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joelssimp · 2 days ago

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STILL | CHAPTER 20

CW: Sister chaos energy. Domestic, and fluff. Not much on this one, I wanted to explore more of her relationship with Mandy, and how Mandy is slowly changing.

7.2K words

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20 - Mandy

December was its own rhythm. Came in quietly, wrapped in so much snow and the kind of cold that made every breath feel heavier inside my chest. With production on hold, the days stretched out in unfamiliar ways. No early call times, no more standing in frozen sets, and no more frantic mornings prepping gear before light faded. Just… soft mornings working from home, coffee or tea hot in our hands, and some relaxing for the mind.

I stood at the window, fingers curled around a mug of coffee I made in that lazy morning, watching the snow fall thick and slow on the streets of Calgary. It drifted down like it had all the time in the world — soft, constant and endless, like it didn’t care that everything in me still felt like the world was moving too fast.

Matt was doing better in a new clinic up in Ottawa. He sent updates almost every other day now—mostly photos or short texts saying that the routine helps a lot. His eyes were clearer and steadier. There was more weight on his face, more color too. It wasn’t perfect, but it was him, or as much of him that I remember, enough that the ache in my chest loosened its grip just a little.

I scrolled through his last message while the steam rose past my face. He looked like someone who had been pulled from deep water and finally found land he could step into. Like he could breathe again, and that felt like a small victory in a sense.

On the other hand, around London, I haven't heard much from my dad. Just one small message after the facility confirmed payment had gone through. “Thank you.” That was it. No follow-up, no guilt this time. Just silence, but not in a cruel way. Just dad in his pride, too big to swallow.

And then there was everything else too—The award was coming. I kept forgetting that it was real, that people were still talking about the photos I took. Interviews were scheduled for January in Los Angeles. I have to fly down there, talk to people about my work, spread the good news about how it feels to work for fifteen to sixteen hours straight, to answer agents, and production. How it feels to be a small part of a giant machine. And to claw my way up the latter alone, trying and error every time.

Pedro will be around the town too. January for him meant Mandalorian season 3 production, and endless nights for me without him by my side.

Since we got back from Canmore we were still… us. Just a little more quiet, and careful. Still tucked behind knowing looks and quiet nights and the way his voice sounded when no one else was around. There wasn’t a name for it yet, at least not one I could say out loud without risking what we have.

But it was as real as it could get behind closed doors. Just us knowing each other, learning a little more each day. Making each other feel good—sometimes too good.

I caught my reflection in the window and didn’t recognize it right away. I looked… tired, and even a little older from the harsh months I’ve endured. But I didn’t feel fragile anymore. Those months had taken so much, but they also gave me more than I could count.

From where I stood I could see the cars coming around the block, and just as my watch turned to another hour of the day I saw the cab turning with an unhurried pace.

She was finally here.

I set the mug down too fast, almost knocking it over. My heart jumped in that stupid, familiar way it always did when something good is about to happen. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to see someone who knew me the way she did — before all of this. Before Pedro, before the Pandemic and all the complications, before everything cracked open inside me.

She stepped out of the cab bundled in a ridiculous purple scarf, dragging a suitcase across the icy sidewalk, her hair half-tucked into her coat, like she left in a hurry to get here as fast as possible.

Kate peeked out from her bedroom door, hair a mess, one eye still closed. “She’s here?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, suddenly blinking too fast. “She’s here.”

For the first time in weeks, the flat didn’t feel like a pressure cooker of leftover tension. It didn’t feel like a reminder of everything I hadn’t said to Kate yet.

It felt… softer. Something close to the word “home.”

The knock on the door was barely necessary — I was already halfway across the flat before it came. I opened the door just as the sixteen-year-old raised her hand again, too impatient to wait a couple of seconds. The handle of her suitcase was swinging out behind her like an extra limb.

“Oh my God, it is so cold,” Mandy blurted, barreling inside before I could even get a hello out. “Like, my eyelashes froze walking from the car. That’s a thing? Nobody told me that was a thing.”

I caught her in a tight hug before she could say anything else. Tighter than she expected me to. For a moment, her body stilled inside my arms, but then, she wrapped her arms around me like she knew just what I needed. The way her warmth filled in all the spaces that were still cold inside me, made me exhale softly.

She pulled back with a grin. “Okay, now I’m happy.”

I laughed. “You weren’t before?”

“I was freezing. And your cab driver was listening to this conspiracy podcast so loud, I think I know everything about the moon landing being fake now.” She rolled her eyes as she kicked off her boots. “Also… what’s with the airport being built like a maze? I swear I walked in circles for fifteen minutes before I found the exit.”

She had her scarf half-unwound already, cheeks pink and flushed from the cold, hair full of static. She looked exactly like herself — too much energy, not enough patience, and somehow already planning five things at once before her body had caught up to her brain.

Kate peeked out from her room again, holding a mug. “You’re loud.”

Mandy pointed a finger at her. “And you’re grumpy.”

Kate cracked a smile at that. Mandy had that effect on anybody.

“I brought gifts,” Mandy added in a singsong voice, dropping her tote bag onto the couch. “And snacks. But mostly just me. Aren’t you so lucky?”

“Unbelievably,” I said, still smiling like an idiot.

She launched into a story before I could even ask anything — something about a woman in the seat next to her painting her nails mid-flight (“Hot pink. In an airplane. Who does that?”), and how she almost missed her connection in Edmonton because the gate changed three times. She moved around in our flat like she belonged there, tossing her coat onto the back of the chair, opening a window a crack because “It smells like airplane in here.” Even though the smell came from her clothes.

I didn’t interrupt. Not like there’s anything like stopping Mandy.

I just watched her.

How her face lit up when she talked about things that made her excited, and she was excited to be here — really, genuinely excited, like I haven’t seen her be this happy since March 2020. And it was not because of some bucket list, or because she wanted to escape home for the holidays. She was happy to be my little sister again, to spend time together.

“I have so many plans,” she said, pulling out her phone and scrolling. “Okay, listen, there’s this café that does cinnamon lattes with brûléed marshmallows—yes, you heard that right. And also I found this lake thing people go skating on? And we’re doing that. I don’t care if I fall on my face, you’re coming with me.”

“Skating?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Or watching other people fall, whatever. And—oh! We have to go to Banff sometime, because I’ve never forgiven you for showing me those gorgeous pictures. I want to se mountains with snow. Like full snow globe moment, alright?”

“Okay,” I said softly.

Mandy looked up from her phone. “Okay, what?”

“Okay… I’ll go. To all of it.”

She paused. And then her expression shifted. It was just the kind of shift that only sisters could read. Something behind her eyes softened. That little girl who would cry to me because someone from pre-k stole her toy. That little girl who would always find comfort in me, and I was always there for her. It all just came out in that solo look she gave me.

“Glad you’re here, Mandy.” I spoke so softly, she almost didn’t catch it.

Her smile made everything worth it.

It only took a few hours until she was already doing what she did best: noticing everything. Not just the big things — not the pictures on my bedroom wall, no, those were too easy to spot. Pedro, Bella and Kate in almost all of them.

Mandy noticed the little things. The kind of details I usually thought would go untouched by anyone. But she wasn’t anyone… She was detective Mandy on the case.

“You changed your shampoo,” she said casually as she leaned into the bathroom mirror, using my eyelash curler without asking. “Smells woodsy, and expensive.”

I didn’t answer. She already knew.

She turned and looked at me through the mirror. “Is it his?”

I shrugged, towel-drying my hair. “He uses it, yeah. It’s a nice smell.”

Mandy made a face like she’d caught me red-handed. “You’re using his shampoo.”

“And?”

She didn’t say anything. And honestly? She didn’t need to, that look on her face said it all. And only a sister could get away with it.

By mid-afternoon, I realized she was collecting clues like it was a murder mystery. A pair of socks that were obviously too big for me. A hoodie I didn’t even bother pretending wasn’t his. My laptop wallpaper — a photo of us at his apartment, my head resting on his shoulder, and him kissing the top of my head.

Mandy spotted that one from across the living room, of course.

“Oh my God,” she said, throwing a pillow at me, “you’re so gone for him.”

I ducked and blushed like I was sixteen all over again. “It’s just a nice photo.”

“It’s a photo of a rom-com movie, you guys are the main characters by the way” she said, crossing her arms, “and you’re glowing like hell.”

I tried to play it cool. Failed, obviously.

Later, while she was nosing around the kitchen for snacks, she paused at the magnet on the fridge. It was tiny and plain, shaped like a film clapperboard. The kind of thing you’d miss if you weren’t paying attention. But she paid attention to everything.

“This is new,” she said, tapping it with her finger.

I nodded. “He got it for me. Last week I think.”

“And now it’s here,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly like she was piecing together a puzzle. “Hmm.”

I turned away before she could keep staring at me like that.

But then came the moment I’d been waiting for — the one I was looking forward to the most. I pulled the small box out of the drawer by my bed. It was wrapped carefully in a black paper. He left right before going to the airport to board to L.A a few days ago. Told me not to open it, that it wasn’t for me.

“She’s gonna love it,” he said, that night, smiling to himself. “It’s not big or anything. Just… something I thought of when I saw it.”

I held the box in both hands now and turned to find Mandy curled up on the couch, scrolling on her phone.

“I have something for you,” I said.

She glanced up, eyes curious. “What?”

“It’s from Pedro.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Pedro who… oh, right, the Pedro fucking Pascal”

I rolled my eyes. “Just open it.”

She took the box and sat up, untying the string slowly. “You’re not gonna tell me what it is?”

“Nope.”

She peeled back the paper, opened the box, and went silent.

Inside was a necklace — simple, delicate, a thin silver chain with a small star pendant. Etched on the back was just one word. Luz.

“He said it reminded him of you,” I said quietly. “Because when I talk about you, I always say you’re the light in the room. That you make people feel better just by being around.”

Mandy stared at it, her fingers brushing the charm gently.

“He remembered that?” she asked, voice a little smaller now.

“Yeah.”

She swallowed. “Did you tell him I wanted something to remind me of this trip?”

“No. He just thought of it.”

She looked up at me, eyes glassy, “He doesn’t even know me.”

“He knows me,” I said. “And I think… that’s enough for now.”

Mandy nodded, holding the necklace to her chest like she didn’t want to let it go.

“Okay,” she said, voice steadier now. “I officially approve.”

“Approve of what?”

“Of the fact that you’re stupidly, recklessly, deeply into a man who notices this much about people.”

I laughed, feeling that warmth ripple through me again.

“Also,” Mandy added with a grin, “I’m keeping the shampoo.”

It was one of those rare winter days in Calgary where the sky was so blue it felt like a lie. Mandy had practically shoved me out of bed that morning with a “We didn’t cross half the country to stay inside, or at least I didn’t.”

Kate was already moving through the kitchen, ready for the day, and making the most delicious pot of coffee for a winter morning.

We moved fast. Mandy was hurrying us all around, because she wanted to enjoy as much as possible before she got too tired — with the small detail that she was almost never tired when it comes to tourist things.

“Okay, but where are we going?” I asked, stuffing gloves into my coat pocket as we locked the door behind us.

“Somewhere cute,” Mandy said.

“Somewhere with hot chocolate,” Kate added, bumping her shoulder against mine. “And somewhere that has at least one moose decoration, because your sister is on a full Canadian fantasy tour.”

We ended up at this little market just outside the city. It had stalls filled with overpriced ornaments, handmade mittens, maple-flavored everything, and a live folk band playing holiday covers of pop songs. Mandy was already halfway through a cinnamon sugar beaver tail before I could even blink.

“I like her,” Kate said, nodding at Mandy with a smile.

“I know,” I said, grinning.

Mandy overheard us. “You know, I like you too, Kate. I didn’t know what to expect, but it’s like… you’re the cool best that grounds this mess of a sister I have.”

Kate beamed. “Well, it’s hard being the best-kept secret of the crew.”

“I know, It must be a burden,” Mandy said, licking her fingers clean. “She’s the worst at lying.”

My brows rose. “Are we talking about me like I’m not here?”

“Kind of,” they said in unison.

It only got worse after that. Every time I said anything, and I mean, anything — they found a way to make it about Pedro, or my love life.

“I’m cold,” I said, following Mandy down the end of the market.

