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jobean12-blog · 11 months ago

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A Place Made for Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (No-outbreak Joel)

Word Count: 5,081

Summary: You're new to the small town Joel's lived in all his life and just the sight of you has him feeling a certain way so when he learns that you've bought the old bookshop and you're moving into the apartment above, it turns his familiar world upside down.

Author's Note: This one got away from me. I love the idea of Joel just living his life and doing construction and being grumpy and then reader comes along and really gives him a run for his money. Had to include a bookshop for this because along with Joel, it's one of my favorite things. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

PS Bold font means texts and anything italics is like an inner thought lol

Warnings: grumpy Joel, sassy reader, tension, flirting, softness and smiles, fluff and sweetness

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You trudge down the canned food aisle feeling completely indecisive but hungry and growing more aggravated by the second.

As you round the next corner you’re sifting through the contents of your basket when you walk headfirst into what feels like the wall.

“Ow!” you yelp as you stumble back.

A strong arm wraps around your waist to steady you and you look up, blinking.

“Better watch where you’re goin’ there darlin’.”

Your body tenses at the feel of him pressed against you and you mutter something inaudible under your breath before slipping from his grasp.

“Not even a thank you,” he muses as he turns to follow you.

“Weren’t you going the other way?” you shoot back.

“Just realized I forgot the pasta,” he says, leaning over your shoulder to whisper the words close to your ear.

You force your betraying body to remain calm at his proximity and then ignore the comment.

“What the hell are you gonna make with that mish mosh?” he asks as he peeks into your basket.

“Why do you care?” you counter with a brittle smirk.

He shrugs as the corners of his mouth turn up into a grin.

“Maybe something to poison you with…that would be nice.”

Your sassy remark makes his whole face light up with a smile and it momentarily roots you to the spot.

With one last disgruntled glance you stomp off in the other direction. “Since I’m new here you’d think you’d be a little more neighborly!”

“Fuck,” Joel mutters as he follows you.

“Ok darlin’.”

“Ok what?” you ask as you turn to face him.

“Maybe…” and he paused, studying you. “I could be a bit more friendly.”

He looks back down at your basket.

“You know if you grab some beans and a pepper you’ll be well on your way to making a great chili.”

“Chili,” you repeat.

You look between him and the basket. “That works. Although…”

“You’ve never made it before?”

At his question you fight back a sigh.

“No. I haven’t. But I’m capable of looking up a recipe.”

“Or I could just tell you about some good take-out places.”

You roll your eyes.

“I can manage to cook my own dinner, thanks!”

At the sarcasm in your tone his grin widens before he starts to step around you, his arm brushing yours with the motion.

“Great darlin.’ Just don’t burn the place down or anything. It’s the only bookshop in the neighborhood and we all love it.”

He winks and saunters off.

The urge to turn around and watch him is almost overwhelming but you square your shoulder and keep your chin up. “I can make chili,” you assure yourself.

Joel sits across from Tommy and sips his beer, waiting for his brother to make a dinner choice.

If Tommy notices Joel glancing too many times at the small bookshop across the street, he doesn’t mention it.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tommy remarks as he drops the menu and leans back. “What’s on your mind?”

Joel grunts before looking across the street again. “Work.”

“This new job we have is a big one. I want it to go perfectly so they hire us for the rest of it.” Joel continues.

Tommy nods in agreement but he’s battling a smile.

“Somethin’ you wanna say brother?” Joel asks.

Tommy grins. “I might have somethin’ to say.”

Joel grinds his teeth and tightens his grip on the beer bottle.

“Heard you had a little exchange with our new bookshop owner at the grocery store this mornin’.”

“Who said?” Joel asks, pinning Tommy with dark eyes.

“No one of importance,” Tommy shrugs. “You’re starin’ a hole through the window.”

Tommy’s eyes glitter. He’s clearly enjoying himself. “Heard she didn’t back down and run off over your…charm.”

“You’re worse than a school girl. Spreadin’ gossip around.”

That makes Tommy laugh and he takes a swig of his drink.

“Still,” Tommy says. “I can’t blame you…she’s real nice to look at and probably a lot of fun when you get her goin’…which you seem to enjoy doin’.”

“Tommy,” Joel warns as his jaw tightens. “Don’t go sniffin’ around any of that and don’t ask me to explain why.”

Tommy dips his head in understanding, his mouth tight in a straight line but his eyes bright with amusement.

“Not a single sniff. You’ve got my word brother…”

Tommy’s head swings around and his attention settles on something happening in the street. “What the hell…?”

Joel jerks his head in the same direction and in matter of seconds he’s out of his chair and charging through the door.

Without thinking he runs toward you and let’s out a breath when he looks you over, the large pot between your fingers and a garbage bag over your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” you breathe, staring at him. “Where the hell did you come from?”

His relief at the fact that you’re unharmed is obvious even as he takes the pot from you and grabs your wrists, turning your hands over to check.

His skin is warm and his fingers are calloused. The sensations cause your mind to go blank and you stand there motionless.

Once he’s satisfied he looks down at the pot and the black contents inside. He’s still holding your wrists.

“I burnt it,” you say quietly. “The whole upstairs apartment smells awful so I thought I’d better get rid of it quick before the shop started to stink.”

“I can take care…” Tommy begins to speak and Joel whips his head around just now realizing he was even standing there and glares so Tommy snaps his mouth shut.

Joel looks back at you and slowly releases you, the loss of his touch something you instantly feel.

Tommy covers a cough and you drag your eyes away from Joel to glance at his younger brother.

“Hey,” Tommy says and extends his hand.

You reach out and shake it to introduce yourself.

“I was saying I could help you out with that but I think my brother here has it under control,” Tommy quips.

“Damn right I do,” Joel says, hands on his hips.

“Thanks Tommy, I appreciate the offer,” you smile.

Tommy tips his head and walks back across the street to the bar.

Joel’s hard eyes turn to you in an assessing way but he remains silent.

“Aren’t you going to make some shitty remark about my cooking skills,” you snip.

His broad shoulders slump and he holds out his hand.

“Here, give me the bag.”

You hand the bag over and watch as he empties what he can of the contents and then stares down at it with pursed lips.

“Might have to…” he starts.

“You can just get rid…” you say at the same time.

He drops the pot into the bag with a laugh.

It catches you off guard and when he meets your eyes again the surprise is evident in your wide-eyed expression.

“No shitty remarks darlin.’ Just glad you’re ok…and you didn’t burn the place down.”

The last part of his comment trails off into quiet mumblings but you still catch it.

“Couldn’t help yourself huh?” you say but you’re fighting back a small smile.

The two of you stand there on the sidewalk for what feels like forever until Joel clears his throat and you look up at him through your lashes.

“Guess your dinner’s ruined,” he states.

“You could say that. I’ll have to go aimlessly walk around the grocery store some more in the hopes of finding food.”

His large hand runs through his already mussed hair before it settles on the back of his head and he shoves his free hand into his jeans pocket.

“Hey uh, listen darlin’…I’m sorry if I was rude earlier…at the store…and the other times before that. It was wrong of me.”

Your expression softens.

“Thank you, I accept.”

Joel hums and flicks his head toward the bar. “I had just ordered dinner before you came running out. Go in and eat it.”

When you stare at him he plays back his words and realizes they came out as a demand.

“If you want to,” he adds. “Join me. For food.”

You smile and slide past him. Your distinct and soft scent wafts up to his nose and he instinctively inhales, his eyes closing briefly before he starts to move to follow you.

He motions to the small table and pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before he does the same. His thick fingers wrap around the fork, making it look comically small, before he hands it to you and pushes the plate closer.

You stab a French fry and pop it in your mouth.

“So Tommy…you guys work together?”

“Yeah. Construction. We actually have a big project coming up in the city. Working on one of the new fancy hotel buildings.

“That sounds exciting. I guess it’s not really a 9-5 job then?”

“Nah, not really. Some days we spend doing small, odd jobs around the neighborhood and other times we’ll be on one job for weeks or months.”

You nod. “What do you do in your spare time? Besides follow women around the grocery store and make snarky comment on their food choices.”

“Gonna hold that over my head for long?” he asks.

You look him over and pretend to think about it. “Not sure yet.”

“Fair enough,” he sighs, noticing you stopped eating and nudging your arm with his elbow. “Eat.”

“Are you always this bossy?” you ask as you chew.

His eyes drop to your mouth and the way you lick the salt from your lips.

“Maybe,” he replies, the sides of his mouth twitching with a smile.

“Fair enough,” you tell him, mirroring his earlier words.

The whites of his teeth appear with his lopsided smile

“You plannin’ on trying to cook chili again?”

“Maybe,” you answer, loving the way his eyes crinkle at your repeated and mocking words.

“So now that you know a little more about me why not tell me why you’re here in our little town?”

He settles his forearms on the table and leans in, watching you with intense eyes.

“Well,” you start with a sigh. “I’ve always wanted to run or own a bookshop but my job in the city was keeping me so busy I barely had time to read and of course it’s easier said than done. For a while I didn’t mind…the work that is. Sure I was busy but I figured my life was just what it was supposed to be. Had a nice apartment, steady job, steady boyfriend…until I didn’t. He broke up with me over a text and then refused to answer my calls and explain why. After that, my job became less and less appealing as did living in the city so when his opportunity came up I had to jump on it as scary as all the change is.”

You wait and hold his gaze. “What are you thinking?” you ask.

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” he says quietly before stealing a fry off the plate.

“Like?” you ask.

Like where I can find your ex-boyfriend so I can give him a proper beating.

When he still doesn’t speak you continue talking. “I’m thinking about the renovations I want to make to the bookshop. It’s nothing crazy. Just some minor changes to make it more of a cozy space.”

“That sounds nice,” he answers. “It could use some upgrades.”

“Definitely. And the door to my apartment upstairs doesn’t even lock! I need to get that fixed first.”

Joel’s eyes narrow at your statement. “That’s not safe.”

You smirk and steal the next fry that’s dangling between his fingers as they hover over the plate.

“Maybe I’ll look up some cute contractors online to come help me.”

He sits back, crossing his arms over his chest and spreading his legs wider under the table. Your gaze moves to the way his biceps pop under the tight fabric of his shirt.

“You could. If you wanted the job done poorly.”

“Are you saying you’d be able to do a better job?”

“Damn right darlin.”

Was this still about renovations to the shop?

With that thought still floating around in his brain he watches you stand and pop one last fry into your mouth.

“Thank you for sharing your dinner with me,” you say before rounding the table. “I like it when you’re nice.”

And I even like it when you’re bossy. Maybe too much.

You kept that last thought tucked away and lean down to kiss him on the cheek before lightly brushing your hand over his shoulder and walking out the door.

Tommy drops into the now empty seat, grinning ear to ear.

“How’d that go boss?” he asks.

“Shut it,” Joel growls.

Later that week with the sun just peeking above the horizon you hear a knock at your door. It startles you into alertness and you sit up with a gasp, dropping your book to the bed.

Your feet hit the cool floor and you ask, “who’s there?,” hoping to keep the shakiness from your voice.

“It’s Joel.”

“Oh,” you whisper, now suddenly even more alert but much less jumpy.

Before you open the door you quickly run a hand over your face and scrub away the sleepiness. You turn the knob and have it halfway open before you realize you’re barely dressed, the only thing covering your body is the old tee shirt that hits way above your knees.

You stop and peek through.

“I’m um…I’m not really dressed. I was in bed reading.”

“Shit,” Joel mutters. “Sorry darlin.’ I didn’t even realize the time. I can wait till you’ve put somethin’ on.”

He doesn’t move away from the door and you open it a little wider before slipping away to grab shorts.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly but not quietly enough and your lips turn up into a triumphant smile.

When you return you open the door invitingly and then notice the toolbox at his feet and meet his eyes.

His cheeks are dusted with pink and not even the scruff lining them can cover it. It’s hard to hide your smug satisfaction but you do your best.

“What’s that for?” you ask.

“I came to change the lock for you,” he explains hoarsely.

“Oh,” you answer, feeling your stomach erupt with nervous energy. “Why?”

“I’m leaving this morning. To go to the city and start on that hotel job. Won’t be back for a few days. I just…”

He kneels down and starts rummaging through the tool box, metal clanging against metal so you can barely hear him when he adds, “wanted to make sure this place was safe and secure.”

Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your old shirt.

“That’s really nice of you.”

“Well.” He stands and starts working on the door. “I saw you hadn’t done it yet and I didn’t want you calling any random guys.”

“Because you can do it better. Right?”

He doesn’t look up from his work and just grunts his acknowledgement.

You take the opportunity to move toward the small kitchen area and start making some coffee.

“Coffee?” you offer.

He looks up at you as you lean against the counter with your bare legs on display. His eyes drag down the length of them before he shakes his head no.

“Already had a cup thanks.”

He finishes the lock and puts his tools away before approaching. His hand moves to his back pocket and he pulls out some folded papers, setting them on the counter.

“I brought some take out menus.”

“It’s probably too early to be insulted.”

“This isn’t me telling you not to cook. These are just in case you don’t want to cook.”

“Ah,” you answer. “I could have just looked this up online.”

“Yeah well I don’t have your number so how would you know the best places to get take out.”

You stare at him from over the rim of your steaming mug.

“Maybe you should take it,” he says abruptly. “My number…in case…”

“I need cooking advice again?”

He makes an affirmative nod and smiles.

“Ok, what’s your number?” you ask as you reach for your phone.

The relief on his face doesn’t go unnoticed by you and he recites the digits as you punch them in.

When you hit dial on his contact his eyebrows draw together as if he’s trying to figure out where the sound is coming from.

“That’s you. Now you’ll have my number too.”

You giggle and the corner of his mouth lifts a little. “Right.”

You set your coffee down and push yourself up onto the countertop.

With one more almost imperceptible sweep of your legs he coughs into his fist and turns toward the door.

“Thanks Joel!” you call after him.

He waves with barely a turn and flies down the steps.

The rest of your day is spent figuring out the renovations for the bookshop space downstairs. You clean, declutter, and really start to map things out in your head. By the time the late afternoon sun is setting you realize you’ve missed lunch and you’re starving.

“I should try chili again,” you say to yourself.

After a quick and much less exciting visit to the grocery store you head back with a bag full of Joel’s recommended ingredients and get to work.

Two hours later you have a large pot of bubbling and unburnt chili on the stove.

Without thinking too much into it you snap a picture of the food and send it to Joel with the caption, “I did it! And it smells amazing!”

Before you even put your phone down his response dings in.

“Wow darlin.’ Looks amazing. Save me some.”

You’re about to reply that you definitely will when another text comes through.

“And I’m hoping you didn’t burn anything down?”

He follows it with a silly smiling emoji and you answer with, “nope! Everything and everyone is intact,” including your own smiley face emoji.

“Perfect. And I meant it. Save me some.”

“Please…” you type and then send another message saying, “so bossy!”

He responds quickly. “Save me some. Please.”

He adds a kissy smiley face and you giggle before sending one back with a thumbs up.

It’s easy to flirt over text. You aren’t overwhelmed by his masculine and sexy presence. By the smell of him. Woodsy and spicy. And his hands aren’t there teasing to touch you.

All you can think of while you enjoy your bowl of chili is how you can’t wait for him to come back this weekend.

When Joel returns from his trip he rushes home to shower and change. It’s already late but he needs to see you and you should have a bowl of chili waiting for him.

When he pulls up to the bookshop and parks his pickup he frowns at the darkened space.

Maybe you’re out? With someone…

Pushing the invasive thoughts aside he gets out and walks to the large windows, peering inside.

Nothing.

The scuffle of feet pulls his attention away and he catches sight of you sitting across the street by the park, your feet dangling along the pavement.

He approaches slowly, making noise so you don’t get scared. You look up and tense but instantly relax at the sight of him.

“Was wonderin’ where you were,” he murmurs.

“You’re back,” you say. “I have chili for you.”

You half smile but your eyes fall.

His chest tightens.

“Darlin’?” he asks before sitting down next to you.

His thigh brushes yours and his arm is close enough that you feel his warmth.

Your sniffle and hug your arms around your body.

Hesitantly he lifts his arm and rests it lightly across your shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

When you don’t pull away and instead lean into his strength he tugs you closer.

“I tried to start doing some work on the bookshop. I just wanted to take off the old and peeling wall paper but I think I fucked things up. I’m not sure how to fix it and really I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s a mess.”

Your confession softens him and he runs his calloused fingertips along your smooth skin, sneaking them under the sleeve of your shirt.

“I’ll take a look at it. I’m sure we can fix it.”

You were so soft. It took everything in him not to pull you even closer and wrap you in his arms.

“It’s a mess. I’m a mess. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!”

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t put yourself down. It pisses me off.”

You look up at him and gasp. “You? Pissed off? That’s new.”

The corner of his lips lift and his eyes sparkle. “I deserve that.”

You wipe your nose and give him a smile.

“Maybe. But only a little.”

You lean your head on his shoulder and sigh.

“We’ll sort it out,” he assures you.

You look at him with soft eyes full of gratefulness. His gaze moves lower…to your mouth and his lips part as if to speak but the sound of a loud car horn makes you jump apart.

“How about that chili?” you ask as you start to stand.

“Sounds great darlin’.”

You walk toward the building, tensing at his side the closer you get, knowing he’s going to see the disaster you’ve made.

He stops you with a hand over yours.

“For what it’s worth,” he whispers. “I think you’re really brave for comin’ here to start over.”

The tension slips from your shoulders and you take his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You did it,” you murmur. “I’m still upset but…I feel better. More hopeful.”

He smiles before you turn to unlock the door and your hyperaware of the feel of his hard body behind you. It takes everything in you not to turn around and throw yourself at him but you manage to get the door open and offer him some chili.

The next day, being Sunday, should be a day of rest but your new-found determination has you up and out of bed bright and early, ready to conquer the wallpaper debacle and then some.

You’re saved from wondering where to start when the front door of the shop opens and in walks Joel with a tray of coffee and a bakery bag.

“Hey there darlin’,” he says. “Thought you’d be up and ready to work.”

“Hey back,” you wave.

He fills the doorway with his body and you try to focus on the smell of fresh coffee and sugar.

“That for me?” you ask and point to the tray in his hand.

“Yeah.”

He crosses the small distance and places the tray down on one of the old tables. You reach for the coffee and open the top, inspecting the contents of the cup.

“You know how I take my coffee?” you ask, raising a brow.

“I pay attention,” is all the answer you get.

You stood dumbfounded for a moment until you remembered that you had made coffee the other morning when he fixed the lock on the door upstairs.

“Thank you.”

Your gaze travels to his and there is some kind of silent communication between you. You can’t believe how much he can convey without actually speaking. Your breathing becomes shallower as he continues to look at you and you know, by the determined set of his jaw and confidence simmering in his gaze that things have really shifted.

