#pedro pascal hot

[katykatyykaty]

These pictures are ten years apart

[n4chofuck3r]

I feel like this is everyone in the world rn

This is also not Steve Harrington or anyone, that's me

Gotta be real I keep maladaptive daydreaming about him and it's not good for me fr.

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || AU || Frankie Morales

Chapter 3: Guest Star

word count: 2770

warnings: abuse of weed, mom trauma, bridgerton… relationships

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

—-

On a day where Laylah had her afternoon classes, you decided to walk around the New York streets alone, going into different stores and exploring. It was good for you, being able to find yourself in little slivers in this terrifying city. Raleigh could never compare to Time Square itself.

The thought of being able to reinvent yourself gave you chills. Back at home that would’ve scared the shit out of you, but this idea now makes you want even more.

Headphones in and listening to House Song by Searows, you find this cute bakery called Matildas, a croissant sounded fucking spectacular. You walk and look around, inspecting the ambiance. All the artwork and lighting finds little crevices in your heart.

An older lady comes up to the register, “How can I help you today sweetie?”

“Could I have a butter croissant and an espresso?” You ask.

“6.95, sweetheart.” She says.

You hand her the money star eyed.

“Like what you see? We just fixed it last month, we’ve gotten so much more business with this aura, younger folks like you tend to be drawn here.” She smiles.

“Yeah this place, it’s spectacular, it's like outer space. I can’t quite describe it but it’s just safe. Away from the bustling city, a hole within a hole.” You study.

“Exactly right! No one’s ever said that before, but that’s just how I feel.”

You turn to her and grab your food. “My name’s Matilda.” She says. You tell her your name and shake hands.

You take a bite of the croissant and your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

“Well Matilda, this is about the best buttered croissant I’ve ever had, so thank you for making my day brighter.”

“Honey, would you like to work here? I say that because you have something about you, and my gut is always right.” She says.

You think about it, it's not far from your dorm, the pay wouldn’t matter. You could always get another job or sell fucking feet pics to survive here. Matilda seems to be a higher power sent to you.

“I would absolutely love to!”

------

“Laylah you wouldn’t believe it, like she just gave me the job and I gave her my number when I’m available and she immediately set everything up, I couldn't believe it!.”

Matilda said she would start you off with 20$ an hour, as shocked as you were, that money was definitely needed to stay at this school.

“Damn mama, look at you go, sugar me up sometime soon?” She asks.

“You fucking wish.” You laugh. “Wanna come on a run with me? I wanted to see if I could go all the way to the bridge and back, watch the sunset and possibly get dollar pizza.”

“Fuck yeah and we could smoke.”

“Tonight I’m good. I kinda want to go with a clear mind, smoking’s made me a little more anxious about everything. You can though, I seriously don’t mind” You reply.

“Oh baby, baby. Trust, I understand. We go with clear minds, I completely understand. No pressure, but when you do want to smoke, I’m always here too.”

This is what you loved about Laylah, she always respected what you wanted to do and vice versa. Smoking was something you loved, but you only did it on days that you could truly decompress without any worries. It was a reward for working so hard.

In high school you smoked so much, you were only sober for homework and when you fought with your mom. Smoking then saved you from reality. You’d go to class high, you go to work high, you’d take as many blinkers as you could before sleep. Just to numb the pain and sadness.

But your reality now was to be sober. It felt good. You were healing from that part of your life and you couldn't feel more refreshed.

A day you said no to weed, was the day the earth met the moon.

You both stay with each other and run to the bridge, listening to your music together watching the sunset, maybe this life wasn’t meant to be bad after all.

--------------------

You walk into your first morning class and you see Ms. Roylance with 2 people huddled at her desk.

You recognize that hair from anywhere. It’s fucking Timothee Chalamet.

Everyone walking in is awe struck, but you all were remotely instructed to not oggle him and take a seat until class was to start. You were instructed to compose yourselfs, but you didn't expect the person Ms. Roylance was to bring in Timothee Chalamet.

Guest teachers were to happen a lot with this kind of school, and it makes sense that he’s here since he went here just some years ago.

