#pedr

Plot: A viral clip of you practicing a fight scene has Paul entranced

Word Count: 1.5K

Pairing: Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: fake fight scene, Paul obsessed with his girlfriend, laughter giggles, potential spoilers to Where the Wild Things Are [read here]

—————

The press junket for Gladiator 2 had been an exciting time traveling around the world visiting the sights and promoting a great project they made. While Paul was enjoying this work vacation it would have been a hundred times better if his girlfriend was with him and all the friends she made with the cast. But you were off bouncing between working in Canada or California for the TV series and film you had the joy of being a part of.

Paul unintentionally was starting to tune out the interviewer fiddling with his cuffs his mind drifting to thoughts of his girlfriend.

“This is a question for the both of you,” the interviewer’s voice drags Paul back into the moment, “If you could add anyone into the Gladiator world who would it be.”

It’s instantly when Paul says, “My girlfriend.” This causes a burst of loud laughter from both the interviewer and Joseph who was in the interviews with him.

“I would also want your girlfriend in this film,” Joseph jokes and Paul flushes with embarrassment at how fast he responded.

“Well you have worked with Y/n before,” the interviewer mentions and Joseph nods.

“She’s a delight to work alongside. She gave a hundred-ten percent effort into a Quiet Place, I’m sure Paul can confirm with her other works. I’d think she would’ve been a fantastic addition to this film.” Joseph explains and Paul nods a smile across his face.

“Paul I’m sure it would be exciting to be working alongside her?” he directs his question at him.

“I’d love to work with her, like Joe said she’s dedicated to every project and takes a deep care into every character she works with.” The compliments flow easily from him. He could spend hours praising you for your accomplishments and anything involving you. He was probably your biggest supporter outside of your own family or Pedro one of your closest friends.

“Well this is a perfect segway to more of a comment since you both know or worked alongside her,” the interviewer says swiping on their tablet, “Obviously you both know of her being cast for The Last of Us spin-off show with Y/n playing the lead with your gladiator co-star Pedro Pascal. Well this morning she posted a little behind-the-scenes sneak peek to a sequence, I was able to get Pedro’s comment on it.” That both piques their attention as he turns the tablet around for them to see before starting the video.

The video shows the open stunt space with you standing in the middle, “Ready?” whoever is behind the camera says and you give an enthusiastic thumbs up. On the outskirts of the frame is two stuntmen who look twice your size.

“Alright and fall!” Your body hits the mat hard groaning as if thrown off a horse before it’s a fluid dance. One of the men rushes up to use holding a fake hatchet and swinging it down on you but you swiftly move out of the way. The choreography is seamless as you disarm the hatchet as the stuntman pulls out a knife and it drags across your shoulder. You swing the hatchet with a growl and fake hit the guy's jaw as he falls onto his back where you drive the knife into his throat.

You stumble up to your feet the hatchet still in your grasp and coming up before you is the other stuntman holding a fake rope throwing it over your neck and starting to drag your back the camera following you two. One of your hands grasp the rope fighting violently in his hold with your other hand you drive the hatchet into his leg. Use both of your hands to keep the rope from choking you.

“Bam!” Someone behind the camera yells and the stuntman ‘choking’ you drop to the ground as you fall forward onto your knees coughing heavily while scrambling to grab the hatchet from the side. Pedro with a prop rifle appears as you swing the hatchet to defend yourself but are disarmed by him. You pause recognizing him as Joel before he pulls you to your feet putting pressure on your shoulder ‘wound’.

“Cut!” Immediately the tense energy fades as your pain expression turns joyous as people applaud and cheer at the performance. The ‘dead’ stuntmen get up patting your back and you look over at the camera.

“One of many fight scenes completed!” You smile throwing up a piece sign as Pedro wraps an arm around your shoulder before the video ends.

“Holy shit,” Joseph mumbles and Paul is silent state of awe. It was always a joy to see you act or see your work. But you felt completely natural in this role like it was crafted for only you to play.

“The video was posted this morning and has already gained millions of views. I know if I’m ever in an apocalypse I’ll want her protecting me.” the interviewer says and Joseph and Paul laugh at the comment.