When he finally pulls his eyes away you let out an audible breath and take a sip of your coffee.

“What’s happening here?” he asks as he looks over the mess of a wall. “You want to get rid of this?”

He moves closer and toys with the wallpaper.

“Yes and then I want to…”

You start rattling off your ideas in a long run-on rambling sentence without taking a break and when you’re finally done you find him eyeing you with both an amused and thoughtful expression.

“Right,” he said. “Well I know a good place to get lumber and all that so we can shop later but for now let’s get this cleaned up.”

He turns and strides for the exit, passing your trash bag from yesterday that was too heavy for you to lift.

“You want this out for pick up?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” you respond.

With zero effort, he tosses the bag over his shoulder and walks out. When he returns he’s carrying his toolbox.

You peer through the window and see his pickup truck and one trip at a time, he brings more supplies and tools.

Grabbing the back of his sweatshirt he drags it up and off, bringing his tee shirt underneath along with it, and you catch a glimpse of what’s beneath.

“Shit,” you mutter.

Now that he’s only in a tee shirt you can see the deep cut of his triceps and forearm muscles every time he lifts or handles something.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“You alright there darlin’?” he asks when he hears your quiet reflections.

“Huh? Me? Oh yeah, just fine thanks. Um…I want to help so just tell me what to do…you know be bossy. You’re good at that.”

He steps closer with a sideways smirk, his warmth coasting over you, and his gaze falls to your mouth, taking it’s time before finding your eyes again.

“Keep ripping that wallpaper down. I know it looks a mess but you’re doing it right.”

The words themselves hold no sensuality at all but the way he says them, the way he leans in close and whispers them along your ear…it sends a shiver right down your spine.

As the days pass you continue to work and make progress on the shop. Some days it’s just you and Joel and other days Tommy joins you both to help. On the days when Joel has to work he gives you detailed instructions on what to do and how to do it. You’re proud of how much you’ve accomplished together but also on your own.

At the end of the week, with the late afternoon sun already making it’s way toward the horizon, you notice the shop is oddly quiet. No sound of the saw or hammer.

“I have something to show you.”

His low and gravelly voice pulls you from your current task of polishing the small table tops and your nerves fire up.

When you stand and walk closer he looks you over from head to toe. You’re covered in dust and your skin is glowing with a light sheen of sweat.

You look down at yourself then back up at him.

“Is it that bad?” you ask with a halfhearted smile.

“You look beautiful.”

He holds his hand out and you take it, letting him pull you toward the back of the shop.

You step behind the last row of bookshelves and stop short.

“Joel…”

The large bay window is now framed by two brand new floor to ceiling dark shelves. The polished wood gleams in the setting sun and every beautiful accent swirl and grain is highlighted.

“It’s amazing! I just…I love it. Thank you!”

He takes the rag from his back pocket and cleans his hands while he watches you from under the dark strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead.

“Glad you like it darlin’.”

“No. I love it Joel. How can I ever thank you.”

“Have dinner with me…and not here…on the floor of the shop like we do some days. A real date.”

You suck in a small breath and curl your fingers together. “Did you think you needed to build me this to convince me to go on a date with you?”

“No,” he says as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I was workin’ up the nerve to ask you and this was a good distraction.”

“Oh…” You say the words and your mouth forms a little ‘o’ shape. “I…I mean…of course. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

He looks down at his feet and nods firmly, a smile playing on his lips. “Alright then.”

He starts to gather and pack up his tools. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six.”

You shake your head yes and realize you’re not speaking and as he turns to walk away you move forward while calling his name.

One second he’s holding the tool box and the next it’s on the ground next to him and he’s turning toward you. Your momentum brings you right into his chest and his arm wraps around your lower back.

He waits for you to speak, his eyes wandering over the features of your face before focusing in on your parted lips. His fingers splayed along your lower back dig into your skin and he tugs you closer as he dips his head.

Your palms land flat on his hard chest and slowly dance upward along his broad shoulders.

“Thank you.”

The words are just a whisper but you manage to get them passed your lips and he looks like he’s about to speak but instead covers your mouth with his.

The kiss is worshipful but you can feel his restraint in the tense and flexing muscles of his body and your fingers find purchase at the back of his neck and comb through his hair.

His hand slides up your back and he presses you closer as he lifts the other to cup your jaw. The callouses on the pad of his thumb scrape deliciously across your soft skin and he moans like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

When the need for air finally takes over he releases your mouth just long enough to look into your eyes before he dives back in, stealing your breath all over again.

The door to the shop opens, the newly installed bell atop it ringing loud and clear through your kiss filled haze.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Tommy says sheepishly when he appears by the window.

Joel breaks the kiss, his chest heaving with harsh breaths and he stares at your mouth for a few long moments while you cling to him. His hand eventually drops away from your back and his fingers trace along your jaw and then down your neck to pull your ear to his lips.

“Tomorrow night,” he murmurs. “Six.”

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @lizette50 @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #bookshop

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coffeeshades · 2 months ago

Text

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART VIII

— i love you, it’s ruining my life

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). angst!!! cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hello besties, here's the next part!! happy reading <3

masterlist!

Pedro hadn’t expected his career to take another sharp turn so soon after The Mandalorian. The call he received that night in January, while lying in a dimly lit hotel room in London, still felt unreal. Hazy, thanks to the Ambien coursing through him, but real enough to make him sit up in bed after the line went dead.

Something big was coming, and he could feel it in his bones. It would change everything—if things weren’t already good enough as they were.

A few weeks later, he was back in London to film The Bubble. Everything seemed to blur by—filming, meetings, and the quiet rhythm of his life with Julia. He hadn't expected to fall into a relationship so effortlessly, but here he was.

She was a producer he’d met during a project in Budapest, though nothing had happened between them until months later.

Late November, to be exact. By then, things had shifted.

Pedro was never good at deciphering if someone liked him or not, and maybe that was why, when she suggested coffee, he didn’t think twice. She was lovely—kind in a way that didn't feel overwhelming, and he liked the way it felt safe, uncomplicated. When she reached for his hand, the world didn’t spin beneath his feet, and that was comforting. It was normal, and maybe that’s exactly what he needed.

After that first coffee, there were more—turning into casual dinners, casual sex, easy conversations, and eventually, a steady progression toward something more.

By December, things had gotten serious, though Pedro still sometimes woke up disoriented, feeling as if he was living in someone else’s life. Julia kept him grounded. And though it wasn’t the kind of love that made him lose his breath, it was steady.

One morning, in early December, he woke to find a message from you. You’d mentioned him in an upcoming Vogue interview, a brief nod to his help in keeping you sane during those first chaotic months of the pandemic. Your publicist thought it might make a fuss for a while, and you didn’t want him to wake up and think someone had died or something.

Nothing too big, P, just the usual storm. Call when you’re back in the States. Miss you.

Pedro stared at the message for a long time, debating. You’d always known everything about him. Every high, every low. But now? There was Julia to consider. He sat on the edge of the bed, Julia still asleep next to him, the London sky a dull gray through the curtains. He’d thought about telling you about her for weeks—maybe he should’ve before New Year’s—but it was easier to let the conversation slip away.

Until it didn’t.

That night, at Oscar’s New Year’s party, when you found out about Julia, he could see it in your eyes—the hurt, the shock, the confusion. You didn’t say much after that. Just told him you hoped he was happy, and if he was, that would be enough.

But it didn’t feel enough.

Not then, not now.

•••

Back in London, the routine of it all began to suffocate him. He spent his mornings reading lines, drinking bitter coffee, and answering the inevitable buzz of questions about his relationship status. He didn’t care to comment. He didn’t want to make it official in a way that felt like another announcement to the world. His job was to act, not live his life on a stage. Still, the headlines rolled out, and his relationship with Julia became another topic of conversation.

The days passed in a blur, but something bothered him. You had gone silent. Completely. Not only from his life but from social media, from the public eye, from everywhere. He called on your birthday. Oscar had mentioned you hadn't planned anything for the day, not that he knew off, and Pedro found himself standing on the cold balcony of his hotel room, dialing your number with a strange urgency.

You picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Your voice sounded far away, thin and almost unfamiliar, like a melody he had forgotten.

“Hey.”

There was a beat of silence, a pause where recognition should have clicked into place. Instead, you sounded distant, hesitant.

“Oh. It’s you.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. Did you delete my number?”

A soft shuffle on the other end, like you were shifting in place, caught off guard. “No, uh, I just picked it up without looking who it was.”

He leaned against the railing, gripping the phone tighter as if it could bridge the distance between you. The cold metal beneath his fingers bit into his skin, grounding him, though your absence felt like it was growing by the second. "Happy birthday, mi amor."

“Thank you, Pedro.”

The way you said his name, the clipped tone, made something stir in his gut, but he shook it off.

“You doing anything? I heard you didn’t have plans.”

“Nothing really, maybe over the weekend,” you replied, but there was a softness in your voice that didn't match the words, like you were choosing them carefully, holding something back. “I know you’re in London; that’s why I didn’t—”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t call,” he interrupted, leaning against the cold railing. His free hand found his hair, fingers tugging at the strands, trying to steady the unease creeping in. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been... You know how it is.”

Another long pause. For a moment, all he heard was the faint rustling on the other end, like you were curled up somewhere small, the space between you both stretching impossibly wide. He didn’t notice the silence for what it was—didn’t notice the way it wrapped around your words, cloaking the pain underneath.

“I do,” you whispered. It wasn’t an agreement; it was resignation. "Listen, I have to go. Say hi to Julia for me."

You hung up quickly, the words leaving him cold. The last part stung in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Days turned into weeks, and though you stayed in touch here and there, your conversations felt different. Lighter. Less personal. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did. The less he tried to think about you, the more you occupied his thoughts, living in the corners of his mind where you had always been. It felt like torture, the way your presence always lingered even in your absence.

When Pedro finally posted about landing the role of Joel Miller, the flood of congratulations came pouring in, but only one comment left him reeling.

So happy for you!!! You’re gonna kill it.

It was from you. Simple, encouraging, and yet it twisted something inside him.

His birthday arrived not long after, and he found himself back in LA, where his friends greeted him with a backyard party under the stars. Sarah held a cake with a single candle, and as everyone cheered, Pedro smiled, but there was an immovable weight in his chest.

Later that night, after the crowd had dispersed, he and Julia escaped upstairs to his room. They ended up half-dressed, tangled on his unmade bed. She smiled at him afterward, her gaze hazy with affection. “Happy birthday,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest.

Pedro wanted to stay in that moment, to let it be enough, but his mind wandered. He had that feeling of wanting to be trapped in one place, wanting to dig his heels in. It didn’t need to matter that that reality was waiting for him outside the door. It didn’t need to matter that you hadn’t called.

April 11, 2021

London, England

Pedro’s mood had been darkening for weeks now, but if Julia had noticed, she didn’t say a word.

She’d taken on a slew of new projects, coming home late most nights, leaving him to his thoughts and the silence that clung to their flat like fog. Pedro found himself pacing the empty rooms when she was gone, unsure where to place himself in her absence. He felt the weight of insomnia closing in again, the recognizable ache behind his eyes making the hours stretch painfully long.

That day, however, his focus had shifted. He was set to present Best Foreign Film at the BAFTAs, and his stylist had dressed him in a Prada tuxedo coat, a crisp white shirt, and skinny-fitting suit trousers. He looked sharp, elegant even, and for the first time in days, Pedro felt something close to confidence.

He and Julia arrived at the event together, but they didn’t pose for pictures side by side. Still, photographers captured fleeting moments—Julia holding his hand as they stepped out of the car, a quiet laugh between them under the canopy of flashing cameras. By the next morning, their images were all over social media, sparking the inevitable buzz about their relationship.

Pedro ignored most of it.

Two days later, while sharing a quiet breakfast in a cafe with Julia, he opened Instagram out of habit, and your face appeared.

There you were, standing in the middle of some forest, your expression serene. The caption read: Surprise. A new album drops at midnight. In isolation, my imagination ran wild, and this is the result—stories and songs that flowed like rivers. I hope you love it.

The post had already gathered thousands of likes and comments, and Pedro’s chest tightened as he stared at the screen. The timing of it all was almost cruel, but it was the impact of your sudden reappearance that left him reeling. You had vanished from the public eye for so long, and now, with no warning, you were back.

That night, Pedro lay awake next to Julia, the persistent itch of insomnia dragging him out of bed. He moved quietly so as not to disturb her, slipping his earbuds in as he stepped onto the hotel balcony. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled up your new album. He hesitated for a moment, but he pressed play anyway.

For ten songs, Pedro was transfixed. Your voice wrapped around him, haunting and familiar, weaving tales of heartache and isolation. There was a rawness to your words, an unflinching honesty that pierced through the midnight air. He listened intently, picking apart the lyrics, wondering if they were about him, if the pain you sang about was shared between you. It felt like an open wound, and yet he couldn’t stop listening.

Each song was a confession. Each melody a letter never sent.

When it ended, Pedro sat in the dark, overwhelmed. The emptiness gnawed at him, and all he wanted was to call you, to talk, to hear your voice. But he didn’t.

A couple of weeks later, he found himself shamelessly googling you again, hoping for something—an interview, a post, anything—but there was nothing. You had gone silent after the album drop.

No promo, no press. Just the music and then nothing. He congratulated you once, a brief message saying how beautiful the album was. You replied with a simple, “Thank you. It means a lot.”

That was it.

July 10, 2021

Alberta, Canada

Pedro arrived in Alberta at dawn, the skies painted in soft hues of pink and orange. The cab ride to the hotel was quiet, his agent and hairstylist riding with him as they prepared for the long months ahead. Filming for The Last of Us was finally starting, and though Pedro was eager to begin, a deep nervousness tugged at him.

Julia hadn’t come with him this time, staying back in London for her own work. She promised to visit, but Pedro wasn’t sure how often. In her absence, he felt that familiar loneliness creeping in, the kind that terrified him, mostly because it left him alone with thoughts of you.

He checked into his room and sat heavily on the sofa, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes until his vision blurred. He needed to eat, to call his family, to ground himself in something, but instead, he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and settled back into the couch. His fingers hovered over his phone again, the compulsion to check your Instagram pulling at him like a bad habit.

But, like always, there was nothing.

Your only other post had been a month ago, thanking your fans for the love on the album. He had messaged you a couple of times—small, inconsequential exchanges that left him unsatisfied. He didn’t know what he was searching for in those brief interactions, but whatever it was, it felt futile.

Then, ten minutes later, like a sign from the universe, you shared an interview. A video with you talking about your creative process. Pedro couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed his laptop, another beer, and settled in.

As he watched, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You looked radiant, sitting across from the interviewer in the backyard of your California home. The conversation was easy at first, touching on the album’s success, but then it turned more personal.

"The pandemic was really rough, and also life in general, I guess," you said, your voice quiet. "I found myself post-breakup, isolated in a cabin in Calgary, and writing was all I had. But the inspiration wasn’t just from that breakup. It came from years of… things."

The interviewer asked gently, "You mean the breakup with your most recent ex specifically?"

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes dropping for a second. "It wasn’t entirely about that. I pulled a lot from my imagination, I guess. The lines between fantasy and reality blurred, and I found myself writing from perspectives that weren’t always mine."

Pedro’s heart clenched.

"There’s a song on the album," he continued, "the final track. It’s haunting. You sing about being hurt by someone you love but being unable to let them go. Can you talk about that?"

You paused, taking a breath before you spoke. "It’s a quiet resignation," you said. "That person and I, we hurt each other, but I love them. So, I guess that’s it. It felt like the right way to end the album."

Pedro’s world stilled. He realized, in that moment, what he had been searching for all this time. He had wanted confirmation, a sign that you still loved him. And with every word you spoke, you gave it to him.

Filming for The Last of Us began a couple of days later, and though Pedro threw himself into the work, your voice lingered, ghost-like, at the back of his mind. Days turned to weeks, and as production moved into September, the physical toll started to wear on him. He spent long hours on set; the Canadian cold started biting into his bones. Bella, his co-star, became a bright spot, their energy infectious, and though they bonded quickly, Pedro felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.

In the early mornings, when the world was still asleep, he would take walks to clear his head, the cold sunlight grounding him. Julia came to visit now and then, joining him on these walks, but they often ran out of things to say. He could feel the quiet disintegration of their relationship, like watching ice slowly melt into water. He didn’t know what they were holding onto anymore.

•••

When October rolled around, Pedro’s schedule clashed with the start of The Mandalorian’s third season, and it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to join the production on time. His agents scrambled to find a solution, but when Pedro’s stunt double was suggested as a replacement for the early scenes, he was left with an odd sense of detachment. And when his agent told him it had been your suggestion, something in him cracked.

The anger simmered for weeks. He felt foolish and abandoned, wondering if you had pushed him away to keep your distance. But then, just as the resentment began to harden, you showed up on set with two coffees in hand, flashing him a smile. "One iced caramel macchiato for me and one large quad over ice for you," you teased.

Pedro blinked, startled. He hadn’t expected your warmth. "Thanks," he managed, taking the coffee.

"You’re welcome," you replied brightly. "We missed you here."

"Did you?" he said, a hint of sarcasm slipping into his tone. "Because I heard it was your idea to keep me away."

Your expression twisted into confusion before you laughed. "I was just trying to make things easier. You were still filming, and I figured rushing back here would be a nightmare for you. I wasn’t plotting anything."

Pedro felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with the faintest trace of regret. "Well, in that case, I missed you too."

•••

For two seasons, your character hadn't seen his without the helmet. Today you were shooting the scene where, out of necessity, he reveals his face to you. It was written as a pivotal moment in your characters' relationship.

The moment the director called action, the air on set felt different. It wasn’t the usual hum of crew members shuffling in the background or the low murmur of cameras whirring. Instead, a heavy, almost sacred quiet descended, blanketing everyone as the scene unfolded. Pedro’s mind mirrored that stillness, a sudden and unnerving hush. It felt like everything outside of this moment ceased to exist, like time itself had bent inward.

And then—nothing. No words. No script. Just you, standing so close to him, your face inches from his, hands cradling his jaw.

You widened your eyes, a silent prompt, urging him to speak, to remember his lines. But all he could do was stare. He hadn’t been this close to you in months, hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch or the soft presence of your breath in what felt like a lifetime. His throat tightened, his words trapped somewhere deep inside. He knew the scene needed to move forward, but for one fragile moment, all he wanted was to keep you there, locked in this pocket of stillness, as if holding onto you would stop everything else from slipping away.

You read him, like you always did. You settled in, your hands still on his face, fingers pressing gently into his skin as if anchoring him. Then, softly, you filled the silence with a line—one that Pedro was sure wasn’t in the script, but it was perfect. You carried the scene, leading him back into it, your voice becoming the tether that pulled him out of the stillness and into motion. Pedro blinked, refocusing, forcing his body and mind to follow your lead as he finally delivered his line.