Then the other person was… fucking Mr Morales? Didn’t he have classes?

You saw Nina in the back prettying herself up and taking pictures of TImothee, you felt embarrassed for her.

This was not the time to fuck with your head, your stomach was in shambles.

“Class class, I know this is very exciting but today I have invited Mr Chalamet to sit in on some scene work, he was once a beloved student of mine and he asked himself to come in. We have Mr. Morales is here today because we are discussing the Macbeth set. As of now I will post the audition material, slots for you to sign up, and today will serve as your workshop.” Ms Roylance explains.

He was wearing a mouth watering cardigan. How could a man so scary look so damn good in any article of clothing.

What would he look like without any clothing?

Back to class, get yourself together.

“So today we have some scenes printed out, different monologues and you will perform for us and we’ll critique. Timothee, anything to add?”

He laughs, that usual Timothee nervous laugh, “ Hey everyone, don’t be stressed at all. Pretend I’m not here. Act like we’ve been friends for years, pretend you hate me, I’m serious. I’m proud of you all for putting in the work and putting yourselves out there. We’re all proud of you.” He points at himself, Ms. Roylance and Mr. Morales.

Uh Fish, yeah not so much.

They move to the back of the room and it's you and your classmates in the middle staring at the front, preparing yourself.

“Ok we have this love scene from a new netflix show that hasn’t been released yet, it’s a loving scene at the end of the season where the pair realizes they are in utter love with each other, but watch out this ones a tear jerker! We’ll run this one a couple times just to see different versions. Any hands?”

You and Nina immediately shoot your hands up, along with some of the men, Ms Roylance pairs Nina and this kid Josh to go first, she hands them the script to go over it. Then she pairs you with Mattias.

He seemed sweet, he was in a few of your other classes so you felt like you could go over this scene pretty well.

Ms Roylance hands you the sheets, and it’s pretty long. Nina and Josh will go first and then you and Mattias. Good, being first would screw you over.

You and Mattias read over the script, being a scene for King George and Queen Charlotte, you both were intrigued. You guys also fangirled with Timothee being there, but serious enough to fully understand what this scene was asking for you guys.

There was a kiss at the end, you both being comfortable with that. This was the reality of acting. He had to make himself look disheveled, but from there you were prepared.

It was time for Nina to go and they started. Feeling the piercing brown eyes back you look down not to think of anything in the room that is happening. Mattias grabs your hand in a friendly way to encourage you.

When Nina and Josh finished you didn’t even realize, you took the whole time calming your heart and focusing on the present.

“Now Mattias’s group!” Ms. Roylance says. The whole room was looking at you both.

You had to block Mr. Morales out more than Timothee.

You heard whispers from the back and that gave you your kick to look down and immediately whip up to Mattias. You are Queen Charlotte now.

George: Charlotte, you’re not listening to me

You falter in step and seriously look him in the eye.

Charlotte: I am. I have heard that you wish I had not come. That you want me to go. That you do not want to see me. I have been suffering and alone and believing I am a failure as a wife and as your queen because you stay from me as though I am a disease. And then today, it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps there is another reason. A better reason. Perhaps you stay away from me because you care for me. Perhaps you stay away from me because you love me.

You slow your speaking pace, putting tension within your words to get Mattias’s attention. Love is serious, it ferociously hurts people, he looks sick in his heart.

George: I’m trying to protect you. I.. I cannot. We cannot… This conversation is.. I can’t do this. I never wanted to marry.

Mattias puts his hands to his chest. And stands up walking away from you, you’re searching for his eyes. Eye contact is what will kill your heart.

Charlotte: Do you love me?

George: Please, stop!

But you can’t stop, you must continue.

Charlotte: Is it because you do not believe that I could love you? I do. I love you, George. I love you so much that I will do as you wish. If you do not love me, say you do not love me and I will go. I will go back to Buckingham House. And we can live our separate lives, and I will have this baby alone, and I will make do and fill my days and survive. All on my own. I will do that. But first, you have to say that you do not love me. You have to tell me that I am utterly alone in this world.