“Bet you wouldn’t be if your boyfriend was here.” Kate said in a mocking tone.

A few minutes later my stomach growled. It was almost lunch time, and I hadn’t eaten much.

“I’m starving.” The comment left my lips before I could think about it.

“Pedro would’ve packed snacks. He looks like a snack-packer.” Mandy teased, her laugh a little too high.

I rolled my eyes.

We stopped at a little tent filled with maple leaf shaped hats. I got one to try it on, and regretted right away.

“Is this hat too much?” I asked

“No, but Pedro would lie and say you looked cute anyway.” Said Kate with a smug smile.

“Okay,” I groaned, dragging my scarf up to hide half my face. “You two are menaces.”

Kate wrapped an arm around me, grinning like the devil on a shoulder. “You love it.”

And truthfully… I did. There was something ridiculously comforting about watching the two of them become fast friends — Kate, with her dry sarcasm and way-too-observant eyes, and Mandy, with her bright energy and no-filter honesty. They fit around me like two puzzle pieces, slipping into the spaces I didn’t realize had been feeling a little empty lately.

When we sat down on a bench with hot drinks, Mandy leaned in and said, “So… how serious are you two?”

Kate looked at me like she also wanted to know.

I blinked at them. “Wow. Zero chill.”

Mandy sipped her hot chocolate. “Answer the question.”

I hesitated, heart doing that annoying flutter it always did when I thought about him for more than five seconds. It’s kind of inevitable now. He was the best part of my days, and I couldn’t even remember my life without him in it. Weird how people can turn your little world inside out in just a matter of time.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s… a lot. He is a lot, loud, and so good to me. And maybe it scares me a little how right it feels to be with him.”

Kate nudged my boot with hers. “He’s gone for you.”

“I know,” I said softly.

Mandy smiled like she already knew everything I wasn’t saying out loud. “He’ll be back for Christmas, right?”

“Yeah. He had meetings and fittings in L.A. But he’ll be back before the 24th. We’re invited to his latino Christmas, or whatever it is we’re doing together.”

“Good,” Kate said. “Because I want to see you both being disgustingly in love under twinkle lights.”

“I want to see it snow while you kiss him,” Mandy added, voice dreamy.

“Okay, I’m cutting you both off,” I laughed, standing up with my drink. “No more sugar for either of you.”

They followed me, still grinning, still teasing, and I let them. Let myself be wrapped in the ease of it — in the kind of day you only dream about once or twice. Filled with love, and easy teasing, and a warmth in the middle of a cold winter

He wasn’t here, but he was everywhere. In the way they teased using his name on more times than I can count. In the way I smiled without noticing anytime Mandy or Kate said something that instantly reminded me of him. And also in the way they already saw the parts of him that had quietly stitched themselves into me.

The days with Mandy melted into each other like marshmallows in hot chocolate.

Every morning started the same way: I’d wake up to the sound of her already rummaging through the kitchen, humming something cheerful and off-key, trying to make breakfast with whatever was left in the fridge. She didn’t cook as much as she assembled, like someone running a one-woman buffet of toast, cereal, fruit, and way too many condiments for that early in the morning.

“I made you your favorite breakfast,” she said one morning, presenting me with a single pancake and three pieces of bacon stacked in the shape of Yoda ears. “Just how you used to make it for me.”

I blinked at the plate. “So it’s… Baby Yoda themed?”

“Excuse me, it’s Grogu.”

Right. The best star-wars fan this planet has seen. God forbid I make a mistake about it next to her, and now, next to him too. He warned me about the Baby-Yoda and Grogu thing before he left. And also commented on how Mandy would react to him.

“Just… prepare yourself,” he’d said, laughing, “in case she thinks I’m actually Din Djarin.”

I’d laughed too, but now? Now I was starting to believe she might just lose her shit.

“She’s adorable,” Kate had whispered to me the night Mandy arrived, after they’d exchanged maybe two sentences and my sister had already complimented her earrings, her sweater, and the flat itself. “Also? I think she’s low-key taking over my spot as your platonic soulmate.”

“You’ll share custody,” I’d told her.

And truly, our week was filled with just us three. Jokes, teasing, and this warm environment Mandy brought upon us. She was always singing, laughing or even telling a chaotic long story of how her friend at school got busted for skipping class to go stalk a guy she liked. Kate loved the energy, and would engage in every single story like it was the most interesting thing she ever heard.

I showed her all the pictures I took on set, and even the ones the agents said no to. She was cussing them by the third picture.

“Who in their right mind would say no to this piece of art?” She showed the screen to Kate, asking for supportive words.

“That’s what I’ve been saying” Kate pointed out, agreeing with her completely.

And I just laughed. She didn’t know about all the drama, all the sharp emails I got from Franklin or Sue late at night, thanking me for the photos, but some of them couldn’t pass as “good for PP’s image”.

Pedro always made sure to let me know he had nothing to do with that, but couldn’t stop them. I honestly didn’t care much. We knew it was going to be complicated, and we’re here for it. Staying together even when it gets messy.

By Mandy’s second week here, I was texting him more frequently. The weight of missing his presence was too strong to hold on to. He sent me pictures of costume fittings “So… this is like, top secret, but how good do I look on this new costume?”. Another afternoon and he sent a selfie with Jon Favreau, kissing the guy’s cheek with a description “since I don’t have you here… This will do.” And I laughed so hard, Mandy had to come and see what was happening.

By the fourth day of texting every five minutes, he sent me the video.

I was still lazy scrolling on bed before getting up to start the day. My eyes were still adjusting to the light of my screen. There was no caption, no follow-up text, just his face filling up the screen before he turned the camera to show what he had next to him.

From the second 12 forward I couldn’t stop smiling.

Grogu was sitting on a crate. Pedro waved first and then, the little green animatronic tilted its head and made a small sound.

Pedro’s voice came from behind the camera, warm and amused. “Hey Mandy,” he said, “someone told me you’re a fan. So I got you a personal greeting from the kid himself.”

He moved the puppet’s arms a little, then made the softest cooing sound again. Just the cutest thing I’ve seen.

“I’m coming back soon,” he added. “Save me some of that breakfast art you made for your sister.”

I had to bite my lip from smiling too hard.

“Mandy!” I yelled from my room. “You’re gonna want to see this!”

She came running, probably from the kitchen, still in my hoodie, hair a mess, blinking against the light when I handed her my phone. Kate peeked out from the door, toothbrush in her mouth.

Thirty seconds later, Mandy was gasping. “No. No. You’re kidding.”

Kate leaned over her shoulder. “Wait. Is that the real—?”

“Actual Grogu,” I said.

My sister played the video at least three more times, then held the phone to her chest like it was sacred. “Tell him I love him. Like, in a ‘thanks for this blessed gift’ kind of way, not in a creepy way. But also tell him I cried. Like, from joy.”

I nodded. “I think he’ll get it.”

That whole second week moved in soft, snowy motions. Mandy calmed down after trying to ice-skate and failed miserably, resulting in a full-on bruise on her left thigh. “Not doing that again.” She said, trying to get up from the ice.

We watched Christmas movies — Kate insisted on a Love Actually rewatch, while Mandy demanded The Holiday and then Die Hard, “because it counts, and I won’t hear otherwise.” We took cheesy pictures in the snow, walked through holiday markets, and drank cheap mulled wine from paper cups — Even the sixteen-year-old had a couple of sips, because I am that kind of sister.

And even though Pedro wasn’t there, he was. In the little updates he sent. The memes that popped up on our instagram chat. His photos from set, and mine from everyday stuff. Notes telling me how much he missed me.

One afternoon, I went down the reception of our building to grab our mail and there was a box with Mandy’s name on it, from Los Angeles and signed by Din. Of course it was.

I didn’t open, it wasn’t mine. I just brought it up, gave it to her and admired how happy she was. There was a pair of Mandalorian socks and a signed crew jacket he said she’d love.

“She’s going to marry him before you do,” Kate whispered.

“I heard that!” Mandy shouted from the other room.

December 22nd came. And with it, the restlessness.

Pedro’s flight was either late that night or early the next morning — depending on how things went in LA, and I tried not to check my phone every ten minutes.

I failed miserably.

We were watching Home Alone under the living room blanket fort Kate had helped Mandy build when the little punk caught me checking my phone for a message from him again.

“He’s coming tonight?”

“Should be,” I said, eyes still on the screen.

“You want to pretend you haven’t been checking your phone like a maniac?”

I shot her a look. “You want to pretend you didn’t cry when he made Grogu wave at you?”

Kate cackled beside her, and Mandy just flipped me off.

“You nervous?” she asked more quietly.

“Yes,” I said. “But not in a bad way. I just… I miss him. I’m used to him being here, around us, just whispering dumb jokes to make me laugh in the middle of a set-up. Grabbing my camera bag when he thinks it looks too heavy. Just the small and quiet moments. I didn’t think it was going to feel like this.”

Mandy curled her legs up, warm beside me. “You’re in it.”

“I know.”

My phone buzzed.

I grabbed it so fast I nearly dropped it.

Just landed. Be home soon. Miss you. Pedro P. - 20:05

I stared at the screen.

Mandy looked like she was watching a movie’s emotional climax. She was excited to meet him finally, and nervous in the best way. Kate was having fun with all of it, and I just wanted to hug and kiss him like I’ve been wanting to since he first left.

How was this flight so goddamn long? I remember arriving from Los Angeles a few months back, and it was the easiest thing to go through. Now it feels like I might explode before the wheels even touch the snowy ground of Calgary again.

I was running on no sleep, and just watching the sun shift, vanishing against the clouds. Checked my phone at least twenty times in a span of only three hours. There was no way in hell the airplane in the little screen was moving at all.

It wasn’t even the set I missed. Or the city, or even the friends I made here… It was her. Every single thing about that photographer and the way her eyes lit up whenever she saw me. The way she says my name when is just us together. And the way she keeps stealing pieces of my life to hers — My favorite hoodie, or the t-shirt I used to wear around set, or even my shampoo that had disappeared mysteriously.

In the days apart, I even missed the silence between us. The kind of silence where words weren’t needed. Silence so comfortable I could stay in it forever if she let me.

Lately she didn’t need to speak much at all. I knew it all. Whenever she curled herself around my body — It was a sign for me to hold her tight against me. Or whenever she held the kiss just a little longer — My sign to go for a second or a third kiss.

God, I miss her. And the wait was almost over.

Customs was fine. A little longer. The line for non-residents stretching just enough to make me uncomfortable with the stares people give me. The city was too cold the moment I stepped outside. My scarf was buried somewhere in the bottom of my carry-on and I wasn’t about to stop for it. I climbed into the first cab I could find and gave her address before the driver even asked.

Was it a little reckless? Maybe, but I couldn’t bare to go straight to my place without seeing her first. And I knew she was waiting for me.

I watched the city blur past the window as we drove, half-listening to the snow whisper against the glass. The cab was too warm and the heater whistled like it was struggling just to do the basic.

I unlocked my phone just as another three messages come through from her.

We're watching a movie in the living room. She’s obsessed with the blanket fort Kate helped her build. Cariño - 20:38

You don’t have to come tonight, if you’re tired. Cariño - 20:38

But if you do… knock softly. Cariño - 20:39

God, I love her.

I texted back with one hand.

I’m five minutes away. Pedro - 20:39

Five minutes felt like a lifetime now.

I’d seen the photos and videos she sent while I was gone — her and her sister wrapped up in blankets, mugs of tea or cocoa, snow painting the windows behind them. Mandy looked like her, the same smile and spark, just brighter and younger. Full of opinions, full of noise, and full of so much love.

It made me happy, and relieved to see her with family again, especially when she’d been so withdrawn in the fall. She needed this. She needed someone who made her laugh until she forgot what was weighing her down. And Kate was in the mix now too, the arguments from the last two months a little forgotten. They were still perfect for each other.

And I’d never admit it out loud, but seeing her glow like that? Seeing that light again, even through a damn phone screen?

It made the two weeks I was away, without her, so damn worth it.

The driver turned the corner onto her street. I leaned forward, recognizing the building before we even stopped. My hands were already on the handle before we pulled in fully. It was so fast, and easy… I grabbed my bag, tipped the driver, and stepped out into the sharp, biting cold. The building looked the same as I remembered — tall, and a mix of vintage with modern architecture.