The scene moved on, but something lingered, thick and unsaid.

When filming wrapped for the day, the tension still simmered. You caught him at the edge of the lot, your expression unreadable as you approached him. Maybe you'll ask him why he froze like an idiot during that scene, or maybe you'll just walk past him without a word.

Instead, you simply asked, "Dinner?"

Pedro couldn’t say no. He never could when it came to you.

You ended up at a small sushi restaurant tucked away from the chaos of the city. The space was warm, softly lit, a sanctuary from the noise of the outside world. Pedro sat across from you, picking at a piece of sashimi, trying to focus on the conversation but finding it hard. You talked about the year you’d spent away from the spotlight and how you’d pulled back from everything.

"I mean, I’m doing this because I signed a contract," you said, lightly joking, but your eyes flickered with something that gave you away. "Disney has snipers; you know how it is."

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Pedro chuckled, though he could hear the sadness in your voice, the weight behind your words.

"If I could’ve gotten out of it too, I would have," you added, your tone quieter, more reflective. "I guess I just needed to slow down. I’m tired of it all."

"You even skipped the Oscars," Pedro replied, taking a sip of his drink. "That's how you know it's serious."

"Yeah, I love the Oscars. Excellent champagne."

Pedro watched you closely, wanting to dig into your words to pull apart the layers of exhaustion and sadness you were burying beneath the surface. He wanted to offer you some kind of comfort, to tell you that he understood—that he, too, had been feeling the weight of it all. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, the two of you ate in silence, the kind of quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable but spoke volumes.

There was something about being with you, even without words, that felt…right.

Later, as he lay in bed, his mind kept returning to you, to your confession. He wondered what you weren’t telling him, what you were holding back. But as much as he wanted to reach out to ask, he couldn't.

The next morning, Pedro was on a flight back to Canada. The weeks that followed blurred into a rhythm of cold, grueling days on set and long, sleepless nights. He threw himself into The Last of Us, trying to lose himself in the work, but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you crept back in. You were there, always, lingering in the corners of his mind, and Julia could sense it.

She didn’t say anything at first, but Pedro could feel it—the slow unraveling of their relationship. It wasn’t sudden, like a crash or an explosion; it was quiet, a gradual dissolution. Every day, a little more slipped away. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from this relationship, from this life they had built together. Did he think they would buy a house, start a family? Had he ever really seen himself in this life with her, or was it just easier to disappear into hers?

Finally, Julia said it. Brightly, almost too casually. "I think maybe we’re done."

Pedro didn’t fight it. He didn’t have the energy. "Yeah," he murmured. "I think that was my fault."

•••

Christmas and New Year’s came and went in a blur. Pedro went to Chile for a few weeks, seeking the comfort of home, of family. There, surrounded by his siblings and nephews, he found a brief pause, a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a while. But even in the warmth of his childhood home, memories of you still haunted him. He saw you in every corner, heard your laughter in the echo of the hallways.

One night, after too many glasses of wine, he called you on a whim. It wasn’t about anything important—just small talk, catching up. You sounded good, better than the last time you spoke, but there was a distance in your voice, a kind of finality that made Pedro’s heart sink. For some reason, he didn’t tell you about his breakup. He kept that part of his life hidden, not out of secrecy but because it felt irrelevant at that moment.

What would it change? What did it matter?

You didn’t talk much after that. Your silence felt deliberate, not like a missed connection but a closed door. It was as if you were telling him, without saying it outright, that this was where it ended.

In the days that followed, Pedro did his best to push you out of his mind, but it didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep back in. They always did. Anger. Sadness. Regret. They whispered in his ear, insidious and unrelenting, reminding him of what he had lost, of what he could never quite hold on to.

February 7, 2022

Los Angeles, California

The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-packed, with clothes spilling over the edges like an unspoken reflection of your mind. Each item you folded and placed inside felt heavy, as if carrying pieces of the last year with you. Taylor sat cross-legged in the chair by the window, scrolling through her phone while talking, but her words barely reached you over the noise in your head.

“I’m surprised you said yes, that’s all,” she said, her voice light with curiosity. “You’ve basically been a hermit for a year now.”

You laughed softly, your hands smoothing over the fabric of a sweater. “I needed the break, you know that. ”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push yet. You were grateful for the acceptance, even if you knew she was waiting to bring it up again, the same way she always did.

“One day, you’ll tell me what really happened,” Taylor continued, her voice taking on a familiar teasing edge. “You'll tell me what had you sulking at home like a sad Victorian poet for a whole year.”

You folded another shirt and placed it in the suitcase before responding, “I’ve told you countless times. Nothing happened other than…he got a girlfriend, and I stayed out of the way. That’s it.”

Taylor squinted at you as if she didn’t quite believe it, her eyes narrowing with the kind of suspicion only a close friend could afford to show. “Aha,” she said slowly, drawing out the sound.

You rolled your eyes but smiled.

“I wasn't sulking,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light. “I was…relaxing. It was my year of rest and relaxation.”

She chuckled at that. “Good one, smarty pants."

Outside, a breeze rustled through the palm trees, carrying the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of LA traffic. You imagined the street below, the shuffling of photographers leaning against their cars, lighting cigarettes, and murmuring to each other. They had become a permanent fixture, appearing gradually over the months, staking out your house like ghosts waiting for you to return to life.

It never ceased to surprise you how much people cared about what you did off-screen. You couldn’t just let your work stand for itself. No, you had to prove yourself over and over again, reminding the world that you were still an asset, still someone worth admiring.

You shrugged, half-smiling, but there was something sad in it. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m only doing this because I've been dying to work with this director, and it’s a closed set. Once those eight weeks are up, it’s back to my hermit status.”

Taylor shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “So we’re missing the Oscars again this year?”

You threw a pair of socks at her, chuckling. “Seems like it.”

But inside, everything wasn’t as lighthearted as your words. Last year, you’d taken a step back from the spotlight, and while you didn’t want to attribute it to the hurt you were feeling over Pedro, the truth was, it had everything to do with him. Well, at least a huge chunk of it. It hurt not to have him. It hurt to see someone else kiss him, hold his hand so freely, so easily. The pain wrapped itself around you like a second skin.

The world expected you to bounce back, to emerge from this self-imposed exile with a smile and a perfect soundbite. But the truth was messier. You had spent a year nursing a heart that hadn’t fully healed. You loved Pedro in a way that still hurt, in a way that sometimes made you feel like a child who didn’t understand why they couldn’t have the one thing they wanted most. You wanted to be the bigger person, the one who could let him go gracefully, but instead, you had hidden.

You were blue all the time. Some days were okay; some days you barely got out of bed.

There were moments it felt paralyzing. The weight of the world outside your window, the expectations, the love you still felt for him—all of it crushed you. Some days, you simply couldn’t move. You stayed curled up in the safety of your blankets, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before someone intervened. Your PA was that someone.

She didn’t push you at first. She’d just knock on your door, leave food outside, and ask if you needed anything. You’d spent three weeks in your room, moving only to get water or occasionally sit by the window.

One afternoon, Renata came in and found you in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. She placed a sandwich she brought on the counter and looked at you, her voice careful, but firm. “You need to talk to someone.”

“I’m talking to you,” you replied simply, taking a sip of water.

“No, you know what I mean. A professional. It’s okay if you don’t feel…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

“I’m fine,” you said, starting to walk toward the stairs.

“You’re not going to eat?” she called after you.

“Not hungry, but thanks,” you mumbled, disappearing into your room again.

But Renata didn’t let it go. She pushed gently, week after week, until finally, you let her schedule an appointment. She promised not to say anything to anyone, especially Taylor. You didn’t want to worry her.

The word depression had seemed too big to say aloud, too heavy, but that’s exactly the word your psychiatrist had used.

“You’ll need to take these every morning,” he said, handing you a small prescription bottle. “And it would be good to write how you feel. Keep track of things.”

You sat there, legs crossed in an oversized chair, staring at the prescription bottle in your hand.

•••

You watched from the sidelines as Pedro continued to rise, landing roles in The Last of Us, becoming the face everyone adored. You were thrilled for him, of course, but the distance between you felt insurmountable.

The only interaction you had was through a comment on his Instagram post, and even then, you weren’t sure if it meant anything. You didn't dare to call him on his birthday; you didn't want to stain his day with sadness. Every time you looked at your phone, tears threatened to spill. You felt as if the moment he spoke into the phone, you might collapse.

He's better off; he might not even notice.

The album you dropped in the spring had been a release of every emotion you hadn’t been able to speak aloud. Each song was laced with love and loss, heartbreak and longing; every note was a confession you’d never let yourself voice. You wondered if he listened to it—if the lyrics registered with him, if he knew they were about him.

That same week, you saw photos of him in London, holding her hand. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

The months passed in a blur of avoidance. You busied yourself at home with anything you could find that didn’t involve thinking about him. You did the one interview your publicist insisted on. It was with Zane Lowe; you liked him, so it was mostly okay. You found yourself talking about the songs you wrote during that time. As you listened to your own words, you realized that the music had given you a voice when you felt silenced by heartache.

It was a bittersweet realization.

By October, filming for The Mandalorian had loomed on the horizon, and when you found out Pedro was still tied up in Canada, you suggested beginning production without him. It felt easier that way, like a reprieve. But when he finally arrived on set, the connection between you two still crackled beneath the surface. There was an unspoken understanding in the way he looked at you during that intense scene—the one where your character saw his face for the first time. He froze, and you wondered what was running through his mind—what thoughts had stopped him from continuing.

You hesitated, but after the scene wrapped, you found yourself asking him to dinner. It was a slippery slope. You could pretend you were okay all you wanted in the brief moments between takes, offering coffee and smiles, but no one saw right through you like him.

Still, you asked. It was a small gesture, just a way to extend the fragile thread of connection between you, to hold onto him for a little longer before he left again.

But you’d learned how to stay in your lane. You’d learned how to love him from a distance, how to let him be happy with someone else. It was an act of love, really—letting him go, stepping aside to give him the space to live a life that didn’t include you. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Taylor’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Do you think you could be a hermit in Greece next? I could use a vacation.”

May 29, 2022

Los Angeles, California

Between promoting The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and wrapping up the final scenes of The Last of Us in Canada, he had little time to do, well, anything else really.

It was late May, just after the Star Wars Celebration. He’d worn a blue two-piece set that felt more like pajamas than anything formal, which was fine by him. Comfort was the priority these days.

But something was missing. You. You hadn’t been there. Out of everyone from the cast, you were the only one absent, and that absence settled like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

"She’s just taking time off," he’d tell himself, repeating the words like a mantra. “She’s probably busy; she's okay.” But the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave him alone.

Pedro had even caved one evening, calling Taylor. It had been late, after a full day of press, his voice rough from interviews and late-night whiskey. He had only meant for it to be one drink. But then he thinks back to the fact that you've plagued his dreams every night this week and that there was a song he kept hearing repeatedly that reminded him of you, and one drink had turned to three, and now here he is.

“Taylor?” He had sounded more vulnerable than he intended. “Is she... I mean, everything’s okay, right?”

Taylor had reassured him, of course, her voice patient, telling him you were fine, that you just were busy. Pedro wanted to believe her, but it gnawed at him. Something felt off.

He still woke up some mornings with the urge to tell you something, a joke he heard or a weird dream he had.

•••

By August he found himself in Spain, the arid heat of the desert sinking into his skin as filming for Strange Way of Life began. The project felt like a strange departure—something raw and gritty, something that required his full attention—but even then, in quiet moments between takes, his mind wandered. He’d sit in his trailer, his phone in hand, thumb hovering over your contact name, but the messages stayed unsent.

The days passed in a blur of rehearsals, early morning call times, and late-night script revisions. He spent his downtime with Ethan, exchanging stories over beers. But there was a quietness to Pedro that hadn’t been there before—a missing piece of him he couldn’t quite place.

•••

November 22, 2022

Miami, Florida

The night was sweltering; even by late fall standards, the air was thick and humid. Pedro was grinning, wearing a loose-fitting animal print shirt that made him feel playful, like he was stepping into some exaggerated version of himself for the evening. Lux was by his side, vibrant as always, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses as they arrived at a wine event.

But it didn’t take long for Lux to notice the shadow that hung over him.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, side-eyeing him as they sipped their drinks by the bar.

“I’ve been busy,” Pedro answered vaguely, swirling his glass and watching the amber liquid catch the light.

“Sure,” Lux replied, smirking. “And when are you both going to stop being idiots? It’s getting tiresome, hermanito.”

Pedro nearly choked on his drink, laughing in surprise. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Lux’s voice was matter-of-fact, cutting through his defenses with that typical bluntness only siblings could pull off. “You and her. It’s obvious. To everyone.”

Pedro sighed, leaning back against the bar, the Miami night buzzing around them. “It’s not that simple.”

Lux raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re both so afraid of what might happen that you’re stuck in this limbo. It’s ridiculous. Why let it get this bad?”

Pedro stared into his glass, her words echoing in his head.

"Because I love her," Pedro finally admitted, his voice quieter, weighed down by the truth. He stared down at his drink, swirling the ice around the glass. "I love her so much I’m willing to let her go."

Lux didn’t say anything.

Pedro shook his head, a bitter smile playing at his lips. "I would only hold her back. I know her so well. She’d sacrifice things just to be with me, and I can’t let her do that. I would only hold her back. She deserves so much better."

Lux tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And what if what she wants is you? What if she’s out there feeling the same way, thinking she’s the one who isn’t good enough for you? Do you ever think about that?”

Pedro let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "Of course I’ve thought about it. Every day. But what if I’m wrong? What if she gives up things she shouldn’t for me? I can’t let her do that, Lux."

Lux leaned in closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Maybe it’s not your decision to make. Maybe she deserves the choice. Don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant to assume what’s best for her without even asking?"

Pedro met her gaze, feeling exposed. “I just... I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want to ruin her life.”

Lux smiled, but it wasn’t pitying. It was knowing, soft around the edges. "You’re not ruining anything by loving her. But keeping it to yourself? That’s where the damage is, hermanito. You think you’re protecting her, but all you’re doing is pushing her away. And trust me, that hurts more than anything else."

He had always been so afraid of losing you, so terrified of not being enough, that he hadn’t even realized how much distance he had created.

Lux’s voice softened again, the words cutting through the noise in his mind. "She deserves better, Pedro? Maybe. But who says you don’t deserve her, too?"

a/n: please like, reblog and comment! i love reading your thoughts!! next part will be posted in a bit ;) aaaand something might be happening ;)

#pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #my writing #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #love is complicated fic

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nikka-v · 4 months ago

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Chemistry- Pedro Pascal x fem! Reader smut

Summary: You are at winter holiday with your boyfriend Tom. But when you meet older man called Pedro, your whole life changes.

Warnings: nsfw, swearing?, smut, shower smut, oral (fem! receiving), age gap! (reader is in her 20s), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), cheating, Pedro and Tom are not famous

Minors DNI, please!!

It is such a long time since I have written something. This is not proofread but I hope you will not find any big mistakes as English is not my first language. This imagine is based on my favourite movie and I just had to write it even though it took me really long time. Enjoy! 🤍

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You did not plan this. Cheating was never your option when you thought about it but let's be honest, your relationship with Tom was not exactly prospering as one would say. You liked him a lot, maybe a little bit of love was still in there but it was not as when you began. He was not a rich guy, but he was a nice, real gentleman and always supported you, no matter what but sometimes he was just a bit too much of a homebody but not in a bad way of course.

You first met him when you were nineteen through your friends. He immediately caught your eye and your friends managed to get you to hang out. Tom was working at this little bistro as a cook so it was a minimum wage job but he always managed to get you nice things or flowers and always thought about your future together, such as getting an apartment together or a little house. It lasted four years before you met Pedro, four years during which you loved Tom dearly, but it just was not meant to be, well at least that's what you told yourself that day when you first saw him.

Three years ago

It was only the second day of your long-awaited holiday in a Ski resort which was few hours from New York where you lived with your mom in an apartment. You first noticed the extremely charismatic man in the hotel restaurant where he was sitting just a few tables away from you with this charming smirk on his face. He was already looking at you and raised his glass a little as if he was cheering for you. Tom was just reading some article in the newspapers that the waitress gave him, he always preferred to read them on paper and not on his phone, so he was not paying you much attention which you definitely did not mind. The hot stranger waved at the waitress to bring him a bottle of champagne, opening it by himself and pretending that the cork fell on his head which made you laugh a little so you looked at Tom quickly who just looked up.

"I am happy that you think that it is a ridiculous price as well. Really, we would both have to find another job if we wanted a car like that," he said, thinking that you were laughing at the price of a new BMW car which was just released. You could not then look at the man again as Tom put down the newspapers and finished his coffee while talking to you about hitting the slopes later.

When you were leaving the restaurant you turned around quickly to smile at the stranger and before Tom could notice you turned to the exit, leaving the hottest man you've ever seen behind, hoping to see him again.

Your hopes did not take long to happen because when you went snowboarding, you saw him in a bar which was under one of the cableways, sitting in a lounger with a golden retriever right next to him, a glass of champagne in one hand and a book in the other one. But he noticed you immediately as well and as you discretely waved at him, he almost fell off the lounger because he wanted to wave back but you were already behind him.

That day you saw him once again as you went to your room with Tom from dinner. If you walked a little slower you would have missed him but luckily (for you, definitely not for Tom) he stopped the elevator to let you step in.

"We are good, we can wait for the next one," Tom said, frowning a little at the older man who had once again a cheeky grin on his face and his eyes were jumping between you and Tom.

"Okay then," he said, shrugging his shoulders a little and selecting his floor. You looked at Tom and then at the man, deciding if you should do something and after a quick thought, you caught the closing door to stop it.

"No, we will not wait. Floor six," you said resolutely and stepped inside, smelling a really nice cologne with a distant smell of cigarettes which worked together amazingly.

"Hello there." the man smiled at Tom, clearly with a provocative undertone but Tom was not easily provoked so he ignored it, or maybe he just did not hear it there.

"Good afternoon." he only said politely, ignoring his presence as much as he could. You, on the other hand, were not capable of ignoring him. He was standing just a few centimetres away from you, and you unknowingly brushed your shoulder over his.

"They definitely need to change the menu for the next days or I will start protesting. You in?" the man looked at you with a laugh, making you giggle as you quickly nodded.

"Of course, I will be your partner in crime. I am y/n." Tom almost invisibly shook his head but stayed quiet even when you shook the man's hand.

