#pedro gifs

[andy-15-07]

Hiiii.! Can you do a Pedro x reader, she's his bartender. Super flirty, they go clubbing public hook up.?

A Night of Temptation

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2262| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

It was a slow Thursday night at The Ember—a downtown bar known for its edgy cocktails, pulsating music, and a clientele that craved something more than the ordinary. You, Y/N, stood behind the bar with practiced ease, mixing drinks and exchanging flirty smiles with regulars. As a plus-size bartender with a magnetic charm and an effortless swagger, you had the uncanny ability to make every customer feel special. But tonight, something was different. There was a buzz in the air, an anticipation that made your pulse quicken.

Around 10 PM, as the club lights began to pulse in time with the deep bass of a DJ’s set, the door swung open, and in walked Pedro. His warm smile and charismatic presence immediately drew the attention of everyone in the room. Dressed in a fitted leather jacket and dark jeans, he moved with a confident grace that made hearts flutter—even yours. You had always admired his rugged charm and the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. Tonight, however, there was an extra spark in his gaze as he made his way over to the bar.

“Hey there,” Pedro said, his voice low and inviting as he leaned casually on the counter. “Could I trouble you for your best drink?”

You grinned, already enjoying the playful energy between you two. “Of course, handsome,” you replied with a wink. “What’s your poison tonight? Something to match that daring look of yours?”

He chuckled, glancing around the buzzing bar before settling his eyes on you. “Surprise me,” he said, his tone laced with mischief. “I trust your taste.”

As you began crafting a specialty cocktail—a creation of tangy citrus and a hint of spice that you called the “Liquid Fire”—the conversation flowed easily. The music pulsed around you, the neon lights flickered, and every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you a bit longer than necessary.

“So, Y/N,” he began as you slid the drink across the bar, “what do you love most about working here?”

You paused, letting your eyes wander over the crowded room. “I’d say it’s the energy—the unpredictability of the night. You never know who’s going to walk through that door, or what kind of magic is about to happen,” you said, your tone soft and flirtatious.

Pedro’s smile deepened. “I can see that. And tonight, I feel like magic,” he murmured, his gaze intense. “I must admit, I’m usually not one to make a scene, but there’s something about this place… and you.”

The compliment made you blush, and you leaned in conspiratorially. “Oh? And what exactly do you find so mesmerizing?” you asked, your voice dropping to a playful whisper.

“Your confidence, your laughter… the way you mix passion into every drink you serve,” Pedro replied, his tone earnest. “I mean, look at you—commanding the room, yet so warm and inviting. It’s irresistible.”

Before you could respond, the DJ announced a new set, and the energy in the bar shifted. The Ember wasn’t just a bar tonight—it was a full-blown club. With the promise of dancing and uninhibited fun in the air, Pedro leaned closer. “I have an idea,” he said, his eyes dancing with anticipation. “How about we take this conversation somewhere a bit… more lively?”

A thrill shot through you. “I thought you’d never ask,” you replied with a playful laugh. “Let’s hit the club then.”

Moments later, you and Pedro stepped out into the cool night, leaving the familiar comfort of the bar behind. The city’s neon glow beckoned, and soon you found yourselves at Club Inferno—a pulsating hotspot known for its eclectic mix of music, sensual ambiance, and a crowd that lived for the moment.

Inside, the club was a riot of color and sound. The beat of the music vibrated through your body as you moved together to the rhythm. Pedro’s hand found yours, and the chemistry between you was palpable. Amid the flashing lights and swirling dancers, you navigated the crowded dance floor, sharing flirtatious glances and soft laughter that drowned out the music.

“Isn’t this just electrifying?” Pedro shouted over the pulsing bass, his voice intimate despite the chaos around you.

You nodded, leaning into him. “Absolutely. There’s nothing like losing yourself in the moment,” you replied, your voice carrying a mix of excitement and desire.

Between songs, you both found moments to steal away to quieter corners of the club. In one such secluded booth, lit only by the dim red glow of overhead lights, Pedro’s eyes locked onto yours.

“You know,” he said softly, “I’ve been thinking about you all night. The way you command the bar, your confidence, your smile… I can’t get enough.”

You felt your heart flutter as his words sent shivers down your spine. “And I’ve been drawn to you since the moment you walked in,” you admitted, your tone husky with desire. “There’s something about you, Pedro, that makes me want to let go—completely.”

He grinned, his hand sliding to brush a stray hair away from your face. “Maybe we should find somewhere a little more private,” he suggested, his eyes darkening with intensity. “I want to show you just how irresistible you are.”

Before you could reply, the crowd’s energy seemed to shift around you, as if the universe itself were urging you on. The next song began, a slow, seductive rhythm that beckoned you closer. Unable to resist, you and Pedro drifted together to a quieter area near the edge of the dance floor—an alcove shielded by a thick curtain of ambient lights and swirling silhouettes.

“Here,” Pedro whispered, pulling you gently against him. “Let’s make this moment ours.”

The world around you melted away as his lips found yours. It was a kiss charged with longing, playful yet undeniably intense. The taste of his kiss was intoxicating—a blend of mischief, promise, and raw desire that left you breathless. In the haze of the club, with the pulsing beat as your soundtrack, you surrendered to the pull between you.

“God, Y/N,” Pedro murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need. “You drive me crazy. I’ve wanted this all night.”

You laughed softly, your fingers threading through his hair. “Show me what you’ve been holding back,” you teased, your tone both daring and inviting.

The heat between you built with every heartbeat as the club’s energy seemed to amplify your desires. Surrounded by a sea of dancing bodies and neon light, you both knew that tonight was a night of freedom—of letting go and embracing the thrill of the moment.

“Let’s be bold,” Pedro said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Let’s forget about everything else and just… be.”

You nodded, feeling the surge of adrenaline and passion. “I’m with you,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

The music swelled as you both moved into an even more secluded area—a narrow corridor that led to an outdoor terrace overlooking the city skyline. Here, the air was cooler, the noise of the club softened into a distant hum, and the stars shone above like silent witnesses to your unfolding passion.

Standing together under the night sky, Pedro’s hand still clasped tightly in yours, you could feel the intensity of the moment. “You’re incredible, Y/N,” he murmured, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re fierce, confident, and… utterly captivating.”

The sincerity in his voice sent warmth spreading through you. “And you, Pedro, have this way of making every moment feel like an adventure,” you replied, your eyes meeting his in a deep, unspoken understanding. “I love how you embrace life—the spontaneity, the passion, the willingness to dive headfirst into the unknown.”

Pedro’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer. “I can’t help but be drawn to you. Every glance, every smile—it’s like you set my heart on fire. I want to experience every moment of this night with you.”

Before you could respond, the space between you disappeared as he pulled you into a fierce kiss. The kiss deepened, full of promise and exploration, as you both surrendered to the magnetic pull that had brought you together. In that kiss, amid the cool night air and the distant hum of the club, you discovered a freedom you hadn’t known before—a liberation of body and soul.

“Pedro,” you whispered against his lips, your voice barely audible, “I want you… right here, right now.”

His response was a soft, approving murmur as he broke the kiss just enough to whisper in your ear. “Then let’s not wait any longer, beautiful,” he said, his tone both commanding and tender. “Let’s make this moment unforgettable.”

The world around you blurred into a background of dim lights and soft music as Pedro’s hands roamed your body, igniting sparks with every touch. In that outdoor haven, shielded from prying eyes yet still tantalizingly public, you both embraced the thrill of the forbidden—a passionate hook-up that was as daring as it was intoxicating.

Between passionate kisses and whispered declarations, the dialogue between you grew louder in your minds—even if the words were lost amidst the music and night air. Every shared breath, every teasing laugh, built an intimacy that transcended the physical. You and Pedro weren’t just sharing a moment; you were weaving together a tapestry of desire, trust, and unspoken promises.

“You’re so amazing, Y/N,” Pedro murmured as he traced the curve of your neck with reverence. “I love the way you challenge me, the way you let me see every part of you—fearless, raw, and so beautifully alive.”

Your heart pounded in response, each word stoking the flames of your desire. “And I love you for it,” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. “You make me feel seen, like every part of me matters.”

The conversation, though muted by the heat of passion, flowed freely as you both explored the boundaries of the night. Pedro’s playful yet tender dirty talk mingled with gentle caresses, each word and touch drawing you deeper into the realm of shared ecstasy. The thrill of a public rendezvous added an edge of exhilaration, making every stolen moment feel like a secret shared between just the two of you.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Pedro whispered, his eyes dark with desire as he pressed close, “do you feel that too? The way tonight makes us forget everything but the intensity of our connection?”

You nodded, your voice husky with need. “I feel it, Pedro. Tonight, nothing else exists but you and me. The world fades away, and all I can see is the passion in your eyes.”