“Yeah that was brilliant really,” Paul is at a loss for words and Joe elbows him.

“Starstruck Paul?” That makes him and the interviewer laugh.

“How could you not be,” He says pointing at the still frame of you and Pedro, “She’s a daredevil to the core, you know Joe if there’s a crazy stunt or anything that potentially causes harm she’s begged not to perform it. But the whole world has seen she’ll always end up doing it.”

Joe nods, “She’s an adrenaline junkie is what she is. During the final scene where my character and hers are running from the pack of Death Angels on the dock. In the film where she trips and I don’t know where it came from like a seasoned pro just completely breaks her fall and rolls through it then is back running until we jump into the water.” Joe shakes his head in still wonder.

“Because she’s a stuntwoman in her past life,” the interviewer says making the two men laugh.

“I’ll be sure to pass along that comment,” Paul chuckles, “But most likely she always likes projects with fight scenes or complicated stunts. Her working on both The Last Of Us and The Mandalorian and Grogu is feeding her craving.” With that, the conversation filters back into the film, and other topics are more focused on the actions.

Paul and Joseph are given a short break before the next interviewer comes in. His hairstylist tweaks a few stray hairs when he feels a buzz from his pocket. A smile crosses his face, seeing who was calling. In your contact photo from your first date together, you’re giving your best smolder while wearing his sunglasses.

“Ahhh, it looks like the loverboy’s got a special call,” Joe teases from his seat. Paul rolls his eyes but answers Facetime. His smile brightens when he sees your wide grin fill the screen.

“Hi, hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You say and he shakes his head.

“No just got a break before the next round,” he says, shifting the camera slightly to Joe.

“Hi Y/n!” He sends a wave with you happily responding giving an exciting ‘Hi Joe!’

“What are you up to?” Paul asks bringing his phone back to show him trying to decipher what he was seeing. You were dressed casually like you were going to exercise wearing one of his graphic tees.

“Got some weapons training, they’re going through all the stuff from pistols to archery. Just wrapped up with archery I’m a pretty decent shot which sucks cause it's the weapon I use the least.” you laugh panning the camera around, showing him the range you were in, “I feel like I’m being trained for war with all the shit I’m trying. Like I completely forgot she uses an automatic it’s very intimidating.”

Paul smiles at your rambling, “Hey if we ever get into an apocalypse you’ll be skilled in all that while I got my sword and skirts.” He prides himself on causing your laughter through the phone, even Joe laughs at his joke.

“If you’re wearing those skirts at the end of the world I’ll protect you with my life,” That makes Paul chuckle, “Alright I gotta go the group just came back. I love you and I’ll call you tonight, well your version of tonight.”

“I love you too, wait baby!” He calls out almost forgetting before you hang up, “I saw your video very impressive.”

You bit your lip to stop the smirk covering your face, “Thank you, oh, and quick news for the Mandalorian they just worked up this stunt where I get wired up and thrown out a window I’m so excited!” Paul and Joe can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of your enjoyment. If someone heard you out of the context that you’re excited to get thrown out a window they would be concerned.

“Well enjoy getting thrown out a window babe,” Paul says and you give exaggerated goodbyes and kisses before he hangs up. Joe gives him a smug look shaking his head,

“Your girlfriend’s crazy you know that.”

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: You make a comment to a reporter that you want to fuck Pedro Pascal. Chaos ensues!

A/N: 18+only

Masterlist

🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭

You wake the next morning tangled in your bedsheets wearing only your underwear. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth, and your eyes are on fire – which means that you obviously went to bed wearing your contact lenses. Desperate for a pee, you stumble blindly into the bathroom, tripping over your dress, which lies discarded on the bedroom floor, and almost crack your head against the sink.

Looking at your reflection, you quickly realise that you obviously forgot to remove your makeup too. Black mascara is smeared across your face and there’s lipstick on your chin. Your hair, once perfectly coiffured, resembles a bird's nest – sticking up haphazardly at one side. You look as though you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.

In addition, you can remember very little about what happened after Emma Thompson started buying you drinks. You think that you, Emma, Vicky and former MP Edwina Currie might have burst into a rendition of This is Me from The Greatest Showman at one point, but you wouldn’t like to bet your life on it. You do remember buying chips and cheese from a late-night chip shop further down the Southbank, but you literally have no memory of how you got home. Thankfully – you appear to be alone.