"Pedro," he said with a cheeky smile that rarely left his lips. You almost felt how tense Tom was behind you before the elevator stopped and you all stepped out, clearly having rooms nearby. Tom quickly walked towards the door of your room and you saw the man stopping in the room just next to you.

"Sleep well my partners in crime!" the stranger called to which Tom just rolled his eyes.

"Night," he murmured, just to be polite and disappeared into your room but you looked at the man once again.

"Bye." he planted a little kiss on the card from his room and waved it to you as if he was sending it to you which made your stomach drop a little.

"Goodbye, sir," you said, flirtation clearly detectable from your voice so you got inside with a little smile on your lips.

"That is such a weird man," Tom said as he laid on the bed and looked at his phone which he left there before.

"Come on, don't be rude, he was friendly and proper fun." you tried to be supportive of the stranger but the only reaction you got from Tom was him rolling his eyes and getting up to take a shower. You meanwhile changed into an oversized shirt in which you usually slept and jumped to the bed with a phone in your hand just to answer a message from your best friend who you quickly informed about the handsome stranger. You knew you could have trusted her with your life and that she would not tell Tom about your, at that time, silly little crush.

When Tom got out of the shower, you were already half asleep but he did not even care as he fell asleep without a word. That was not surprising, your relationship was not doing so well for some time and you rarely even touched each other.

The next morning you were rudely awakened by a church bell, 6 am was like midnight for you so it only made sense that you moaned out loud in frustration, well for you it made sense, for Tom it was annoying and he abruptly turned his back at you and hugged more his pillow.

"Why are you awake? Go to sleep," he murmured, making you frown.

"How can I when this is happening?" you sat up but the men next to you completely ignored your rhetorical question and fell asleep instead. You rolled your eyes, standing up and only in your oversized t-shirt and took one of the blankets to put it around yourself, walking out of the room to a small terrace, where you took a deep breath and rudely looked at the church. You stood there for like a minute before you looked at the next balcony where you saw the mystery man standing.

"Good morning." you smiled at him and leaned over the railing a little bit, almost as if you wanted to get closer to him even though there were like two meters between your balconies.

"Well, hello." he smiled at you and lightened up a cigarette.

"So I see that the bells also woke you up," you said with annoyance clearly detectable in your voice.

"Look I get it, they wanna praise God and love him but why don't they do it somehow differently? I work in an advertisement company, I get it that it may bring people to churches but why don't they choose a different method?" he said enthusiastically and made you laugh with that. "Billboards, social media posts or some spots on TV. Maybe even a hot air balloon that looks like Jesus, but ringing bells on Sunday morning, that is crazy!" he exaggerated and you knew he was just joking and it really made you laugh.

"So you work in an advertisement?" you asked after a few seconds of quiet, not letting the conversation stop.

"Yeah, I create slogans for companies," he said with cigarettes between his lips. Just as you wanted to say something back to him, you heard barking from his room. "Come on Luca, wait a minute, we will go." he looked into his room, talking with the dog that you saw sitting with him under the cableway. "Sorry, I have to go walk Luca."

You quickly turned around and looked to your room where Tom was still sleeping as if it was the middle of the night.

"Wait!" you whispered loudly and saw how the man looked from his room, curious about what you wanted. "Can I come with you?" you asked boldly, not knowing what to expect.

"Sure, of course." he smiled and before you knew it you were walking out of the hotel with him and his dog. Luca was jumping around you, clearly excited to be outside in the snow. "And, you are here alone?"

"Not completely, I am here with Luca." Luca barked as if he understood, making you smile lightly.

"I don't understand how can you be here just with a dog. I would be crying myself to sleep every day." it was nice, talking to someone who was not mad when you spoke what was on your mind.

"I mean, everyone is alone at the end when you think about it." the way he spoke, made you smile even though he said something so sad.

"And why are you here alone?" you didn't hesitate to ask, turning so you were walking in front of him but looking at him at the same time.

"Well, I broke up with my girlfriend. But I am not sad or mad about it, it was bound to happen from the start." he kneeled to hug Luca to probably show that he was okay with that all.

"I can't imagine being here without the partner that you were supposed to come here with," you said but kneeled as well to pet the golden retriever. It was so easy to speak to him, that is why you did not understand why after almost an hour of an amazing conversation he just disappeared for the next few days.

You were looking for him at his usual spot in the bar under cableway, in the restaurant during dinner but it was as if he vanished. It took you almost three days before you chose to try a different pub on the hill. That is where you found him, standing on the terrace with a glass of wine in his hand and Luca lying next to him. You stood next to him and just looked at him before looking away for a second.

"Where the hell have you been for those three days?" you asked, not caring if that was too bald, but honestly the chemistry between you was so readable during the walk that you just did not want to believe that he did not feel it.

Nothing. He stayed quiet and looked through his glass of wine before he drank a little. But you did not let that confuse you.

"I said, where have you been those three days?" you repeated with a cheeky little smile on your lips. Now he looked at you and took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Truthful or socially acceptable answer?" he asked, taking another sip from his glass and you really wanted to take the glass from him and drink as well to boost your confidence.

"Truthful, of course." your eyes were stuck on his lips as he answered.

"I was trying to avoid you." his voice was a bit raspy and it made you attracted to him even more. And you exactly knew why he tried to avoid you. He felt the same way. He had to. You just chuckled, not saying anything more because you were satisfied with the answer he gave you, you were happy to hear that your feelings were reciprocated.

That evening you got drunk with Tom in a small pub next to your hotel, maybe that was the reason why you were so confident. Tom went to the toilet, almost hitting a wall when he tried to walk through the door there because of all the vodka you guys drank and that's when you saw him. Pedro came inside, Luca as always right next to him and he was getting a bottle of wine to go.

"Please do you have a pen?" you asked a young waitress who just walked next to you. She handed you the pen and before she could ask you if you wanted a paper as well, you already started to write on a napkin your number and quickly started to walk towards Pedro. Luca was the first one to notice you and he welcomed you with his wagging tail.

"Hello." you stood close to Pedro with a grin on your face which clearly showed that you already drunk a little bit too much.

"Hello," he repeated after you and raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by you.

"What are you doing tomorrow evening around eleven?" you asked without thinking too much about it and gave him the napkin with your number.

"Why? You wanna invite me to a threesome?" he asked, laughing quietly, but he was curious about what you wanted to tell him.

"Call me on this number." he smiled and took the napkin to his hand.

"You should better return, he is coming back." Pedro nodded discreetly the way that Tom went before and you abruptly ran towards your table.

"Let's drink." you gave Tom a drink when he sat down and as you both drank, you looked at Pedro and winked at him.

And he really did call and it made you feel things that you've never felt before. You did not sleep together but even without that, it was the most intimate night you've ever had. It did not take long before you agreed to meet when you came back home to New York.

You were hyped, telling your best friend over the phone about the date but some little part of you was a bit resistant because of Tom. You were living apart, he was in a small rented flat and you lived with your mom who was always away for her work so it seemed like you lived alone. You were sure that Tom would not find out but still, your consciousness was alarming you about the possibility of Tom finding out.

Before you knew it, you were already sitting in the beautiful restaurant, sipping from a glass of red wine and talking with Pedro about everything that came to your mind. He was smart, gentlemanly, funny and all the things you wanted in a man.

"Oh god, I am doing this again," he said suddenly, looking into your eyes.

"What are you doing?" you asked, confused by what happened and sipped your wine.

"We are talking here freely, telling each other funny things and thoughts and we are completely avoiding mentioning Tom, just so we can pretend that there is not a potential unfaithfulness in the air." his explanation did not make you think about Tom too much, you were completely captivated by this man, wanting to risk it all.

"But you know what? I am bored of this pretence. I am bored of pretending that I am not trying to get you comfortably drunk, or that I am innocently touching your leg. If you think that you are ready to start something with an almost fifty-year-old, moody man, then you have to really be sure about it. I want it, but do you, mi amor?" as you were listening to his monologue, you calmly drank your wine even though your heart was beating so quickly it almost jumped out of your body.

"If I did not want it, would I still be sitting here?" you asked, confidence somehow radiating from you. And that was the only reassurance he needed. Not even an hour later you were already sitting in a taxi, deciding which apartment to go to. There were gentle touches but your lips never met which made you want him even more.

"I'm going to take a shower," you said as you entered your apartment. "You are free to join me," you added with a smirk when he did not answer. His eyes lightened up and as you slowly walked backwards towards the bathroom, he was so close to you that it surprised you how you resisted with the kiss. But this thought left your mind immediately after you entered the shower and the hot water touched your skin almost as fast as Pedro's hands touched your body and his lips yours.

It was as if something exploded, the chemistry was almost visible between you and you could not hold yourself anymore, you needed his hands all over you, you needed his lips on you and mainly, you just needed him. He was holding you so close to him that you felt his hardening cock against you, making you moan quietly to the kiss. His hand travelled from your neck lower, over your chest, ribs, and hips and when you felt his fingers touch your clit, your legs almost stopped working.

His lips left yours, moving to your neck and you felt two of Pedro's fingers slowly enter you. Honestly, if it was not for the shower, it would make no difference as just the way he was kissing you made you wet. You dragged your nails across his back as he hit the perfect spot, making you almost see stars. This was something completely different than what you had with Tom, this connection that you two had was almost primal, it made you feel things through your body that you've never felt before.

Lost in the amazing feeling of his fingers you first did not even notice Pedro's lips leaving your neck but then you felt him kiss your thigh and it was as if you woke up, looking quickly down at him, meeting with his eyes. The smirk on his lips made you smile even more before you moaned out loud, feeling his lips sucking on your clit in a perfect rhythm with his index and middle finger.

"So pretty down here, mi amor," he murmured, sending vibrations through your clit. One of your hands moved to Pedro's curly hair, keeping him close to your core and your head leaned on the wall behind you. His short beard was scratching you, growing the sensation of his mouth even more. Your moans were like a song for him, wishing that he could hear them daily.

He licked you so good, you were filled with bliss, your eyes closed, your fingers curled in his hair.

"I fucking love this." you cried out loudly, ignoring that someone from other apartments could hear you.

"Cum for me baby." it did not take long before you do exactly that. Your legs started to shake and if you were not leaning against the wall, you would probably fall.

"Pedro.. Oh god." you moaned loudly, your hips bucked and you felt how Pedro fastened his movement, almost feasting on you as if his life depended on it.

You let out another sharp, whiny sound as you get to the edge, your body tensing and you almost feel how Pedro smirked because of how good he made you feel and he watches you through your orgasm, not even blinking.

By the time you were coming down, he was holding you against him to comfort you in a way that you really liked. Kissing you tenderly he shared your taste with you and you couldn't help but smile at the kiss because the whole situation was absolutely crazy to you. But you would not change it, you wanted to do this again and again.

"I am going to take you to the bed now and fuck another orgasm out of you," he whispered to you, making you get goosebumps even though you were really hot. As he picked you up, you instinctively put your legs around his waist and turned the water off so you could really move to the bed.

"This is so much better date than I expected," you mumbled to the kiss, feeling his rock-hard dick against you when he laid you down on the bed. It made him laugh quietly and kiss you again.

"I am glad that you expected that this is gonna happen," he said with a smirk but before you could have said anything to him, you felt his fingers on your clit again. He positioned himself over you, entering you maybe a bit too quickly but you could not wait either so you were happy to finally feel him inside you.

He started at a faster pace, too deep in his haze to even try to slow it down but you loved it. You loved the way his dick filled you up, how he whispered Spanish words to your ear and how he was paying attention to everything about your body. When he heard you moan at a particular moment, he repeated his movement. He was completely lost in you.

"Please, Pedro... You will make me cum again." you cried out loud, scratching him with your nails on his back and pushing your hips against his, making him go even further. It did not take him that long to feel his thighs shake a little but he just wanted his release to be in the same moment as yours so he touched your clit again, making there small, quick circles. You stopped breathing for a moment as you felt the pressure building in your inner core.

The moment when you reached your climax you felt how he pressed himself to you one last time, his release spilling into you. You were holding him so close to you, needing the comfort of his body in a moment like that.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, whispering sweet nothings, kissing and holding onto each other. Pedro then stood up and brought you a hot, wet towel, helping you to clean yourself before he hugged you again and refused to let you go. But the truth is, you did not even want him to let you go, you needed to stay like this with him.

"Where were you my whole life, mi amor?" he whispered suddenly, making you laugh quietly. You knew that this was what you wanted. Even though you loved Tom before, this was your future. This man was going to be yours.

#imagine #imagines #x reader #smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #smut x reader

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plussizeappreciationfics · 2 months ago

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One shot: Falling in love

Requested ? : yes by @queenoftheworldisdead

Request: Can you do Pedro pascal and plus reader? Maybe he falls for a costume designer on the set of one of his films?

Warning(s): nope

A/N: I changed it to the makeup artist if you don't mind! @queenoftheworldisdead

Image(s) found on Google/Pintersest

"He should be here any minute", Sarah, your assistant spoke as she watched you let out a long yawn before continuing to put the brushes, blushes, small bowl of fake blood and hair clips onto the table.

"He better, or else he won't need my makeup at all, I could beat his face with my bare hands" you joked while putting up your fists and pretending to punch an imaginary person. Your assistant chuckled and made a mental note to ask Pedro's assistant if they could make a tiktok video with that concept.

Before she could voice her thoughts, the door to the trailer opened and a loud "Buenas dias!" erupted through the small room, Pedro entering the trailer and quickly closing the door behind him and greeting the two of you with hugs and kisses on the cheeks.

At your turn, you couldn't help but inhale the fresh scent of his body wash and perfume. That man always smelled like he was blessed by the Gods themselves. The Chilean actor grinned at you before whispering another "Good morning, beautiful" to you, making sure that Sarah wouldn't hear his special greeting for you.

"Good morning, you're five minutes late. My time is money, Pascal" you playfully scolded while patting his back, making him give you a quick kiss on the cheeks. "I am sorry, I will be on time tomorrow", he promised and finally released you from the tight hug, not that you wanted it but it was time to get to work.

"Okay, today you're shooting a lot of fight scenes, so your face is gonna look pretty beaten and bloody", you informed to which Pedro sighed and nodded his head, knowing that today would be a physical exhausting day. Nonetheless, he loved his job and loved that he got to spend the following hour in peace and with you.

"Okay, I'll see if Denzel is ready, if he is then I'll start his makeup too" Sarah informed you. You hummed in response while focusing your eyes on the makeup you had set up, ready to be used. She nodded her head at your vocal response and quickly left the trailer, knowing that you and Pedro needed all the concentration in the world.

Once Sarah had closed the door behind her, Pedro sat down in his designated chair and removed his glasses, placing them on the table and letting out a tired sigh before focusing his gaze on you. You were standing next to him, leaning over to open the SFX makeup jar while thinking about how long and deep the first fake scar would need to look like.

"I'm really Sorry, mi amor. I overslept" Pedro's gentle voice pulled you out of your rhythm, to which you chuckled and faced him while silently admiring his beautiful face. His eyes stared deeply into your and he had this genuine look of regret on his face, his brown eyes begging you for forgiveness.

"You have nothing to worry about Pedro, I was half joking" you chuckled and patted him on his shoulder, not realizing that goosebumps had made their way across his skin at your touch, his stomach churned in delight nervousness while his heart fluttered in his chest. That man was long gone for you.

"When are we going to address this" Pedro responded, his question making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and surprise, your heart skipping a beat as you felt like you had been caught doing something you weren't supposed to do.

"Address what?" you asked and let out a nervous chuckle, the actor's piercing and loving gaze keeping you on your toes. The tension shifted in the trailer and a part of you knew that you needed to start doing your job or else the director would get annoyed at the delay.

"How we both are hopelessly in love with one another. How I can feel your increased heartbeat whenever I hug you, how you're the first and last thing on my mind. How I know that you're not gonna allow yourself to voice your deepest thoughts about your feelings towards me because you know that falling in love with an actor is not the most convenient thing on this planet".

Pedro gave you a wide smile, his eyes sparkling while you sat there awestruck. He had read you like an open book and you felt somehow exposed but at the same time relieved because he had indeed voiced your deepest thoughts.

A shaky sigh left your lips as you broke the intense eye contact for a few seconds, needing to gather your thoughts.

"Pedro..." you sighed and looked back at him again, seeing how he leaned forwards and gently placed his hands on your thick waist, pulling you closed to him so that now you were standing in front of him.

He gently wrapped his strong arms around your waist and placed his chin on your big stomach, smiling up at you and looking so damn adorable and handsome that it made your heart skip a beat while a delicate shiver ran its way down your spine.

"I know what you're thinking. I am asking you for one date, an afternoon or evening where it's just the two of us and nobody else. No work, no coworkers just us. If you decide to not pursue your feelings and keep things professional, I will do the same", Pedro's suggestion sounded heavenly.

"Okay, one date. And then a few days time to gather my thoughts and then I'll let you know my decision" you repeated with a quick head nod, loosing the inner battle of not touching the actor and gently letting your soft hand brush through his still damp curls. The motion made the actor let out a soft sigh, already loving your touch and yearning for only more.

"Thank you. I will set everything up, all I need from you is to show up".

"Don't tell me that, I will show up in sweats and a baggy shirt" you chuckled and shook your head.

Pedro surprised you by quickly standing up, still holding you in close while a wide grin took over his face.

"I don't give a fuck how you'll dress up, I'm already blessed to know that I'll spend a few hours with you", his romantic confession made you bite back a shit-eating grin as you felt your knees weaken.

"We gotta get back to work now, or both of our asses will be served on a silver platter" you spoke and let out a sigh, wishing that this moment would never stop. You had finally gotten the confession you had been secretly been hoping and wishing for. A deep sense of peace and glee settled in your soul as you couldn't wait for the special date.

"Then let's get back to work, but not before this-" Pedro surprised you by leaning forward and stealing a soft, gentle kiss from your lips. The delicateness of his motion making your head spin while your lips tingled with glee. You gasped at the sensations and pushed the actor back in his seat, making him let out a chuckle while you shook your head and finally got to work on his face.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x plus size reader #pedro pascal x you #plus size reader #pedro x reader

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creedslove · 1 year ago

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POOL PARTY ☀️

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Even though you're sick, you still went to Pedro's pool party - which you discovered was made only for you, you don't feel well, but you can't disappoint him by not taking a swim with him

Warnings: fluff with no plot, just fluff, a teeny tiny bit of angst and sexual tension, but again, fluff

A/N: this is silly and lame and definitely not the kind of story I usually love writing but I am sick and I need comfort so someone bring me pedro pascal over here so I can hug the hell outta him and tell him how precious he really is

2.4k words

You spent the whole morning thinking of a way you could say no to Pedro.