His reply was a soft, fervent laugh as he captured your lips in another searing kiss. “Then let’s make sure this night leaves a mark—one that we’ll both remember every time we see the stars.”

For what felt like an eternity, you both lost yourselves in that kiss, the cool night air mingling with the heat of your passion. Every whispered word and every tender touch reaffirmed the bond between you, a connection that was as spontaneous as it was profound.

As the night wore on and the distant sounds of the club faded into the background, you and Pedro finally pulled back, both breathless and glowing in the moonlight. The public hook-up had been daring, a wild dance on the edge of propriety, yet in every stolen glance and every whispered promise, you found something deeper—a mutual respect and affection that transcended the fleeting thrill of the moment.

Sitting side by side on a wrought-iron bench, the city lights twinkling in the distance, Pedro rested his head gently on your shoulder. “Thank you for tonight, Y/N,” he said softly. “For taking a chance, for being bold, for sharing this adventure with me.”

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “Thank you, Pedro, for showing me what it means to truly live in the moment,” you replied. “Tonight was about passion, about connection—and about knowing that sometimes, the best parts of life are those spontaneous moments that take your breath away.”

As the first hints of dawn began to break over the horizon, you both sat in comfortable silence, the memories of the night etched into your hearts. In that quiet moment, it was clear that the connection you shared wasn’t just about the thrill of a public escapade—it was about something real, something that promised more nights of laughter, passion, and shared dreams.

Later, as you walked Pedro back to his apartment under the soft glow of streetlights, the dialogue between you remained playful and tender. “So,” Pedro said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “when are we doing this again? I have a feeling that tonight was only the beginning.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of promise. “I’m already looking forward to our next adventure,” you replied, your hand slipping into his. “After all, every great story needs another chapter.”

In that moment, as you embraced the uncertainty and beauty of the night, you knew that your connection with Pedro was something rare and wonderful. It wasn’t just about the flirtatious glances, the steamy kisses, or the daring public hook-up—it was about two souls daring to live authentically, to embrace every passionate moment, and to write their own story with every beat of their hearts.

And so, as the night gave way to the soft light of a new day, you and Pedro stepped forward together—into a future filled with endless possibilities, wild adventures, and the unyielding promise of love that burned brighter than any neon light in the city.

[filmgifs]

Tony Curtis and Sidney Poitier The Defiant Ones (1958) dir. Stanley Kramer

[dilfgifs]

ERIC DANE Grey's Anatomy 3.03 "Sometimes a Fantasy"

[theetherealbloom]

Whole Package, Babe, I Like The Way You Fit

Summary: Holiday beach trip with Pedro and friends.

Or, that one new Pedro shirtless pic…

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Beach Trip, Light Blood, Scratch, Ocean, Swimming, Swimwear, Shirtless Pedro, Light SMUT, Spicy, Sweet, Implied SMUT, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: The mf decided to give us shirtless Pedro and suddenly I have the will to live again LMAO. Weirdly enough, I am also at the beach while writing this so it’s kinda a funny coincidence… Imagine if we were at the same beach, that would be so funny (He can never know my existence I might die.)

No one ask me how I knew what hotel they were staying at. I scare myself too dw.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

| Main Masterlist |

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — DAY

The warm tropical breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean as you stepped onto the soft, powdery sand of the secluded beach Pedro’s friends had chosen for the Christmas getaway. The sun kissed your skin, palm trees swayed lazily overhead, and the gentle rhythm of waves provided the perfect soundtrack for a holiday escape.  

The group—Lauren Alexander, Brandan Campbell, Omar Apollo, and Pedro’s ever-charismatic agent, Franklin Latt—had already claimed a prime spot near the water. Lounge chairs were lined up under brightly colored umbrellas, a massive cooler sat brimming with ice and drinks, and Omar was enthusiastically attempting to set up a speaker while humming the latest tune stuck in his head.  

Pedro lagged a few steps behind you, carrying your beach bag and his, though his attention wasn’t on the task. It was on you.  

When you shrugged off your airy cover-up, revealing a stunning red bikini that hugged your curves just right, Pedro froze mid-step. His sunglasses couldn’t hide the way his jaw tightened or how his eyes darkened as they roamed over you.  

“Everything okay there?” you teased, tilting your head as you caught him staring.  

Pedro blinked, visibly gathering himself. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” He cleared his throat, but his gaze didn’t waver. “More than fine.”  

You smirked, adjusting the straps of your bikini for good measure. “You’re staring.”  

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, taking a step closer. His voice dipped, low and husky. “You look... breathtaking.”  

A flush crept up your neck, but you refused to let him win so easily. “Not too bad yourself,” you quipped, lightly poking his chest. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of his tan skin and the gold chain that rested against his collarbone.  

Pedro chuckled, the sound warm and intimate. “If I’d known you’d be wearing this, I’d have hired a bodyguard to keep everyone else from looking.”  

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”  

He leaned in, his hand brushing against your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “Stop being so cute, or I might never let you leave my sight,” he murmured.  

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you teased, your voice playful but your heart racing.  

“Both,” he said, his grin widening as he pulled back to admire you once more.  

From nearby, Omar let out a loud whistle. “Pedro, are you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna help us with this speaker? Some of us want to vibe to music!”  

Pedro groaned, turning reluctantly toward the group but throwing an arm around your shoulders as he led you over. “Fine, but only because she’s coming with me,” he called out, earning a round of laughter.  

As you settled into the setup, the sun beamed overhead, and the carefree energy of the group was infectious. Pedro stayed close, his arm brushing yours as you helped Lauren unpack snacks, and his eyes never strayed far from you.  

At one point, Franklin handed you a coconut with a straw and a cheeky smile. “Best way to stay hydrated,” he said, winking.  

“Cheers,” Pedro said, clinking his coconut against yours. He took a sip before leaning closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But if you spill even a drop, I’m licking it off you.”  

Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on your drink. “Pedro!” you hissed, swatting at him.  

He grinned, unapologetic. “What? I’m just being practical.”  

The day unfolded in easy laughter and warmth, with the sun high overhead and the turquoise ocean sparkling like a field of diamonds. Pedro carried you on his back through the shallows, his hands gripping your thighs as you pretended to be his commanding officer.  

“Faster, soldier!” you commanded, leaning forward and tugging gently at his ears as if steering him.  

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” he called back, mock-serious but laughing as he jogged through the water, sending small waves splashing around you both. “Anything else, ma’am? Should I do some push-ups in the sand too?”  

You grinned wickedly. “Push-ups? I’d like to see you try—with me on your back.”  

Pedro stopped abruptly, twisting his head to glance at you with a raised brow. “Oh, you think I can’t?”  

“I know you can’t,” you teased, leaning down to press your cheek against his.  

He smirked, suddenly spinning in place. “You’re asking for it now.”  

Before you could protest, he dropped into the water with a dramatic splash, sending you tumbling off his back and into the cool embrace of the ocean.  

“Pedro!” you shrieked, surfacing with a gasp and pushing your wet hair out of your face.  

He was already laughing, standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead. “That’s what you get for doubting my strength!”  

“Oh, you’re so dead!” you shouted, lunging toward him.  

Pedro yelped playfully, backpedaling but not fast enough. You caught his arm, laughing as you pulled him down into the water with you. The two of you wrestled like kids, splashing and laughing so hard your stomach hurt.  

“Truce! Truce!” he called out, holding up his hands in surrender as you pelted him with another wave of water.  

“Do you admit defeat?” you demanded, a triumphant grin on your face.  

“Never!” he declared, darting forward to grab your waist. Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around in the water.  

“Pedro!” you shrieked, laughing and trying to wriggle free.  

“You wanted a soldier,” he said, his voice full of mischief, “and now you’ve got one!”  

You finally stopped struggling, letting your arms drape around his shoulders as he held you close. The laughter faded into something softer, the two of you catching your breath as you stood chest-deep in the water.  

His hands slid down to your hips, steadying you as he gazed at you with a look that made your heart flutter. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.  

The way he said it, like it was a simple truth he’d always believed, made your cheeks warm despite the cool water. “You’re just saying that because I’m soaked and ridiculous-looking,” you replied, biting back a smile.  

“No,” he said, leaning in so his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”  

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant at first, like he was savoring the moment. The kiss deepened quickly, his arms pulling you closer until there was no space between you.  

When you pulled back for air, Pedro’s eyes were dark, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “You’ve got this effect on me,” he admitted, his voice husky.  

“Oh yeah?” you teased, though your voice wavered with the same breathless energy.  

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands sliding up your back. “And I never want it to go away.”  

For a while, the rest of the world melted away. You stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the ocean rocking gently around you. He kissed you like he was memorizing every detail, every taste, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, feeling completely and utterly adored.  

At one point, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “If this is what it feels like to surrender, I’m never fighting again.”  

