything happened so fast and I-” Your voice was rushed and full of remorse. 

“Hey. As long as you’re okay, it’s okay. Where are you right now?” She asks, voice calmer now. 

“I’m uh…I’m at Pedro’s hotel.” You lower your voice. You hear shuffling coming from the hall and Pedro is walking back out. He’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and hoodie, shoes forgotten about, fuzzy socks replaced his previous white socks that you caught peeking in between his loafer and dress pants earlier. 

“You’re what?!?” Stacy whispers yells on the other end of the line. 

“It’s a long story, I’ll explain later, promise. You made it back okay?” You ask. 

“Yea I’m fine, I called the car when the bar started wrapping the party up. Are you coming back tonight or should I schedule a pick up for the morning?” She asks. Pedro, places a set of clothes on the edge of the couch you’re sitting on and walks over to the small kitchen. 

“Um..I’m not exactly sure yet. Get some sleep though, I’ll figure everything out okay?” The smell of coffee fills the air as the keurig starts dripping. 

“You sure.” Stacy responds. Pedro smiles over at you as he leans back on the counter, arms crossed. 

“I’m sure. I’m sorry for worrying you, I’ll see you soon.” You smile over to Pedro. 

“Okay, be safe. Love you.” She yawns.

“Love you Stac.” The call ends. Pedro walks over as the next cup of coffee brews. 

“I brought you a hoodie as promised along with sweats and socks to keep you warm. Only the hoodie is required but the rest would be appreciated.” He smiles. You stand up, stretching a little. You grab the stack of clothes. 

“Where can I change?” You ask and he points down the hall. 

“There’s the bedroom right down the hall. The bathroom is there too if you’re more comfortable with that.” You nod and head down the hall. You opt for the bathroom, the thought of changing in Pedro’s room felt like an invasion of privacy even if it was just his hotel room and not his actual one. You changed out of your dress quickly, the endless lights on the vanity were bliding. You admired yourself in the mirror for a moment and decided you really liked the way you looked in Pedro’s clothes. The smell coming from them was new. It wasn’t like the smell of cologne you had gotten used to but the true scent of him. You left the bathroom with the hood of the hoodie placed on your head…it totally wasn’t because you could smell his scent better… 

“Do you want milk or sugar? I don’t have creamer, sorry if that’s your thing.” He says without looking, mixing his own coffee. 

“You bought milk for your hotel room?” You ask in shock and a hint of playful judgement, fully expecting to drink a black coffee. 

“God forbid a man likes a glass of milk before bed. I'm an old man sweetheart.” He says, with one eyebrow raised.

“You need to get off tiktok.” You laugh. “But, you’re not old.” You add on, moving towards the counter to add a splash of milk to your mug. 

“Older than you.” He replies with a hum. Taking a sip of his own coffee, which he almost spits out at your response. 

“But not old enough to invite a twenty three year old to your hotel right?” You ask, smirking. You walk over to the small island and take a seat on one of the bar stools, Pedro stands on the other side. 

“You got me there.” He says, looking into his mug. A guilty look flashes across his eyes when he looks up at you. 

“Hey, I didn’t say that to be mean. Just teasing.” You say, he nods. “It’s not a bad thing that I’m here.” 

“It should be.” He says and takes another sip. 

“Why’s that?” You ask but you know what he’s gonna say. It’s the same conversation you had with Hugh. 

“You’re what…like thirty years younger than me?” He says, not really a question but it’s posed as one. You shake your head. 

“Only twenty six years.” You correct him and he chuckles. 

“Right. Twenty six years, like that’s any better. I had a whole life before you were born. I’m probably only a few years younger than your parents.” He says as a joke and you wince. 

“You’re actually older than them…” You tell him and he looks up to the ceiling, almost as if he's cursing some higher being. 

“Great. I’m older than your parents. That makes me feel a lot better.” He shakes his head. 

“You brought them up. I was just trying to be honest.” You say, throwing your hands up in the air in surrender. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” He says, clearing his throat as he takes another sip of coffee. Your own coffee has been forgotten, getting cold as it sits on the counter. 