From the moment you woke up and felt your throat itchy at first, only to feel it burning and finally going completely sore in the symptoms of inflammation you were already so used to, to the sneezes that annoyed you every couple of minutes and the overall feeling you had just been hit by a truck made it pretty clear it was not the ideal day for a pool party.

You cursed yourself, the weather, your life, everything. Out of all the days in your life, why did you have to get sick exactly the day Pedro had invited you - and begged you to show up to a pool party?

You and Pedro were… complicated.

You were friends, like, real good friends at first. And then you became a couple, but you two decided being a couple wouldn't work. You hated the exposure he had, it wasn't his fault of course, but it baffled you how he handled going out for a coffee, for lunch, or simply walking down the street and being photographed and filmed all the time. You just didn't like the feeling you would have to watch your back every time so you could have a tiny bit of privacy. No holding hands, no kissing, just walking around like two acquaintances, either that or having your photo all over gossip websites, comments bombarding it all the time calling you and Pedro horrible things, fans claiming to being jealous and hating you for dating him, as he was supposed to be theirs and no one else's. It was too much.

On Pedro's part, it was hard to balance a relationship with his working schedule, he worked hard and that meant he was most of the time unavailable, unless you traveled with him to where he was shooting, which was impossible because you had your own life, your own job and as much as you would've become a trophy wife for him and only Pedro, you guys never got to this point.

The affection, the attraction and the spark was still there, so even after you broke up, you decided to be friends again.

But maybe, just maybe, you hugged too much, cuddled too much and kissed too much as friends.

And that was why most of his co-stars hated you.

Pedro always tried to be as discreet as possible, he never admitted bluntly though you never directly asked, you didn't have to, you knew him enough for that. He was a flirty little shit, he was handsome and sexy and they were always gorgeous. It was obvious he very often had affairs with them. And if he was in a near enough location and asked you to visit him, or if you bumped into each other at a restaurant or even if you went to a dinner party at his home and they happened to be there, they immediately hated you.

Not because of you though, you always acted nicely to anyone and it would be no exception to them, but you wouldn't kiss their ass just because they were famous either.

Of course you would keep your distance from Pedro if they were around. You wouldn't hug him as much or hold his hand but there was something there and neither of you could control it.

It was always exchanged glances, or inside jokes, it was obvious to everybody but the two of you, you were just two stubborn idiots in love.

You hadn't seen each other in over a month, he was all over the country working, shooting, attending events and you were on you well-deserved vacation, so when he finally went back home, he'd texted you about the pool party he was hosting.

Pedro knew you loved pool parties and you had spent countless hours swimming in his, so he was just so excited to have you over, he forgot to mention a small detail: you were his only guest.

You were also so eager to see him, you missed that man dearly and you thought he would be in Cannes enjoying the high life but when he told you he was back home you couldn't control your excitement. If it were up to you, you would've gone straight to his house or welcomed him at yours, it didn't matter, just to see each other. But the weekly appointments you had got the best of you and you forced yourself to wait for the weekend.

And then you woke up with a cold and you wanted to cry in frustration and sadness.

You could just not show up, but that was really not an option, and you could also tell him you were too sick to go, the only thing you'd have to face would be his puppy brown eyes looking at you as if you'd shattered his heart, and you didn't want that.

So you grabbed all the cold meds you had at home, took them in one dose, packed yourself a bag with your clothes and drove to his house. You figured Pedro would be distracted enough with his guests and he wouldn't mind if you just chilled on his couch, maybe watched something on TV and had some snacks before heading home, plus he would understand if you didn't dip yourself in the pool. Besides, if by any chance any co-star of his were there, he would probably pay much more attention to them in their tiny bikini than you anyways.

So when you arrived there and realized you were the only one, you thought you were too early or maybe you'd misread the invitation and screwed up the dates?

But there he was, Pedro in just his shorts and shirt, with a wide smile welcoming you to his place.

Your heart skipped a beat, he was so handsome and though he knew the effect he had on women - and men, and everybody really, you felt your heartache to know he didn't acknowledge how painfully handsome he was. He didn't see himself the way you did, and it was a shame because you saw him like the best thing that happened to you.

You couldn't help but smile back at him, grabbing your things and exiting the car.

He waited for you with his arms open, because Pedro didn't do formal greetings, he did hugs, and you loved it.

You flew to his arms and squealed as he wrapped his strong ones around your body, lifting you up softly and twirling you.

You giggled as he put you down and watched you. He really watched you. Taking his time observing you, as if you hadn't seen each other in years, when in reality it had been what? A month? Six weeks?

Still, you were so happy to be next to him you almost forgot about your cold. Almost, but eventually, you felt another sting on your throat and groaned frustrated, which made Pedro frown.

"I almost didn't make it, Pedro… I woke up like that" you said and pouted. He knew how much you hated getting sick. Not that anyone liked it, but you hated it, you often got so angry and cranky you couldn't even describe. You even avoided people when you were sick, as you didn't want to take down on them, but you could that to Pedro, you never avoided him and you were never rude to him.

He cupped his cheek and gave you such sweet lovely eyes.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, querida… you look a little pale, do you wanna lie down?" You chuckled how he offered you to lie down but didn't ask if you wanted to leave, because you knew there was no way he would let you leave.

You shook your head and entwined your fingers "it's alright, but I don't think I'll swim today" you smiled at him and looked around, looking for other cars, but there was only yours and Pedro's there. "Where's everybody?"

Pedro scratched the back of his neck and chuckled "well, you're the only one I invited…"

"Pedro, you do know the meaning of the word party, right? If it's just me, then why did you say there was a party?"

"Well, it is a party for my favorite girl…" he said adorably and you just couldn't resist him.

"Oh cariño" the nickname always brought a blush to his cheeks "if I weren't sick I would be kissing the shit outta you!" You laughed and walked inside with him.

Pedro's arm was tight wrapped around your waist as you eyed the pool and turned to him "you decorated the pool!!! You didn't have to do that!"

"Yes I did because it was supposed to be a pool party! I just didn't know you would be too sick to get inside" Pedro unconsciously stared at you with his puppy eyes and it made you feel guilty.

It was a very hot day, you were already sick, what could go wrong? It wouldn't get worse than that, would it?

So you sighed and smiled at him "fine, I guess I can't get sicker than this, so I'll get changed, will you wait for me to get inside?"

He nodded excitedly and grabbed himself a beer.

You ran to the bathroom, already familiar with his place and opened your bag, seeing the two options you brought: a bikini or a swimsuit. You went for the bikini, it usually made you shy to wear it among many people, but there was only you and Pedro there and well, since you'd seen each other naked many times, it wouldn't be a big deal.

You quickly changed and walked outside with your sunblock as Pedro had certainly forgotten his.

He was sat by the edge of the pool, feet dipped into water and wearing only his trunks.

You stood still and watched his body, he was looking so fine. He always did, but ever since he started the preparation for his new movie he got even more attractive.

You reminded yourself you were there to enjoy your friend's company and not lust after him.

You joined him and smiled "hey there handsome" you winked and coughed a little, feeling shy to be sick like that and got some sunblock on your hand, spreading it over his shoulder "you need to take care of your skin, handsome" you said sweetly and leaned in, which Pedro corresponded but frowned as you pecked his forehead instead.

He groaned softly and took some sunblock into his own hands and did the same on your back, mirroring your moves as you felt his big hands over your skin. And his hands were pretty big, almost as big as his…

You stopped yourself there and saw he was staring "maybe you should get this top off, you know, so you can get sunbathed properly" he suggested and you rolled your eyes.

Suddenly Pedro hugged you as tight as he could and threw himself into the water, dragging you with him as his weight caused you to fall.

He was so boyish you couldn't help yourself but laugh, seeing him swim towards you and wrap his arms again around your figure, pulling you closer.

Pedro was flirting with you as much as you flirted with him and though you shouldn't keep on doing that, you couldn't resist him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your back to the edge of the pool so he could sustain your weight with no trouble. He laughed softly "I missed you a lot, princesa" he whispered and kissed your neck, making you groan, taking your hands to his cute wet hair and giggling.

"Fuck Pedro, don't tease me" you asked and saw him looking at you, he was admiring you and leaned towards you, but you quickly moved your head away, avoiding his lips and received disappointed eyes.

Your heart clenched, you didn't like seeing him like that, you would never refuse him, but you didn't want to kiss him, you were sick and he would get sick.

Pedro, on the other hand, felt disappointed. You'd been distant from him, you wouldn't kiss him and in his mind you had probably met someone better than him, even if your legs were wrapped around his body, sometimes it was so hard for him to believe you liked him.

His gripped around your body loosen and he sighed, letting go of you and looking down "sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable" he said in a low tone but your hands quickly held his head in place.

"No honey, it's just that I am sick, if you kiss me you'll get sick too, and it's gonna be a problem for you when you go to work again" you tried to reason him and saw how his eyes softened.

His hand cupped your cheek and he swam closer again, one arm around your waist and ready to kiss you…

When you started coughing and couldn't stop.

You quickly turned away, your body shook as you were positive you had a fever now. You thought you couldn't get worse than you already were, but guess what, you were wrong.

"Shit, baby girl, come here" Pedro said, as he had managed to get off the pool and held a towel, helping you climb up the steps and wrapped it around your body.

"You take a warm shower and you'll lie in bed, got it princesa?" You nodded, shivering and walked back to his room.

You didn't take long in the shower, though the warm water felt really good as it poured down your body.

You managed to put your clothes back on after drying yourself and smiled as Pedro waited for you.

He made sure to get you comfortable in your bed and joined you. His arms were wrapped around your body and no matter if you told him many times he should stay away so you'd get him sick, he still refused it.

He held you close and rubbed your back up and down, making sure you were covered and warm.

"I know you don't wanna kiss me, but I was wondering if we could maybe go on a date, like a proper one, what do you say?" He asked with a small blush spread across his cheeks and you couldn't believe how sweet Pedro was, and for a second, you wanted to be selfish and kiss him as deep as you could, even if it meant he'd get sick later.

So you did it.

If he got sick, you'd take care of him, like he was taking care of you.

_____

A/N: idk I am just sick and I want Pedro to take care of me 😭

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #javier peña #javier pena #joel miller

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writersblog20 · 2 years ago

Text

Captain crunch and the future

Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: After a big and very exciting opportunity, you tried to unwind and relax a bit and how else would you do that other than hanging out with Pedro Pascal, a joint, some music and a box of captain crunch

Warnings: so much fluff, reader gets picked up by Pedro, weed, joints, edibles, mention of anxiety, age-gap (not mentioned tho but reader is in mid-twenties), friends to lovers

Words: 4,8K

A/N: I just wanted to make clear that I’m not sexualizing the word: Baby girl. It just makes my heart warm up and feel fuzzy inside. I just want to be Pedro’s baby girl

Captain crunch and the future

You were currently located in LA since your uncle was a famous DJ who you worked for as a videographer, photographer and graphic designer. You did also a lot of pr work for him as a part of your studies. Kind of like an internship but you knew that this was going to be a big part of your job which you were fine with. You loved your uncle and the work. You kind of had a brother and sister relationship. Besides, you both came from nothing and had to build up this career. You’ve been through a lot of shit together and he openly admitted that you kept him grounded. Reminded him of who he really was and where he came from.

But maybe the most part that you enjoyed a lot was that one of his good friends who is Pedro Pascal. You had a crush on him and loved when he would come over. But because you were both so busy, you hadn’t really had a lot of time to get to know each other. Yes you’ve drank some beers together but that was always with a group of people. He was always kind to you though, which always made your heart skip a beat. The soft glances that you both gave each other and would smile sweetly. You’ve caught him looking at you multiple times before and every time that you caught him, it brought butterflies to your stomach.

Tonight your uncle was giving a party but you had the opportunity to attend a festival, known as Coachella and photograph the artists on stage so for obvious reasons, you took the job. It was a big part of your dream and it made you extremely excited.

Pedro stayed at your uncles house for a while as well. He had a acting job close to your uncles house so your uncle invited him in and you couldn’t be more excited about that because that meant that you would see each other more often and interact with him. For some reason Pedro gave you so much comfort just by being near. You felt very attached to him, he made you feel safe and brought you for some unknown reason, peace. So that’s one of the many reasons that you liked him near you.

Today was the day that you would have that festival and you were almost jumping through the roof. This was such a huge opportunity that you couldn’t even believe it and you did it all yourself. Without any help from people who could easily get you in. No, you wanted them to want you for your talent and for your hard work. That felt the most fair for you. You didn’t want to be that person who got in because someone powerful. That just felt wrong to you. You wanted people to see you for your work and hire you for that reason.

You happily walked into the kitchen with a bright smile. “Good morning!” you cheered and Pedro and your uncle were laughing at your excitement. They were happy and excited for you too, matching your energy. And like I said, your uncle knew where you came from and look at you now.

Pedro was making pancakes while your uncle was working on something. “There you go princesa. You need some good breakfast before you go to work.” You felt flustered by the nickname. It was the first time he used a pet name for you and you felt all fuzzy from it. You smiled shyly, which he returned, and thanked him. You dug in the pancakes and they were some of the best pancakes you’ve ever had and before you knew it, your plate was empty. “That was really good! Thank you Pedge!” This was the first time you gave him a nickname as well and you could see Pedro blush and get flustered. His smile was as bright as the sun while he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome sweetie.” He was anxiously standing around and this time your uncle looked up in suspicion from the interaction between the two of you.

You brought your plate and mug to the counter and grabbed your stuff and let out a deep shaky breath. “okay, I’m gonna go. Whish me good luck!” you told them and kissed your uncle on his cheek as they whished you all the best and gave you some encouraging words before you left.

~time skip~

It was 1 AM and you finally made your way home. This was the best experience you’ve ever had and you knew that it was going to be tough to get some sleep from all the adrenaline running through your body but you were still too tired to go to your uncles party right now. The thought of changing into something nice for the party while your whole body felt like it’s been hit by a truck (Ten times), you felt dirty from all the sweating and the idea of getting into some serious conversations was something that you’d rather skip for now.

You walked through a side door so you wouldn’t encounter any people on your way in. But Pedro saw you the moment you came into vision and all of a sudden, the party didn’t matter for him anymore. He wanted to hang and chill with you. Hear your stories about how it was. That was his favorite thing actually, hear you speak about things that you felt passionate about. The internet would call him a ray of sunshine but they would think different if they met you. Because you were the true sunshine in his mind. The way you shined was contagious and even though you never chilled just the two of you, you had that effect on everyone around you.

“Hey! Are you even listening to me right now?” Oscar joked as he swatted Pedro’s arm. He couldn’t look away from the spot where you were just seconds ago. Pedro snapped out of it “Ehh, sorry what?” he awkward chuckled. Oscar had met you too and loved you for obvious reasons but he could see that his best friend was falling head over heels for you. “You like her don’t you?” Oscar asked with a smile. Pedro started to blush and chuckle awkwardly. “I eh…. Yeah, I like to hang with her.” Of course Oscar immediately knew that he was skipping over the question. “Come on now Pedro.” Pedro shushed him a little while looking around, hoping that nobody heard them. Oscar chuckled “Then go to her. I bet she wants someone to talk to right now. She had a very eventful day I bet.” Oscar encouraged him. “Yeah, but I’m here with you.” Oscar waved him off. “I’m going to go home to my wife anyway so come on hot shot, go and talk to her.” Pedro hugged Oscar and made his way inside.

Pedro walked into the kitchen (Your uncle had such a big house that it had 2 kitchens. You could say it was two houses in one. So on the other side was the party and this side it was your space.) You weren’t there so he walked around a bit until he heard the shower. He found himself relax a little, knowing where you were right now. Pedro went to his own room and quickly changed into something more comfortable before walking downstairs again.

You got out of the shower and put on your oversized pajamas. You got your edibles, joint and your plushy with a heating pad inside and made your way downstairs. You were met with Pedro who was leaning on the counter, scrolling through, what you figured was Tiktok and eating some captain crunch straight from the box. His hair was a bit ruffled and he was wearing some funny, yet cute pajamas. He looked so comfy that you just wanted to cuddle with him. The familiar butterflies came back and you smiled softly.

“Don’t want to attend the party either?” you asked him with a soft smile playing upon your lips. He quickly looked up and the cutest smile appeared on his face when he looked at you. You felt your heart swell up and you quickly looked down. “I was there for a couple of hours but then I saw that you came home and I wanted to know how it went. If you want to talk about it of course!” He quickly added. You smiled and was so happy that you could tell someone. You nodded and walked over to him. You placed your plushy in the microwave and put on the tea kettle before sitting on the kitchen counter next to Pedro who was standing besides you and was following your moves.

You started telling him all about it and how you managed to connect with bigger artists. It was like your dream was about to come true. Pedro couldn’t wipe away the smile that was plastered permanently on his face from how passionate you talked about it.

You made yourself a cup of tea and one for Pedro. You popped an edible in your mouth and Pedro raised his eyebrow up in amusement. “What was that?” he asked you, knowing fully well what it was. You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Eh… Edibles…. I just want to sleep and I know with the adrenaline I have right now, I won’t.” Pedro chuckled “So…. You have another one?” he asked you carefully. You looked up at him surprised. “Yeah, you want one?” you offered and got one out of your pocket, handing it to him. He smiled again. “Thank you very much.” He giggled a little, releasing sparks in your stomach. He ate the edible and you showed the joint to him. “So…. You want to get high right?” you asked him, holding the joint up. Pedro smirked “God I love you.” you giggled at his reaction.

You got the tea and you both settled down in the lounge room where you could smoke. The room was softly lit with some neon lights and some salt lamps. You sat in the comfy couch, holding the heating plushy against your abdomen. Pedro put some music on and plopped next to you. You noticed that Pedro took the captain crunch with him and you chuckled when he got a hand full out of the box and offered you a couple, which you gladly took.

“Never expected to share a box of cereal with you while getting high.” You chuckled and Pedro as well when he thought about it. You lit the joint and leaned back more while Pedro looked at you, without you knowing it. He watched the way you inhaled the smoke, how your shoulders started to relax, how you leaned your head against the cushions while staring at the ceiling, how your lips got attached to the joint as you inhaled more smoke and slowly puffing it out before handing the joint to Pedro.