You’re a mother, a wife, a lover, but most of all in this situation, you become home and a protector, a healer for a man that has never been taken care of. You start to tear up, as does Mattias. The emotions and words of Charlotte getting the best of you.

He stands up and gets closer to you.

Goerge: I am a madman. I am a danger. In my mind, there are different worlds creeping in. The heavens and Earth collide. I do not know where I am.

You prepare yourself for everything. You come back to reality and forget that the person you crave is watching you act? Was this how you felt about him?

Charlotte: Do you love me?

George: You do not wish a life with me for yourself. No one wishes that.

Mattias has outdone himself with this, he has made himself look helpless and broken, he looks like he is not accepting what he truly needs.

Charlotte: George!

You yell it out loud, the buzzing in the room stops, it's deafening.

Charlotte: I will stand with you between the heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are. Do you love me?

You feel tears trickling down.

George: I love you! From the mo.. From the moment I saw you trying to go over the wall.. I have loved you desperately. Face crumbling into emotion.

He gets closer to you, making the air feel unbreathable in the room. You’re standing there searching for the soul in Mattias’s eyes.

George: I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, Charlotte. My heart calls your name.

And finally Mattias kisses you. It was a good kiss, but there was so much tension, you relaxed in his hold and felt your character.

“And scene.” You say.

The whole room cheers. You’ve never felt more accomplished with your life, more than Cabaret. You search for Mr. Morales and you can’t believe he’s even cheering for you.

You immediately clear your tears up and congratulate Mattias, almost cheering that Nina looks pissed off.

The class comes to an end and as you grab your things to leave, Ms Roylance calls you over.

“Hey, that was amazing work today with Mattias, Timothee wanted to ask you about it.”

Mr. Morales was so close to you, you got goosebumps. You could imagine his arms wrapping around you, holding you so closely your hearts could feel each other.

But he never felt so far from you. He didn’t smile when you got back to them, he frowned and his eyes stayed the same, nothing furrowed in his look- he just manages to observe you. This cycle drives you crazy.

You immediately feel tired, giving all your work into that scene but you have to give Timothee your full attention.

“Mr Morales and I have to leave but you guys are free to stay here and chat.”

“Frankie it was nice seeing you man, we have to go see that show this weekend.” Timothee calls to Mr. Morales.

Frankie Morales rolls off the tongue so well.

“Kid you have to come here more there's so much to see, the boys and I want you over for drinks, just text me.” He responds.

“I’ll bet you on that old man!”

They walk out and you smile at the world star celebrity, “So Timothee Hal Chalamet, what would you like to ask?”

“Not the middle name!” He groans. “That’s just foul,”

“Not as foul as seeing your favorite actor in your AM class when you just woke up!”

“Touche.” He says back.

“I’ve seen all your movies, you’re honestly kinda why I’m even here in the first place, seeing you act made me believe I could too. The way you make people feel through the screen is what I want to do.” You mumble.

“That’s my honor.” He smiles. He gets to the point.“So what made you cry?”

You think about it for a second, was it in the moment or because you forced yourself, or because you were about to shit your pants?

“What made me cry was realizing how much Charlotte loves George no matter what, that unconditional love is so rare these days that reading the text made my brain scream. Many people will cheat on you or leave you for little things, and personally I couldn’t deal with that. Me myself, I’m pretty fucked up and if someone told me they would stand with me no matter where I was in life, I would probably raise hell and cry a lot.”

“Because you’ve never felt that before?” He asks.

“Yes because I’ve never felt that.” You look into his eyes, “Feeling for George and Charlotte in this scene ultimately made me fully consume the characters.” You finish.

“Wow, that breakdown is what a true actor does. Well done. Frankie hyped you up so much that I had to come see you.”

“What?” You ask.

“He didn’t tell you? He called me today since I was free and in the city, and he was talking about this brilliant new girl that has ‘taken the department by its feet’. I’ve in my 25 years of life heard a man talk that long about someone.” He goes on.

Frankie, Mr. Morales, was thinking about you? And to Timothee Chalamet?

“Wait, you do know that he talks about you, right?”