I stood outside for a moment. Just looking up. This was important, because I was about to meet another piece of her, in flesh. I’ve talked to Mandy before, but to have her here, it made me nervous without noticing.

I climbed the stairs slowly, even though every part of me wanted to run. Laughter echoed somewhere — muffled behind a wall or a door — but it barely registered. I was hyperfocused. Like walking into a dream I’d been having for the past week.

Once I was in front of her door, my heart started to race against my chest. I raised my hand and knocked gently — just like she’d asked me to. Not even a second later, I heard quick footsteps on the other side. Then the soft click of the lock.

My eyes were filled with her image, and damn… My mind didn’t do her justice. That smile was something out of this world, I swear it took me a moment to fully take a breath. Her hair was slightly messy from a lazy night in. A hoodie too big for her, the sleeves swallowed by her hands a little, and that was one of my favorites that she took the last time she was at my place. Her eyes found mine, sparkling a little. Warm and so inviting. I could tell she hadn’t fully believed I’d show up tonight.

She didn’t say anything and I didn’t wait. The second I could breathe again, I stepped in and found her waist pulling her into my body and crashing my mouth to hers.

Messy kisses full of unspoken words were my favorites. Her fingers caught the lapels of my coat, tugging me in like gravity, like maybe letting go wasn’t an option anymore. She made a sound low in her throat, involuntary and needy, and I swallowed it with my mouth.

Nothing else existed, not the room, not even the stretch of time we’d spent pretending this would get easier.

My hands travelled down from her waist, and then—

“Oh, wow, okay,” Kate’s voice cut through, with a tone halfway between a smirk and a warning. “You two wanna maybe dial it down? Keep it PG friendly? We have a guest.”

I blinked. Pulled back just enough to see behind her.

Kate was sitting on the couch with a half-empty bowl of popcorn. She was grinning like she knew exactly what we’d been up to lately — and Mandy was next to her. Cross-legged, wide-eyed, half-laughing and half trying to hide the way her face was red from seeing her sister with me.

“Oh,” I breathed, suddenly aware I hadn’t even stepped inside properly.

She looked over her shoulder and laughed, hiding her face in my coat for a second like she could reverse time and start over. I kissed the top of her head instead and followed her in.

“Mandy,” she said, turning back toward her sister. “This is Pedro.”

Mandy stood up quickly, all awkward limbs and an instant confidence that wasn’t there before. She stuck her hand out but ended up pulling me into a hug instead. Like she wasn’t even thinking about it.

“You guys are perfect for each other, and she’s so gone for you, like, so fucking gone.”

My girl covered her warm face, laughing. “Oh my God, Mandy—”

“I’m just saying,” Mandy started, sitting back down with a grin, “I saw him in every part of this apartment. You guys are basically staring a rom-com.”

I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck, roughly aware that I was blushing with her words. “Nice to meet you too.”

“You brought me stuff,” she added, like she was trying to change the subject and be thankful all at once. “That little necklace? And that signed jacket from the show? I cried. Legit.”

I felt my girl reached for my hand without even looking. Her thumb rubbed over my knuckles like a reflex. She was happy to see her sister so excited.

“I thought you’d like that,” I said, sitting down with her by my side. “Jon was excited when I told him who it was for.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “That’s some fancy stuff, could easily sell it for good money on ebay.”

“Never in a million years” Mandy said slowly and I felt my girl laughing

“She’s my little Star Wars nerd,” She said proudly.

“Not little, I’m a massive one,” Mandy added, grabbing a pillow to hug against her chest. “I’m still not over that Grogu video. I showed it to like four people already. Pedro, you have no idea—”

“I have some idea,” I said with a smile. “Your sister showed me your hoodie collection.”

She groaned. “I told you that in confidence!”

Kate snorted.

The room felt like home. The kind that came with laughter you didn’t have to force, and warmth you didn’t have to earn. The lights were low, the fort still stood in the corner with twinkle lights wrapped around it, and the TV had paused on some animated movie I hadn’t seen in years.

I’d only been gone a week. But walking into this, and to be a part of it like I was a missing piece of the puzzle, it felt so damn right. I was focused on the feeling of missing her, that only now I let myself be a part of it like I belonged.

I felt her body lean into me again. My arm found her waist without even thinking about it. She was warm and her smell was everywhere.

“Welcome back,” she whispered, only loud enough for me.

I turned my head, pressed a kiss just under her jaw, and whispered back, “It’s good to be back.”

After a while they all voted on Five Guys, which really meant me complaining about being hungry, and offering the fastest and the most delicious solution. Kate and Mandy jumped right on immediately. Mandy lit up when she heard I was paying for the milkshakes.

“Don’t tip too much,” I heard her saying to Kate as they walked down the hallway, leaving me and Mandy by ourselves. “Last time you tipped more than the food cost—”

“Support your workers!” Kate yelled back before the door clicked shut behind them.

Silence.

It settled weirdly after how loud and chaotic everything had been just seconds before.

Mandy was still curled up on the couch, legs pulled to her chest, flipping through something on her phone, but I could feel her watching me. She was curious, I could tell there was a lot going through her mind. And it’s weird how far she’d come since we first talked.

Back then she hardly said a word to me without shaking like she was speaking to a god. We’ve only spoken the basic. Even when I asked her to deliver my gift to her sister back on her thirtieth birthday.

I sat back against the cushions. Relaxed, mostly. Until Mandy spoke so softly I could barely make up what she was saying.

“You really like her, huh?”

I looked over.

She didn’t look smug. Just… like she already knew the answer and wanted to hear me say it anyway.

“I do,” I said with a shy smile.

She nodded. “She’s different lately.”

“Good different?”

“The best kind.” She gave a small shrug. “She’s always been kind of—” Mandy paused just enough to organize what she was about to say “Tense. Like she’s always holding her breath a little. You know? Even before all the shit with our dad or my brother. It’s just how she is. But now—”

She stopped again, furrowed her brow.

“She’s softer,” she said. “Like she forgets to be mad at the world sometimes. Or she just… forgets to be on guard all the time. It’s weird.”

“Weird good?”

She looked at me for a second longer, and the grin came with a nod.

“Yeah. Weird good.”

I smiled. “She’s been that way with me since the first day. I don’t know why. I didn’t do anything to earn it.”

“Exactly,” Mandy said, waving a hand. “You didn’t try. I think that’s what did it.”

I let that settle.

She knew her sister so well. It’s almost scary how much. The description Mandy just gave on how her sister worked around, the walls she had when we first met... Not the kind of walls people put up on purpose. This was different, the kind that grow with need, like survival. And yet, somehow, with me, she’d let them fall. Just little pieces, like she was testing if I’d notice whenever there was a shift. And I did, of course I did.

“I like you,” Mandy added, the type of confession of a person who wasn’t sure she was going to say it until the words were already out. “I mean, you’re older and famous and whatever, so I should probably be skeptical, right?”

I raised a brow. “Were you? skeptical?”

“Not really,” she smirked. “But I thought about it for like… five seconds.”

I laughed at that. The girl was funny without even trying.

Then she leaned forward a little, more serious now.

“But then I saw how she talks about you. Even when she’s not talking about you.”

I tilted my head trying to read in between the lines. “What does that mean?”

“She’s happy. That’s what it means.”

Simple as that, she’s happy. Even with all the drama with her father, even with her twin almost giving up, and leaving her no choice but to pick up the pieces and try again until it worked. Even with the job that was so consuming, and tiring… Even with all the bad things around—she was happy.

“She deserves happy,” I said.

“Yeah,” Mandy said. “And you make her feel safe. Which I think she didn’t even realize she needed.”

We didn’t say anything after that for a while. Just let it sit between us. The truth of two people that loved one girl so much, they’d do anything to make her happy every single day. The sisterly bond was so strong with them, it made my chest ache in a good way.

The elevator dinged out in the hallway a few minutes later, and I heard that laugh — unmistakable and bright — followed by Kate’s dramatic monologue about milkshake flavors.

Mandy stood up and walked to the door before I could. But before she could open it, I felt a shift in her, protective as hell and ready to tell me off if I say something wrong.

“Don’t mess it up,” she said, smirking.

I put a hand to my chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” She grinned. “Because I really like that hoodie she stole from you, and I want her to keep it.”

The lock turned, and the door opened with a tud. She stepped inside first, her cheeks pink from the cold, balancing two bags with one hand. “Okay, fries are on the verge of getting soggy, and Kate is still mad I said no to the Cajun ones—”

She stopped, eyes landing on me. That same look she always had on her when she didn’t believe I chose her. Even when I told her that the lucky one in this relationship was me, to be chosen by her when she could have any other guy her age.

I got up, smiled back, already reaching for the bags, and she let me.

Somewhere behind us, Mandy tossed me a wink and headed toward the fridge for ketchup.

We were in this, it was messy but it is ours. And to share this special connection we have with her loved ones, that’s the real deal for me.

I was so goddamn lucky, it was hard to believe.

#pedro pascal #the last of us #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #production #rpf #ellie tlou

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eroticallywritten · 16 hours ago

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Pedro Pascal posing at the UK Photocall of Marvel Studios' "The Fantastic Four: First Steps" at the Corinthia Hotel on July 11, 2025 in London.

#pedro pascal #pedropascal #the fantastic four: first steps #the fantastic four tour #reed richards #people: pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedrito #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal news #pedro pascal photos

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mysterious-musings · 15 hours ago

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Ugh, he's so pretty. 😭

Sick.

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal pictures

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missyorkswhore · 8 months ago

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Pedro is a slut

#pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedropascaledit #pascalispunk #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fandom

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xbeababyx · 3 days ago

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He’s breathtaking.

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lonely-ey3s · 3 days ago

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With All My Love : Epilogue

Pairings: joel miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

Word count: 8.5k

Chapter Summary: The newest addition is more than you or Joel could ever imagine.

Chapter warnings: FLUFF, joel being an absolute lover, soft!joel, mentions of pregnancy/labor, anxiety, use of Spanish but with translations, use of y/n.

a/n: the final chapter is finally here.

to all of my readers,

thank you for your patience. i genuinely thank you for all the love, comments, support & shares this story got. it helped me become a better writer, it gave me a passion and it gave me a place to escape 🤍

i am planning on occasionally visiting these two for small moments, even filling in gaps that we won't see in this chapter ;) again thank you so much!!

with all my love,

riann

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist

Reader’s POV

June 16th

It started with a pop.

Not loud, but unmistakable, like a tiny rubber band snapping somewhere deep inside. You blinked awake slowly, disoriented at first by the dark room, the ceiling fan spinning quietly overhead, and the low snore of your husband, who'd worked a long day out in the sun, rumbling beside you.

Then came the warmth. A slow trickle — and then a lot of warmth.

Your heart skipped. A beat. Maybe two.

You stared up at the ceiling for a second, almost convinced it was a dream. But it wasn’t. You’d fallen asleep curled on your side with one of Joel’s arms slung around your waist, the weight of it comforting, anchoring. And now — at just past three in the morning — you were soaked and breathless, hands trembling faintly as realization sank in.

“Joel,” you whispered, nudging his chest softly. “Honey? Joel? Wake up...”

Nothing. Just another snore and a deeper inhale.

You pressed your palm against him and gave him a firmer push, calling his name a little louder, “Joel.”

He stirred, groaning low in his throat. “Huh? Mmm — what’s wrong?”

“Uhm, so my water just broke...” you said a little too casually, trying not to let him hear the slight panic in your voice.

There was a pause. A long, quiet pause. Then:

“What?” He bolted upright, blinking hard, hair wild, eyes suddenly wide and full of sleep-scared panic. “Wait—like now? It broke now?” He looked down at you, then peeked under the sheets.

You nodded, heart pounding but voice steady. “Yeah. It’s happening.”

For a moment he just stared at you, mouth open, hands on his knees. Then the chaos began.

“Oh my god—okay. Alright. What did the baby yoga lady say?” he muttered, throwing the comforter back and practically leaping out of bed.

"Baby yoga lady? You mean, Zephyra?” He looked at him with an amused smile, cracking up at the nickname he'd deemed for her.

“Jesus. That’s not a name, honey, that’s a weather pattern,” He waved a hand, dismissing it entirely. “I’m not callin’ her that. She’s baby yoga lady from now on.” He muttered as he mentally went over a list in his head.