Pulling at your eyeballs, you remove your contact lenses, wipe the remains of your makeup off, brush your teeth, then swirl some paracetamol down your throat before stumbling back to bed. Your phone lies discarded on the bed and when you press the button, it lights up to tell you that Brian called you ten times – leaving two voicemails, your mother a further five and Millie has left you a bazillion text messages.

Brian’s first voicemail is bemused, his second is irritated. Your mother sounds affronted, and Millie’s messages could be described as nothing other than gleeful. Her latest one, all capital letters, screams at you.

OH, MY FUCKING GOD HE REPLIED!!!!

“Who replied?” you mutter to yourself. “And to what?” Flicking to Instagram, your interview once again comes up first on your feed. There are 2.5k likes and 756 comments. All of them are supportive, with a fair smattering of laughing face emojis – and then you see it.

Pascalispunk has commented on the story.

He’s left two emojis – the ‘looking’ double eyes and a purple devil.

“Holy shit.” You stare at it for a good thirty seconds, then throw your phone face down. “Oh God…” Even though you’re alone, you can feel your face flush with embarrassment. What’s worse than the person you have a secret crush on finding out about said crush – oh, maybe when it’s a hot celebrity and everyone in the world finds out about it at the same time.

You lift your phone again and see that 452 people have replied to Pedro’s comment.

You have to meet!

Pedro, come to the UK!

Oh my God, it’s like Married at First Sight!

You’re not quite sure about that last one.

Your finger hovers. Should you reply to his comment? Post a few cheeky emojis in response? Should you reply to any of the general public who have commented? That’s when you see your notification status is red, confirming that you have 341 new followers. You also have 31 direct messages – 27 are funny and cheeky, 4 call you a slut. You delete them all quickly.

You’ve no idea what time it is in Japan, but you decide to call Brian first before your mother. It rings out three times before he answers, voice clipped.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you say with faux brightness. “Sorry I missed your calls.”

“Really? Have you just woken up?”

“Something like that.”

“Good night, was it?”

You hate his tone – so smug and self-satisfied. “It was alright. I didn’t win – not that I expected to – and then I had a few drinks with Vicky McClure, Emma Thompson and, I think, Edwina Currie.”

“And I bet they were all slapping you on the back and telling you how wonderful you are – how brave and open.”

“Don’t know what you mean,” you mumble.

“Hmm – it’s all over Instagram, as if you didn’t know.”

“Jesus…” you exhale. “I’m sorry, okay? She asked me the question and I just…”

“Said you wanted to get fucked by some Chilean actor.”

You pause. “That’s a bit racist.”

“You couldn’t have said something nice about us?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know – something, anything. Christ, we’ve been together five years, I’m sure you could have come up with something, even if you were pissed.”

“Who says I was pissed?”

“You’re not telling me you’d have given that answer sober, are you?”

“I…I don’t know, maybe. I suppose I thought I was being funny.”

“As opposed to coming across as a complete slut?”

His words bring you up sharp. “Is that what you think I am?”

“Well, forgive me for thinking that if Paco Pascal had been there…”

“Pedro.”

“Whatever – forgive me for thinking that if he had been there and heard you say that you would have shagged him.”

“What – in the Southbank Centre? Don’t be so ridiculous!”

“Oh, so you would have taken him back to our flat then, would you? Or maybe gone to his hotel?”

“This is stupid,” you swing your legs out of bed again and make your way slowly into the kitchen. “Even if he had been there, I very much doubt he’d have wanted to shag me.”

“Oh right, as opposed to you taking the view that you’re in a long term, committed relationship and aren’t interested in anyone else – even Poncho Pascal?”

“Pedro!”

“Not the point!”

“For fuck’s sake!” You bang the cupboard doors searching for mugs and coffee. “If I embarrassed you, I’m sorry.”

“If you embarrassed me? I’ve already had three work colleagues – work colleagues – message me about it and I’ve got a voicemail from my boss that I’m too scared to listen to!”

“I thought you had meetings today?”