“Timothee, we’ve barely spoken 10 words to each other.” You respond.

“Oh shit shit, maybe I fucked up, um don’t tell him I said anything to save both our asses. But yeah he kinda just went on and on and I knew that he had some spectacular. When you were in the scene he was telling me about how serious you are with acting so I’m happy I got to see it.”

How does he know how serious you are?

“I have to run, but this was not time wasted, if you need help with anything as Frankie, or shit Mr. Morales and he can give me a holler. I need to see you in this industry soon.”

“Thank you, seriously Timothee, this means the world.” You praise him.

He leaves and you’re left in your acting class alone, with every worry in the world.

—-

previous || next

authors note- you guys don’t understand how bad I want to jump into their relationship but… you know. this is kinda a filler, but trust i want to develop this backstory really good. and of course i had to make their scene work in class be the george and charlotte scene…. that made me cry my brain out🙈🙈 don’t even @ me for putting timothée. i kinda just wrote this for myself but it’s okay don’t worry. the smut is brewing!

[katykatyykaty]

This… M A N

[loganhowlctt]

He’s a very cooperative and fulfilling scene partner, acting partner, you know. It’s pretty crazy.

—  requested by anonymous

[softiepedrito]

These looks... *chef's kiss*

[4ever-feral]

Just one chance Pedro that’s all I need 😩😭

[alphaaao]

👀

Pedro 👀

[katykatyykaty]

The white tee 🥵

[luvvyouforever]

i am a die hard game version joel miller lover

[missyorkswhore]

I want that arm

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || A.U

Frankie Morales

Chapter 7: Call

word count: 2823

warnings: smut, mentions of p and v sex, mentions of squirting, mentions of abuse, emotionally abusive mom, mentions of calorie counting, mentions of disowning, horrible daughter mother relationship, mentions of abusive dad, let me know if i’ve missed any

rating: mature, 18+

Laylah uses they/them pronouns btw!

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

———

Frankie POV-

She’s my girl. He thought.

Frankie was stretched out on his king sized bed, in his lonely brownstone. All the possibilities that were in the back of his head came true. He finally got to kiss you. His body was on fire with you in that bathroom. He brought his fingers to his swollen lips, remembering the crevices of your lips, reminiscing on your smell.

After the bathroom together, you both walked out of the crowd lingering in the back where no one could know who you two were. It was magical. The sensual club made you both feel alive, your bodies moving together, in rhythm never failing to fall apart. Kissing so much- the language your lips spoke was fluid love.

Is this love, what the fuck is this?

Frankie rethought the whole night to himself. He vowed he would never say the love word, ever fucking again.

This is a quick, short lived thing. Just fun. Love is complicated.

His last girlfriend left him with no notice, he came home one day and she was completely gone. Blocked on every social media, a note saying “you were too easy.”

That took Frankie years to recover from, he had given his all into his relationship with his ex, he started himself over again. To finally be left in the end and having to start from square one.

But he eventually learned that quick fucks here and there would do the trick, he didn’t need the emotional attachment, and his job kept him busy most of the time.

But he felt different about you. You gave him that jumpstart to his heart. Something he hasn’t felt since childhood. He’d been alone his entire life, he didn't know what love is, but when your eyes connect it feels like the walls of his heart are repairing themselves.

The more he thought about your body, the way you felt on his fingers, the walls of your pussy enclosing every time he spoke appraisal towards you.

He snaked his hand to move his pants down to his thighs, along with boxers. Finally letting his cock free from entrapment.

He hissed when the cold draft of his room met the skin of his dick, still so raw from being hard with you.

He picures you by his side, propping yourself on his thighs, rubbing your pussy lips back and forth on the head of his cock. Your pussy so perfect, always so ready for him. He loved that you weren’t fully shaved. It made him feel like he was with a real women and made him want to fuck you more. He hated how women were so ashamed of body hair, it’s natural and nothing to hide. He loved that you opened up to him after being so shy, he embellished in the feeling of you being so comfortable around him. Eating your pussy out was a next level of heaven for Frankie, your hairs brisking against his jaw. Making everything ten times more erotic. He dreamt of your first time together.