You laughed, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I like you defeated.”  

“And I think I like you here, in my arms,” he replied softly, his lips brushing against your temple.  

The sound of your friends laughing and splashing in the distance barely registered. For now, it was just you and Pedro, lost in a world of sunlit kisses and salty skin, the ocean your only witness.  

The group gathered in a loose circle, each person holding a large green coconut decorated with colorful straws and tiny paper umbrellas. The warm, golden light of the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a soft glow, making the moment feel like a scene out of a postcard. Omar crouched to capture the perfect angle with his camera while Lauren struck a dramatic pose, tilting her head back and raising her coconut like it was a chalice of the gods.  

“Lauren, you’re doing the most,” Franklin said, shaking his head but smiling as he adjusted his sunglasses.  

“Darling, I am the most,” Lauren shot back with a wink, drawing laughs from everyone.  

Pedro, standing just behind you, pulled you snugly against his side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. “C’mon, let’s show them how it’s done,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.  

Franklin, standing in front with his phone, held it up. “Okay, lovebirds, your turn. Smile for the camera!”  

You turned your face toward Pedro’s at the exact same moment he turned toward you, and the laughter bubbled up before either of you could stop it. Your foreheads bumped lightly, and you both dissolved into giggles, the kind of uncontainable joy that made your chest feel light.  

“Oh, my god,” Lauren groaned theatrically, pointing at the two of you. “Are they even real? Look at them, they’re in their own damn rom-com!”  

“Y’all are embarrassing,” Omar chimed in, snapping pictures anyway. “But keep doing whatever that is because it’s disgustingly cute.”  

Pedro’s grin widened as he tilted his head toward you, his nose brushing against yours. “You’re ridiculous,” you said through your laughter, feeling your cheeks warm under the attention.  

“And you’re perfect,” Pedro replied, his voice low but playful, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk.  

Franklin groaned loudly, still holding up his phone. “For the love of all things holy, just kiss her already! We’re trying to make memories here, not watch a slow-burn romance unfold in real-time!”  

Pedro raised an eyebrow, glancing at the group before looking back at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What do you think, Hermosa? Should we give them what they want?”  

You laughed, pretending to ponder. “Hmm… maybe. But only if you make it a good one.”  

“Challenge accepted,” Pedro whispered, and then his lips were on yours, soft but sure. The kiss was sweet and unhurried, the kind that made everything around you fade into the background.  

“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it,” Lauren shrieked, clapping her hands together like a giddy child.  

“Finally!” Omar exclaimed, snapping several pictures in rapid succession. “This is going on the Christmas card.”  

“Make sure you get my good side!” Pedro joked, pulling back just enough to shoot Omar a wink, his arm still secure around your waist.  

“I don’t think you have a bad side,” you teased, your eyes meeting Pedro’s.  

“Ugh, stop!” Franklin groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. “This is too much. I need a drink—and not out of a coconut. I’m going straight for the tequila.”  

Everyone burst into laughter, the lighthearted teasing filling the air as the moment was immortalized with photos, laughter, and a shared sense of joy. Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple as the group continued to banter.  

“They’re just jealous,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with affection.  

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the warmth in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’m not sharing, so they can stay jealous.”  

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because neither am I.”  

The heat of the day softened into a golden, languid warmth as the two of you found refuge under the shade of a broad umbrella. The beach stretched endlessly before you, the waves lazily licking at the shore. Pedro reclined in a beach chair, his book propped open on his lap. The faint breeze tousled his hair, a few stray strands falling over his forehead, and the way he absentmindedly pushed them back sent a flutter through your chest.  

You leaned against his side, your legs stretched out on the chair beside him, the perfect picture of ease. With one hand, you held your favorite romance novel, its dog-eared pages evidence of how many times you'd read it. With the other, you traced patterns along the inked lines of his tattoos. Your fingertips moved slowly, savoring the ridges of muscle and warmth beneath his skin, as if committing every part of him to memory.  

Pedro’s free hand slid into yours, threading your fingers together with a natural intimacy that still made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t look up from his book as he murmured, “Everything feels right when you’re with me.”  

The sincerity in his tone made you pause, your eyes lifting from the words on the page. A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “I know the feeling,” you replied, your voice soft.  

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes when you’re entirely at ease with someone. The distant laughter of your friends mingled with the rhythmic crashing of waves, creating a serene soundtrack to your stolen moment.  

Pedro finally set his book down, slipping a receipt in as a placeholder. His gaze shifted to you, lingering in a way that made your cheeks heat even before he said a word.  

“You know,” he began, his voice warm and teasing, “you’re kind of amazing.”  

You tilted your head, meeting his eyes with a playful arch of your brow. “Kind of?”  

Pedro chuckled, his smile widening. “Okay, more than kind of. Very. Incredibly. Like, the kind of amazing that makes me wonder what I ever did to deserve you.”  

You closed your book, setting it on the small table between your chairs. Turning slightly, you rested your chin on his shoulder, your fingers still entwined with his. “Pedro, where’s all this coming from?”  

He shrugged, but his eyes were soft, almost vulnerable. “Just thinking. Watching you. It hits me sometimes how lucky I am. How lucky I feel to be the one sitting here with you.”  

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “You’re the one everyone loves. The kind, talented, ridiculously handsome Pedro Pascal. If anything, I’m the lucky one.”  

Pedro leaned closer, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re wrong about that. Don’t get me wrong—I like myself just fine,” he teased, earning a laugh from you. “But you? You’re everything. Smart, funny, compassionate. And don’t even get me started on how beautiful you are.”  

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to deflect with a teasing grin. “Oh, so it’s just my looks, huh?”  

“Not even close,” Pedro said, his voice dropping to a softer, deeper tone. “It’s the way you talk about your favorite books like they’re old friends. The way you laugh with your whole body. The way you care about everyone—how you make every room brighter just by being in it.”  

“Pedro…” you whispered, your throat tight with emotion.  

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger,” he added, his grin returning. “Omar can’t go ten minutes without asking if you need something, and Lauren keeps calling you her ‘new favorite person.’”  

You laughed, brushing at your cheeks as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”  

Pedro’s expression softened further, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if to catch a tear before it could fall. “If I do, they’d better be happy tears. Because, cariño, I love you more than I ever thought was possible.”  

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into his touch. “I love you too. So much.”  

For a moment, the world around you faded into the background. Pedro leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and tender, like a promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“Promise me you’ll always stay this close,” he said, his tone carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place.  

You smiled, your hands cupping his face. “I promise. Always.”  

Pedro’s heart swelled at your words, and though he didn’t say it out loud, a plan began to take shape in his mind. He pictured the perfect ring, the perfect moment, the perfect way to ask you to spend forever with him.  

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.  

You didn’t need to say anything else. The way you melted into his arms, the way your fingers found his once again, said everything. For now, this was enough. But in his heart, Pedro knew it wouldn’t be long before he made good on the promise his soul had already made: to love you, always.

The late afternoon sun bathed the beach in golden light as you wandered back into the water. The waves lapped gently at your legs, warm and inviting. Lost in the tranquil rhythm of the ocean, you didn’t notice the jagged rock just below the surface until it grazed your shin. You winced, feeling the sharp sting before brushing it off as nothing.  

You emerged from the water, the salty breeze brushing against your skin. Pedro, lounging nearby with a half-finished coconut drink, immediately sat up. His eyes darted to your leg, catching the small but noticeable trail of red trickling down your shin.  

“Are you bleeding?” His voice carried that signature mix of concern and urgency that only Pedro could make sound so endearing.  

You glanced down, surprised to see the cut. “Oh.”  

“Oh?” Pedro’s tone was incredulous as he practically leapt from his chair, already reaching for the towel draped over the back. “That’s all you have to say? Oh?”  

“It’s just a scratch, Pedro,” you said with a small laugh, trying to wave him off. “I’m fine.”  

But Pedro was having none of it. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands circling your calf to keep your leg still. The towel dabbed gently at the cut, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re not allowed to get hurt on my watch,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.  

“It’s barely a paper cut,” you teased, watching the way his features softened even as he fussed over you.  

“Doesn’t matter.” His voice was firm, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. “What if it gets infected? What if—”  

You laughed, cutting him off. “Pedro, it’s not like I got bitten by a shark.”  

He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “Don’t joke about that. I’d fight a shark for you, you know.”  

The sincerity in his voice, paired with the completely ridiculous statement, made you laugh even harder. “Oh, I’m sure you would,” you said, brushing your fingers through his damp curls.  

“Don’t test me,” he quipped, finally satisfied that the cut was clean. He reached for the small first-aid kit Franklin had insisted on bringing, pulling out a bandage. “Hold still.”  

“Seriously?” you asked, your amusement growing.  