“I do! So, I’m going to have to go and face these people! What exactly am I supposed to say?! The Japanese take this sort of thing very seriously!”

You decide not to ask him to elaborate on what this sort of thing is. As the coffee granules dissolve in the boiling water, you can’t help but think back on a hundred similar conversations you’ve had in the past. Not about you publicly saying you want another actor to fuck you – because this is the first time for that – but rather about how you embarrass him in general. Brian hates how loud you get after a drink, how opinionated you can be. He’s frequently questioned some of your work choices and he sat through the entire three episodes of said nominated drama and then claimed it was just alright.

You’re not sure he even bothered to pay attention to the last series of Spies.

You also haven’t shagged in more than six weeks.

“Why don’t you tell them…” you pause and take a breath, because this has been on your mind for some time now, but it’s the first time you’ve given voice to it. “Why don’t you tell them that it’s over?”

“I hope it bloody is over! I’ll tell them you completely took leave of your senses! Maybe I’ll throw in that you’re considering a referral for psychiatric treatment.”

“No, I’m talking about us, Brian. Why don’t you tell them that our relationship’s over?”

“Well, that won’t work once I’m back in London and we get papped on Hampstead Heath again.”

You close your eyes and shake your head. “We won’t get papped if we’re not in a relationship anymore.”

You can hear him breathing at the other end of the phone for a good minute before he speaks. “What?”

“Look, I just think…”

“You’re dumping me?”

“It’s not…” you fight for the right words. “It’s been too hard for a while now, don’t you think? We’ve not been getting on, we both work long hours – deliberately at times – and…maybe it’s time to accept that we’re just not right for one another.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Was this all part of some plan?”

You frown. “Was what all part of some plan?”

“Your comment last night. Was it all part of some plan? Have you been fucking Pablo Pascal all this time?”

“Pedro and no, of course not! I’ve never met the man – nor am I likely to! Brian…” you sigh heavily. “I just…”

“I’m not talking about this over the phone,” he replies, clipped. “And I have work to do. I’ll be back mid-week, and we can talk about it then. Maybe you could just keep your mouth shut in the meantime.”

“I…”

He hangs up before you can reply.

****

Your mother spends the best part of forty minutes firstly berating you for your language, secondly telling you how embarrassed she is that everyone appears to have seen the clip, including her friends from church, and then finally starts asking you various questions about Pedro’s career that makes you wonder if she doesn’t, secretly, agree with you about the best way to spend a Sunday.

“I’ve never played the game,” you say in response to a question about The Last of Us and how much he’s likely to be in it. “I’m not a fifteen-year-old boy.”

She hangs up, muttering something about dragging out your brother’s old Atari 64 which makes you suddenly realise that he’s the one person you haven’t heard anything from yet. Of course, you’re not sure what kind of signal he might have in the jungles of Sierra Leone, but you figure the news will filter out that way eventually. No doubt he’ll have an opinion which will either range from congratulating you on your positive body autonomy and wondering if there’s any chance Pedro might be interested in supporting his environmental cause to revoking the suggestion he made last month whilst pissed on native pure alcoholic beverages that you become patron of his charity. Either way, you’re sure it’ll be an interesting conversation.

Showered and changed, you flop down in front of the television and turn on This Morning just in time to catch what’s coming up after the break.

“And coming up next…” Holly Willoughby says, grinning into the camera. “It was the BAFTA awards in London last night. Our Alison Hammond was there, and she’ll be giving us all the gossip on who won what, who wore what…and what a certain actress said when asked how she’d like to spend her ideal Sunday. See you after the break.”

“Shit…” you hold up the remote to click to another channel, then stop. Whilst part of you would like to forget last night ever happened, another part of you is eager to hear what the pundits make of you. So, you sit through the usual adverts for toilet roll, floor cleaner, weight loss and the RSPCA and then sit slightly straighter as the intro music plays for the programme’s return.

“Now, last night it was the BAFTA awards at the Southbank Centre in London,” Holly says. “Alison Hammond was there with all the gossip from the night. We’ll be talking to her in a moment, but let’s take a look at the winners…and losers.”