You chuckled at his obvious distaste for her name.

“Bag. We need the bag. And snacks. She said you might get hungry, and I don’t wanna be that husband who forgets the snacks.” He rambled.

You watched as he stumbled over a pair of discarded jeans on the floor, cursed under his breath, and flung open the closet like it might contain a manual for this exact moment.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled to himself. “Comfy clothes. Slippers. Charger for your phone. My phone. Shit— where's my phone?”

He turned and scrambled back around the poorly lit room looking for his phone. He grabbed it off the dresser and muttered more to himself, “Necesito llamar a Tommy. ¡Mierda! Y necesito avisarle a mi mamá para que nos vea en el hospital…” (Need to call Tommy. Shit! And need to let my mom know to meet us at the hospital…)

You could hear him already dialing before you could reach over for your phone to call Maria.

He stopped by Sarah’s door and knocked quickly, calling through it, “Hey baby girl... Tommy and Maria are comin’ over in like ten minutes to stay with you, alright? Mom and I are goin’ to the hospital!”

There was a sleepy rustling from inside her room before a sleepy reply, “I— what time is it? Is everything okay?”

Joel didn’t even pause. “Everything’s fine! Baby’s just decided to be the only Miller that insists on makin' an entrance! Go back to sleep—we’ll text you updates!”

He ran back toward the bedroom, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. “Tommy? Hey, I need you to come over. Now. Water broke. No, not mine—hers, smartass. Just get over here!”

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled in your chest.

From your side of the bed, you sat up slowly, brushing damp hair back from your forehead, wincing through another slow tightening in your belly. Contractions started but were still manageable, pressure rolling in like soft waves, not quite crashing — but getting there.

Joel dashed into the room with your hospital bag in hand, followed by a hoodie that definitely wasn’t yours but would do, and a pair of mismatched socks.

“Okay, so—hospital bag, check. You’re gonna want a pillow, right? Should I bring the one you sleep with or the one from the couch you like? Shit, which one’s softer?” He stared at the pile of things like they were somehow going to answer him.

“Joel.”

He didn’t hear you. He was halfway across the room again, grabbing your water bottle, muttering something about electrolytes.

“Joel.”

He turned, finally, eyes still wide, chest rising and falling quickly. You held out your hand.

And just like that—he stopped. He crossed the room in two quick steps and took your hand gently, the wild panic quieting the second your fingers closed around his.

You gave him a soft smile. “We’re okay.”

His shoulders dropped slightly, a breath escaping him. “Yeah?”

You nodded, tugging him just a little closer, reaching out to touch his cheek. “I’ve got you. You’ve got me. We’re okay.”

He sank to the edge of the bed, his other hand joining yours on his cheek, thumb brushing over your wrist. He looked at you like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—or do both. “You’re really calm… How are you this calm?”

“I have to be. You’re doing enough panicking for both of us.” You smiled, then squeezed his hand. “Besides, I’ve had a pretty incredible last few months. Baby picked a good time to make their surprise appearance.”

His brows furrowed, gaze still pinned to yours, and you could see the flicker of worry there—but behind it, love. So much love it made your throat ache.

You looked down at your belly, cradling it with your hand that was on his cheek. “Photography’s taken off. Booked solid through the fall. Sarah’s been glowing lately, asking me to help her shop for a birthday outfit. Work is slowing down for you now that Tommy’s taken over a few projects in preparation for the little one. You and I got through all the nursery prep without killing each other. I feel… happy, Joel. I'm so ready for this.” You met his eyes again. “Even if the baby’s a little early… I think they’re ready, too.”

He smiled, that crooked, awe-struck grin that never failed to melt your heart. He leaned forward, pressed his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So damn much.”

“I love you,” you breathed back, eyes fluttering closed as the world held still for just a second longer.

Then a stronger contraction made you wince.

Joel jumped to his feet again. “Right—hospital. Baby comin'. Now.”

You laughed. “Yes. Now.”

The hospital was twenty minutes away.

Was being the key word here.

You were halfway there when the red taillights lit up like a damn Christmas tree in front of you.

Joel muttered something under his breath and tapped the brake. Then tapped again. Then slammed both palms against the wheel. “No, no, no. Don’t do this to me, not now—”

You sat upright as best you could, heart pounding. “What’s going on?”

“Traffic... accident, I think. Fuckin’ hell.” His eyes scanned the rearview mirror, jaw tightening. “Of course there’s a goddamn wreck at three-thirty in the mornin' while my wife is in labor, on the only road that gets us there.”

He inched the truck forward a few feet, then stopped. More brake lights. A tow truck in the shoulder, police lights flashing. No movement from the cars in front of you however.

You breathed through the rising pressure in your abdomen, slower now, deeper. The contractions were still spaced out, but they were getting stronger — more solid in your back, like something was winding a cord tighter with each wave.

Joel was gripping the wheel like it had wronged him personally. “Okay. Alright. This is fine. It’s fine. We’re still moving. Slow—but we’re moving...”

You didn’t say anything, just reached out and rested a hand on his thigh to give him some support as you knew he was doing his best. He looked at you, then down at your hand, and his mouth twitched in a smile that was mostly nerves.

Then he whispered, almost to himself, “I mean, worst-case… we pull over and I deliver the baby myself, right?”

You turned your head sharply, eyebrows raised.

He nodded, eyes wide. “I can do it. I read that blog article. Watched that video too. The traumatizing one they made us all watch in Lamaze class? Plus, the baby yoga lady said we could do it in a pinch.

You chuckled through another contraction, "Honey, it's Zeph—"

"Mi amor, it's baby yoga lady, remember? But like I was saying, I technically know how to birth a baby. Right? Right?”

He turned to you, eyes wide, absolutely sincere.

You stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.

Like, full-on, breathless, belly-laughing. The kind that echoed in the cab of the truck and made your eyes water. Joel stared at you like you’d lost your mind for a second, then slowly started to laugh too, hand briefly dragging down his face.

“Oh my god,” you wheezed. “Baby, you’re gonna traumatize yourself more than you need to at his rate.”

He chuckled, though his eyes still flicked nervously between the road and your belly. “I’m not even kidding. I’d do it. I mean, I’d be sweating bullets and maybe pass out after, but I’d get you through it. I swear to God.”

“Joel, I love you, and I am on team ‘get this baby out’ as much as you are — but if you think you’re delivering this baby on the side of the 290 in a panic-sweat... I’m walking to the hospital.”

That earned a laugh, full and real, even as he leaned forward and squinted at the backup ahead. “We’re gonna make it. Just need these bastards to clear the way for us…”

Just then, another contraction hit. This one deeper. Hotter. You winced and gripped the side handle above the window, turning slightly in your seat. “Oh, ow ow ow…”

Joel’s head whipped toward you. “Hey—hey, it’s okay, I got you. Breathe. Just like they taught us, remember?”

You nodded through clenched teeth.

“In… two, three, four,” he said, holding out his hand, steady and open. “Out… two, three, four. You’re doin’ so good. You’re so strong.”

You squeezed his hand as the wave peaked, your whole body tightening with it.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured. “You hear me? You’re bringin’ our baby into the world, and you’re doing it in the middle of the damn night. I’ve never been prouder of anyone. Ever. You’re so beautiful. You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”

You cracked one eye open. “You’re only saying that because I’m literally glowing with sweat and pain.”

He grinned, though his voice cracked slightly when he answered, “You’re sayin’ that like it’s not still true.”

The contraction slowly passed. You breathed, slower this time, sinking back against the seat.

Joel leaned over and brushed your damp hair back, kissing your temple.

Traffic began to inch forward again.

Neither of you said anything for a minute, just breathed together, the lull between waves stretching out like a quiet tide. You kept your hand in his. And despite everything—the early arrival, the chaos, the aching pressure in your lower spine—there was peace in that silence.

“Let’s just… make it to the hospital, yeah?” you whispered.

Joel smiled and pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “Deal. No roadside deliveries. I promise.”

By the time the hospital came into view, your contractions were clocking in every six minutes and were officially earning their place on your personal list of most painful experiences, more so than being shot.

Joel didn’t so much park the truck as launch it into the loop of the entrance and throw it into park before rushing around to your side.

His door barely clicked shut before he was there, opening yours and offering both arms like he expected you to collapse into them.

“I’ve got you,” he said again, voice full of nervous breath. “Just lean on me, baby. Let me help—wait. No. You’re not walkin’. You just had a contraction two minutes ago.”

“Joel, I'm fi—”

“I’m getting a wheelchair.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the urgency in his voice. "Honey..."

“I am not lettin’ you tire yourself out before we even get checked in.” He kissed your forehead, then jogged inside like he was running toward a house fire.

You waited, leaning against the open door, breathing through another tight squeeze in your lower back. A few moments later, Joel emerged from the sliding doors with a wheelchair, along with a nurse trailing behind him, shaking her head fondly at his ramblings.

“Alright, here we go.” He guided the chair to you with care, crouching slightly to help you sit. “You comfortable? Want a pillow? Blanket? Something to put behind your back?”

The nurse behind him — middle-aged, gray roots peeking through red hair, reading glasses perched halfway down her nose, chimed in, “First kid jitters?”

You chuckled, even as you winced adjusting into the seat. “Our first. Honestly, I’m shocked he hasn’t tried to call in a helicopter.” You teased as you looked up at him.

Joel straightened up with an offended hand to his chest. “Hey now. I’m just tryin’ to do this right.”

The nurse grinned at you both. “Sweetheart, if I had a dollar for every first-time dad who blew through those doors like a tornado… I'd be a rich woman.” She looked Joel up and down. “You’ve got the eyes of one who watched all the prep videos and brought his own snacks.”

“I did bring the snacks,” Joel muttered under his breath, clearly not sure if he was being mocked or praised as he rolled you inside.

You smiled and reached for his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “He’s been amazing. Even if he did panic-read that baby blog like it was scripture... He's all I could ever ask for."

Joel rubbed the back of his neck but couldn’t help the shy grin that bloomed on his face.

The nurse waved you both toward the check-in desk. “Alright, Mr. and Mrs.…?”

“Miller,” Joel answered quickly, stepping beside you and holding your hand like a lifeline. “Joel and Y/N Miller.”

“Lovely,” she said as she began typing. “And what brings us in tonight? Is it time to meet the little one?” She winked.

Joel blinked. “Water broke about forty-five minutes ago. Contractions are around five, six minutes apart now.”

She gave you a knowing smile. “Sounds like it’s baby time.”

Joel looked down at you, his hand gripping yours just a little tighter.

“Alright,” the nurse said, printing something out. “You’re in the system. Head straight to Labor & Delivery—third floor, elevator down the hall to your right. We’ll call ahead so they know you’re coming. And Dad…” She gave Joel a wink. “Keep breathing. You’re doing great.”

Joel let out a nervous laugh, clearly trying to absorb the kindness beneath the teasing. He leaned down and kissed your temple. “Alright. Ready, mi vida?”

You nodded, settling back in the chair as he guided it toward the elevators with both hands, still watching you like you might disappear if he blinked.

The ride up was quiet, intimate, the two of you holding hands as your next contraction rolled in—stronger, slower, heavier. Joel was right there, whispering your breath counts, thumb brushing the back of your hand, reminding you how strong you were with every steady beat of his voice.

By the time the elevator doors opened to the maternity floor, the world had shrunk down to just you, him, and the steady rhythm of your body preparing for something impossibly big.

Two hours had passed since they brought you into the delivery room, and time had started to lose its shape.

The world narrowed into waves—contractions that hit deeper and heavier each time, pulling from your spine like a string being twisted too tight. You’d tried changing positions, using the peanut ball, swaying in the bed, breathing through it all like the nurse coached you, but it was becoming too much to lie down.

Joel hadn’t left your side once, not for a moment. He’d helped you breathe through every single contraction, rubbing your lower back with firm, steady hands. Whispering encouragement into your hair. He’d fan your face with a folder one of the nurses left behind when the room got too hot. And when your water broke again mid-contraction — the “bonus break”, the nurse had joked — he didn’t even flinch. He just helped change out the sheets and helped you change into a fresh gown like it was nothing.