“What’s not my fault?” You ask confused. He looks up, eyes locking with yours. 

“That I’m infatuated with a girl over half my age.” He admits, sitting his own mug down on the counter. 

“You’re infatuated with me?” You ask in awe, disbelief even. You had a feeling he had to like you a little bit to stay up until three in the morning with you but hearing the words out loud is different. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks. “Since I met you, you haven’t left my mind.” He pauses. “And seeing you at BBC and hearing you weren’t with Hugh anymore, I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier. I felt bad because you seemed sad and I still feel bad for feelings as joyous as I did at that moment. We keep bumping into each other and I feel like I’m too old to believe in fate but…if it’s not that then what else could it be?” He says, eyes never leaving yours. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same way.” You admit, sheepishly. The shyness you’ve escaped was finally catching up to you. 

“Yea?” He asks with a smile, his dimple dipping into his cheek a little more than usual. 

“Yea.” You confirm. “Come here.” You tell him, swiveling the bar stool to face away from the counter. He walks over and you pull him by his hoodie sleeves, placing him in between your legs. You set his hands on your thighs and look up at him. The closeness makes your body tingle as his eyes set on yours. You each move forward slowly, lips inching closer and closer until they're almost touching. 

A phone rings and Pedro pulls back in a curse. He walks over to where his phone sits on the counter. 

“Sorry, I gotta take this. My sister is in London and she’s always forgetting about the time difference. I’ll be back.” He says, kissing your right cheek before stepping onto the balcony that’s attached to the small ‘living room’. You sigh, moving to the couch. Your eyes are heavy, the quietness of the room reminding you of the time. Pedro talks to his sister with a smile on his face, cigarette placed in between his fingers. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Pedro’s smile and little wave from outside.

thank you for reading! feel free to leave feedback in a comment, private message, or in my ask box!

🏷️ : @moonangxl @brittmb115 @starsmoonn @mmkkzz @angellreads @daydreamzsworld @goldfish-987 @peacefangirl @leclerc13 @llsister @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @needz1nk @olympe-lottie @mielsonrisa @sexyvixen7 @thezoddfather @joelmillerpascal @mega-kittyglitter-1 @bluetimeombre @stvrl1ghtt123 @lcvespedro @silksepia @maystyles @blushingwueen @pandamoaniumsworld

*pls comment on series masterlist comment section to be added to taglist. comments on this post will not be added!*

[lazysoulwriter]

Hahaha Pedro amd his wife actress being a manace on interviews is the kind of energy I live for!!!I imagine them being interviewed and being asked who are their celebrity crush and both saying each other....SOOOOOO FREAKING CUTE!!!

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS

It was a simple question. A classic, even.

But you should’ve known better the second Pedro turned toward you with that gleam in his eye — the one that always meant trouble. He didn’t even hesitate.

“You mean besides my wife?”

You rolled your eyes, already grinning. “You’re such a suck-up.”

“She’s literally sitting right here in a dress that’s making me forget how to breathe. What do you want from me?”

The interviewer laughed. You smacked his arm. Pedro just looked smug, clearly very proud of himself.

“I was gonna say Pedro too,” you admitted. “But now I feel like I need to pick someone else just to keep things balanced.”

He gasped — dramatic, hand-to-heart.

“Betrayal. On live television.”

“Okay, fine,” you said, turning to face the camera. “Pedro Pascal is my celebrity crush.”

Then, under your breath: “And my husband. So I win.”

Pedro melted. The interviewer melted. Everyone melted.

You two really were the worst. And, objectively, also the cutest.

[pankowcrumbs]

MasterList

Requests: Open

💕Fluff 🌶️Smut 18+ ❤️‍🩹 Angst 🖤Sad 💛Male reader ❤️‍🔥 possessive

💔 heartbreak

Prompt List and Characters who I write for.