It was quiet but more like a comfortable silence with the music playing in the background. You were finally starting to relax as the adrenaline wore off and Pedro noticed since your head slowly started to lean against his shoulder. He had a soft and adoring smile as he took a puff from the joint. His head started to lean more against yours, both slumped into the couch. “Thank you Pedge.” You told him, taking him by surprise but yet the nickname you gave him started to flutter his heart. “For what baby girl?” the new nickname he gave you made you feel all the fuzzy feelings

“Just being here. With me.” Pedro readjusted his position and sat a little up. “It’s my pleasure. I like hanging out with you.” you couldn’t hide the smile that creeped up your face. “I like hanging out with you too. Even though, we never really hang out together. You know, just the two of us.” You told him and Pedro started to sing “Just the two of ussss.” He giggled as so did you and softly hit his arm while he laughed. Yeah, typical Pedro, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Pedro got the captain crunch box and placed it between the two of you, eating some as he slumped back into the couch. Your eyelids started to feel heavy from how fuzzy you felt inside. The warmth radiating of off Pedro, your heating plushy, how the weed kicked in and just how comfortable and safe you felt around Pedro made you sleepy and finally relaxed. “Can we do this more often?” you mumbled tiredly. Pedro chuckled softly. “Of course we can sweetheart. I’d love to.” You leaned more against him but this time you didn’t do it subconsciously which took him by surprise. He got his arm from behind you and placed it over your shoulder, pulling you closer and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

You both listened to the music and you felt how your body started to ache when you finally relaxed a bit. You closed your eyes and didn’t knew when it happened but you fell asleep on Pedro’s shoulder.

Pedro was deep in thought about you. This all felt so natural and well, it felt like home. You felt like home. He was at peace when you were around and when you weren’t, it was like a big piece was missing. He was debating to tell you that he liked you but he was petrified to loose you. “I really like you baby girl…” he whispered, holding his breath from anxiety but when you didn’t respond to him, he looked over at you, fast asleep, drooling a tiny bit on his sweater. He smiled adoringly at you, sort of happy that you didn’t hear it and things were still the same but that also meant that the nagging feeling was still there.

Pedro let out a soft sigh from relief and figured he should bring you upstairs. He stood up carefully and placed his arm underneath your legs and your back, picking you up. He slightly groaned because of his back. He knew that his back was going to kill him but he didn’t have the heart to wake you up. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and neck, still asleep and snuggled your face against his chest as you mumbled something in your sleep. His heart felt like it was going to burst from all the love he felt radiating for you.

You were stirring a bit but was still fast asleep until Pedro gently placed you on your bed. You immediately laid down on your side and Pedro carefully tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead, ready to exit your room until you quickly grabbed his hand. Pedro got startled for a minute, not expecting you to wake up or anything. “Please stay…” it almost sounded beggingly. Pedro looked into your heavy eyes, his heart and stomach going loose with butterflies. He nodded and without saying anything, crawled next to you in bed. You turned around, waiting for him to be comfortable.

“Come here baby girl.” He said with a raspy voice, hinting that he was comfortable. You immediately let your head rest on his chest with your arms wrapped around him. His hand was in your hair, comforting you while the other drew circles on your back and it didn’t take you long before you fell into a peaceful sleep again.

Pedro stared lovingly at you. It almost became unbearable to not tell you about how he truly felt. He wanted to shout it out on every roof that he was completely and utterly in love with you and how proud he would be if he could call you his girl. God the thought of it was bittersweet but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Finally he convinced himself to tell you the next day. At the beach if you fell up for it and with that thought, he finally fell asleep himself.

You woke up, a little confused as to what happened. Your mind still foggy when you tried to gather every bit of information from the day before. The festival…. God the festival already felt like a dream as if it never happened. You felt a pair of arms tightening around your waist and got pulled towards a chest. You looked up and saw Pedro. You smiled and already felt calmer. Everything just felt safe when Pedro was around you. it scared you because no one ever felt safe but with Pedro… he was your home. You’ve never really had a feeling of a true home but you would bet money on it that it would feel like when you’re with Pedro.

The sun was shining through your curtains and a ray of sunshine fell on Pedro’s face, waking him up with a grumble. It was almost ironical. A sunshine on (a bit of a grumpy) sunshine. You chuckled when Pedro slowly woke up from the sun in his eyes. He turned towards you so he would be away from the sun and slowly opened his eyes, to find you already with a soft smile looking back at him. Pedro couldn’t help but smile back, you just had that effect on him. “Good morning.” You greeted him with a soft smile. “Good morning sweetheart.” He told you and pulled you closer to him and kissed the top of your head.

You were more than happy to oblige for the hug. Your head resting on his chest again with a permanent smile on your face. “I don’t mind waking up like this.” It slipped out before you realized. Pedro just chuckled and you hoped that he wouldn’t think too much about it and find out about your crush on him. But of course he did. Pedro was already far away in his mind, trying to figure out if you meant something with that or not. Your phone went off and you saw that Pedro had put your phone in the charger before he crawled next to you last night.

You got out, not expecting a phone call from anyone so it got you curious. Especially since it was a day after the festival and it might had something to do with that. You didn’t recognize the number and frowned but answered it. You looked at Pedro who sat up, leaning on his elbows. “Hello, good morning, Y/N/ Y/L/N speaking” you greeted the other person.

Pedro looked at how your aura was visible in the sun and how magical you looked at this moment. You always looked magical but now… with the sun shining down on you, it was like a fairytale, like magic. You were magic. He got abruptly out of his thoughts when you became extremely excited and silently started jumping around, while playing it cool on the telephone. “Yeah, that is amazing! I’d love to! Yeah….yeah I’ll see your email soon. Thank you. You too, bye!” You hang up and Pedro quickly got out of the bed, knowing that something amazing just happened.

“They asked me to do more festivals and I’ve been asked to be the photographer for multiple concert avenues and even artists want to work with me! Not only for photography but also with graphic designs!" Pedro was flabbergast just as you but so extremely happy for you. “Oh my god!” he told you and held out his arms open for you to jump in and you did. He twirled you around while you laughed, still from disbelieve. “I need to tell my uncle!” you told him abrupt and got out of the hug, way too excited as you ran down the stairs, alarming everyone who might have still been asleep. Your uncle quickly came to your side, thinking that something bad had happened. He looked up where you came from and saw Pedro. He was already frowning but the moment he saw your wide smile, he knew that you were okay and that you were just excited.

You told him the same thing and he picked you up from happiness and twirled you around as well. “I’m so proud of you! Look at us now!!” you both whipped away some happy tears and gave each other another hug. “Hey! You still going to work for me right???” you knew that he was scared that you would leave. “Of course I will! I might need some help so maybe I need to start a business and stuff” Your head already going three thousand per mile. “But yeah, yeah no I won’t leave! Unless you want me to but otherwise, no.” your uncle grabbed you in a hug again. “Good.” Was all he said, stopping you from rambeling.

~Time skip~

The morning was chaotic and you were completely running on adrenaline right now and when Pedro asked you to join him on a, more remote spot on the beach and get high you couldn’t say no. You would never say no to Pedro. The driver of your uncle dropped the both of you off. You and Pedro chatted while walking to his secret spot. When you arrived, it took your breath away. It was gorgeous. You just stood there for a minute, taking in the view when Pedro walked up to you and stood beside you.

“I understand why you come here so often. It’s gorgeous here.” You told him without looking away from the view. Pedro nodded, not saying anything. He wanted to tell you that you were a better view. That you are gorgeous and that he didn’t needed to go to this place when you are around because you are so much more breath taking than this view but he couldn’t. So he decided to just nod and say: “Yeah it’s pretty amazing.” He chuckled a bit nervously.

You both started unpacking and put some music on before diving into the water. You giggled when the cold water hit your skin. It was refreshing more than anything else. Pedro came walking up to you and stood next to you. You looked at him but he was already looking at you with a loving smile that made you feel all fuzzy inside and shy. You couldn’t help but giggle from nervousness that he also gave you. He chuckled as well and softly splashed some water on you.

You did it back and before you knew it you both had a whole water fight. You got more into the deeper part and Pedro started to swim. You looked a little around, feeling a bit nervous. You loved swimming but you were slightly afraid of what laid underneath the water. Just the thought of it made you wince. “Come on!” Pedro yelled excitedly. You took a step closer but that was the part where you needed to swim. Pedro immediately noticed your discomfort and swam towards you. “You can hold on to me and rest on my back.” he told you with a soft smile. He didn’t made you feel like you were overexaggerating or belittling you for being scared. No nothing like that, he would never. Instead he tried to help you out and well, it also gave you just another excuse to be closer to him. “Are you sure?” you asked because of his back pains. “We’re in the water baby girl. It’s okay.” He chuckled a bit and you agreed.

Your arms loosely hanging around his shoulder and your head resting on your arm and against the side of his head. You felt so fuzzy inside, from the man below you and the sun hitting your skin, it felt like you were walking on the 9th cloud.

After a while of swimming, you both laid down on the towels with the joint between your fingers and after a couple of hits, you passed it down to Pedro. You laid on your stomach with your face towards Pedro. “Thank you, Pedge. For this and last night ya know.” Pedro smiled shyly “Trust me it’s my pleasure darling.” You smiled and took the joint back when Pedro passed it down back to you. “We should really hang out more.” you told him and you saw sparks in his eyes, making you smile brightly. “I’d like that idea.” You nodded “Yeah I mean we’ve hung out before but never together. Well since last night that is.” Pedro smiled and thought back to the moment.

“Last night… you said something when I was half asleep… what did you say?” you asked him. You heard him but you weren’t sure if that was something that happened in your dream or if he really said it. Pedro looked shocked and that was almost all you need to know. Pedro became flustered, started blushing and stuttering a little, panic visible in his eyes. “So you do like me. I thought it was just a dream.” You told him softly. Pedro was too scared to say anything since you haven’t confirmed it or denied him. “I’m glad it wasn’t though.” You whispered softly as you played with your nails.

Relief, happiness, excitement washed over him and he immediately relaxed more. Pedro laid down on his stomach as well and softly grabbed your hand where you were playing with your nails. His digits softly going over them before placing a kiss on the back of your hand. You smiled and felt yourself grow a bit shy. “I’m glad you heard me in that case.” He chuckled softly, making you chuckle as well, both connecting your eyes.

The laughter slowly died down and all there was visible was adoration in each other’s eyes for one another. “I’m glad you told me.” your voice barely a whisper. Pedro looked down for a bit, blush visible on his cheeks again when he looked up, soft smile lingering on his face. He moved closer to you and cupped your face, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek. He looked down at your lips and licked his own before connecting his to you. It was soft and sensual, releasing all the butterflies in your stomach. Pedro took his time with kissing you, wanting to put all his love in the kiss and oh boy did he do that.

When he pulled away you both started chuckling again. “Let’s not tell my uncle this yet.” You told him with a nervous chuckle which Pedro duplicated. “That sounds like a good idea right now. I’d like to spend some more time with you before he's going to kill me." he chuckled and gave you another sweet kiss. Yeah, you’re uncle is going to kill him. (not really but he won’t make it easy on Pedro either even though he is one of the best guys on this planet. He was dating you and boy was he overprotective.) “So… did he tell you about his new shows he’s going to?” you asked him amused and Pedro’s face fell a bit. “Oh no he didn’t. But that means you need to go too right?” he asked you, trying his best to hide the disappointment but you saw right through him.

“No silly. That’s why I asked. He’s gone for 5 days, working with other guys and gave me some time off.” you chuckled and sat up. Pedro’s eyes lighting up. “Really? That’s great! I can take you out on a proper date, we can go to the movies together, go to a museum, maybe even a concert….” You stopped Pedro from talking with a kiss and a chuckle from his rambling. “I’d love too. But I’d like to hang out with you at home as well. Just some quality time.” You told him with a soft smile and the adoration in his eyes had never reached this high. “God, how I like you baby girl.” You chuckled and pulled him in for a longer kiss, laying back on your back as he hang slightly above you.

You couldn’t help but pull him in for a hug. Your heat just ached for it and he chuckled, kissing your cheek and forehead. “I’ll always keep you safe, baby girl.” He told you and looked you in the eye. You smiled softly. “I know.” Pedro kissed your lips again and pulled back with a smile. “Good.” You smiled back and you couldn’t be more excited for the future. With everything coming up and to be able to share that with Pedro… that was what made it even better.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x fluff #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x female original character #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal oneshot #pedro pascal one shot

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avenging-fandoms · 2 years ago

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hiii can i pls make a request for pedro pascal angst?? like maybe, pedro has been getting real distant to yn and yn is worried and tries to approach him but he ends up lashing out because he’s stressed out with work and stuff - and yn like has a moment of woah where they can’t swallow what he just said and pedro feels bad so he comforts them afterwards. thank uuu <3

You couldn't remember the last time Pedro slept in bed with you. He would come home late and fall asleep on the couch. He could make it to the bedroom, but he chooses not to. He doesn't even know how many nights you spent crying because he chose to do that.

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, knowing he's been working hard. But he's not the only one who works and wasn’t the only one who was tired. You just wanted your boyfriend back.

Pedro would make small talk, and kiss you maybe once a day. You didn't know what you did wrong. You tried so hard to not be in his way and even help out, but he didn't budge.

You had a great opportunity to talk to him. Pedro was sitting on the couch on his phone, he was calm. You took a deep breath and sat a few cushions away from him, and he just glanced from the side of his eye.

"Pedro.. can I talk to you about something?" you ask softly and he shrugged. "I don't know what I have done to make you not want to be around me.." your voice started to shake and your eyes welled. Fuck. You were never good with confrontation. "But I just want you to tell me so we can fix.."

"No, Yn. There is no discussion that needs to be had. I’m fine, you’re fine, it’s fine” he snapped and you look at him angrily with tears in your eyes as you sat up and his eyes were still on his phone.

"You don't get to tell me how I'm feeling, Pedro. I don't feel loved, you barely come to bed anymore. You don't kiss me, come home for lunch, anything. I'm hurt, Pedro. Why are you-"

His head snapped towards you, standing up as his fingers tightly holding his phone as he looked at you with cold, dark eyes.

"Enough!" he raised his voice. You flinched. This had never happened before, and you were terrified to see your sweet boyfriend being such an angry person. "You don't get it, do you? How fucking exhausting it is having to film different projects at the same time, interviews, people on the fucking internet talking about whatever you do. You work in an office, our jobs aren't the same. You will never get it. Stop blaming me for everything. A relationship has 2 people" he fell back on the couch. "Just.. leave me alone and stop annoying me"

You felt like you couldn't breathe. You got up from the couch and headed to the bedroom, slamming the door and falling on his pillow and sobbing. The smell of him is gone. It was like he was dead and you were living with his ghost.

You bawled quietly into his pillow, curled into a ball as everything hurt. You sat up, knowing that's now how you should be spoken to, no matter what.

You grabbed a bag from your closet, grabbing shirts and whatever off the hangers all while crying all over again about what he said. You squatted on the floor in front of the bed with a hand on your forehead, hand on the bed as you supported yourself.

You loved your job and Pedro knew you loved your job too. You always told him his lifestyle would never be for you but you loved supporting him whenever you could. He used it all against you.

As soon as you left the room, Pedro's eyes trained on the wall as his phone screen dimmed. Every word was poisoned from his mouth as he spoke to you, all while yelling. That's not how he wanted to react, but he was so over exhausted and sad he couldn't help it, his mouth moved faster than his brain.

Pedro left his phone on the couch as his bare feet carried him to your bedroom. He could hear your sobs from outside of the room and he closed his eyes. This was his fault. In your 5 years of being together, he never yelled at you. It wasn't Pedro, this wasn't Pedro.

He grabbed the handle and twisted it slowly, pushing it open and saw you sobbing next to a pile of your clothes stacked in your bag. His heart fell on the floor.

"Yn.." his voice was inaudible. You turn around and glare at him, standing up. His eyes warmed up, and his eyebrows furrowed with his puppy dog look.

"Don't. How dare you speak to me like that?" you cry and he bows his head, picking it up and stepping towards you. "You yelled at me like you were a prison guard. And attacked my job! Are you serious?" you couldn't catch a breath between words and sobs.

Pedro's arms wrap tightly around you as your hands cover your face. "I'm so sorry I yelled at you and I'm so sorry I said those things. I know it's no excuse but my brain was so full of everything I had to do the past couple of months." his hands rub your back and you drop your hands.

"I know that, Pedro. I understand. But why have you been treating me like I was just someone you live with?" your sticky cheeks held pieces of your hair and Pedro pulled them off as he held your face.

"I don't want you to see me like that. But I know how shitty I've been, and I'm so sorry for everything" the sadness in your eyes broke his heart and he softly kissed your nose. "I have a month break next week. Why don't we find somewhere beautiful to travel for 2 weeks of that month, hm?"

You nod, a soft pout still on your lips. "But for now, how can I make up for what I did?"

You smirk. "You put all my clothes away while I take a bath. And you have to make it" Pedro chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth and you placed your hands on his stomach.

Pedro headed to the bathroom and you followed, sitting on the toilet seat cover as you watched him prepare your bath. His iPad with your favorite show, bubbles and bath bombs, even petals.

He turned around and still on his knees, grabbed the back of your thighs and kissed from above your knee to the hem of your shorts, never once breaking eye contact. "You are the most beautiful flower in the gardens of the Heavens" his voice was hoarse, and bit of a whimper slipping off certain letters.

"I'm very close to forgiving you" you let out a hum as you sigh when Pedro pushes up your shirt and kisses below your stomach. Your hand gripped the hair at the back of his neck as his nails scratch down your back.

Pedro stands up and takes off your shirt, mentally moaning at the sight of you wearing no bra. "Your bath awaits, princesa" he kisses your neck and holds your hand as you step in and relax, hitting play on your show. "Enjoy, my flower"

Pedro leaves the bathroom and leaves the door open just a crack. He put the pile of clothes on the bed and sorted them, humming songs as he hung up your shirts and put away pants and socks.

You finished your bath and dried off, leaving the bathroom with his iPad and he laid on the bed with new clothes waiting for you at the foot of the bed, glass of wine next to your side of the bed.

You smile as you get dressed, combing your hair and jumping in bed next to him. His arms wrap around your back and your face squishes in his chest. "I'm sorry, for everything"

Pedro's thumb touched your chin and you smile, pushing your nose against his. "I forgive you. Now, I need you to make up for all of those kisses I never got"

Pedro smirked and grabbed your face, kissing you over and over against as you giggle. Soon the kisses turn slow and your arms wrap around his neck. This is was you needed, craved for months. You waited for this Pedro to come back, your Pedro.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal blurbs #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #rpf #real person fiction

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pedropascallme · 2 years ago

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What about Pedro smut with a tattooed reader and maybe a hint of body worship on both ends? No one can tell me he wouldn’t be the most giving partner. (I’m also on board for it to be Din x reader if you’re not comfy writing smut for Pedro) 💕

AN: This isn't as smutty as I was intending for it to be originally, but I'm in the middle of writing a uuuhhhhh really intense Joel smut fic so. I promise I will make up for the lack of filth in this. Still, I hope you like it!!

If he could, Pedro would live between your thighs; he’d spend every waking our between your legs, parting you with his tongue and feeling you squeeze yourself around his head, hand fisted in his hair. His hands grabbed your hips, holding you firmly down so he could continue his movements while you pulled the hair at the nap of his neck.