“Seriously,” he said, shooting you a look that dared you to challenge him. He peeled the adhesive back and smoothed the bandage over your shin with a precision that would make a surgeon proud.  

“There,” he said, sitting back on his heels and surveying his work with a nod. “Good as new.”  

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling all the same.  

“And you’re reckless,” he shot back, standing up and pulling you into his arms. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens.”  

You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest. “I think you’re overreacting. It’s a scratch, Pedro.”  

“It’s your scratch,” he said, his voice softening. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours. “That means it matters to me.”  

Your heart did a little flip at his words, and you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “You know how you’re like—”  

“Absolutely embarrassingly in love with you?” he cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips.  

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, that.”  

Pedro leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I am, you know,” he said, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with you.”  

Your teasing melted away as you cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over the scruff of his jaw. “Good. Because I’m absolutely embarrassingly in love with you too.”  

His smile grew, and he kissed you softly, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, no more rock fights, okay? You’ve got to take it easy on me.”  

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll do my best. But no promises if a shark shows up.”  

Pedro groaned dramatically, lifting you off your feet as he carried you back to the lounge chairs. “If a shark shows up, I’ll negotiate with it. Tell it I’m already your protector and it can’t have the job.”  

You giggled, nuzzling against his neck. “Sounds like a good plan. My hero.”  

He set you down with exaggerated care, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “Always,” he said simply.  

And as the two of you sat there, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, you felt it again—that perfect, undeniable feeling of being home.

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — SUNSET

The sunset painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and deep indigo, casting a magical glow over the beach. The group sat in a loose circle, their laughter and conversation mingling with the soft crash of the waves and the mellow strumming of a guitar Omar had picked up. The mood was serene, the kind of calm that felt like it could stretch forever.  

Pedro sat behind you on the sand, his strong arms wrapped securely around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel the soft puff of his breath against your neck. His warmth enveloped you, a perfect contrast to the cool ocean breeze.  

“You cold, cariño?” Pedro murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.  

“Not even a little,” you replied, turning your head to catch his eyes. They sparkled, reflecting the fiery colors of the horizon.  

His fingers traced slow, idle circles against your stomach. “Good. Can’t have you shivering out here, not when I’ve got two perfectly good arms to keep you warm.”  

“You’re too good at this,” you teased, smiling as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.  

“Good at what?” he asked, his tone playful, though his eyes held that familiar, unspoken intensity that always made your heart skip a beat.  

“At making me feel like the luckiest person in the world,” you said softly.  

Pedro’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your temple. “That’s funny,” he murmured, “because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”  

The golden light of the sunset cast a halo around his face, and you couldn’t help but reach up, cupping his cheek as you brought his forehead to yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say things like that.”  

“You’d better not,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, though there was an edge of vulnerability beneath it. “Because I’m not planning on stopping.”  

“I’ll love you forever,” Pedro whispered, his lips ghosting against your ear as the first stars began to peek through the darkening sky.  

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze fully, the world around you falling away. “You promise?”  

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “I promise,” he said, his voice steady and filled with so much certainty it made your chest ache in the best way.  

His lips found yours in a kiss that was soft and lingering, filled with a sweetness that felt endless. When he pulled back, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before tucking you closer to him.  

The night deepened, and the group eventually wandered back to the cozy beachfront hotel. Pedro’s hand never left yours as you made your way to your shared room, the two of you moving in quiet, comfortable synchronicity.  

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the glow of a single bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate light over the space. The sound of the waves was faint through the open balcony doors, and the scent of salt air mingled with the faintly floral perfume you’d spritzed on earlier.  

Pedro closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his expression soft but unmistakably intent. “You know,” he said, stepping closer, “I meant it. Every word I said out there.”  

You tilted your head, giving him a playful look. “Even the part where you said you’d never get tired of me stealing the covers?”  

“Especially that part,” he said with a grin, his hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Though I might need extra cuddles as compensation.”  

You laughed softly, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “I think that can be arranged.”  

His grin faded, replaced by something deeper, more serious, as his eyes searched yours. “I love you,” he said, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything he felt. “So much that sometimes it scares me.”  

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you too. And you don’t have to be scared, Pedro. You’ve got me.”  

His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his hands splaying across your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss deepened, his lips parting to taste yours, and you felt the warmth of him everywhere.  

He backed you gently toward the bed, his movements unhurried, as if savoring every moment. The backs of your knees hit the edge, and you sank onto the soft mattress, pulling him down with you.  

Pedro’s hands roamed, his touch reverent as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down the column of your neck. “Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky.  

“You’re perfect,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to bring his lips back to yours.  

His breath hitched at your words, and you felt the weight of his love in every kiss, every touch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other, lost in a moment that felt infinite.  

Pedro pulled back briefly, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers laced with yours. “You’re my everything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your heart full to bursting.  

And as the night stretched on, the love between you grew even deeper, wrapping around you both like a warm, unbreakable cocoon.

[chasedbyatlantic]

anything, joel miller

masterlist summary: IN WHICH — joel miller decides to surprise the person he loves with a fun surprise out on a chilly winter day.

warnings: no outbreak!joel, older!joel, gender neutral!reader, no use of y/n, the littlest bit of self conscious reader (literally in one sentence in the beginning), brief mention of kidnapping (as a "what if you-" joke), one swear word, fear of heights, literally pure fluff!

wordcount: 2.2k

dividers created by @ v6que ! <3

a/n: wow hi guys long time no see haha!! life has been busy, real busy, but i'm trying my best to get more active. if there's anything you want to see me write for any character let me know! i'll write for anyone and anything :) remember to like, comment, reblog, and follow for more!! xoxo

—

The warm sensation that your cheeks felt every other moment was the first indicator your brain gave you to let you know you were now awake. You didn't want to believe it- it was still dark in the small room you were laying in, the sound of light snoring could still be heard beside you, and his arms and legs still tangled between yours. As you turned your head slightly to your right, the alarm clock read just a half past four. You quietly sighed, you knew you would have a hard time falling back asleep so there was no point. As you untangle yourself from his embrace, he shuffled around into a new (assumingly) comfortable position. What a peaceful sleeper, you thought to yourself.

You grabbed your undergarments that laid on the floor beside your space on the bed, quietly shuffling your way on over to the bathroom that connected to the room. As your eyes adjusted to the newfound bright light, you realized the state your hair was in.. oh god. Sometimes you wondered how he loved you when you looked like this when you woke up. The hairbrush that he got you as part of a Christmas gift worked wonders to get out all of the tangles, you were really blessed.

It didn't take long to get ready. One of Joel's flannels had sat loosely on your torso, your undergarments being the only thing on your bottom half. At least you were half presentable, you thought to yourself, it's not like he would complain, anyway. You, yet again, silently shuffled around until you were in your kitchen. It was only a mere fifteen steps and small staircase down from your comfortable bed.

You knew Joel would appreciate the warm drink on a chilly day. He had the same morning routine every day, something you've learned. Wake up, find you, make coffee, sit down. Every day. You weren't complaining, but you weren't a person of routine. Your mind continued to run as you filled up the coffee pot with tap water. About four cups should do, you thought to yourself.

It was like you were in a trance as you plugged the pot into the wall, you hadn't even heard him come down the creaky stairs. You only knew he was there as you felt his hands sneak around your waist and his head rest in the crook of your neck from behind. His hands were cold, you didn't appreciate that. "For me? Ya' shouldn't have." A small kiss was pecked onto your cheek, this could only earn a smile from you.

"Mornin', sleepy-head." You greeted your favourite person, the gruff of his beard scratching your skin in an almost soothing way. "You shouldn't be up, you got work'n a few hours." You gently scolded him. It was hard to consider it a scold, though- your voice was too soft. He stretched up and gave you another peck on your cheek, moving around the table. He did that sort of old man move, where he stretches and scratches his back at the same time. "I took the day off today."

"Tommy's gonna kill you." Was your immediate response as Joel leaned against the doorframe that so happened to conveniently be directly in front of where you were standing, just opposite of the room. He knew what he was doing. "He can hold it over for a day." He grumbled, arms crossed. What a sassy man, you thought to yourself. "Plus, I've been planning, er.. something, y'know, for'ya."

"Awh, Miller, you always know the way to bring a smile to my face." You weren't wrong, he did. He wasn't a man of PDA, far from it actually. So any time he planned something out of the house, you were ecstatic. He wasn't able to plan a lot during this time of the year, work for him was busy- trying to finish ongoing projects before the snow hit the surrounding areas again this year. Gotta love construction.

"Well, darlin”," He continued, a sly grin on his face, "Get ready. I wanna be outta'ere before the sun comes up." You nodded, but before a response could escape your lips, the coffee pot dinged. "What if I want to leave the house like this?" You questioned the man opposite to you as you reached for two tumblers. Your shirt had rose, a bit of your skin showing. As you had looked back over, you caught Joel staring below your head just for a second longer than he was supposed to. "Those're for my eyes only, sorry darlin'."