Masterlist for Stranger Things Cast and Actors

Joseph Quinn Masterlist

Masterlist for Outerbanks and Actors

Masterlist for Formula One Drivers (and Ex Drivers)

Masterlist for Members of the Bands 5 Seconds of Summer, One Direction * and The Vamps

*Excluding Liam

Masterlist for Everyone in the Harry Potter Universe

Masterlist for Bridgerton Characters and Actors

Masterlist for Marvel Characters and Actors

(except Tom Holland ↓)

Tom Holland

💕 The Key (One shot requested)

Tom is shit at throwing and its integral to the scene making a hilarious mess up.

💛💕 Slip up X Male Reader (one shot requested)

You and Tom are married and he accidently outs you both on live TV.

💕Puppy Love(one shot requested)

The puppy interview with Tom

Sam Holland

Harry Holland

💕Tour (One shot)

Harry directs your Tour documentary but you both fall in love along the way.

Kit Connor

💕 The Last Box (one shot requested)

You and Kit meet in the most unlikely of places over a box of coco pops.

💕 The call (series)

You meet Kit at a house party in London.

Chapter 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

💕 When the wave hits (one shot requested)

You and Kit watch the Sunset together and get knocked over by a rouge wave.

💕 Let the woman speak (one shot requested)

Kit keeps Stealing the mic in an interview when you are asked questions.

💕 Pillow Fort (one shot requested)

You're having a Movie night with the cast of Heartstopper and it ends in chaos.

💕 Sneezes (one shot requested)

Kit Can't stop sneezing in a serious scene making everyone place bets and giggle.

💕 Sleepy (one shot requested)

You, Joe and William fall asleep and end up in a tangled mess leaving Kit to judge you all.

💕 Skating (one shot requested)

You and Kit go Ice skating with the Cast.

💕 Age Gap (one shot requested)

You are 5 years older than kit and it gets you anxious about what people say.

Kit Connor

💕 Exposed (one shot)

Kit reassures you when the pressure of being his girlfriend gets to you from the public.

💔 It'll Be Okay (one shot)

Story is inspired by the song It'll Be Okay by Shawn Mendes

Taron Egerton

💕 Blind Date (series)

you star alongside Taron in a movie.

Chapter 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11.

💕 Fame (one shot)

a meet cute on the carpet for Kingsman

Tom Hardy

💕 Whiskey Kisses (one shot)

a few too many drinks and karaoke and you're kissing your co-star.

💕 Game over (one shot)

A intense board game night

💕 Bookshelf (one shot)

When Tom comes home to you trying (and failing) to make a bookshelf.

Will Poulter Masterlist

Richard Madden Masterlist

Paul Mescal

💕 Blind date (one shot)

You and Paul are set up on a successful blind date.

Austin Butler

💕 Click (one shot requested)

You are a photographer and Austin won't stop flirting.

💕 Karaoke Confessions (one shot requested)

One night after Karaoke Austin your flatmate confesses his feelings towards you.

💕🌶️*Hands (one shot requested)

You express your obsession with Austin's hands and it turns you both on so much.

*smutty but not actual smut

Pedro Pascal

💕🌶️*Blurred Lines (long one shot)

You and Pedro are romantic love interests in a new movie but there is a 25 year aged gap and it gets complicated when the feelings are becoming real underneath the characters.

*implied movie scene smut but not real sex

🌶️ Younger (one shot)

You and Pedro at a hollywood party - there is a 25 year age gap and you have sex seeing where things go.

💕Dad's best friend (one shot)

You fall for your dad's best friend Pedro.

💔 Echoes of Us (one shot)

Story is inspired by the song Our Song by Anne-Marie and Niall

Horan

Charles Melton

💕The warfare love triangle

Charles' ending

A choose-your-own-ending story with a love triangle with Will, Joseph and Charles on the set of Warfare where they each try to swoon and charm you.

💕 Communicate (one shot requested)

You are deaf and Charles learns to communicate with you making you feel seen and valued.

💔 Vienna (one shot)

Story is inspired by the song Vienna by Billy Joel

YUNGBLUD/Dominic harrison

💕Photo albums (one shot requested)

You and Dom look through your old photo albums of you as a kid and it sparks a conversation about your future kids.