“Taste so good.” He moaned into your core, the vibrations traveling through your body. He had made you cum once already, but he was desperate to make you do it again. He rutted into the mattress while he sucked on your clit, delirious with lust over the taste of you. “Please baby, gimme another.”

You arched your back, and he wrapped his lips around your clit once again, nipping and sucking at the swollen bud until he heard you gasping, felt your hand tighten in his hair and attempt to pull him off once it became too much. He couldn’t help the way he lingered, though; how he buried his nose and mouth into you before he finally brought himself up to you at face level.

You were panting, your eyelids heavy as he began tracing a finger gently over the tattoo on your chest. He followed the curve of the linework over your breasts before switching gears and tracing a smaller one on your shoulder that fit into the sleeve you had been working on finishing for months now.

“Felt good.” You whispered, looking up at him.

“Tasted good.” He smiled and you let out a contented hum. He pushed himself up and crawled over you, kissing your neck.

“Always taste so good,” He licked a stripe up your throat, “my perfect girl…” You sighed and brought your hands up and around him, grabbing at his back before sliding them back around to his stomach, chest, and then back to his stomach. Maybe it was corny the way you and Pedro were so passionate about each other; there was no question that the two of you were downright obsessed with the other on an emotional and physical level. There was just something that felt so right about worshipping each other, spending time and energy validating one another.

“You always make me feel so good.” You smiled, and he put all his weight on top of you, kissing you behind your ear and using the tattoo behind your lobe as a target. “So pretty, Pedro.”

“Was thinking the same thing about you, baby.” You wrapped yourself around him, enjoying the pressure he was applying to you. “You need to get your sleeve finished. Need more shapes to trace over while you come down.”

“I’m going to. Eventually, I mean.”

“What if you just got my face tattooed really big on your elbow.”

“That would be so hot, I’m sure nobody would notice how fucked up the lines are as long as I told them it was meant to be Pedro Pascal.”

“Damn right.” He smiled wide, flipping you over so that you were lying on top of him; he squeezed you while you settled over him.

“You make me feel so pretty.” You mumbled into his neck.

“Then I’m doing my job right.”

“Do I make you feel pretty?” You pondered aloud.

“So pretty, querida,” He chuckled, “So pretty.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #hehe send me asks #anon ask

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honeyedmiller · 1 year ago

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Hiiiii

I love your writing. I was wondering can you please write a pedro×reader when they realize that they're pregnant and it's just so sudden and unexpected and shock them both?

aww tysm, and yes omg. Pedro would be the sweetest dad ever 🥺

warnings: mentions of nausea and getting sick, unexpected pregnancy, little bit of angst, fluff. no use of y/n.

word count: <1k

“I don’t feel so good again.” You groan, slowly getting up from bed. Pedro watched you worriedly as you scurried to the bathroom to puke out all of the contents in your stomach, again.

You’d been feeling really nauseated and fatigued the past few weeks, and Pedro was getting really concerned about your well-being.

You felt him rub your back gently as he held your hair back, comforting you through your illness.

“Maybe it’s time we go to the doctors, honey. I’m getting really worried about you.” His voice is soft, full of concern.

You nod your head in agreement, tired of feeling like this nearly twenty-four seven now.

So, the next morning, Pedro took you to a private clinic near his house.

“Good morning Mr. Pascal, Mrs. Pascal,” The doctor said, and you blushed at the assumed last name. It made you blush even harder that Pedro didn’t even try to correct the doctor. “What brings you in today?”

“I’ve been feeling really ill recently. I’m constantly nauseated and so exhausted. I thought it was stress from work but I don’t get like this usually when it becomes tough-going.”

The doctor nodded at what you were telling him, and he hummed. “Have you taken any pregnancy tests lately?”

And just as fast as the color rushed to your face, it drained. “No.” You say meekly, looking over at Pedro who looked just as stunned.

You both tried to be so careful… there’s no way you could be pregnant. Right? Right?

“Well, let’s not be too hasty. Let’s run some tests but I will have you take the pregnancy test just to be sure.” The doctor said, and you nodded.

You proceeded to do a series of tests, but the doctor quickly came back with the shocking news.

“It seems you actually are pregnant, ma’am.” He confirmed, showing you the test results in black ink. You couldn’t believe it.

“But I– I don’t understand. I just had my period a few weeks ago.”

“That could’ve actually been implantation bleeding. I’ll give you two a couple of minutes before I get a sonographer in here to do an ultrasound on you, okay? Congratulations.” He smiled at you both, exiting the room.

It seemed like ages that both of you sat in silence before an overwhelming sense of panic surged over you, and you started to cry.

“I’m so sorry.” You kept muttering, covering your face with your hands. Pedro immediately pried your hands from your face as he embraced you tightly, kissing your head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, honey. It takes two to make a baby, right? I have every much responsibility in this, too.”

“But, what are we going to do? You have filming coming up soon, I have my job… we’ve only been together for a year, Pedro. This is–”

“Sh sh, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay,” He cooed, rocking you back and forth slowly. “We’ll figure it out, okay? You can quit your job. I make plenty for the both of us. You can come with me to Vancouver, if that’s something you wanted to do. I’m in this with you every step of the way, baby.”

You cried in his arms for a bit before the sonographer came into the room, rolling in the ultrasound equipment.

She smiled sympathetically at the two of you before instructing you to lay back and lift up your shirt.

“The gel is going to be a bit cold. My apologies.” She says before squirting some onto you, taking the wand and moving it around. You could see a tiny figure in the darkness of what you presumed was your uterus.

“There’s baby,” The sonographer said with a soft smile, pointing to various parts of the body. “Looks like you’re about six weeks along.” She concludes, taking snapshots of the screen.

“Little baby Pascal.” Pedro whispered, looking at the screen and then down at you. His grip on your hand got tighter as he brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it.

The more you both stared at the screen in wonder, the more you both fell in love with your little creation. You knew it wouldn’t be easy with your hectic lives, but if you were to do this with anyone, you were so glad it was with Pedro.

#pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x pregnant!reader #pedro pascal x female reader

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lokischocolatefountain · 1 year ago

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Get ready to open your advent calendar (my tumblr page) for a new fic or drabble or characters played by Pedro Pascal beginning on the 1st of December. A lot of Javier Peña, a bit of Joel Miller and definitely maybe a character I’ve never written for before.

Masterlist

Dec 1: Guess (Din Djarin)

A game of guess goes right in every way both for you and Din, your kind of friend, sort of boss.

Dec 2: Picture (Joel Miller)

Joel knows he shouldn’t, especially with the guilt of his shameful secret sitting heavy in his chest. But there are so many pictures and he’s but a man. (Part 2 of Mr. Miller. Part 1: Secret)

Dec 3: For Old Time’s Sake (Javier Peña)

Chapter 1 of my new series ‘Red Tape, Red Line’

He’d won. Or at least that was what the ambassador had said. It was hard to feel victorious when crushed under the boot of DC bureaucracy. The job wouldn’t be finished. Not until the hearings ended. Not until he got key informants out. With his old friend nestled high up in bureaucracy, he wouldn’t complain if he got some help crossing the red tape. He sure wouldn’t complain if, in the process, they crossed some red lines.

Day 4: No fic. Took a mental health day.

Day 5: Setting Boundaries (Javier Peña)

Javi realizes he can’t have his cake and eat it too. (Part of the Married!Javi series, but can be read as a standalone)

Day 6: Daddy Issues (Din Djarin)

You and Din have Daddy Issues— your dad hates him— but you both get past it for now.

Day 7: Seven (Javier Peña)

You and Javi discuss children

Day ?: Vintage (Din Djarin)

In an alternate universe where Din Djarin is on Earth and the razor crest is his motorcycle that won’t stop breaking down, you offer your services as a mechanic. It doesn’t matter that it’s a piece of work. It doesn’t matter that it requires a lot of rare old parts. He pays well. And it doesn’t hurt that he looks good in a leather jacket.

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lionlena · 2 years ago

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His Curls (PedroPascalxreader)

Inspired by this post from @pedrotonin

I don't know if you expected this, but... I wrote it. It's short and a bit silly.

You loved your job and you were used to famous people. You were a hair stylist for models, singers, journalists... You were good at what you did and always kept the highest professionalism.

However, Pedro Pascal was your weakness. Your Achilles heel.

You told yourself it was because you were his new stylist. You had to get to know his hair, adjust the cut, select the best conditioners...

But that was a lie.

The truth was that when Pedro first walked through your door, you were immediately struck by the light and warmth emanating from him. This man was just a walking sun. A human golden retriever puppy.

It was impossible not to love him. He was kind, modest, and smelled so good. He talked to you about all sorts of things and made you laugh with his silly jokes.

You tried to be very careful while combing his hair. You made sure not to do or say anything inappropriate.

But today Pedro told you he had a bad night and you told him to take a nap. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. People working in show business were overworked and often fell asleep in your chair.

He told you that you are an angel and you tried to hide your blush.

You're used to Pedro not closing his mouth.

Silence was also bad for your mind. Your thoughts began to revolve around Pedro. You wondered why he was having a bad night.

Did he have nightmares?

Oh, you imagined hugging him and whispering comforting words.

Or was he at a party?

A video of Pedro dancing appeared in your head.

Oh, his moves were so sexy.

You bit your lip and shook your head. You had to focus.

You started to massage his soft curls with conditioner when another intrusive thought took over your mind.

Or maybe he had an intimate night with some woman.

Images of Pedro, shirtless with his hair disheveled, flashed through your mind. Your hand sank into his hair. You grabbed his curls and pulled him towards you.

You heard his moan and...

Oh my god! You understood what you did. Your cheeks turned a deep red blush.

" Pedro, oh god... I'm sorry, I... I..."

You dared to look at him and then you noticed it. Pedro was blushing too.

One sec! The moan you heard... Was it a moan of pain or...

Oh god, oh god, oh god!!!

He covered his crotch with his hand. He cleared his throat and smiled shyly at you.

"Maybe next time before we get into the hair-pulling thing, you'll let me invite you to dinner?"

"With pleasure."

Pedro gave you his sweetest smile. He sat down more comfortably in the chair and said:

"Wonderful. I can't wait."

You nodded and went back to gently styling his hair. The smile never left your face.

Taglist: @deansgirl79

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/lionlena/717577458143117312/his-curls-pedropascalxreader-part-2?source=share

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/lionlena/717696242092769280/his-curls-pedropacalxreader-part-3?source=share

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal and you #pedro pascal fanfiction #i dont know what im doing

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softpascalito · 1 year ago

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Pedro Pascal Kinktober Day Twentysix (SFW)

Tying a tie - Javier Peña/F!Reader

Summary: Javier resigns from the DEA. You both reflect on your life in Colombia while you help him get ready. You also discuss what is about to follow.

Relationships: Javier Peña x F!Reader

WC: 1600

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Anxiety, Established Relationship, Crying, Moving On, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Sad Javier Peña (Narcos), Javier Peña Needs a Hug (Narcos), no beta we die like colonel carrillo

AO3 LINK

notes: my apologies for two sad days in a row. if you want to listen to a song while reading, i highly recommend swan song by lana del rey (bc what would a javi fic be without lana).

_________________________________________

Your hands smooth over the striped tie, tracing the lines that run across it. When your hands reach the edge of the soft fabric, they don't stop, instead continuing a now invisible line on the white dress shirt. You've touched it up this morning, making sure to remove the little crinkles that somehow return after every wear and usually seem impossible to get rid of.

Today, the shirt sits perfectly on him, a little strained by his broad shoulder, a tight fit, like all his clothes.

Your finger reaches his side, stopping at the seam that runs down from his arms. As you stretch your hand, gently placing your palm against the white fabric, you finally register movement below it, a gentle shift as a sigh leaves the man in front of you. The vibration of it carries through his body and you can feel it in your hand.

For a moment, you just stand there, considering if it's possible to transfer the stress that the body below your fingers holds onto you, if you can take any of it away. He carries it so well but he's been carrying it for so long and you know he's tired. So are you.

You refuse to lower your palm, pressing it into his skin a little harder, his soft stomach below adjusting to accommodate your hand as it stays firmly pressed against him.

It must be possible, to take the sadness, the anger, to extract it from the form that holds it. If you'd just find an opening, the one that holds the floodgates, you're certain it would come out in waves, pouring down on you.

“Querida.”

Javier's voice is gentle as he speaks, low like he doesn't want to disturb anyone. Not that there's anyone to disturb, except maybe the cat that is stretched out on the windowsill, half asleep, half watching the two people who are standing in the middle of the room.

“Maybe I should go with the other tie,” he mutters and you shake your head, moving your hand back and forth slightly so that it caresses his stomach, “I'm not letting you wear a clip-on tie to your resignation.”

He seems to see your point because his head droops a tiny bit as he nods, looking down at his chest once more. His chocolate brown eyes watch your hand, back and forth, back and forth.

“Okay,” he almost whispers and your eyes meet as you watch him carefully, already recognizing the signs of slight panic in his form. His jaw clenched to one side, his hand hanging down next to his body and nervously twitching, the movements of his eyes a little faster than usual.

“What if we're making the wrong choice? If the money runs out-” His voice breaks and you're almost certain your heart breaks with it.

You're awfully aware of the things he's considering, the pros and cons of leaving the DEA behind for good, of returning home. With you. And a cat.

You haven't talked about it, about the after. It has always been about leaving. It has never been about arriving.

Noone could blame Javi if he didn't want children. Blame either of you, really. But you have a feeling that the worries about making a living back home has something to do with that possibility. There was always going to be another bad guy, another cartel to take down, another big player to hunt. There was always money to be made in his job. It's just that the price of making that money has become too high.

You sigh a little, bringing up your free hand to caress his cheek, “Then I'll find something. Well be okay, Javi.”

You really do believe it. You think.

“I know, it's just-” You wait patiently as Javi tries to find the right words, his gaze searching your face as if the answer is hidden somewhere in it, “It just feels so final.”

It takes all the strength in you to keep a neutral face, to not let the tears win. You just nod, fingers tracing the mustache above Javis lips.

“Because it is, hermoso,” you mumble, inching a tiny bit closer. The close touch of your other hand is replaced with that of your body as you rest your body against his, connecting as much skin as you possibly can in this moment. The other hand moves steadily over his mustache, stroking the fine, dark hairs that feel just the right amount of scratchy.

“You never have to go back there.”

You lean forward, placing the most gentle kiss on Javis lips as he lowers his gaze, just in time to see your hand fly up and cup his face, another kiss placed on his cheek.

After a moment, he brings his strong arms around you, pulling you in and you do the same, wrapping your arms around his torso, one hand stroking his back.

You pretend not to notice that he cries while you stand there.

Instead, your grip tightens a little, holding him close, silently thanking all the gods of this world that you've made it here, that he is in your arms, that he is yours, all yours. No longer a chess piece for any of his higher-ups, no longer government property. Just yours.

Both of you lose track of time, just staying in each other's arms until you nudge him a little, “I think it's time to go.” His voice is a bit hoarse as he agrees and again, you pretend not to notice.

“That fucking cat is staring at us again,” Javi mutters and a small chuckle escapes you at that as you pull back, beginning to properly bind his tie. Your hands seem to have memorized the motions of it by now, easily placing one piece of fabric over the other, “She's curious. She knows something is happening.”

“Oh, you think?” Javi asks sarcastically but there's a playful note in his tone, “Maybe the two dozen cartons that you've stacked throughout the apartment gave something away.” You gently slap his chest before finishing up the tie, making sure to not pull it too tight.

“There,” you say gently, looking Javier once over and nodding in approval. With a sideway glance at one of the mentioned stacks of cartons that hold parts of your life, you feel a small tug in your chest. And, despite putting on your best, bravest face, through all this, of course Javi instantly sees.

“What is it?” His voice is soft, his gaze back on you as he reaches out to place his hands on your waist, “Did I say something stupid?”

You're quick to shake your head. The last thing you want is for him to worry about you today or worse, to blame himself for yet another thing. Still, he doesn't let up, nudging you a little until you soften enough for the words to tumble out.

“It's weird,” you say quietly, “deciding what to pack, what to leave behind.” He nods and this time it's he who waits patiently for you to continue, “How do you decide which parts of your life are worth taking back?”

The hands on your sides tighten a bit at that and you turn your head back towards him, soft eyes watching you. He seems to consider his words for a moment before speaking.

“I've decided which part I wanna take back.”

It's too honest. So, you shrug a little, trying to make light of it, “You mean the cat, don't you?”

He doesn't go for it. It would be an easy way out, one to avoid digging up those emotions inside both of you that are becoming increasingly harder to push down. Javi's never been one for the easy way.

“You know I wasn't talking about the cat. Even though, yes, she's coming too,” he mumbles and then adds, even more softly, “You know I was talking about you. You're the only part of this godforsaken shitshow I wanna bring home.”

Javi brings his lips forward, resting them against your forehead, letting them linger there. It's like he, too, is trying to exchange something inside of you, trying to let his love seep into your body, warming you from the inside out, filling all the holes, the cracks that the last years have left gaping inside of you.

A soft, strangled noise escapes you at the thought and you're back in his arms in an instant, your face pressed into his chest.

“Querida,” he whispers again and you just pull him closer at that. It's practically guaranteed that you're ruining the shirt, no doubt creating another of those wrinkles that never seem to ease up. Neither of you care.

Javi doesn't pretend not to see your tears. He dries them, patiently, under the watchful eyes of the cat that doesn't seem to understand why its two humans keep crying. You're not sure you humans understand either.

You dry Javier's tears too, after the official resignation. You dry them during the last night in your apartment, when his moans turn into sobs. You dry them on the plane.

And finally, you dry them in Laredo, in the kitchen of Chuchos farm, as you prepare dinner and Javier comes up behind you, crying into your shoulder until you turn around and kiss his tears away and hold him until he stops shaking, taking the sadness and trauma and grief from his body and taking it into your own, whispering into his ear that he's here, that he's home.

Whispering into his ear that he never has to go back.

#javier pena fic #narcos #javier peña imagine #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña / you #javier peña / reader #pedro pascal fandom #softpascalito #kinktober #fanfic #sad #angst #hurt/comfort #anxiety #trauma #ptsd

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popcornforone · 29 days ago

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OCTOBER

From the Marcus Pike Fan Fic Diary

Day 28 of Pedrotober (Any Marcus Prompt)

Pedrotober Masterlist

The Diary Masterlist

September

I was very very tempted to do this away from Pedrotober & just do it as a usual post, but this had been my plan for this month before I knew I was gonna do Pedrotober, so it made sense. If you want to catch up on what’s gone on in the dairy please click for the diary link above.

Synopsis:-You show Marcus his Halloween costume.