“Fuck baby you’re so slick for me. Every damn time, this pussy could quench the whole Sahara desert. Does my cock make this much of a mess from this plump pussy?”

“Frankie, fucking slip it in already I won’t say it twice. Please I’ll be such a good girl. I promise.”

“I guess a good girl knows what she wants? You think you’ve earned my cock?” He asks, and immediately slips in his throbbing cock inside your cunt. He could imagine the feeling of your warm pussy eveloping his dick immediately, accepting its invitation.

He couldn’t last for much longer, the thought of you bouncing on his cock, squirming every time he thrusted into you, you screaming bloody murder, that's how good he would make you feel.

And finally, the thought of you squirting all over his cock and soaking his bush immediately made white spurts of cum shoot out and cover his hand.

“Fuck, fuck fuck baby. Shittttt.” He had to catch his breath, he was so delirious on the thought of you, his orgasm fully took the life out of him.

He felt sexed out, but he needed you, not just for sex. Not how biologically men usually need women. Men only see women as objects and sex toys, and the times he fucked around, he felt bad. He felt like he was a part of the problem, but he would do anything to be better for you. He needs you to breathe, you light his soul on fire. He can see the passion in your eyes, and he knows he will do anything to earn it.

-----

You got home and immediately fell asleep, the sleep crash you got after being high taxed your body. Waking up foggy but still remembering every moment with him.

Your body felt so relaxed after being with Frankie. You never had a man touch you like that before, and you couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed himself. The whole night you thought your eyes were mistaking themselves.

But no matter what, he always made your heart jump a beat when he spoke. And you get to see him again today.

You notice that Laylah is already gone and note on your night stand saying

“Sleep in, I have coffee waiting for you at rehearsal. Last night was interesting. xo.”

Shit. A lead being late for the first rehearsal would not be okay.

You pack your shit together, along with some snacks to tie you over for the day, you look messy and dead in the mirror.

Perfect

“It’ll be okay.” You look in the mirror. You walk out the door and speed to the arts center. Seeing Frankie is your main motivation for the day.

-----

You walk through the school building and find the entrance to the theater, opening the door to find the whole company sitting at tables. Double-shit. On time apparently, is late.

Everyone looks towards you, murmurs abrupt into a never abyss. You’ll never understand this damned school. You find Laylah sitting in the far corner, and as you advance towards her you can hear someone walking behind you. Frankie.

He just walked down from the booth, perfect timing as fucking always.

His presence behind you made your body jolt, your insides churn with desire.

You can’t read his expression, his eyes and mouth are always downturned. You can’t tell if he’s happy or not, he stops abruptly next to you, “Your neck looks colorful, huh?” He whispers, looking in his peripheral.

Shit, you didn’t even bother to wear anything to cover your chest or neck, Frankies hickeys littered your entire upper half but no one knew that. And he just walks past you, taking a seat next to all the directors.

You closely follow taking a seat next to Laylah, you see Nina in the back taking coffee and food orders. Of course she’s sucking up, she’d do anything to assist or be a little pet. Her dad could get her anything at this school.

“All okay?” Laylah asks in a whisper, “You look a little, well, just a little tired and a little bruised.” She laughs.

“Yeah, I'm tired .” The last thing you need is for them to find out you had sex with Frankie. “Can’t believe she’s here.”

“Yeah don't pay attention to her, she’ll see we have coffee and she won’t even come up to us. Here, let me just wipe off your mascara.” She licks her thumb and cleans your eyes.

This is what you revelish in, the simplicity and purity of two humans taking each other. Laylah always took care of you.

“Okay people, first rehearsal.” Ms Roylance begins, “We have Mr. Morales here for his tech team, Mr. Garcia, and Mr. Davis for help. Today may be a long day, so plan accordingly and we’ll break at 4 for an early dinner.”

Nothing you’re not used to.