The only thing keeping you from entering a state of slumber was feeling the pulse of his heart through the palm of his hand that he had intertwined with yours. It was cold, so cold you were now able to see your breath escape your lungs as you exhaled. As your eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the bright daytime light, his voice rung out through the car, just barely over the country music that was playing from his external radio. "Didn't think ya' were one for naps."

You turned your head, your eyes meeting his briefly. "Keep those pretty eyes of yours on the road." You told Joel, this earned the smallest grin from the man beside you. "I'm not," You told him, turning your head back to try and see if your brain could register your surroundings, "I'm at peace to shut my eyes because I trust you aren't going to, I don't know- take me out to kidnap me here, in this secluded area." This had earned a laugh from Joel. "Nope," He said, "None of that behaviour from me." The squeeze from his hand to yours sent a warm feeling to your chest. You loved him, and he loved you.

A small yawn had escaped your lips, you moved your free hand to grab Joel's tumbler of coffee. You had finished yours earlier, and you needed another small boost- you were sure he wouldn't have minded, "Where are we headed, anyway?" As you picked the mug up and brought it to your lips, he suddenly swerved off the road. Your grip on his hand tightened as you practically jumped.

"Jesus!" Joel quickly looked over to you, you had a frantic look on your face. "Sorry, baby. I was gonna tell you, but didn't want to interrupt." He shot you an apologetic look before turning his head back to the road- well, off-road now. You couldn't be mad at him, really, he came with good intentions. "You're forgiven, I suppose." You playfully roll your eyes. "Seriously, though, where are we headed?"

Before Joel could reply to you, he comes to a gradual stop. You almost raise your brow as you look around at the even more secluded area you now find yourself in. Hm, it looks familiar, you think to yourself. As your eyes start to register the trees that surround Joel's pickup truck, you finally clue into what is happening.

Apple picking.

Well, picking is a relative term. Were you in a store picking out what plastic bag of apples you wanted? No. Were you in the middle of a forest about to pick some fruit from the very few selections of trees? Yes. I guess the only shopping you were going to do with Joel was shopping from Mother Nature's beautiful winter collection of fruit.

"Surprise." Joel had carefully reached over to give you a kiss on the cheek, not longer than a moment or two. You'd be lying if this said it didn't excite you a great deal. It was your first winter season in your newly bought home, your first winter season with your new family. Joel, without another moment wasted, got out of the truck and made his way over to your side. He opened your door and helped you out. God, what a gentleman.

"Pick anyone ya' like and we'll start there." Before you could reply, your lips connected with his in the heat of the moment. You couldn't resist, really.

After the man across you had lingered on your lips for just the right amount of time, he disconnected and made his way back over to his truck. He popped open the trunk, digging around for whatever he had went over for. His truck was full of work tools — ladders, wrenches, boxes, whatever else you needed as a contractor. You had turned back, eyeing to which tree you wanted to strip of its fruits first, when you had decided, Joel appeared beside you with two baskets, presumably one for each of you. "That one," You nodded over to the tree across from the two of you, coincidentally the one with the most fruit. Without arguing, you forcefully took one of the baskets out of Joel's hand and began to walk over to the tree you had just picked out. You didn't do it in a rude way, anything but that, you knew he could carry it himself- it was just a nice gesture. With a stride or two, he caught up to you and walked over in a mirrored step.

"Put the basket down, darlin'- I wanna show you somethin'." Joel said, putting his basket down and moving behind you. You couldn't help but raise your brow. What was this man up to? As you hesitantly placed your basket down, you felt his hands snake up your waist and grip just under your chest. In public? You didn't know he was into that.

Before you could compose yourself with the frisky thoughts, Joel had picked you up and put you on his shoulders. This earned a yelp coming from your mouth, gripping onto his hands with yours, that still lingered on your thighs. "Get me down!"

"Nothin'll happen to you while I'm here, ya'know that." God, if you didn't love this man, you would've gone crazy. You were sure he could feel your heart beat slowly start to slow down and return back to normal, but the hand overtop of his remained still. "Pass me the really high apples, I'll throw 'em down in the baskets here."

You looked down to him, and he looked up to you. The reassuring look on his face was contagious- you couldn't help but mirror it. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. You knew he wouldn't drop you, or anything in that matter- you just had a god fearing hatred for heights.

Your eyes scanned the branches just mere inches above your head, looking for the perfect red fruit. There it was, just an arm length away- the juiciest, most ripe, dark red apple hung from a thin, brown branch. Your arm reached out for the one you had desired, and you instinctively leaned forward. Bad idea.

It was so quick, you had lost your balance on Joel's shoulders. You shut your eyes and tensed up, but the grip Joel had on you tensed up as well. "You're good up there, I've got out." He comforted you. There it was again- your heart was racing a thousand miles a minute.

Your eyes opened and immediately searched for comfort in the brown ones below you. As both you and Joel locked eyes, a sense of calmness washed over you. He had said something but you didn't catch it, your eyes were back to being locked on that damn piece of fruit in front of you.

You tried again, this time determined to succeed. You reached out for the fruit and with a quick pluck it was in your hands. It was just the right size for your hand, as it fit perfectly in the palm of it.

"See, not too bad, right?"

Ding!

The oven went off, and the aroma of baked apples and cinnamon could be smelled from every square inch of your home. You slid on a pair of oven mittens and pulled the oven door open. You were hit with a warm wave of air as you removed the dish from its home for the last half hour.

"Smells good." The man across from you said as he entered the kitchen. It was really like a moth to a flame, and that thought made a small chuckle escape your lips. "Hopefully it's up to your standards."

Joel had gotten out a set of dishes and cutlery and set it out on the small dining room table that unironically took up over half of your kitchen. After the pie had cooled down, you cut a piece for both you and Joel. You sat down across from him, and he began to wolf down the relatively big piece that you had cut.

A smile appeared on your face, "It's good, isn't it?" He had looked up from the plate below him, finishing chewing and swallowing the rest of the slice of pie, "This is the best damn thing you've made." You couldn't help but let a chuckle escape your lips. "Anything to make the one I love happy."

Your hand was displayed on the table, and Joel was quick to interlink his fingers with yours, his eyes met with yours, he had a comforting yet appreciative look to him. "Anything?"

"Anything."

— anything, adrienne lenker

[4ever-feral]

What Monica said 😏😏

[bluemusickid]

Private Chef! Joel thots

ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!

Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI

Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:

Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.

You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.

Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.

You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.

You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.

And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.

You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.

You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.

"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.

You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".

You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.

"I'm technically on duty."

"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.

One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.

You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?

Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.

He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.

While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.

When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.

Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.

Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.

This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.

"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.

You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.

Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.

"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.

You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.

"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.

Joel smirked, catching his breath.

"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."

You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.

"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.

Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.

Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*

Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp

[cassiopeia-grimm]

He's so strong! He can go from this :

to that :

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors with Benefits: Part 5 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge @hellishjoel

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: About 5000

"Your, uh, your parents left a few minutes ago," Joel informed you as you finished drying off and getting dressed. "Two separate cars. You should be safe to sneak back over unnoticed." A smile formed on his face.

"Thanks." You scrunched your nose, "I feel like I’m on, like, James Bond or something... sneaking around."

He snickered again and tossed on a t-shirt over a pair of jeans. "Well... thanks for keeping me fuckin' company."

"Yeah." You nodded, feeling that sinking feeling again from the uncertainty of the whole situation. It was a weight that was already beginning to weigh on you. Now that you'd spent a night sleeping next to him the feeling was magnified.

"You okay?"

You forced a smile, trying to focus on the amazing aspects of the night together rather than the depressing what-ifs that plagued your mind. "Yeah. I'm good."

Joel looked you up for a second and then waved you down the hall. You followed him into the kitchen where he began rummaging through a drawer filled with miscellaneous coupons, writing utensils, and post-it notes. He ripped a yellow post-it from the top of a short stack of them and then scribbled seven digits with a black sharpie and handed it to you.

"I know this is kind of the old- fashioned way to give someone your phone number," he went on, handing it over, "But, shit, I'm old."

You felt the butterflies again - a surge of positive vibes that overtook your worries as you accepted his number. "You're not that old."

Joel smiled. "Send me a text or something so I have your number too.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t contain a wide grin.

“Just maybe… make sure your parents don’t see that someone named Joel is sending you messages.”

You nodded. “Got it.” You pointed over your shoulder toward the back door with your thumb. "I'll, um... I'll see you later."

He nodded and followed you to the door as you began to head that way. When you turned the knob and pulled it open, Joel pressed his hand against it and closed it again.

You turned, staring up at him and Joel opened his mouth to speak, though nothing came out.