Alison’s report flashes up on the screen – images of the great, the good, the well-dressed and the not-so-well-dressed interspersed with red carpet comments and inserts of some of the big winners and their speeches. It’s a three-minute puff piece that quickly ends with Alison in the studio, grinning broadly.

“Alison, what a night,” Holly purrs.

“Oh, it certainly was. I’ve only had about two hours sleep,” Alison guffaws. “But I’m a professional, so here I am.”

“Run us through some of the big moments of the night.”

Alison prattles on for thirty seconds about the events of the night before turning serious. “But…the big news from last night, what’s been going crazy on social media, is what our favourite Spies actress had to say when she was asked a question on the red carpet by MTV. Now, this wasn’t broadcast as part of the show, but it’s gone viral on Instagram. We’ve edited it, given the time of day but, well, here you go.”

Your image fills the screen.

“This is obviously a big Sunday night for you, but what would be your ideal Sunday if you weren’t here?”

“My perfect Sunday...hmmm, well I think I would have to say that my perfect Sunday would be spent in bed with Pedro Pascal, letting him bleep me until I forget what my name is.”

The camera cuts back to the studio where Holly has her hand clamped over her mouth and Alison is wobbling with laughter.

“Oh, my goodness!” Holly exclaims. “I mean…”

“I know! Good on her! I reckon she was saying what a lot of us ladies have been thinking!”

“Oh, so you like a bit of Pedro Pascal then?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Alison chortles again. “I think it was a very brave, honest and perhaps slightly wine-fuelled answer, but you’ve got to admire her for that. She spoke her truth.”

“She did speak her truth,” Holly agrees. “But is there likely to be any backlash over her comments?”

“Well, I don’t know what Pedro might think – we reached out to his management for comment, but they haven’t replied…”

Jesus.

“…but I don’t think it’s that bad, do you? It’s not like she’s starring in anything where they’re going to think what she said was offensive.”

“True.”

“Her show’s all about espionage, dark dealings, murder…now if she was starring in a programme about nuns, there might be a problem.”

Everyone laughs again.

“Well, thank you Alison, we can let you get home for a kip now.” Holly grins again. “Next up, we’ve got Phil in the kitchen talking us through how to make the most perfect Caesar salad.”

You click off the television and dial Neil’s number.

He picks up on the second ring. “Babes, I’m just watching This Morning.”

“And…?”

“And I’m loving how this is mostly getting spun as you being brave and honest and true to yourself…”

“I said I wanted to fuck someone, Neil, not donate my living organs to medical research.”

“No, but I was worried we might get more of the slut shamers coming out of the woodwork,” he replies. “Most comments have been very positive so far. I still need to go back to the editors though for something official.”

“Why can’t I just put something on my Instagram?”

He pauses. “Like what?”

“I don’t know – something completely unrelated so that people think I’m really not bothered? Or I could make a reference to Pedro, you know, sort of tongue in cheek.”

He makes a noise that sounds like a cat being run over. “I don’t think you should say anything else about Pedro. I mean, it’s been taken well, but you don’t want to come across like some sort of stalker.”

“He commented on the story.”

“I saw.”

“With eyes and a devil emoji.”

“Well maybe he wants to fuck you too but, regardless, I think the best thing to do is try to just nurse this gently over the next few days and it’ll be gone by the end of the week. I have it on good authority that that hunky actor from Emmerdale is about to come out.”

“Okay…”

“So, I’m going to tell the editors that…”

“I stand by what I said.”

“Oh God, no.”

“Okay…that what I said was tongue in cheek and I was just having a little fun?”

“Better. And you post something non-related. Something boring. A picture of your cat.”

“I don’t have a cat.”

“Well, borrow someone else’s. Just post something that’s designed not to excite and whatever you do…don’t re-post the interview.”

When you eventually hang up the phone you check your messages again. Nothing from Brian, a link to The Last of Us video game on Amazon from your mother and sixteen half-naked photos of Pedro from Millie. Back in Instagram, the likes are now up to 4.5k, you have another 251 followers, and your eyes can’t help but burn as they stare at Pedro’s emoji response.

“Fuck it,” you say to nobody as you re-post the interview and add a heart.

🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭

What do I do???