You would never guess this was his first time being in the delivery room. Sarah’s mom missed out big time. He was every woman’s dream in this situation.

Another contraction started fading, leaving your body limp and trembling in its wake. You laid your head back against the pillow and sighed, body and mind bordering on exhaustion.

“I need to move,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “God — I feel like I’m being crushed just lying here.”

Joel was up in an instant. “Okay. Whatever you want, baby. We’ll move.”

He helped you out of the bed slowly, wrapping an arm around your back as you pulled yourself upright. You gripped his bicep with one hand and cradled your belly with the other, it felt so heavy now.

The monitor wires tugged gently from where they clipped to your gown, but a nurse had already helped wrap them up and give you slack for walking.

Joel’s arm stayed tight around your waist as you took a few careful steps.

“You good?” he asked, his breath against your temple. “Want to walk a few laps? Want me behind you?”

“Behind. Please,” you murmured, shifting your weight into him.

He moved behind you gently, one hand bracing your hips, the other sliding around to support the underside of your belly as you shuffled forward in hospital socks. “There you go. Just lean on me, sweetheart.”

You exhaled through a wince. “Oh, thank you. Mmm, you make a very good human belly sling.”

He chuckled low in your ear. “That’s what every man wants to hear from his wife in a hospital gown.”

As the two of you paced slowly toward the far side of the room, Joel dipped his head a little closer and spoke quietly. “You remember what we said about the mobile above the crib?”

You nodded faintly, focusing on the rise and fall of your steps. “You said it was crooked.”

“Mmm, close... I said it adds character,” he corrected, grinning. “But I was thinkin’… what if we hang a little Texas flag next to it? You know... start indoctrinating the little one early.”

You snorted, then paused as a contraction started to roll in—sharper, faster.

Joel felt the shift instantly. His arms steadied you as you leaned toward the wall, pressing both palms flat against it, head bowed between your arms.

“Alright, baby. Breathe with me. In… two, three, four…”

You closed your eyes and counted with him, trying to ride the wave instead of bracing against it. It crested hard, clenching your body tight from belly to thighs.

Joel’s voice stayed close to your ear. “You’re doin’ so good. So fuckin’ strong. Just like that, sweetheart. Breathe. Let it pass...”

You trembled, the tension breaking over you like a storm cloud—and slowly, finally, it faded.

You sagged back against him, panting softly. His arms held you upright without hesitation.

“I hate everything,” you muttered, lightly panting.

“I know, baby. You’re allowed to.”

A beat passed. Then Joel said, lightly as you went back to slowly walking, “So… we still not sold on naming the baby after Willie Nelson?”

You huffed out a laugh, breathless. “Not a chance.”

He smiled, “Alright. That’s okay. I also had Waylon in the barrel. Or Hank. Oh! What about Dolly?”

“Dolly?”

“Well, if it’s a girl. Come on, she’s a legend!” he chuckled close to your ear softly.

You turned your head just enough to shoot him a look.

Joel gave you a crooked grin, thumb rubbing gentle circles against your side. “What? You don’t want our daughter to enter kindergarten already owning rhinestone boots and a dream?”

Despite the pain, you smiled through gritted teeth as another contraction began to build in the background. “I swear to God, if you start suggesting Merle or Elvis...”

He chuckled, low and warm. “You say that, but you’re smilin’...”

You were. Even through the pain, the pressure, the sweat — he made you laugh. And it meant everything.

“Keep talking, cowboy,” you whispered as another wave rose. “Please.”

Joel pressed a kiss to your shoulder and kept right on going. “Okay. Okay, let’s see. What about something real classy, like—Bob. Bob Miller. Or—wait—Doug. You ever met a baby named Doug?”

Your laugh cracked into a groan as the contraction hit hard, and he shifted his grip immediately, bracing you again. “That’s it. I’ve got you, baby. Breathe with me. Just a little longer…”

You nodded and groaned as it passed, putting your faith completely in him that it was just going to be a little longer, because you didn’t know how much more you could take.

An hour later, you didn’t realize you were crying until you tasted salt on your lips.

Somewhere between one contraction and the next, the pain crossed a line.

It started folding in on itself, sharp and relentless — twisting so deep in your hips and back that you couldn’t breathe through it anymore, let alone walk.

Joel felt it before you even said a word. He’d kept his arms around you the whole time, steady and quiet behind your shaking body — but now his voice was in your ear, concerned and soft that kept you somewhat grounded.

“Hey—hey. You alright? Talk to me, baby.”

You were leaning forward against the wall again, knees locked, body trembling. “I—I don’t know. Something feels… wrong. Something’s wrong, Joel.”

“Okay. Okay, it’s alright.” He shifted to the side so he could see your face. “Tell me what’s hurtin’. Is it pressure? Did it come back again?”

“No—it’s—” You broke off with a gasp as another contraction slammed into you without warning. You gripped the wall with both hands, body folding forward, sobbing through the shock of it. “Joel, I can’t—I can’t do this... fuck—”

“Yes, you can. You’re doin’ so good, baby.” His hand was at your back again, firm and warm. “But we’re gonna get the nurse. Right now, ok?”

He reached for the call button on the wall just outside the bathroom, hitting it hard with the side of his fist.

Within seconds, the door opened and your nurse—Kara—walked in with another beside her, both immediately reading all the monitors and machines.

“She’s hurtin’ real bad,” Joel said immediately, his voice low and urgent. “Says something feels off. She’s cryin’, shaking—I don’t think it’s just the contractions.”

You couldn’t even lift your head. All you could do was lean into him and gasp for air like you were trying to outrun the pain crawling down your spine.

“I’ve got her,” Kara said gently, moving quickly to your other side. “Let’s get her back in bed and check how we’re doing. I think we’re getting close...”

Joel wrapped his arms beneath your armpits and guided you back toward the bed as Kara rolled the IV line out of the way. The other nurse adjusted your pillows and gently removed the monitor cords from where they’d wrapped around your middle.

“Almost there, mama,” Kara murmured. “Big breath in. That’s it, deep as you can…”

Your legs buckled slightly when the contraction finally released. Joel caught you before you could fully collapse and helped ease you back onto the bed, one hand guiding your hip, the other brushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to your neck.

You were still crying as you looked over at him, “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, voice cracked and hoarse. “It’s too much.”

Joel crouched beside the bed and cupped your face in both hands, eyes fierce with love and fear and total, immovable devotion.

“Hey. Look at me.”

You did, barely able to focus on anything but the pain.

“You can do this,” he said, thumb brushing the tears from your cheek. “You’re already doin’ it. And I swear to you—you’re not alone. I’m right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I won’t let anything happen to you. Or our baby.”

Your lip trembled. “But what if something goes wrong?”

“It won’t. You hear me? Everything will be ok...”

You nodded, trying to breathe around the fear now pressing against your ribs.

The nurse reached between your legs as another contraction began to build, watching the monitor. “She’s almost at ten centimeters dilated. You’ve got maybe another contraction or two before we start pushing. That pressure you’re feeling? That’s your baby making their way down. You’re doing amazing, Mama. Let’s keep going, alright?”

You closed your eyes, nodding weakly.

Joel stood, pressed a kiss to your forehead, then leaned over so his lips were right at your ear.

“I love you, so much…” he whispered. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

Another contraction surged, this one lower and heavier—like your whole body was opening from the inside out. You cried out, grabbing Joel’s hand and squeezing it hard enough to shake.

“Focus on me, you've got this...” he whispered again. “You’re so close now. Just a little more, baby. Just a little more.”

The nurses moved into place. You could hear the sounds of the delivery tray being unwrapped.

A new doctor stepped into the room, he reeked of years of experience and ‘bringing babies into the world’ type of joy, “I hear we have a baby comin’? Let’s get this bundle of joy delivered, shall we?”

You couldn’t even register what he said, you just looked at Joel and kept your gaze on him, breathing deeply — focusing on anything but the deep pain pulling down on your belly.

He just smiled and nodded, responding for both of you, holding your hand, eyes locked on yours like he was holding your soul together with just his stare, “Let’s do this…”

“Okay, Mama,” the doctor said calmly, sitting down between your legs, “You’re at ten centimeters. We’re ready when you are.”

You nodded faintly, the rest of your body too spent to respond. Joel squeezed your hand once, twice, anchoring you to the surface of the world.

“Alright, let’s push with the next contraction,” the nurse instructed, bracing your leg for you. “We’ll count you through it.”

The pressure came fast and deep. You bore down, the pain white-hot and all-consuming.

“One… two… three…” she counted.

Joel was right beside you, hand in yours, whispering, “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Keep pushin'…”

“Eight… nine… ten. Okay, breathe,” she smiled, watching your progress below the linen sheet.

You collapsed back against the pillows, panting, trembling, your face soaked in sweat.

Before you knew it, another contraction, another push. Your body strained and your legs shook as the nurses held them up for you. And again. Every time it felt like maybe—maybe—this was the one.

After several contractions, you felt it — the baby wasn’t budging.

The doctor leaned forward, voice still calm but with a note of urgency. “Baby’s almost here. The head’s partially through, but they’re caught just a bit at the shoulders. We need a few more strong pushes, Mama. I know you’re tired, but we’re so close. I need one big push, okay?”

The words hit you like a freight train.

Caught. Shoulders. More pushing.

An ugly and broken sob broke loose from your chest. You shook your head, eyes welling with thick tears. “I can’t—I can’t do it. I’m so tired, Joel. I can’t—” You turned your head toward Joel.

Joel was crouched beside you instantly, cupping your face in both hands, bringing your eyes to his. His voice cracked, but his gaze didn’t waver. “Baby, listen to me. You can. You're so close. You’re so strong, honey — you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known."

He softly combed your hair back and kissed your forehead before continuing, "You’ve been through war and fuckin’ grenades and missiles and been shot and stabbed and survived all those year with that piece of shit, and now you’re going to deliver our baby. You’re so strong, my love — and I need you to believe that right now, because our baby is right there. And they’re just waitin’ on you to get them the rest of the way here. Come on, you've got this."

“I can’t do it. I can’t do it... I'm so tired. I can't do this alone,” you sobbed.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m gonna help. I’m gonna be right here.”

And then, without hesitation, he climbed behind you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame. He slipped his hands into yours and laced your fingers tightly. He leaned in and kissed your shoulder, then your temple, “Let’s have this baby, my love…”

“Alright,” the nurse said, looking at the monitor. “Next contraction’s coming. Let’s do this together.”

Joel’s breath was at your ear. “I’ve got you, baby. We’re gonna do this. Just focus on my voice, alright? In… two, three… push.”

You gritted your teeth and bore down. Your body shook with the effort.

He watched the doctor and nurses below you, seeing them nod with encouragement, “You’re doin’ so good. That’s it. That’s it, baby. Again—push!”

The burn was worse this time. Pressure so intense it made you cry out—but Joel didn’t let go. He let you grip his hands so tight that they turned white, his arms anchoring you as you pushed with everything you had left.

“Almost there,” the doctor called, looking up at you with a smile. “One more good one. Just one more, mama.”

Joel’s voice stayed in your ear, steady and fierce. “Last one, baby. Let’s meet our little one, c’mon. You got this. Estoy tan orgulloso de ti.” (I’m so proud of you)

The final contraction surged, and you pushed, your whole body curling forward as Joel held you steady. You screamed through it—sharp and guttural, it echoed off the walls of the room and down the hall.

And then — instant relief as the pressure broke.

A small cry pierced the air. Loud and strong.

You slumped back against Joel, sobbing. The room spun around you.

“Congratulations,” the nurse whispered. “It’s a boy!”

You blinked up, eyes wide and full of tears as they held him high—red and slippery and loud — so loud.

Joel made a sound you’d never heard from him before—a choked laugh that turned into a sob as he clutched you tighter.

“A boy,” you repeated, stunned. “We have a son.”

Joel kissed your temple over and over, his tears soaking your hair. “You did it. You did it, baby. He’s here. You brought our baby boy into the world. You did that... God, you're incredible."

They placed him gently on your chest, and the second his warm little body touched yours, the world just… stopped.

You looked down at the tiny face, eyes squeezed shut, fists trembling. His cry calmed a little as your hand came up to cradle his back.

He was perfect. He was everything. He was yours.