"I, uh..." He cleared his throat and paused for another several seconds. "I get out of work around three."

You wanted to smile, and inside your heart was doing backflips; but you were too overwhelmed by the look on his face and his unwillingness to let you leave to show it.

"Okay," you said simply. When he didn't speak you continued. "My parents usually aren't out of work until about five, so..." you snickered, "I could probably easily get back over here.”

"You could always sleep over at your friend's house again." Joel tipped the corner of his mouth up in a smile, making you grin wider.

"They may send a search party." You took it upon yourself to bring your lips back to his, watching for a second as Joel's eyes closed firmly before closing yours.

He pulled you tightly against him, leaving the other hand against the door and kissed you harder before reluctantly letting you go. "I gotta go to work." Joel brought his lips back to yours once more, and you found yourself craving him again. When your hands tightened around the fabric of his shirt he cursed against your mouth. "Fuck."

"Do you think..." you breathed, "Do you think Holly would care if I slept over a second night?"

Joel finally managed a full grin, continuing to alternate between playfully making out with you and having a conversation. "I don't think she'll mind."

You kissed him again, playing into the raw aggression he attempted to control. You could see it in his strained jaw and closed eyes.

"I hadn't fucked in a while before I met you the other day." He reached down, adjusting himself and moved away to regain some control. Joel kept his eyes closed again and tried to think of anything else.

You knew you had been indulging in your own pleasures far too much and decided to take a moment to be fair to him. As bad as you wanted to cross back into his personal space and take control of the situation, you refrained, noting he was trying to contain himself.

"I'll call you," you told him.

Joel opened his eyes and looked you up and down before nodding. A smile finally crossed his face again and he laughed at himself. "I should have just taken a damn sick day."

You giggled and shrugged, this time opening the back door fully. "I'll go home before you change your mind."

He let out a deep breath and watched you for a moment. "Keep that bag packed."

"I will." You smiled at him and looked around the house once more before opening the screen door. "See ya later."

Joel swallowed hard and nodded, watching as you exited his home.

The feelings and the energy that had swept over Joel made him feel like a new man each time he saw you. He wasn't used to any of it - the attraction, the sex and, perhaps most importantly, the way you looked at him like he was the only man in the world. All of that had been just a speck in his marriage, even early on. Joel recognized how intense the connection was and it had begun to leave him fantasizing about you long after you’d parted.

He crossed the kitchen and glanced out a window, watching as you pulled open the back door to your home. You gave a final look in his direction before heading inside and Joel turned away from the window, bracing himself against the kitchen table.

What the fuck is wrong with me? He couldn't deny that there was a touch of ‘wrong’ in fucking his neighbor’s twenty-three year old daughter; but also acknowledged that he hadn’t felt this alive and wanted in years - maybe all of his life. Joel closed his eyes and drew a hand across his beard. For a moment he just stood there in the empty house, letting his thoughts wander in rapid-fire fashion.

"Shit." He said the word quietly to himself and glanced at the clock. With fifteen minutes to spare he decided to try to make the feeling go away temporarily and walked down the hallway toward the bathroom.

Steam still lingered on the mirror and when he saw his lone reflection he immediately missed having you there looking back at him in the mirror.

I need a cold shower.

With that, he stripped his closed back off and turned the shower on. He shivered as he stepped in, purposely leaving the water cold and closed his eyes, teeth chattering, as he stood directly under the icy flow of water. Joel wrapped his arms around himself and was able to focus on the uncomfortable sting from the shower rather than the one that burned inside of him. He stood there enduring it until the top of his head felt nearly numb. Joel turned the handle hard, creating a loud thump as it clicked back into place and the faucet turned off.

Again, he took a deep breath and still shivered there alone for a moment before ripping back the curtain so he came face to face with himself again in the mirror. Joel took in his shivering body, his desperate eyes and chattering teeth. In that moment he felt he looked more like a scared child than the strong man he viewed himself as.

He shook his head again. What the fuck am I letting this woman do to me?

The rest of the morning was long, and Joel had a difficult time focusing at work. The clock felt like it was stuck on the same number for hours on end and multiple times his co-workers had called him out on spacing out as they worked together to re-wire the electrical system in a building that was being restored.

"Joel, what in the hell do you keep looking at that damn phone for?" Tommy, Joel’s brother, approached him, prompting Joel to immediately shove the phone back into his jeans pocket. He took off his hard hat and wiped sweat from his forehead.

Joel searched his mind for a lie but he had nothing, "I’m just waiting to hear back from someone… about something."

"You ain’t dying, brother, are you?" He laughed and Joel managed a chuckle.

"Nah. It’s nothing." Joel's smile faded a bit and he placed the hand on his pocket where the phone sat.

"Seems like something to me," Tommy went on, "I've never seen you so glued to that thing."

Before he could answer, the boss on their job site called out to everyone from a megaphone. “Today’s meeting is mandatory. We’re going over the blueprints for a big job that’s starting August 1st. Unless I watch you throw up, you’ll be there.”

“He’s a ray of fuckin’ sunshine,” Tommy remarked.

"Meeting." Joel nodded to himself and removed his own hard hat, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Shit.”

"Yeah," Tommy said matter-of-factly, "You know, the shit the boss has been talking about for two weeks.”

"Yeah." He nodded, “I forgot about it.”

"Everything alright?" Tommy asked again, "Are you fuckin' hungover or something? You haven’t been overdoing it with the drinking since you and your wife split up, have you?”

"I'm fucking fine Tommy." Joel stopped abruptly and stared at his brother sternly. He thought he felt his phone go off and so he reached into the pocket of his pants again. When he found the screen viewing nothing but the time he almost cursed aloud and jammed the phone back into his pocket. When he glanced back up Tommy was staring at him. "Yeah, I know. I checked my fucking phone."

A few of the other guys glanced over and Tommy grabbed Joel by the arm, towing him to the side.

"I got you this job," Tommy scolded him, "It makes me look bad if you fuck up.”

"Stop giving me shit." He began to walk away but Tommy put a hand on his chest and Joel glared at him.

“Look, Joel. You’ve taken care of me my whole life and this is the one thing I helped you out with.”

“I’m having an off day,” Joel began but Tommy cut him off again.

“No, you haven’t been yourself in months since your lady left you.”

“You really want to go there right now?”

“I’m sorry.” He backed off. “I shouldn’t have said that, but… for me. Please. I like working with you and-”

“Fine.” Joel grumbled.

"Okay.” Tommy nodded and sensed Joel was itching to check his phone again. “But brother to brother, whatever the hell this is." He pointed toward his pocket and then directly at Joel, "Fix it.”

...

You finally decided you would text Joel when eleven o'clock rolled around. You didn't want to seem overly desperate by texting him too soon, nor did you want to interfere with the beginning of his day. Lunch time, you suspected, would be a good time to contact him.

You read the message in your mind as you typed, plopping down in the center of your bed as you did. Hey, it's me... I hope your day isn't going as hard as your morning. You squinted your eyes, not knowing if the message was too corny or forward. You hesitated a moment before finally hitting the send button. Talking dirty and using innuendos wasn't exactly your strong suit.

A loud sigh left your mouth and you rolled onto your back. Having the house to yourself and no work to do was something that very rarely happened - and something you would have typically welcomed. Now, it provided you with far too much time to daydream about Joel and all of the possibilities that went along with his abrupt, dramatic entrance into your life.

You glanced down at your phone, noting the minute hadn't rolled over yet. Still, you already felt self-conscious in the fact that he didn't immediately text your back.

It's been twenty seconds, you reminded herself.

The television played mindlessly across the room and You attempted to put your focus into a rerun of Law & Order with little success. Your eyes dropped to the phone again, this time at the exact second that the time switched from 11:00 to 11:01. It was almost like the device was taunting you; sticking out its tongue and willing you to believe that he, for some reason, ignored the message.

That was when the downward spiral of thoughts occurred in a perfect, timely fashion: Maybe he's annoyed at me for waiting so long. Maybe he's playing hard to get. Maybe he's in the middle of something important. Maybe a co-worker saw the message and now he has to explain it. Maybe he's losing interest. Maybe-

The phone sounded off providing the instant remedy to every worrisome question, and you snatched the phone up into your hands. A smile decorated your face as you read his reply. Warm relief spread into your body from his prompt response.

Jesus honey... I was starting to think my phone was broken.

Your thumbs pounded furiously at the screen as you typed out another message, smirking to yourself as you did. Didn't mean to keep you waiting!

You were completely smitten with the brewing affair and glanced out the window toward his house. You found herself counting down the minutes until three o'clock, or a little after, when you would see his truck roll back into the driveway. Your phone chimed again almost immediately this time and you glanced down to read it.

I forgot I had mandatory meeting until about 5:30 tonight... so I may be the one to keep you waiting... you have my mind clouded. I almost forgot about it.