Whatever you like - Ansu Fati

Social Media Au

Summary: “And, baby, you could have whatever you like ... I said you could have whatever you like .....

Stacks on deck, patron on ice,

And we can pop bottles all night And, baby, you could have whatever you like ...."

A/N: Pumping out a bunch of fragmented ideas and some stuff I never post because I like to disappear like [redacted]😍

Ansufati posted for the first time in a while

Ansufati My baby can have whatever she likes😘😎💕💕

fan1 I KNOW THAT'S RIGHT!!!!

➡️ liked by author

hater1 I don't kno y he's with this greazy b8tch! He should get someone who actually loves him and not his money🤔😪🤐

hater2 Right! It's only about money with her!

hater3 He should be with me instead, I'd treat him right!

lamineyamal Yooo 😭Why is there a big doofus convention happening in these comments?

_ferminlopez 💀💀💀

hater2 Mybe if she wasn't a 🤑💵💵 hungry fien we wouldn't have to say these things. Ure too young to understand anyways!!

➡️lamineyamal replied with a gif

➡️ yourusername Get em again for me nephew!!!

fan2 It must be niceee.....😔😔😟

fan3 When will it be my turn Lord🙏🙏🤲

yourbestfriend My favorite couple!! Y'all are so cute wtffff. Ansu actually looks decent for once!

➡️ yourusername Thank you, my love🥹🥹🥰🥰

Ansufati So we're just going to ignore...ok

Pablogavi I think you look great always!!

Ansufati I love you bro 💞

Pablogavi I love you too bro!!! 💞💞

yourbestfriendusername 🧍🏾‍♀️

yourusername 🧍🏾‍♀️

fan4 she's so lucky

fan5 He's so lucky!! Leave him, I will treat you so much better @ yourusername

hater2 NOOOO! I'm literally right hereeeee Ansu, why her??? You deserve better. She's a gold digger. She's just trying to be a WAG

lamineyamal replied with a Gif

yourusername He spoils me rotten y'all 😭🤗💕💕My man, my man, my man

fan As he should!!! DTF😒🤷‍♀️ As a man, it's the least he can do....

yourusername Ok now...😭😭

Ansufati 😭

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yourusername posted on their story

Hater2 replied to your story

hater2 Everyone else will be shocked when you bleed him dry but not me!! I see you for who you really are

hater2 Gold digging h*e!!

hater2 Leave him alone so he can find real love

hater2 He don't LOVE YOUUU😡😡

hater2 KYSS

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"Omg, can this girl find something better to do. This is insane, like it actually gets to a point. Why do people feel like they have the right to say these things about me?" you exclaimed, your voice trembling as you scrolled through the hateful comments.

He glanced at your phone, his jaw tightening. "Don’t let it get to you," he said firmly. "These people don’t know us, don’t know you. They’ have nothing going on in their lives so they choose to bring others down."

You put the phone down, folding your arms in frustration. "But it’s not fair, Ansu. They’re calling me a gold digger like I don’t actually care about you."

He moved closer, gently taking your hand. "Listen, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. I know how much you mean to me, and that’s the only thing that matters. Let them talk. At the end of the day, their opinions don’t change what we have."

His words made you feel a little lighter, but the sting of the comments still lingered. Seeing the frustration in your eyes, he picks up your phone and started scrolling and tapping.

"What are you doing?" You try to take a peak but he moves away every time you get close.

After a couple futile attempts he finally shuts the phone off and hands it back to you.

You look at him suspiciously. "What did you do?"

"Sent them our nudes."

Your brain screeched to a halt.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. We don't even have nudes, so I don't know why you bought that. I just posted on my account again; take a look."

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Ansufati posted

Ansufati She’s more than the labels people try to put on her. She’s my peace, my biggest supporter, and the person who keeps me grounded through it all. The love and care she gives me every single day are beyond what anyone could imagine. For those who don’t know her, let me make it clear—she’s here because of me, not what I have. And for those who do know her, you already see how special she is. Let’s focus on spreading love, not hate. Grateful for you always. ❤️

Comments have been limited

lamineyamal I KNOW THAT'S RIGHT!!!

ayoedebiri Ignore the haters, you guys are sooo lovely!!