Joel reached forward with shaking fingers to brush one of the baby’s curls, his breath catching again. “Hey there, buddy,” he whispered. “God, you’re so beautiful…”

You looked up at him, tear-streaked, exhausted, undone. “We have a son.”

He looked back at you with a stunned, reverent smile, and whispered, “Eres todo para mí.” (You are everything to me) Then kissed your forehead before gently kissing your lips softly a couple of times — you both beaming with joy.

The world had gone quiet after some time.

The nurses had taken his vitals, wrapped him in a soft, cotton swaddle, and declared him perfectly healthy—seven pounds, ten ounces of pink, squirming life. You’d both watched with bleary awe as they gently weighed him, measured his head, and counted his perfect little toes.

Now, it was just the three of you.

The room was dim and warm, shadows stretching across the walls as the early morning crept in.

Joel had drawn the curtain closed, shut the door, and turned the world away. You were tucked into fresh sheets, propped up on pillows, skin clean but still flushed from labor. The little baby boy lay asleep in your arms, bundled and soft and impossibly small, his lips parted around the quietest of sighs.

Joel sat beside you on the bed, facing both of you with hands clasped and eyes full of something you didn’t have a word for.

You looked down at the little face curled against your chest, then up at him.

“You wanna hold him?” you asked softly.

Joel’s breath caught in his throat. “Yeah,” he whispered, nodding immediately. “Yeah, I do.”

You adjusted carefully, heart aching even at the thought of letting go, but you trusted Joel with every part of you — including keeping this little one safe.

He slid closer, bracing your elbow as you shifted the sleeping bundle toward him. His hands were steady, strong, but ever so gentle. When the babe settled into his arms, Joel just stared down at him and smiled — like the whole universe had landed in his lap.

“Hi there, baby boy,” he said again, voice barely more than a breath. “You’re even more perfect up close.”

He brushed a finger along the baby’s cheek and leaned down to kiss his forehead. The tiny body stirred, wriggled once, then resettled in the crook of Joel’s arm like he knew exactly where he belonged.

You watched them, your heart so full it felt as if it might burst.

After a long moment, you spoke. “What about… Javier?”

Joel looked up at you.

You smiled softly. “Javi. You know, after your dad, like we talked about?”

He held your gaze. His eyes were glassy again, full of everything you already knew but loved hearing anyway.

But then he shook his head slowly and looked down at the baby again.

“I love that,” he said gently, “but I got one better.”

You raised a brow. “Oh? What could be better than your dad’s name?” you said almost sarcastically.

Joel glanced back at you—and the look he gave you could’ve melted stone. It was love and pride and something so much deeper.

“What about Levi?” he said with warmth in his voice.

You stared at him, breath catching in your chest. “Joel, I…”

“You talk about him like he was magic and love and everything good about this world,” he said, eyes still locked on yours. “I think our boy deserves a name like that.”

You blinked fast, tears rising again, you reached out and put your hand on the baby's head, leaning down to kiss it softly. “I… I’d love that.”

Joel smiled, then looked back down at the baby, cradling him just a little closer. “Levi Miller,” he said softly. “That’s a strong name, isn’t it, little guy?”

You leaned your head on Joel’s shoulder and watched the two of them breathe together.

Joel whispered, “I hope he grows up with your strength. Your heart. If he even gets a piece of something from me, he’ll turn out alright.”

The baby stirred, let out a tiny sigh, and nestled deeper into Joel’s chest.

Your eyes started to feel heavy, exhaustion catching up with you as you lay there with everything you could ever want in this universe.

Three Years Later

The house smelled like roasted tomatoes and garlic, dinner in the crockpot — it was warm and savory, the kind of scent that lingered in every soft corner and made it feel like home.

You sat at the kitchen table in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt of Joel’s, a mug of lukewarm coffee forgotten beside your laptop as you hovered over a set of photos — a family session you’d shot the night before. Golden-hour light bathed the screen, the kind that wrapped around everything like a promise. You tapped through edits, adjusting color tones, smoothing light, and softening shadows.

A thud at the front door broke your focus — followed by the high-pitched sound of a little boy yelling, “Mamaaa! I’m hooooome!”

You barely had time to push your chair back before small feet thundered across the floor and Levi burst into the kitchen, cheeks pink from the fall air, curls wild under his little blue cap.

“I went to work today!” he shouted, launching himself at your legs.

You scooped him up with practiced ease, laughing as he wrapped his arms around your neck. “You did? All by yourself?”

“Nooo with Daddy!” he corrected immediately, pulling back to beam at you and ramble with the small lisp he had, “We have donuts and I gots to ride in the truck and I gots to drove the dump truck and I helped Mr. Jimmy lift a wood with the big big crane and I gots to eat two gummies, mama! And I gots to wear a real hard hat. Like a real one, Mama. Not fake ones.”

You widened your eyes in mock shock. “You drove a dump truck, my love?”

“Mhm,” he nodded solemnly, puffing his chest out. “I was the driver. Daddy says I was in charge!”

A familiar voice called from the hall, rich with humor and affection. “He assisted.”

Joel stepped into the kitchen, wearing his faded Carhartt jacket you bought him last Christmas, and a slight smudge of dirt across one cheek. His hair was wind-tousled, curls pushed back, face flushed from the cold, and his smile was nothing short of adoring as he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead.

“Hey, baby.”

You arched a brow at him, still holding Levi in your lap. “Did I hear our son right? Drove a dump truck?”

Joel gave a guilty smile. “Sat on my lap and moved the steering wheel in the yard. Jimmy was spotting the whole time. Not exactly a freeway situation.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Mmhmm. My three-year-old’s already operating heavy machinery, my my isn't he growin' up?"

“He’s a Miller,” Joel said with a shrug. “We come outta the womb swingin’ hammers.”

You chuckled softly and kissed the top of his head before Levi piped up again, tugging gently at your hoodie. “And I told the dump truck man that when I growed up big, I’m gonna be a dump truck man and a Jedi and a dinosaur finder.”

“A paleontologist,” Joel translated under his breath with a grin.

You nodded seriously. “Well, now, that is a very impressive resume.”

Levi wiggled down from your lap and started pulling off his shoes with zero aim or coordination. One went flying under the table haphazardly.

“Did you tell Mama about the gummy bear bribe for not sticking your hand in the concrete mixer, mijo?” Joel asked, peeling off his jacket.

“I did not touch it,” Levi said proudly. “I just almost did.” He giggled, covering his mouth with his hands like he always did.

You laughed, already standing to retrieve the shoe from beneath the table. “Well, I’ll say that’s progress from last time you went with daddy to work...”

You remembered a few months ago — Levi had dashed straight through a freshly poured slab of concrete just because he heard the ice cream truck’s jingle from across the site.

Joel had carried him to the truck barefoot, scolding him the whole way, then came home with the half-eaten cone in one hand and a tiny cement small footprint mold in the other.

Levi, completely unfazed, proudly held up his half-melted vanilla ice cream cone and said, “Daddy said bad words, but I gotted ice cream so it’s okay now.”

“He made a permanent mark on the damn job site,” Joel grumbled, setting it on the table next to you. “But I guess that’s what Millers do.”

Later that night, you found the footprint on Joel’s nightstand and it's not left since.

Joel set his jacket on the back of a chair and moved behind you, slipping his arms around your waist, face burying in the crook of your neck. “Mmm, I missed you today.”

You leaned into him, resting a hand on his forearm. “I missed you, too, cowboy.”

Levi, who had now retrieved a toy stegosaurus from the living room and was making it roar aggressively at a disinterested houseplant, paused to glance at the two of you. “Ew, you two kissin’?” His little southern drawl coming through.

“Yes,” Joel called back, grinning. “We love each other. Can’t I kiss your mama?” Joel kissed your cheek then jaw, making you giggle and melt into him.

Levi made a gagging sound and ran down the hallway towards his playroom.

Joel chuckled, lips brushing against your hairline. “Three going on thirteen.”

You turned in his arms and reached up to wipe the little smudge off his cheek with your thumb. “He’s definitely your son. All stubborn and southern charm.”

Joel kissed your knuckles. “And yours. He’s got that soft heart. Cryin’ over a lost ladybug last week? That’s all you, baby.”

You smiled and leaned your forehead against his for a long moment, breathing him in. “Thanks for takin’ him today. I needed to edit and Maria said Rosie was teething, and Sarah had that scholarship meeting and—”

“I know,” Joel said. “What’s bein’ a dad if not for take your kid to work days sometimes? Plus he ran the job site. I won't be surprised if he starts invoicin' us.”

You laughed again, then tilted your head toward the table. “Want some lunch? Or I can heat-up of last night’s pasta?”

“Anything I don’t have to make sounds amazing.” He gently kissed your cheek.

Just then, Levi returned, dragging a large plastic T-Rex by the tail. “Mama? I'm hungry... can I has dinosaur mac and cheese? With a ketchup face?”

You tutted and smiled, "One bowl of mac n' cheese with a ketchup face comin' right up..."

He smiled and kissed your cheek before pecking your lips and walking away towards the cupboard. “I’ll make it, mi vida. Sit down, I got this...”

As Joel moved to the stove, Levi climbed into your lap again, warm and squirmy, resting his head briefly against your chest before popping back up to explain, in vivid detail, how the dump truck made the loudest beep beep sound when it went backward and how Sarah told him if he eats his veggies more, he’ll grow “a whole inch.”

His curls were still soft. His eyes — just like Joel’s — deep brown and sparkled when he smiled.

You listened, brushing your fingers over his arm absently, and thought of how much life had changed in three years as you continued to edit photos. Of how full your days had become. Of how Levi had woven himself into every fiber of your being.

And just as he was explaining a scene from The Good Dinosaur in excruciating detail — again — Joel set a bowl in front of him with the tiniest ketchup face dotting the pasta.

Levi gasped, beaming. “Thank you, Daddy!”

Joel kissed the top of his head. “Anytime, bud.”

As Levi dug in happily, moving to another chair and place at the table, Joel returned to your side, sliding into the chair beside you and resting a hand on your thigh, as he also joined your son in eating bowl of dino mac and cheese with a ketchup face.

You sat back and watched them together — father and son, naming off dinosaurs in their bowls, sunlight filtering in across the floor, the rhythm of home pulsing all around you.

And as Levi looked up and giggled, noodles stuck to his cheek, you leaned against Joel’s shoulder and smiled softly to yourself, thinking about what the future held for your perfect little family.

Dinner had been easy — quick and easy spaghetti from the crockpot, garlic bread warmed in the oven.

Levi dramatically refused the side salad but didn't waste time inhaling a second helping of noodles like no one’s business.

After the plates were cleared and Levi’s juice cup was drained, you and Joel stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink, washing up while Levi stacked his toy trucks under the table in what he claimed was “parking lot jail.”

Sarah breezed through the back door with a gust of cold air and a smile that had been growing all week. “I’m home!”

“In here, baby girl,” Joel called when he heard the door shut.

She popped her head into the kitchen, breath still visible from the chill. “I have updates!” She said as she set her soccer duffle on the ground and her school backpack on the island.

Joel dried his hands on a dish towel and leaned back against the counter. “We’re listening.”

You turned off the tap and gave her your full attention. “Tell us everything.”

She grinned, tucking her fingers into her sleeves from excitement. “Okay, so Coach thinks I’ll have at least three official offers by next week. The Austin rep was very interested. And — get this — they’re talking about a full ride!”

Joel let out a low whistle. “That’s incredible, sweetheart.”

You smiled wide. “We’re so proud of you.”

Sarah looked pleased but tried to shrug it off. “They want to do a follow-up one-on-one next week—Thursday at noon.”

“We’ll be there,” Joel said immediately, looking at you for reassurance.

You smiled at him, then looked at her and nodded. “Absolutely.”

She lit up. “Really?”

Joel smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it. We’ll figure out Levi’s daycare schedule or bring him along. He can wear his tiny cleats and mini Miller jersey Grandma made him for moral support.” He joked.

Sarah rolled her eyes fondly, looking at him behind her as he played. “He would want that, wouldn’t he?”

You all laughed, and then she grabbed a soda from the fridge and kissed your cheek before disappearing up the stairs to her room.

Levi yawned as he tried to lift two trucks with one arm.

Joel turned to you. “You ready for bath time?”

You smirked. “Depends. Are you doing it?”