You felt the simultaneous pull of emotions now that Joel wouldn't be home until later. Still, you felt satisfaction in the idea that you could distract him. It made the butterflies return to your stomach.

Sorry! :) Hope the meeting goes well... I have to find a way to sneak over now that my parents will be home... hmm...

The predicament was real. You weren’t sure how you would manage getting over to Joel's house without them realizing where you were going. You couldn't drive your car - they would see it in his driveway. You couldn't claim that someone was picking you up - they would see that no one was there to get you. Including Holly in the plan would let one more person in on the little secret you and Joel shared - even though you were absolutely dying to.

"Shit..." You thought about it, distracted momentarily by nothing but bad ideas that you knew wouldn't work. A part of you wished you had a key to his house so you could get over there early and greet him in your best bra and panties at the door.

Yeah, right. You knew you didn’t have the balls to do that, anyway.

When the phone sounded off again you felt instantly intrigued. I'll take care of it... don't even fuckin' sweat it.

You closed your eyes and envisioned Joel in his entirety - the feel of his trim beard against your face as you kissed; his breaths as they landed against your neck; the sounds he made at the height of his arousal in the midst of your embrace.

The collection of thoughts made you feel hot and cold; anxious and excited; and nervous but ready all at once. Joel had completely clouded your mind to the extent that you had no room for anything else.

I wonder what he has in mind.

After a long day and some on-and-off texting, Joel’s messages went cold around three o'clock, and you knew it was because of his meeting. However, when eight o'clock you felt anxiety creeping in. As crazy as it felt, you knew you couldn't be stuck in your bedroom staring at Joel's house all night.You had to see him.

The last message on your phone had come nearly a half an hour before. He informed you he was about to shower and of course that felt like a tease. It was enough for you to feel just a bit secure, though with each passing minute you wondered when he would jumpstart the evening.

Your attention was drawn for a moment to the television when a reporter came on about an incident somewhere across the country. A short video clip showed some type of creature in pursuit of two police officers defending civilians. When they all disappeared out of the range of the camera, the sound of gunshots sounded off before the news cut back to the reporter.

"We were informed earlier that the attacker was said to be high on the drug PCP, which would explain the loss of motor skills and aggressive behavior."

Your interest piqued for a moment and you tried to rewind the television to see what the thing looked like. It was dark and brief but you still couldn’t tell what exactly was happening. When your phone chimed your eyes urgently left the television and you smiled to see Joel's name on your phone screen. All he typed was: Ready?

You giggled and nodded as you typed, saying the word out loud, "Always."

A sigh left your mouth and you glanced in the mirror, fluffing out your hair a bit. You looked down at your attire - a pair of girlie boxer shorts from Victoria's Secret and sports bra.

Time to change, you thought with a grin.

The phone went off again and this time when you glanced down you continued to smile but now your curiosity piqued even more. you imagined Joel saying the words aloud that he typed: Go down into the living room. Make sure your parents are there. Text me when you get there.

All of it was so cryptic, and made the uncertainties all the more fun. It was like a big game of cat and mouse. You felt like a kid ready to go to your favorite amusement park, though you didn't know how you would get there - or which ride would be first.

Without another thought you flung open your door and rushed down the stairs, immediately catching the attention of your mom who was already there with the television on. Your father was fully reclined in what he referred to as his 'comfy chair' and was snoring away.

"Hey honey." Your mother greeted you with a smile.

"Hi." You smiled and fiddled with your phone nonchalantly, responding to Joel with a simple, I'm down here. What now?

"Holly?"

Your head snapped up and your face grew a shade darker. "Yeah," you lied.

"Your dad kind of conked out on me," your mother motioned to him in the chair, "We're supposed to be watching Survivor."

"That's still on?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course. It's one of the best shows on television."

"If you say so." You chuckled and looked down when your phone went off again.

Stay there.

"You kids and your phones."

"Hey, you're getting hooked now that you have a smartphone, too." You eyed your mother, who managed a chuckle and yawned. When a commercial came on she rose to her feet, prompting you to head in her direction. "Where are you going?"

"To the kitchen,” she said, staring at you as if you were crazy.

You glanced at your phone again and you bit down on your bottom lip. You weren't sure what Joel was up to but you wanted to obey his requests to stay put in the living room. "Well... why?"

Your mother laughed this time, "To get a bottle of water. Is that okay with you?"

"I'll get it," you offered.

"Are you hiding booze in there or something?"

You laughed, "Hiding? Mom, I'll be twenty-four in a few months. I'm going to be a big-time detective soon." You raised your eyebrows, "I don't need permission to have a drink anymore."

"You do in this house." Your father joked, seemingly springing to life. He grinned well before he opened his eyes as he teamed up with your mother in an effort to tease you.

“I'm not hiding “booze”. I was just coming down to say goodnight.” You crossed the room and kissed your mother on the cheek and then did the same to your father, who already looked like he was about to fall back asleep.

Your mother shrugged, "Well, alright." she glanced at her husband, "You must take after your father because I could stay up until midnight sometimes."

She laughed and you exchanged a hug, pleased that your phone had gone off again as you did. "Good night Mom."

"Good night." You exchanged a smile before glancing back at your phone for what felt like the fiftieth time.

All set honey. You can go back upstairs.

You didn't understand but you were already on your way to the second floor.

So... what's the plan? How will this work tonight?

You sighed, hurrying back to your room with all the intentions of changing into something you felt was more appropriate and much sexier than your typical bedtime attire. When you pushed the door open you screamed and immediately put your hand over your mouth, muffling a laugh just after.

Joel stood in between your open window and your bed. His face twisted into a smirk though he raised his eyebrows when he heard your mother shout up the stairs.

"What happened?" The television muted, "(Y/N)!”

Your mouth hung open and you quickly exited your room when you heard your mother's footsteps approaching the stairs. "I'm fine!" you shouted.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Why did you scream?" Your mother's footsteps were thudding up the stairs now and panic set in in your chest.

"Mom, I'm fine," you insisted, meeting her a step out of the partially open bedroom door. Your heart was thudding in your chest as your mother looked at you skeptically, waiting for your question to be answered. "I... there was a spider. It was... on my door handle and I touched it when I opened my door."

"Yikes. Where did it go?"

"I don't know."

You prayed your mother wouldn't try to enter your bedroom as your eyes began to scan the hardwood floors of the hallway.

"Mom, it's fine," you insisted, "I think I squished it when I opened the door.

"I hate knowing there's a spider in here."

"It was tiny," you insisted, strategically placing your body in between your mother and your room. The only way you could have kept your mother out would have been to push her away, and you didn't have the heart to do something like that. With a deep breath the two of you entered the room.

Joel was nowhere to be seen and your eyes frantically scanned the area while your mother's scanned the floor.

"Mom, I'm fine... really." You were panicking now as you had no idea where Joel had gone. "Please. It's dead. It was smaller than a dime." You took a deep breath, "They're going to vote someone off the island and you're going to miss it."

Finally, your mom let up a bit in her pursuit and stood with her hands on her hips as if she'd just completed some grand mission. "Well... kill it if you see it. You know I hate those things."

"I will." You were practically stiff-arming her out of the room, though you softened up your tone. "I love you, Mom. Thanks for spider hunting for me."

She smiled, "Good night honey."

You watched for a moment, making sure your mother had retreated back to the first floor before closing the door to your bedroom and locking it. For several seconds you stood in silence, glancing around and only able to hear the sound of your thudding heart. When Joel slowly crept up from the floor in between the bed and the wall where the window was, you put your hand on your chest and let out a deep breath.

"Well, I didn’t expect you to scream like that." Joel grinned wide, speaking quietly.

"How did you get in here?" You laughed, whispering the question to him. You were so infatuated by every little thing he did.

Joel nodded toward the window before kicking off his shoes and making himself at home in the center of your bed. "It's been awhile since I've scaled a house to sneak into a girl's bedroom."

"Is that a habit of yours?"

He chuckled, "Sounded a little fuckin' creepy now that I think of it. But, no... not since I was in high school."

You bit down on your bottom lip and crossed the room, leaning a knee on the bed next to him. "You scaled the house?"

Joel smiled wider, "Being a little bad feels pretty good, doesn't it?"

You responded by swinging one leg across his body and straddling him on the bed before bringing your lips down to meet his.

He kissed you for a few seconds before latching his fingers beneath the band of your shorts. "Do you sleep in these?"

A day ago you would have felt self-conscious, though now you could tell he was being flirtatious. "Sometimes..." you kissed him a little harder, "And sometimes nothing at all."

"Mmm..." Joel smiled as you kissed again.

"So... are we going to your place?"

He smiled, "How the hell are we going to do that, honey?"

You shrugged your shoulders.