“I’ll first talk with the lighting team, then props and set design, costumes, makeup, and videography. Check your emails, I already sent out the itinerary for today.” Frankie stands up, walking around the group. You have the perfect sight of him, but you don’t dare trying to meet his eyes. The closest you challenge yourself is the zipper on his jacket. He doesn't deserve anything more.

“First actors, we’ll start with working on intimacy for Lady Mac and Mac. I’m sure this won’t be an issue for you two.” She catches your eyes.

You nod toward Mattias and smile, remembering your in class scene with him, and how easy it came to you both. This pairing made sense.

“And from there we’ll work with some King Duncan scenes. I’d expect us to get out a little after our dinner break but no later than 7! Costuming and make-up I expect you all to go heavy today.”

Groans were heard from the room.

“Hey!” Frankie shouts. “You all signed up for this, we don’t choose the hours, this is what it takes to put a show on broadway in a couple months. We know you all have classes here, we know you have jobs. If you give us respect, we’ll give you respect.”

The more he talked, the more you were turned on. He’s so stern with his words. His tough love made you want him more.

“That being said, it's hard start in 5 minutes.” Roylance closes off.

-------

“Ok Matias, I want you to just hold her cheek a little closer, just to make the audience want more from you two.”

You’ve been working on this scene for a few hours now. Correcting and implementing notes.

“Is it okay if I move a little downstairs to get to him before this?” You ask Roylance.

“Sure, do what you like, note that ASM’s.”

The stage managers and carpentry crew were working all around the actors and the theater was bustling with urban life. You felt immersed in this world.

Matias is so close to you, you both are sharing the same air to breathe.

“Is this okay?” He asks, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah you’re fine, and during the show I don’t care how you touch me, whatever makes it look the most real.”

“Testing, testing 1,2.” Frankie calls over the god mike.

You look up to him and he’s glaring at you. Hand over his chin and licking his lips.

Jealous?

Matias is still holding you, so you get closer to him going along with your characters dialogue and notes from Ms. Roylance. Hoping that Frankie is watching your every move, what was he gonna do?

You rub circles on Matias’s shoulder and double take to Frankie, he’s standing now. Hunched over in the booth and you chuckle.

Your phone starts to buzz in your pocket, you search for it, the lit up screen…

“Mom?” Why the hell would she be calling you?

“Um Ms. Roylance, I’m so sorry for this, may I excuse myself, I have to take this phone call I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Oh no it’s okay we should break for dinner anyways.” She puts her hands around her mouth, “Company, hour dinner break be back at 5 sharp.”

You run off into a secret hallway in the back of the auditorium, “Hello?”

“Is this my daughter?” She seethes through the receiver.

“Yeah, this is her.” You scoff.

“Why the fuck did you not tell me you were leaving UNCSA to go to NYU, you know that 10x the amount, how the hell are you going to pay for that?”

“Well Alyssa, after I left for college I believe we served ties and you didn’t seem to give a shit that I left. You didn’t pay for UNCSA, I did so I always find a way to pay for college.”

“No sweetie, you wanted to leave like a little brat and you didn’t want to follow my rules. You wanted to eat whatever you wanted, you wanted to stay out all hours of the night, you wanted to engage in illegal activities, you wanted to whore around and I bet that’s how you pay for college. You chose to leave.”

You couldn’t believe that 3 years later she still fucking cares how you go on about your life. “ I understand that I turned 18 and I tried things that you weren't a fan of. And as a teenager I was disrespectful, but listen here, you will never ever get to terrorize me again. You sheltered me my entire life, you were the one that gave me an eating disorder, you bullied me from a young age. You couldn't control your own life, so you controlled mine. Dad left you because of that. You are your own fucking fault. No amount of your manipulation will make me feel bad for you.

“You’re a disrespectful little shit that doesn't know her manners, I’m glad I disowned you. You aren’t my daughter. The day you stopped counting your calories was when I stopped loving you. You aren’t going to make it in the acting world-

“Well fucking watch me bitch.” You yell through the phone and hang up.

Tears are streaming down your face and you pray no one could hear you. Your mothers voice could be practically heard around the world when she would yell at you. Your screaming matches growing up got the cops called once or twice.