“As the amazing husband I am — and I’m not going to mention how I was just ‘voluntold’ — yes, I would love to, mi vida,” he teased, already scooping Levi up under the arms.

You couldn’t help but chuckle and wipe down the counter around you. "I'll be in there in a minute..."

“Daddy! I not dirty,” Levi protested through a sleepy giggle.

“You got spaghetti in your ears, mijo.” He kissed his cheek gently, taking him up the stairs.

“Only a little spaghetti…” he countered.

You shook your head with a smile as you heard Joel carrying him down the hall, leaving a trail of bubble bath negotiations in their wake.

—

A few minutes later, you wandered up toward the bathroom, and stopped in the doorway.

Levi was buried in bubbles — like buried. The entire tub was a foamy mountain, and he sat squarely in the middle of it, only his head and toy dinosaur poking out.

Joel sat on the tile floor, sleeves pushed up, a sheepish grin on his face.

“He poured the soap,” he said quickly, like they always did with each other — point fingers.

“I poured a lot, Mama,” Levi announced proudly.

“I noticed...”

Joel scooped a handful of foam and dropped it like a crown on Levi’s head. “King of Suds!"

“Bubble crown!” Levi shouted, flinging bubbles with his tiny arms.

You leaned against the doorframe and laughed softly. “Just don’t let him drink it this time… we can’t have sudsy hiccups.... again....” you teased.

“But those are the best kind, Mama,” Joel joked, kissing Levi’s soapy forehead.

“Burping bubbles, hmm?” You came over and gently kissed Joel’s temple before kneeling alongside him.

“Have we washed in between our toes yet?” You grinned at your son, pulling his foot out of the water dramatically.

He squealed and shook his head, wiggling his toes.

Joel sat back on his knees and watched the two of the most important people in his life fill the bathroom.

Which was not too many years ago, bare and boring; it was now filled with love, laughter… and a dinosaur or two.

Later, when pajamas were on and hair towel-dried, Levi snuggled beneath his dinosaur comforter, yawning like he’d worked a full nine-to-five day.

Joel sat beside the bed, the soft yellow light of the bedside dinosaur egg lamp casting shadows across the room. You stood quietly in the doorway, arms crossed, watching your favorite part of the day.

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air,” Joel read softly, his voice smooth and warm. “Goodnight noises everywhere.”

Levi blinked slowly, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “'Night, moon,” he whispered, already halfway under.

Joel closed the book gently and brushed back Levi’s curls. “Sweet dreams, mi sueño.”

As he stood and turned, he found you watching him.

You smiled faintly, heart caught in your throat at how good of a dad he was, how amazing he’d been and will continue to be.

Just thinking about it — a few years ago, this life felt impossible. Unreachable. A fantasy you didn’t dare let yourself want. And now? This was it. Your kitchen was full of laughter. Your son was in footie pajamas, dreaming of adventures as a 'dinosaur finder'. Joel whispering bedtime stories in the softest voice you’d ever heard. Sarah was on her way to brighter things as a young woman.

It was everything you ever dreamed it could be.

You turned off the light and let Joel guide you back to the bedroom.

He kicked off his boots and peeled off his shirt, ruffling his hair. “That kid has more energy in the tub than a hummingbird on sugar water.”

You chuckled, pulling your sweatshirt over your head. “I believe he gets that type of stamina from you.”

Joel flopped onto the bed with a groan. “I wish I still had that energy.”

You stepped into the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. Joel leaned on the doorway a moment later, arms crossed, watching you in the mirror. His eyes had that familiar glint of mischief and affection all tangled together.

“You ever think about having another?” he asked with a gentle and warm tone to his voice.

You glanced at him in the mirror, raising a brow. “Subtle, cowboy...”

Joel shrugged. “Just sayin’. You handled the first one like a champ.”

You turned off the tap, grinning. “Mmm, and how soon were you thinkin’ we try for another?”

Joel’s brow lifted slightly, amused. “That depends...”

You took a step toward him, something tucked behind your back from the pocket of the hoodie.

Joel’s gaze flicked down briefly, then back up to your face. “Why do you ask?”

You leaned in, brushing your nose against his. “Because…”

Before he could speak, you kissed him — soft and slow — and he smiled against your lips, cupping your cheeks.

Then his mouth slid to your jaw, then lower, to your neck.

“How about we try tonight?” he murmured, voice thick with heat, hands sliding around your waist, pulling you against him.

You giggled, breath catching in the back of your throat, and then whispered, “What if we don’t need to try at all?”

Joel froze, just enough.

He pulled back slowly, searching your eyes.

You bit your lip and brought your hand out from behind your back.

Two pregnancy tests. Two pink lines.

His eyes widened. “Baby, are you—…”

“I took them this morning. I was going to wait, but…” You shrugged, smiling as you watched his reaction. “The headaches weren’t just from the screen time or forgetting to drink water."

You looked down at the tests, "I guess you could say I had a gut feeling.”

Joel reached for the tests like they were something holy. His breath stuttered.

“You’re really…?”

You nodded, tears stinging your eyes now, hands moving up to comb your fingers through his hair softly. “I’m really.”

He let out a quiet laugh, the sound of someone who couldn’t contain the swell of joy if he tried. Then he pulled you in — arms wrapped tight, face buried in your neck, and just held you.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were glassy.

“I don’t deserve this,” he whispered, beaming cheek to cheek.

You pressed your forehead to his. “You do. We do.”

His hands dropped instinctively to your abdomen, his thumbs grazing your stomach. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You let out a small laugh as he leaned in and captured your lips with his, kissing you slowly and deeply.

Somewhere in the soft hum of the quiet house — Levi dreaming in the next room, Sarah asleep with a future on the horizon, warm air, and laughter still lingering in the walls — you felt it.

It was the start of another beautiful chapter that started with something so simple.

All of this — it all bloomed from a letter, to a single dad in Texas, who changed your world when he sent a four-word confession:

‘With all my love’

The end (for now)

Previous Chapter

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paulyenvol6 · 1 month ago

Text

'I'm a pleaser'

Pedro x female reader

So.... about the interview... It was so hot hearing him say this phrase, so I thought I'm gonna write something about Pedro being down bad for reader and always wanting to please her and be good to her. Enjoy :)

Contains: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, fluff, dirty talk, praise, Pedro being the sweetest and best and kindest husband in the world, Pedro having both sub and dom vibes, Pedro is a pleaser, established relationship (they're married), nicknames like baby and honey and babygirl

Wordcount: 4,031

Masterlist

"Hi baby," you shouted, the weight of the bag on your arm making your wrist hurt and you groaned as you stepped through the door.

"Fuck!" you cursed, feeling it dangle against you. With much effort, you turned around and pushed the door shut. You were still trying to carry the two bags across the hallway and into the kitchen when the door to the living room opened.

"Honey. Lemme help you with that."

Pedro rushed toward you, taking the bags from you without waiting for your reply and brought them into the kitchen while you exhaled and wiped with the back of your hand over your brow to remove the drops of sweat pooling on your skin.

"Thank you, Pedro!" you shouted as you took off your jacket and hung it on the coat rack before following him.

"No worries. How was your day?" he said over his shoulder and then started to unpack the groceries, but stopped when you hugged him from behind.

"Good," you mumbled against his nape, your arms tightly wrapped around his waist. "Work was fine and then I met with Sarah in café and on the way home I went to the grocery store. Did you know that Sarah and Mike are gonna get a dog?"

Pedro's hand came down to rest on top of yours and you smiled as he started to trace your knuckles.

"Oh really? Aren't they stressed out enough?"

"Yeah, but they think it would be nice for the kids… How was your day?"

You nudged your chin against his shoulder, admiring his profile and then kissing him right next to his ear while Pedro cleared his throat.

"A little exhausting from time to time. But good. I mostly shot with Joseph and Vanessa today which was nice."

You closed your eyes, lazily tracing his abs with your fingers while softly purring. "That's good…"

Pedro's lips curled which you couldn't see and then carefully turned in your hold so he could stand in front of you and cradle the back of your head while you gave him a gentle smile.

"Let me unpack this stuff, okay? You go in the living room, sit down and then I'll be right there and we're gonna have a nice evening. How does that sound?" Pedro whispered, pursing his lips and then grabbing your hand to press a kiss on your palm.

"You sure?" you asked, your voice equally quiet and your eyes flickering uncertainly between your husband and the bags. "You had an exhausting day and I – "

"Yes. I'm sure," Pedro interrupted you before you were able to finish the sentence and pulled your head toward him to tenderly kiss your hairline.

"You can relax. I'm good, I promise. In fact, thank you for going to the grocery store. I already feel awful for letting you do that after work."

"Pedro. C'mon," you frowned, but couldn't maintain the facade when he grimaced and then singlehandedly turned you around so you faced the kitchen door.

"Go on, now. Rest on the couch and I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright, alright," you murmured, lifting your hands and unwillingly following his demand.

The smile was glued to your lips, your face still glowing with love and affection for your perfect, caring husband as you sank down on the couch with a sigh and dropped your head back so it could finally rest. Truthfully, your day had been tough, but the prospect of rounding off the evening snuggled up with Pedro was too tempting to waste time feeling sorry for yourself. Therefore you waited with closed eyes and a slight curve on your lips while listening to the noises in the kitchen. Pedro quietly hummed a familiar tune to himself that you couldn't name though and then finally, when he had put the last can of chickpeas away in the cupboard, you could hear his feet dragging across the kitchen floor as he headed to the door.

"I'm done, baby," he shouted while shoving the bags into a drawer and despite your heavy limbs, you turned in your seat to watch him walk through the door.

"C'mere," you said, your voice thin and quiet, your weakness visible, but your desire to finally have him close to you loud and clear. He grinned wryly, running a hand through his hair before lowering himself right next to you, the couch mellifluously grunting under his weight. You instantly enguled Pedro in a tight embrace and let out a high-pitched noise of approval when he pressed your face to his chest, all of your senses consumed by his typical scent of cinnamon.

"I missed you, baby. Missed you all day…," he growled, tenderly stroking up and down your back while your fingers played with the babyhair in his neck.

"I missed you, too. Is there anything on your schedule for tomorrow?" you whispered, your face tense with the fear of him telling you that he wouldn't have time for you, but to your fortune, you felt him shake his head.

"No. I have the day free. It's a Saturday, c'mon. Disney's not that tough on me."

He chuckled, the vibrations feeling magical in your chest and you noticed your stomach clench with sheer adoration for the man holding you so gently and firmly, representing just what you were feeling. You were yearning for him, desiring to spend the rest of your life cuddled up against his chest if it only was possible.

"Okay. Can we do something then?" you asked, lifting your head to dart up to him and feeling your heartrate pick up at the softness surrounding his brown puppy eyes.

"Of course. You wanna do something special?"

You nodded, the thought only having flickered in your head just now, but it sounded heavenly in your mind.

"Can we go on a picknick? We could go to Hampstead Heath or – or OmVed gardens, it's not that busy there. We surely would have our privacy if we find ourselves a nice corner."

Pedro pursed his lips like he was thinking, but quickly softened his expression and nodded.

"That sounds good. Although… You sure it's not a bit too cold for that? I don't want you to get sick, you know?"

"I'm sure it's gonna be fine. We can take blankets with us. And hot tea. I mean, we're in London, right?"

He scoffed and then lowered your head to his collarbone again while giving your waist a squeeze.

"Okay. Let's do it then. But… in the evening I'd like to be back in the city."

Your head shot up again, your eyes small as you suspiciously observed his wrinkled forehead and the faint smirk playing around his lips.

"Why?"

"That's a surprise."

Your eyebrows drew together, your hands leaving the back of his neck so you could cross your arms in front of your chest.

"No," you complained, well-aware of the fact that Pedro knew how much you hated surprises. You were much too unpatient to even just wait for a day to find out what he had planned.

"Yes," Pedro said, remaining unwavering as he put his hands on your hips. "You'll have to wait to find out."

"Baby, you know that I can't wait 24 hours. That's cruel."

He chuckled and then glared at the watch around his wrist.

"Mhmm… not 24 hours. Let's say… 22 and 30 minutes. You got this."

A dramatic whine left your throat as you threw your head back and pretended to sob into your hands.