Joel drew a hand up to your face and twirled a strand of hair in his fingers, unable to keep himself from grinning. "We're staying right here." He laughed, "What’d you think when your mom burst in here?”

"I felt like I was going to be sick."

"How do you feel now?" He reached for your hand and held it in his own, smirking when he saw you were shaking from all the nerves. "You're used to doing the right thing all the time, aren't you?"

"No, I-"

"I like that." Joel smiled wider and kissed you again. "But you are certainly pushing your limits with me." His hand snaked up your back and he began to urge you out of the sports bra you had on until you laid topless on top of him.

"It feels good to push the limits," you told him, closing your eyes as he began kissing your neck and cupping your breast with one of his hands.

"Only one way we're going to get caught messing around in here tonight," he whispered against your neck.

"What's that?" You arched your head back and moaned lightly.

Joel laughed and laid his head back down flat on the pillow. "If you can't be quiet."

"No promises," you teased, purposely pushing back so he could view your upper body in its entirety.

"Mmm..." he hummed. "Well, if I'm too much for you," Joel reached for a second pillow next to where he laid, "Just moan into this."

CLICK HERE FOR PART 6

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421

[andy-15-07]

Say Yes to Forever

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1697| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Warning: smut.

The restaurant hummed with quiet elegance, the dim candlelight flickering against the polished wood of the intimate booth Pedro had reserved. A soft jazz tune played in the background, mingling with the quiet murmur of other diners, but for Pedro, the world had shrunk down to the woman sitting across from him. Y/N. Seven years together, and still, looking at her made his heart stutter like it had the first time.

She was laughing softly at something he had said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The warmth of her gaze, the ease in the way she leaned toward him—it all felt like home. Pedro curled his fingers around his glass of wine, hiding the slight tremor in his hands. He had played warriors, kings, lovers, and villains, but nothing had ever made him as nervous as the tiny velvet box tucked inside his jacket pocket.

“You’re being weird,” Y/N said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at him with an amused smile. “You keep staring at me like I’m about to disappear.”

Pedro let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head as he considered her. “Can’t a man admire his beautiful girlfriend?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide the pleased flush creeping up her neck. “That’s not admiration, that’s—” She squinted at him playfully. “That’s plotting. What’s going on, Pascal?”

Damn, she knew him too well.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “Maybe I just want to soak in the moment. Seven years, cariño.” His voice softened. “Do you remember our first date?”

Y/N’s expression shifted into something more tender, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight. “Of course I do. You were late.”

Pedro groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Nope.” She grinned. “You were twenty minutes late, and I was convinced you had ghosted me.”

“I was filming, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased, lifting her wine glass to take a sip. “But then you showed up, all flustered and apologetic, and I decided to give you a chance.”

He smirked. “Lucky me.”

She reached across the table, lacing her fingers with his. “Yeah. Lucky us.”

Pedro felt his throat tighten. Seven years of stolen mornings, late-night conversations, endless laughter, and the kind of love that made him believe in forever. And tonight, he was going to ask her for exactly that.

His hand brushed against the ring box in his pocket, his pulse kicking up a notch.

It was time.

He took a steadying breath and smiled at her, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You know, I still can't believe you said yes to that second date."

Y/N chuckled, squeezing his hand. "You were persistent. And charming. And maybe a little bit of a mess."

"A little?" Pedro laughed, shaking his head. "I was a total mess. But you stuck around."

"Of course I did," she murmured, tilting her head. "You're my person, Pedro."

His heart swelled. "And you're mine."

The waiter approached with their dessert, a beautifully plated chocolate soufflé, but Pedro barely noticed. His focus was on her, on the love shining in her eyes. He inhaled deeply, shifting in his seat.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he started, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers slid into his pocket, closing around the velvet box. "Something really important."

Y/N arched a brow, setting her fork down. "Oh?"

Pedro exhaled a shaky breath and slowly pulled out the box, placing it between them on the table. The world seemed to still around them, everything fading except for the two of them and the moment that had been seven years in the making.

Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly. "Pedro..."

He pushed the box toward her, then slid off his seat and onto one knee, right there in the middle of the restaurant. A hush fell over the surrounding tables, but Pedro only saw her.

"Y/N," he began, his voice raw with emotion. "For seven years, you've been my best friend, my safe place, my greatest love. I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to imagine it."

Tears welled in her eyes, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping her lips.

He flipped open the box, revealing the delicate ring he'd spent months choosing, making sure it was perfect for her. "Marry me, cariño?"

For a moment, she was utterly still. Then, a radiant smile broke across her face, tears slipping down her cheeks. She let out a shaky laugh, nodding fervently. "Yes! Yes, Pedro, of course!"

The restaurant erupted in quiet applause, but Pedro barely heard it. He slid the ring onto her finger, hands trembling, before pulling her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss, warm and full of promise, sealing the moment forever.

As they pulled away, Y/N cupped his face, eyes shining. "I love you, Pedro."

He grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you more. Always."

The drive home was quiet, filled with lingering glances and intertwined fingers resting on Pedro’s lap. The streetlights painted golden streaks across Y/N’s skin, her engagement ring catching the glow every time she moved. He kept sneaking looks at her, grinning like a fool, his heart impossibly full.

As soon as they stepped into their home, Pedro reached for her, pulling her close. Music played softly from a speaker in the corner, something slow and familiar. He didn’t say a word, just took her hand and led her into the living room, swaying with her in the dim light.

Y/N rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “You’re really romantic when you want to be,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Only for you.”

They danced like that for a while, lost in each other. Every touch, every breath, every whispered ‘I love you’ was a promise of forever. And when he finally lifted her into his arms, carrying her upstairs, the night took on a different kind of tenderness.

In their bedroom, under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Pedro traced his fingers along her skin, memorizing every inch of her. There was no rush, only devotion in the way he touched her, kissed her, loved her. He unbuttoned her dress slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The fabric whispered to the floor, revealing her delicate lace bra. He paused, his breath catching in his throat, and gently unclasped it. Y/N reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers tracing the line of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his skin.

He pulled her close, their bodies flush against each other. His lips found hers in a slow, lingering kiss that deepened with every passing moment, a silent conversation of love and desire. He moved his hand down her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her closer still, their bodies molding together. She moaned softly against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He lifted her onto the bed, following her down, his gaze never breaking hers. He kissed her neck, his breath warm against her skin, then moved lower, his lips tracing a path down her chest, igniting a fire within her. She arched into him, meeting his gaze with a look of pure desire.

Pedro took his time, savoring every inch of her as if he were memorizing her all over again. His lips ghosted over her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts, before he took one hardened peak into his mouth, his tongue circling, teasing. She gasped, her back arching as his hands roamed lower, gripping her thighs, pulling them apart as he settled between them. His kisses grew more fervent, more insistent as he traced a path lower, his mouth exploring her in ways that made her whimper, her fingers digging into the sheets.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky. “I could stay here all night, making you fall apart over and over again.”

She moaned, her breath shaky. “Pedro… please.”

He smirked against her thigh, his fingers teasing her, making her hips lift instinctively. “Tell me what you want, querida.”

“I want you,” she gasped. “Inside me. Now.”

He moved back up, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. “You want me to fill you up?” he whispered against her mouth, his hands gripping her thighs, pressing her into the mattress. “You want me to fuck you so good you won’t be able to think straight?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her nails raking down his back. “I need you, Pedro.”

“You have me,” he growled, lining himself up with her. “Always.”

He entered her slowly, savoring the moment, their eyes locked, a silent exchange of love and longing. She gasped, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. He began to move, slowly at first, then faster, their bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as time, a dance of passion and surrender. Moans filled the room, mingling with the soft music playing in the background, a symphony of desire. He kissed her deeply, his hand stroking her hair, his touch both tender and demanding.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his pace quickening, pushing deeper, hitting all the right places. “So perfect for me.”

She cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders. “Harder, Pedro.”

His jaw clenched, his movements becoming rougher, more desperate, chasing both of their highs. “You’re mine, baby,” he gritted out. “All mine.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her body arching as pleasure overwhelmed her. “Yours.”

The sensations intensified, wave after wave washing over them, building to a crescendo, a moment of pure ecstasy, a shared release. He held her tightly as they both shattered, clinging to each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

When they finally lay tangled together, breathless and content, the silence was filled with unspoken words, with the weight of their love and commitment. Pedro kissed her bare shoulder, whispering, “Forever.”

Y/N smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Forever.”

[filmgifs]

Queer (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino

[dilfgifs]

BRETT GOLDSTEIN Ted Lasso 1.03 "Trent Crimm: The Independent"

[theetherealbloom]

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

[tangerine-hearts]

Carrot's portraits ✨ ONE PIECE ∙ EPISODE 821

[pedropascalmybeloved]

joel in episode 3 was so pretty its not even fair