What was her purpose of calling you? Just because you left the state doesn’t mean anything to her. She called once or twice when you were in Winston- Salem, just to see if you had booked anything or to see how your grades were, but she knew you would never come home again. There was no reason to. Your dad was abusive growing up, and when he finally left you were left with your emotionally abusive mother, there was no want to go back to a dead childhood.

There were days you missed your mom, the days where you felt like a little girl and not a full grown adult at the age 10, but that was rare.

You stand up and step out the hallway, the theater is empty, you grab your things and decide to head to the booth. It would be an easier place to annotate your script in peace and cry. No matter how much you didn’t care about your mom, she always could find this crevice in your body that would make you cry for hours uncontrollably. You had an hour of peace.

You walk up into the booth, “Shit stick, what's wrong? I tried looking for you.” Laylah was sitting in a chair in front of the lighting board and this techie guy was sitting next to her.

“Oh hi um, sorry I don’t mean to intrude, you probably don’t want to hear this.” You say toward the man.

“Oh no problem, I have no one to tell, you can say anything I don’t mind.” He utters.

“Yeah babe, don’t mind him. Seriously you can talk, it's safe here. I saw Nina walk out 10 minutes ago, what's on your mind?”

You wish you could talk about Frankie, but that's far from voicing to anyone, even your best friend and her random man friend. So your mom it is.

“My mom called.”

“Shit, what’d she have to say?”

You start to break, “Well she was aksing about UNCSA, and NYU and then she went into just her manipulative shit as always and-” Snot drips down your face, “Fuck” You wipe, “She just has this way of always reminding me of how I was such a shitty daughter and she will never let down my childhood, I’m sick and fucking tired of her.”

“Hug?” Laylah asks with her arms out.

You embrace her and stay there for a while. “Can I hug too?” The man asks.

“Bring it in” You voice with a smile.

“This is Bryce, by the way. We have a class together and he does lighting for the show. We got your coffee together this morning.” Laylah reveals.

“Well hello special man,” You give your hand to shake his,”Ever so pleased to meet you.”

“And you.” He laughs.

“Well thank you for this, I can sit in the corner, I was gonna just annotate my script and put in my headphones so you guys can get back to business.” You wink.

“We're about to leave to get Boba, but you have your fun with your script date!”

“I’ll tell you all about it tonight.” You yell after them.

If Laylah dates Bryce, you’d be happy. He looks like a good fellow? Fuck what were guys your age that are nice supposed to look like? He looked fine, you’re glad Laylah is exploring.

You get your pens and markers out and dive into the world of Macbeth, expecting the next 50 minutes to be a world of disaster.

——

previous || next

authors note: this is kinda a filler and shorter.. and i haven’t read through it for mistakes…..BUT i’m out of school and i have so much time to write, and i have many chapters planned 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

[fyeaheddiemunson]

2 things we can all agree that we need:

1. These 3 in a puppy interview together

2. Joe on Hot Ones

[perotovar]

"Thinking back, early on in your career when you'd do guest spots on shows like NYPD Blue, Law & Order, CSI; was there a role that stands out in your memory because it was an unusually complicated character or unusually fun to play?"

PEDRO PASCAL on HOT ONES (2023) | x

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Santa Baby

pairing: pedro pascal x f! popstar girlfriend

The stage was bathed in warm, festive light as snowflakes made of glitter descended from the rafters. The audience buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the star of the night. Y/N’s highly anticipated Christmas special was live, showcasing her new holiday album. Fans worldwide tuned in to witness her performance, and among them was her proudest supporter her boyfriend-turned-fiancé, Pedro Pascal, seated in the front row.

Y/N’s voice soared through classic carols and original songs, each note wrapping the room in holiday magic. Dressed in a red velvet gown that shimmered under the lights, she was the picture of festive elegance. Her diamond necklace sparkled with every turn, but her smile was the true showstopper. Pedro leaned forward in his seat, utterly entranced, his warm brown eyes never leaving her.