Word count:-600

Warnings over & above:- oral sex, teasing, swearing, fantasy’s.Remember this is a diary so it’s written as I.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, my heart of full with all the love you have given me this month it’s the confidence boost I needed. Thanks @norththelemon & @alyssamariag for the prompts. Sorry that they all got smutty.

It’s Halloween diary… already? How are we here… well I know it’s in a couple of days time, but I got to show Marcus his costume today. It arrived in the post well the main part did. I was buzzing for him to look at it & let’s just say he couldn’t contain his laughing.

“The fuck” he cackled. “No im not doing that”

“Why not” i said.

“Because it’s not scary”

“It will be when your make up is done”

“Make up?” He always moans every year that I turn him into a vampire or zombie version of what he actually is. He puts up with it though, just for me, I’m not sure he would for anyone else.

“Come on Marcus”

“I mean I’m still not sure what it even is”

“Make up is actually minimal you can either have your hair done & a little bit of make up or you can put the mask on”

“There’s a mask as well!!” He shook his head wondering how much I’d spent on his outfit when we are meant to be saving.

“Yes” he reaches into the bottom of the bag & looks back at me.

“Seriously”

Out he pulls the mask. Skin colour. Bits looking like it’s about to drop off, woodland deadly vibe, eye holes covered by mesh.

“So I’m either meant to be Joel Miller or an infected from the last of us?”

“Yes”

“I mean I knew you had a thing for Pedro Pascal, but seriously, I look nothing like him”

I then pull my sulky look at him. I’ve mentioned a few times that he’s got a very close resemblance to the actor, especially the eyes hair & how broad he is.

“Please Marcus” I beg.

“Maybe, I think I need some convincing though baby”

I drop to my knees & unbuckle his belt in the middle of the kitchen. He hadn’t even bargained with me. I wanted to make him feel good.

“Would this help you change your mind” I unzipped him in a few seconds.

“Hmmm could do”

How he moaned & griped the kitchen counter as I took his entire length into his mouth.

“Fuck baby, I love it when your so needy”

“Finally got an apitite for something”

“Better than bananas on toast”

All of those words he said we met with long drawn out moans.

I was so sloppy with my blow job, he didn’t care. His eyes were rolling, he just kept moaning my name telling me to not stop. I wasn’t going to. He was in seventh heaven. I’ve not seen him looked this blissed out since the Bahamas, that waterfall will never be forgotten. As water streamed from my eyes & I gagged for what felt like the 50th time, salty liquid seeped down my throat. He’s always so tangy. He’s a real treat to taste. I swallowed it like a good girl. Licking my lips loudly to make him continue to twitch as I cleaned him up too.

“Oooh baby” he moaned as he helped me up onto my feet. “You still got it”

“I never lost it”

It took him a few seconds to regain composure & return to reality before he asked me what I was wearing for Halloween.

“Your favourite baby… I’m going as a zombie Lara Croft but with fishnets”

His jaw dropped. That is not an exaggeration.

Let’s just say our kitchen worked up lots of appetites, what’s he gonna be like when I put that costume on in a few days time… will we even get to the party?

November

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latoyalestrange · 1 year ago

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THE FOOL

p. pascal x f!oc

Masterlist | Playlist

the long awaited chapter eight! apologies for the delay folks. i just started a new job and my husband is in the process of finding a new job as well so things have been very stressful. but its here!

Summary: Things weren't as 'fine' as Josh had led Naela to believe. She seeks Pedro's company for comfort.

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: mutual pining, toxic!bf, sexist words, steamy makeout dream w pedro, toxic relationship, hurt and comfort, bad spanish, major angst and self-esteem issues, not edited

Taglist: @marvel-sw-lover , @lokislittle , @red-red-rogue , @babukat , @joels-darlin , @weho2kcmo , @violac0la , @poodlebae , @darleneslane

comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

CHAPTER EIGHT -- WILD DREAMS

"Te sientes tan bien," You feel so good.

Naela wasn't sure how she got here, but when she felt his hands grasp at her hips, she couldn't care less. He trapped her frame beneath him on her bed, letting his hands roam her body. Their bodies rolled together, making her desperate for more. It was almost pathetic with how good his hands felt as they greedily pulled her closer.

"Eres todo mio, Naela." You're all mine. He growled, his lips grazing her ear before they attatched to her neck, leaving love bites scattered across the skin. Slowly his lips traveled down her chest, across her stomach and down to the hem of her underwear. He lingered there for a moment, peppering kisses on the lowest part of her stomach and toying with the sides of her underwear. She felt her heart drop as he slowly pulled the fabric down, leaving her exposed.

She looked down at him with a nervous, but needy look in her eye. A wide, hungry smile spread across his lips as he took in the sight of her. He wasted no time dipping his head under the duvet and draping it over her lower half to comfort her. She shivered as she felt his hands guide her knees apart. His lips were back on her skin in an instant, this time starting at her knee, and working up toward her center. His scruff pricked the iside of her thighs as he grew closer, closer...

Before she could get any once of relief, her eyes flew open and were instantly blinded by the morning sun glaring in her eyes. She groaned, covering her eyes and curling up under the warm covers. She felt around for her phone and found it underneath her back. She brought it up to her face, squinting at the blurry numbers on her lock screen. Seven fifty-one. She let her device fall onto the pillow and rubbed her eyes, blinking her strange dream away. She debated going back to sleep, in fact she tried. But something, maybe her intuition, maybe her need to use the restroom, told her to get up. She listened to that voice and rose to her feet, but not before she stretched out her tense back. After a few moments of yawning, she planted her feet on the cold floorboards and made her way out of her bedroom and into the hallway that the bathroom was connected to.

She knew her boyfriend was likely getting ready to leave for his job at a smaller-scale bank, so she wasn't surprised by the glow and the steam that rolled through the narrow opening in the door. However, she was surprised to hear him talking to someone. Not thinking too deeply into it, she casually advanced to go inside, but instantly halted once she heard her name. His voice was muffled at first, but now that she was touching the door, she could hear his words clearly.

"Yeah, did you see the trailer that came out yesterday? The show is practically a porno."

Her face instantly fell. She recalled watching the trailer at her mother's house with him and her family the night before.

Naela held her breath as she let the trailer play. She knew what it would show, and she tried to explain it to her mother. Unfortunately, the woman only insisted, and she wasn't backing down. She was going to watch that trailer and celebrate with her daughter whether she liked it or not.

As the dreaded clip played, though, Naela was regretting giving in. She avoided eye contact with everyone as she saw the scene she had tried so hard to forget. Pedro's muscular arms trapping her beneath him, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm together, and her all-to-convincing expression as he peppered kisses along her neck. As quickly as the scene appeared, it was replaced by more clips showing off the action in the show. Before she knew it, the trailer was over.

"Oh, wow, Mija! My baby is a star!" Mrs. Rivera exclaimed, clutching her chest with the widest smile on her face. She pulled her daughter in for a tight hug, giggles escaping her mouth as they swayed back and forth on the couch.

Relief.

Once they released, Naela finally got a good look at her boyfriend's expression; deadpan as he stared at the paused TV. She frowned; she was completely transparent with him once she got the full script. She distinctly remembered detailing that specific scene.

"What did you think, Josh?" Sebastian prodded as he sat next to Josh, urging him to be supportive. Josh unclenched his jaw and smiled unenthusiastically.

"Looks cool," he responded casually. "I think people are gonna like it." His comment eased her a bit, but for the rest of the night, she was on edge, just waiting for him to say something or start a fight. But he didn't. She begged for him to tell he what was wrong when they got home, but he assured her again and again that he was fine.

So, what was the problem?

"Nah, she won't dump me. She doesn't have the confidence." His laugh was maniacal, almost cruel. Naela froze. How are you supposed to react to something like this?

"Listen bro, I gotta get off of here. I have to get to work." Like switch flipped, she broke out of her trance and ran back to the safety of her bedroom. If she knew Josh, she knew he would find a way to spin in around on her for listening to his phone call. She sat quietly on her bed until she heard her door open and close again. Tears instantly started trickling down her face and she slowly let the hurt wash over her.

Naela wasn't crying because she knew her relationship with Josh was over. She wasn't ready to accept that yet. Josh was her first boyfriend, her first everything for that matter. She'd spent so much time trying to help him be better and changing herself to make him happy. To her virtue and her fault, she was irrevocably committed to him.

Who the hell was she kidding with Pedro anyway? He could have any girl he wanted. In fact, his manager probably already had the next publicity stunt lined up. Someone prettier, more mature, more of everything Naela wasn't.

So in that moment, Naela decided to stay. She would stay quiet to keep him. He wasn't the best option, but he was safe.

A while later, when Naela had stopped crying and had resorted to staring at the wall, her phone began to buzz.

Mike Manager

Naela rolled her eyes and audibly voiced her disgust before reluctantly answering the call.

"What, Michael?" Her voice gave away her hurt with a nasally tone.

"I--...You okay?"

She scoffed, "I'm fine, what is it?"

"Just don't forget to meet Pedro for lunch today, okay?"

Of course. The day after the trailer came out, they were meant to be spotted at a cafe in downtown. Although it wasn't directly her manager's fault, she felt like she had every right to take out some of her frustration on him. Before he could get out another word, she hung up on him.

She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. She sincerely debated not going, but ultimately decided it was better to go out than to cry in bed all day. Eventually, she convinced herself to stand up and get ready. She put on some light makeup, and for clothes, a pair of cream corduroy pants with a mauve fitted top.

She stopped to look at herself in her full length mirror. Putting on a a good outfit always seemed to cheer her up, albeit a very small amount this time. She sighed and reached over to her bedside table and plucked her favorite perfume from the display. She sprayed all of her pressure points and noticed her phone buzzing again as she put the bottle away. This time, the name on the screen tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Incoming FaceTime

Pedro

She scrambled to hold her phone up at the right angle and fixed her hair before accepting the call. Suddenly his face appeared, a new even scruff coming in across his his sharp jaw. His dark, wavy hair was dripping wet, and his bare chest was glistening with water droplets as he stood in what looked like his bathroom.

Naela could’ve sworn her best was beating out of her chest as the sight. Did he know what this was doing to her?

“Oooh, you look pretty.” A cheeky smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of her.

She tried to play it cool, responding with “Aw, thank you!” and repositioning her phone so her blush was cut off.

“I just wanted to see what you were wearing so you don’t look all gorgeous and I’m just— there,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. Naela had to remind herself that it wasn't a real date as she propped her phone up on her perfume and posed for him.

"Okay, okay," She could see his eyes move up and down her body. "So, no matter what I wear, you'll look much better than me. Got it." She let her head fall back with laughter, feeling her pain wash away by the second.

"I think your fans would disagree," she shot back, unable to hide her flushed cheeks from the frame.

“Well don’t listen to the handful of people that say that. They don’t know what they’re talking about.” His tone grew sincere, then angry. He clenched his jaw and averted his eyes, subconsciously hiding the rage he felt every time he thought about those comments. (we love a quick to anger aries king)

“I appreciate that, Pedro.” Her sweet voice pulled him back to reality. In an instant, he was back to smiling and gazing adoringly at her.

Close to an hour later, he was doing the same thing as he saw her approaching the patio of the restaurant. He put out the cigarette he was smoking on the concrete and stood to pull out her chair as she neared. The first thing she noticed was his outfit, a cream sweater and dusty purple dress pants to match her. She chuckled and shook her head.

"What, you don't like the outfit?" He asked with a confident smirk. She lowered herself into the chair, looking up at him with an amorous stare, a cheeky smile peeking through.

“You look great, Pedro.” He seemingly brushed it off, pushing in her chair for her without another comment.

“So how much time do we have before this cafe turns into a zoo exhibit?” She continued, earning a hearty laugh from him as he took his seat across from her.

“Not sure,” he replied quickly before changing the subject. “How was your morning?” He instantly noticed a shift in her expression as she hesitated to answer.

“It was fine,” she answered unconvincingly.

Pedro raised his eyebrows, “Really?” Before she could come up with a smart reply, they suddenly noticed the waitress joining them at the edge of the table.

“Hello, how are you guys?” Throughout her mandatory speech, Naela noticed her ogling Pedro and refusing to look at anyone else.

“Can I just get a black coffee, and the lady will have the frozen mango lemonade,” he answered confidently, a polite smile on his face. Naela blinked, taken aback by the way he spoke for her.

“Did you just— how did you even know I liked mango?”

He looked confused as well, almost like it was casual, “Oh, I saw you at the airport drinking something similar. I can ask for something else—“

“No, no, it sounds good,” she trailed off, returning his smile before averting her eyes to her lap.

“Don’t think I forgot you dodged my question, Rivera.” His tone turned sultry, more serious, but his teasing smirk implied otherwise. She rolled her eyes, unable to surpress the rouge creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks.

“Josh and I had a bit of a fight this morning, I guess. It’s nothing,” she brushed it off, giving him the most convincing expression she could muster.

“Okay, I won’t press. If you ever need someone to talk to, though…” He didn’t even have to finish.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” She agreed just above a whisper, bringing her hands up to massage her temples. After a moment of comfortable silence, she felt his hand gently curl around her own and rub circles on the inside of her wrist as it rested on the table. He looked endearingly into her eyes, making it hard to keep eye contact. Instead she looked around at the bustling street the cafe was on, seeing no sign of any fans or paparazzi. Her heart fluttered as she turned back to him, who’s eyes had never shifted.

“They’re not here yet, you don’t have to—“

“Naela,” he said abruptly, gazing deeply into her eyes.

“Yes?” she responded, chuckling akwardly.

“No one’s coming.” His smile turned sheepish as her eyes widened. “I told them we were going to a different cafe,” he continued.

“You don’t think we’ll get in trouble?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll tell ‘em it was all my idea. Let’s just enjoy the time we have before they notice, yeah?” She nodded, savoring how their hands lingered, intertwined at the center of the table.

Pedro’s ruse bought them until the end of their meal to be alone. Only a handful of photographers showed up, but it was still enough to make her feel like the entertainment. Luckily, they were already on their way out.

“I'm parked close. Don't answer any questions, just get to the car." Pedro linked his arm across her back, and gently pulled her into his chest as they neared the door. She nodded, too distracted by the small crowd pressed up against the door to notice his protective gesture.

"I've got you, okay?" He reassured her after clocking her nervous expression. She tried to force the corners of her moth down, but to no avail. She nodded once more, avoiding his eyes.

"Okay," he braced himself before hoisting the heavy door open and exposing them to the flashing lights and invasive questions.

"How long have you been together?"

"Was the chemistry on camera real?"

"How does it feel going from zero to being Pedro Pascal's girlfriend?"

Okay, rude. She wasn't a zero. Maybe a two and a half.

Pedro used his arm as a shield as he pushed through the cesspool of thirsty reporters. After some resistance, Pedro was able to push through to the passenger door of his car, instantly opening it for her. Naela climbed in not-so-gracefully, practically falling into the seat. She had a moment to glance around the vehicle as Pedro made his way to the opposite side. It was impressively clean, with only a gym bag in the backseat and lip balm in the middle console. She found a faint familiarity in the scent, a ghost of him filing her senses. It was soon replaced by the real thing as he jumped into the car as well. With his chest heaving, he smiled over at her, holding back laughter.

"Holy shit," he huffed, "I'm getting too old for this."

Naela laughed, "Step on it, Grandpa!" Pedro wheezed at her teasing before buckling in and driving away, careful not to hurt anyone that crowded around the car. There was comfortable silence for a moment as he started on the route to Naela's apartment complex. Naela gazed absentmindedly out the window, a soft smile lingering on her lips. She felt safe, and content for the first time in a while.

"I'm sorry again, Naela." She instantly turned toward him, shaken out of her daydream to see his fallen expression and his adorable brown doe-eyes glaring sympathetically back at her.

"Sorry?" She quirked her head to the side, taken aback by his sudden apology.

"I'm sorry you have to do all of this. That you didn't get the choice," he confessed, unable to face her comforting look.

"Pedro--" She was cut off by the dull ringing of the bluetooth on his car. The caller ID Manager popped up on the screen. Pedro glanced over at her before answering it.

"What's up, Nick?" He asked cautiously.

"So you decided to go somewhere different last minute, huh?" The man said in a knowing tone.

"Yeah, the waitlist was like two hours at the first place." Pedro couldn't help but break a smile as he lied. He looked to Naela, who was covering her mouth to keep herself from chuckling.

"Sure, sure...just know the studio isn't gonna let it fly a second time, Pedro." He warned him. It was clear he was slightly amused by the situation.

"Gotcha. Thanks for covering for me."

"Yeah, yeah." Then, the line disconnected, leaving them a giggling mess.

"Guess that's the last private date we're getting." She didn't realize she used the "D" word at first, but she wasn't about to take it back. He furrowed his brow, scoffing at her words.

"No one said that," he teased, smirking over at her. He kept it to himself, but he could definitely get used to the sight of her in his passenger seat. She suppressed her smile by biting the inside of her cheek, then turned away once it failed. Flustered, she stayed mostly quiet for the rest of the drive. Soon, they reached her building, and Pedro was getting out of the car with her. She found herself scouring her memory to find out of Josh would be in her apartment, which brought her back to the events of that morning. Even if Josh weren't home, it would be wrong to invite Pedro in, no matter how badly she wanted to.

"This one's me," she said awkwardly, her eyes glued to her keys as she fumbled her keychain in her hands. She eventually found the right key and stuck it in the door, starting to step in before Pedro's hand grasped her arm.

"Hey--" he started, trailing off as she turned to face him. He gazed down at his grip on her and quickly dropped it, realizing he overstepped. God, he hated this phase. He wanted to skip to the end where she told him she was leaving that stupid boy.

"When can I see you again?" he asked honestly, that was all he cared about. She was stunned for a second, trying to choose between saying what she wanted or what she should say.

"Um...the premier is in two weeks. I'll see you then?" She answered, more in the tone of a question. He sighed, but hid his disappointment with a final, pained smile.

"Sure, yeah...a car is probably gonna come at a time, I don't know what time..." he stammered out.

Damn. Hurting him was proving to be the worst side effect of facing the truth. She told herself over and over in her head; it was all business. He could have anyone he wanted, and there was no way he would choose the naive twenty-five-year-old. At least she knew where she stood with Josh.

She thanked him with the look in her eyes as she gently stroked his cheek. It took all of the restraint in Pedro's body not to stop her again as she finally retreated inside her apartment. He stood outside her door for a long moment, denying that he needed to leave for as long as possible. Eventually, after cursing himself under his breath, he walked away, sulking to the elevator.

On the other side of the same door, Naela hesitated as well. If she was doing what was right, why did it have to hurt so much? Why did she hate every minute he was gone?

He didn't love her, not really. He never would have looked her way if they weren't forced together.

Right?

reblog if you made it to the end!

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