ACOTAR Rhysand Cassian Azriel

Fourth Wing Xaden Riorson Dain Aetos Ridoc Gamlyn

Asa Butterfield

Lewis Capaldi

Fred Hechinger

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[andy-15-07]

Live, Love, and Leap

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1357| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Hello it wont let me send you a request but Can you write an imagine where Pedro is doing an interview and he defends you two over the age gap and you two having a baby when he said he didn't want to be a daddy. @jellyfishmilkshake

Pedro Pascal sat back in his chair on the softly lit studio set of Morning Lights, the daytime talk show buzzing with anticipation. A muted cityscape projected behind him; hosts Mia Reynolds and Daniel Cho sat opposite, scripts in hand. Across from Pedro was a plush loveseat,reserved, he’d been told, for you, Y/N, arriving shortly.

Pedro adjusted his navy blazer and smiled at the cameras. He’d been on dozens of interviews, but today felt different. You were joining him live, and rumor had already leaked: your ten-year age gap, and tantalizing whispers that you two were expecting a baby. The tabloids would have a field day.

Mia checked her notes. “Pedro, thanks for joining us today. You’re here to chat about your new film, of course,”

Daniel chimed in, “,and some personal news we hear you’re ready to share.” He shot an arch look at Pedro, eyebrows raised.

Pedro laughed. “Well, I’m always happy to talk about the film, but yes,Y/N is about to join us with some news. But first…” He leaned forward, voice easy. “Any questions about the age thing, spoilers for the movie, or how many cups of coffee it takes to wrangle my five a.m. wake-up calls, fire away.”

Mia smiled. “Let’s start personal then. Pedro, you’ve said you never planned to be a father again,”

Pedro nodded, expression guarded. “I did. After the first, I meant it. But as life rolled on, Y/N came along. She upended my carefully laid plans.”

Daniel laughed. “In a good way, we hope?”

Pedro’s eyes softened. “In a very good way. Y/N makes me rethink everything.” He caught himself mid-sentence, noticing the camera angle. “Sorry,hope I’m not too mushy for early morning TV.”

Mia chuckled. “Not at all. Now, your fans are curious: she’s thirty, you’re fifty,does that age difference worry you?”

A slight murmur rippled through the audience, and Pedro lifted a hand. “Let me be clear: age is a number. If you love someone, if you respect their mind, their spirit,why should two digits stand in the way?” He paused for effect. “We learned from each other. I bring my experience; she brings boundless energy. Together, we’re a team.”

Daniel nodded. “Well said. And about that baby,”

Just then, you entered the set, wearing a soft cream dress that hugged your bump. You waved shyly. Pedro smiled broadly, standing to help you into your seat. He kissed your temple, then settled beside you.

Mia beamed. “Welcome! Congratulations to both of you.”

You reached for Pedro’s hand. “Thank you. It’s been… surreal.”

Daniel leaned forward. “Pedro, you once said on Late Night that you ‘didn’t want to be a daddy again.’ What changed?”

Pedro looked at you, then back to Daniel. “I said that because at the time, my plate was full. Then Y/N and I fell in love. And watching her navigate life with such courage and humor… how could I stay on the sidelines?” He shrugged. “I got swept up. Turns out, I do want to be a dad again,especially to this kid.”

You squeezed his hand, eyes bright. “The thought of being a mother was daunting until I saw how excited Pedro got at every ultrasound appointment.” You laughed softly. “He even read Dr. Seuss to my belly.”

The audience “awwwed.” Pedro feigned embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, gotta bond early. I want to be hands-on.”

Mia smiled. “That’s beautiful. But have you faced pushback,people saying you’ll ‘crush her spirit’ or that you’re ‘too old to chase after a toddler’?”

You glanced at Pedro. “A few people.” You shifted in your seat, voice firm. “But we have good friends,some at 30, some at 60,raising kids. Parenting isn’t age-dependent. It’s love-dependent.”

Daniel nodded approvingly. “And Y/N, does the age gap worry you?”

You took a breath. “I won’t deny that sometimes I wonder how we’ll navigate decade-wide life stages,career goals, retirement, health.” You turned to Pedro. “But we talk. We plan. He encourages me professionally,he’s my biggest fan at readings and auditions,and I keep him young. Literally.” You winked at him. “He’s become our neighborhood’s stealth fitness star.”