"You really gonna do this to me? Even though you know that I don't like secrets. Are you gonna do that to your wife? You're a bad husband, you know that, right?"

Obviously Pedro couldn't just let that go, so he tightened his grip on your hips and pulled you up onto his lap until you were straddling him.

"You know, there are a lot of things you could hold over my head. Like… okay, maybe not a lot of things. But I'm not an awesome singer… I'm not a good cook. Definitely not. And I… I force you to watch bad movies with me without telling you what they're about so you can't back out. BUT… Don't you ever say again that I'm a bad husband."

He smiled cockily, narrowing his eyes while you thoughtfully twisted your lips. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Or you think you would find someone else who'd give you a trip to Paris just so you can visit an exhibition about your favorite director? Because I listen to you, I'm attentive and so I know what makes you happy. And wait… it wasn't even your birthday."

You rolled your eyes, tilting your head, but a telling smile had crept up on your face that you were unable to supress.

"Oh come on. You don't have to be a genius to know that I love Wes Anderson. When do I ever stop talking about him?"

Your hands came up to cradle his face and although you were still pretending to sulk you briefly brushed with your lips over his temple. Pedro wouldn't have it though, he withdrew, raised his brows and then shook his head.

"I want you to take it back."

His eyes were sparkling with a mischievous amusement, but there was also something determined. Nevertheless, you bit your lip like you still weren't sure and then were about to say something – admit that he actually was more than a good husband (the perfect husband) – when he suddenly pulled you in close and crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was heated and intense, so hot that the air between your faces seemed to crackle and before you could process what was happening, you desperately grinded your core against the bulge beneath his pants. Pedro had his hands situated on your waist, palming and squeezing whenever your clothed pussy nudged against the tip of his dick, but then sooner than you wanted it to end, he stopped the kiss and looked you up and down.

"Okay, baby. Lemme show you then. Maybe I have to remind you of how good I am to you."

Your body shivered at the words or maybe it was his low husky voice that sent goosebumps all over your arms, but either way it worked perfectly on you and you gulped while Pedro secured his hold around your torso and picked you up. One arm was around your shoulder blades and the other on your ass, watching you with dark and flashing eyes while he rose to his feet to carry you away from the living room and to the bedroom.

"I wanna make you feel so good, babygirl. I want you to cum so hard, you forget your own name. I always want you to be happy and – and I wanna be the reason for your happiness…," he raspily whispered, covering your neck and cleavage with wet kisses that produced a smacking sound.

"Pedro…," you whimpered, your core helplessly rocking forward to somehow find any friction, but you would have been unsuccessful, hadn't he assisted you and brought his right hand between your legs. You rejoiced, your breath catching in your throat as you finally had the opportunity to grind against something and achieve at least a little bit of stimulation on your throbbing clit.

"Yeah… Say my name, I wanna hear how good I make you feel."

The next moan was swallowed as Pedro suddenly threw you onto the bed, but was so careful about it, a hand at the back of your head so that you couldn't bump it against anything. He didn't hesitate and followed, crawling to lay on top of you and propping himself on his knees and elbow so he didn't bury you under his weight.

"I want you to feel perfect, honey… You want me to go down on you? Just need you to… need you to cum for me… need you to be happy."

"I always am with you, Pedro," you whispered, but then whimpered as he cupped your breasts through your blouse, precisely searching for your nipple and then circling it with his thumb.

"Y-Yes," you ended up stuttering in regards to his ealier question and pressed your legs together to forget the pulsing heat between them.

"Please do something… I need it bad."

Judging by the look of sheer joy on his face, it was exactly what he had wanted to hear. Pedro lived to please you; lived to see you smile or moan or laugh or sigh in relief and what he loved even more was when he was the one making you feel that way. Therefore the prospect of going down on you and gifting you unimaginable pleasure was the perfect opportunity for him to feed this side of him and please you in ways that were purely enthralling and sensational for the both of you.

"Okay, babygirl. I want you to relax and enjoy it and tell me if you don't like anything, alright?" he whispered while opening the first few buttons of your blouse, his fingers so trained and skillful that he did it while maintaining eye contact.

"Yes, Pedro. Please, just – I need it."

"I know, I know," he cooed, slightly pushing the fabric of your shirt over your shoulders to reveal more skin and then crawling down your body in one go so his head was on the same level as your stomach.

The softness of his eyes, the big brown irises and the slightly parted lips were ravishing, your heart racing although Pedro hadn't even started yet. He didn't tease and edge you, but still you needed him go 10 times faster when he opened the button of your pants and shoved them down your legs until they dangled around your knees, your underwear following soon. He chuckled at your trembling legs and the way your heels dug into the mattress in search of release, but was quick to press a warm hand on the inside of your knees. All that reached your ears before his words were drowned by your pussy was a quiet 'Jesus…' and then your back arched off the bed as Pedro pressed a bold kiss right onto your clitoris, a gesture that was both welcoming and frustrating. You yearned for friction, for something to rub against to ease the coiling ache in your clit, but you felt that the more he gave you, the more you needed.

"Fuck. Fuck, Pedro, oh god…," you whimpered, biting down on your own hand while bending your neck so you could look down at him. And the image was more than worth it.

His puppy eyes looked even more tempting and sultry, his locks gleaming beautifully in the dim light and his lips glistening deliciously every time he withdrew for a moment to lick over them. One of the things you loved the most was the way he seemed to savour and adore every drop of your wetness that he got to taste on his tongue because it not only gave you confidence, but made you feel desirable. Beautiful and torrid.

His left hand had wandered to your breasts, kneading and tracing the swell as if he didn't want to neglect any part of your body while his right kept your legs wide open for him.

"So good Pedro… Fuck, please – please, I…"

It was all mindless stuttering, just some way to get rid of the accumulated tightness in your thighs and belly, but Pedro was listening precisely to everything leaving your mouth.

"Yes, baby… Talk to me. What do you need?"

He trailed down the front of your body, drawing a few soothing circles on top of your lower belly before grabbing your hand that was pressed to the side of your body.

"Just – Just you… Fuck, right there."

The tip of his tongue was drawing random patterns over your clit, lines and circles and triangles and you seemed to lose your mind over and over again every time his heavy, warm, rough tongue grazed the sensitive nub. At some point you couldn't help yourself, your free hand grabbing his locks and gently tugging at it while you started to roll your hips against his face, which caused Pedro to growl deeply.

"Yes, honey… Take from me what you need… S'right…"

The vibrations transferred right to your body, prickling against your swollen clit and you threw your head back, your lids fluttering and your mouth agape. You were speechless and restricted in your ability to move apart from the shifting of your hips, but Pedro seemed to know exactly what you needed and acted accordingly. This wasn't him teasing or edging you, graciously giving before drawing back just to hear you beg, no, he intended to please you in every way possible and give you what you desired before you could even express your demand.

"Yes…. Pedro, please. Need your fingers too," you pressed, slamming your hand, that had been in his hair, down on the bed next to you as he kitten-licked your clit, the tip of his tongue precise and accurate like a laser pointer. He obliged as soon as the words had left your mouth and brought two fingers to your hole, prodding and tracing your entrance before easing them inside of your drenched pussy. The gasp you let out made his heart skip a beat or two and he testingly curled his two digits, feeling the adrenaline rush through his veins at your whimpering.

"Y-Yes. Right there Pedro, please. Please don't stop."

"Not going to, honey."

The combination truly was electrifying. The dance of his tongue over your clit was your main source of stimulation, the tight circles proof of how well he knew your body by now, but his thick curled fingers, repeatedly brushing over your sweet spot hidden deep inside of you only added to the ecstasy of it all.

"It's right there, huh?" he murmured, the wet sound of his tongue lapping up the juices he had spread all over your pussy almost overcasting his words.

"It's itching right there, isn't that right? Lemme make it better."

The heat in your belly became almost unbearable, your pelvis tremoring with the need to finally crossing that bridge and letting all of the tension in your body go, but at the same time his mouth and hands on you felt so good that a part of you wished it could just go on like this for all time.

You brought a hand to his head again, combing through the silky stunning locks, but holding on to him at the same time which surely stung in his scalp, but he took it with a deep groan.

"Jesus fucking christ… You taste so perfect. You're gonna cum for me?"

You wriggled, the hand that was still clasped by Pedro's squeezing him tightly and wrapping the whole of your hand around his thumb.

"Yes. Yes, I wanna cum, Pedro, please…"

You didn't even know what you were begging for because he was right here and you knew he would tease as many orgasm out of you as you wished, make you cum over and over again if you liked it and find pleasure in it as well. It was just so much. There were so many things you were feeling and you believed that if you didn't vocally express the pleasure you were receiving, you would burst.

He slowly, but forcefully moved the two fingers inside of you, relentlessly tapping against your inner walls and the precious sweet spot that was so sensitive and delicate under his touch. Meanwhile, the pace of his tongue picked up and Pedro moved the hand that had previously rested on your hip bone to your pussy to get the protective hood out of the way and brush over the very responsive underside of the bundle of nerves.

"Pedro, I'm gonna – I – "

You stopped mid-sentence, your jaw dropping and your view becoming blurry while a sticky, warm liquid seemed to tide through your limbs and first and foremost, your thighs. It pulsed and saturated your already mushy brain to a point where you couldn't even pay attention to your husband between your legs anymore although it was such a pretty picture. Your hand squeezed his thumb firmly, almost bending his hand in an unnatural angle, but your head was too high up in the clouds to question it and Pedro once again took it all without drawing his face.

"There you go, yes… God, I love seeing you fall apart for me, it's such a beautiful fucking sight…"

He helped you ride out your orgasm, his fingers carefully thrusting in you and his tongue glued to your clit until he noticed the way you squirmed and stopped to check on you.

"My perfect baby…," he whispered full of admiration and glanced up to you, grinning at your half-lidded eyes that tiredly tried to keep their focus on his face. You were wrecked and exhausted, but seemed very satisfied and Pedro could proudly say that it was his doing.

"That was so good," your airy voice reached his head, quiet like you didn't have the strength to speak louder. Pedro's insides twisted and turned pirouettes, his eyes on your slightly parted lips while he slowly withdrew his fingers from your pussy, licked them clean in relish and then glided his tongue through your folds one last time to slurp up your arousal before wiping over his lips with the back of his hand. At this point your eyes were completely shut and the steady heaving of your chest suggested that you were asleep. But when Pedro moved up the bed, the mattress jiggling and the silk sheets rustling your lashes fluttered and you softly moaned.

"Pedro," you murmurated and flexed your toes when he lay down beside you and was quick to pull you closer, a hand brushing the sweaty hair out of you face and another caressing your cheek.

"I love you so much, honey… Are you all good?"

If you hadn't been so tired, you would have widened your eyes at the question, your heart pounding with an infinte love and adoration for your husband. You were not only in awe of his beauty in this light, the things he had made you feel, but also just of him. The way he had just made you feel dreamlike things and now asked you if you were good.

"Yes. More than good, Pedro," you stated and leaned into the touch of his hand on your face.

"But I – I wanna make you feel good, too," you said, your voice wishful and reverant, but the way you could barely keep your eyes open very telling. Pedro chuckled lowly and kissed you right between your brows.

"We're gonna do that another time. You're tired and need some rest. Don't you worry about me, I got everything I wanted tonight."

He took your hand again, vaguely trailing along your fingers with his thumb and shook his head in amusement when you hummed in dissatisfaction.

"But, no… You need to cum too."

"Shhhh, baby…," Pedro soothed you, tugging you snug against his broad body until all you could see and hear and smell was him. The grey fabric of his hoodie, his heartbeat and the familiar sweet cinnamon.

"I got everything I wanted… Got to have a taste of you and listen to your pretty noises… And see you cum for me… It's all I'm ever gonna need in my life. I just always want you to be satisfied and happy."

Pedro exhaled, peacefully kissing you on top of your head as if he was blind to how messy your hair was.

"I love you, Pedro," you whispered, about to drift off to sleep, but before you could do that you had to say one more thing.

"You're the sweetest and best husband in the world."

He smirked broadly, his already soft eyes relaxing further and then he carefully and without moving too much, reached for the blanket and pulled it over both of your bodies.

"I love you, too," he whispered, not being certain that you were still awake, but it felt good saying it nonetheless.

It always felt good with you.

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