Pedro laughed. “She’s not lying. She drags me to yoga.”

You giggled. “We do goat yoga.”

The hosts laughed as Pedro pretended to shudder. “Goats everywhere.”

Daniel grinned. “Sounds like the perfect partnership. Now, people love to assign blame to age gaps: ‘He’s midlife crisis,’ or ‘She’s a gold digger.’ How do you handle that?”

Pedro answered smoothly. “By living and loving publicly. Let them speculate. We know the truth,our bond is built on respect, shared dreams, and genuine affection.” He leaned closer, voice low. “We’re partners in every sense: emotionally, creatively, and soon… diaper-changing.”

You laughed. “He’s already practicing.”

Pedro smirked. “My Steadicam skills translate to holding a squirmy baby.”

Mia held up her hand. “Okay, celebrity questions aside,what are you most excited about with parenthood?”

Your smile grew taut with anticipation. “Seeing the world through our child’s eyes. Y/N, you once told me you’d wanted kids but postponed parenthood to build your career.” Pedro squeezed your hand.

You nodded. “I always feared I’d have to choose,family or career. With Pedro, I realize it’s possible to have both. He supports me,I support him. That’s the scary and thrilling part.”

Daniel grinned. “So the rumors that you two will tour the world with a stroller,true?”

Pedro leaned back, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Absolutely. Backpack, gear, and baby. We’ll show the little one the Andes, the Alps, the Amalfi Coast. We’re not letting age or opinionated strangers keep us home.”

The audience cheered. Pedro smiled, then turned to you with a soft expression. “Speaking of… do you want to share the baby’s name?”

Your cheeks warmed. “We’ve settled on something meaningful: Alejandro.” You paused. “After my grandfather and after Pedro’s heritage.” Pedro’s eyes glistened.

Mia clapped. “Alejandro Pascal,you have a ring to it.”

Daniel nodded. “Beautiful. Now, just one more question: what’s your advice for couples in non-traditional relationships,age gaps, career differences, whatever?”

Pedro looked proud. “Talk. Communicate. Don’t let fear define you. Hold each other up, listen, and adapt. If you can’t sit down and ask, ‘How do you feel about this?’ you’re missing the point.”

You reached over and squeezed his hand. “And trust in love’s capacity to grow. We’ve seen each other at our worst and still chosen to stay. That’s the real foundation.”

Pedro smiled at you. “And I trust this little one will teach us more than we’ll teach them. That’s the adventure.”

Mia glanced at the clock. “We’re out of time, but thank you,both of you,for sharing this with us. Best of luck with Nightfall, and with parenthood!”

The audience erupted in applause. Pedro rose, offering his arm to you. You stood, smoothing your dress, and walked off-stage arm in arm.

Backstage, the hair-and-makeup team greeted you. Pedro leaned in and whispered, “You were brilliant.”

You sighed happily. “We did it.”

He kissed your temple. “We will. Every step,together.”

Outside the studio, cameras flashed as you exited to strike a joint pose. Photographers shouted congratulations. Pedro held your hand firmly, guiding you toward the waiting car.

Later that evening, nestled on the couch in your apartment, you unpacked the day’s recording on your laptop. Pedro flopped down beside you, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m proud of us,” he murmured, kissing your hair.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Me too.”

He pulled back, meeting your eyes. “Age is just a number, kiddo.”

You laughed. “Ten years of wisdom and ten years of foolishness,perfect balance.”

Pedro grinned. “Exactly.”

You leaned up for a kiss. “I love you.”

He smiled against your lips. “I love you too. Can’t wait to see Alejandro.”

Your smile glowed. “Our greatest role yet.”

He wrapped you closer and settled his chin on your shoulder. “Lights, camera, diaper bag.”

You laughed against his neck. “And we’ll ace it. Together.”

Outside, your city lights glittered. Inside, in the warmth of shared triumph and hope, you felt truly home. Whatever critics might say, whatever numbers defined your age, your love,and soon, your family,would always be your greatest story.