Then came the moment that would be talked about for weeks. The band struck up the jazzy, slinky notes of Santa Baby, and the audience erupted into cheers. The curtains parted to reveal Y/N in a dazzling new outfit: a fitted red velvet bodice trimmed with soft white fur, paired with thigh-high boots and a sparkling Santa hat. She strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, her playful grin promising something extraordinary.

Pedro chuckled as she made eye contact with him, her flirty energy aimed directly his way. He shook his head, already knowing she was about to steal the show.

Her sultry voice filled the air:

Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me…

The crowd swayed along, their energy building with every lyric. Y/N’s performance was captivating, her charm impossible to resist. Pedro’s grin grew wider as she playfully gestured toward him during the bridge:

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

The audience roared with laughter and applause at her antics. Pedro, his face beaming with pride, clapped along, his eyes shining with admiration. But then, the atmosphere shifted as she reached the iconic line:

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing a ring…

Y/N paused dramatically, her voice trailing off as she raised her left hand. The spotlight caught it, making the enormous diamond engagement ring glitter like the North Star. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Pedro froze, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes glassy with emotion.

The cameras panned to him, capturing his reaction as he stood, clapping and laughing, his expression one of pure love and pride. Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, finishing the line with a twist:

…and I don’t mean on the phone!

The theater exploded with applause. Y/N gave a playful twirl, blowing Pedro a kiss and mouthing, I love you. He returned it with a blown kiss of his own, shaking his head as if to say, You’re unbelievable.

By the time Y/N finished her set, the news had already gone viral. Social media lit up with clips of the performance, fans gushing over her flawless vocals and Pedro’s swooning reaction. Headlines blared:

“Pop Star Y/N Drops Engagement Bombshell During Christmas Special!”

“Pedro Pascal and Y/N Are Officially Engaged And It’s the Holiday Surprise We Didn’t Know We Needed!”

The next morning, Pedro sat on the couch, scrolling through endless memes of his smitten expression. Y/N curled up beside him under a cozy blanket, her engagement ring catching the morning light.

“You really couldn’t wait to tell the world, huh?” he teased, showing her a tweet comparing him to a love-struck Hallmark movie character.

“What can I say?” she replied with a smirk. “I like making a statement.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good. I want everyone to know I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Her smile softened as she laced her fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Pedro.”

“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Pascal.”

That evening, as the snow continued to drift softly outside, they decided to celebrate their engagement with a romantic soak in the outdoor hot tub. The steam swirled into the crisp winter air, and the glow of the nearby fire pit illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows over the snow-covered patio.

Y/N stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a plush robe, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Pedro was already in the tub, leaning back against the edge with his arms sprawled out, the muscles of his chest glistening from the rising steam. His dark eyes fixed on her with a heat that rivaled the bubbling water.

“Come on in, future Mrs. Pascal,” he teased, his voice low and inviting.

Y/N smirked, dropping the robe to reveal her figure in a deep red bikini that matched the festive mood of the weekend. Pedro’s breath hitched, his gaze dragging over her like she was the only thing in the world.

“You’re staring,” she said playfully as she descended into the water, the warmth enveloping her instantly.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice rough as he pulled her closer the moment she settled in. “Look at you. You’re stunning.”

She slid onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and wrapped her arms around his neck. The contrast of the hot water and the cool winter air made her shiver slightly, but Pedro’s hands on her hips quickly warmed her up.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Pascal,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jawline.

Pedro chuckled, but it quickly turned into a groan when her lips brushed against his. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the tension between them simmered into something hotter than the water surrounding them. His hands roamed her back, sliding lower as he held her firmly against him.

“You know,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire, “you completely ruined me last night with that performance.”

“Good,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked at him. “I wanted to drive you crazy.”

“Mission accomplished,” he said, his grip tightening as he kissed her again, his lips moving down to her neck, trailing over her collarbone.

“Pedro,” she breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a tease.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes blazing. “Say it again,” he murmured.

“Pedro,” she repeated, her hands framing his face as her lips brushed against his in the faintest of kisses.

“No,” he whispered, his smirk returning as his hands dipped into the water, pulling her closer. “The other thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear all day.”

She smiled, her heart thundering in her chest. “I love you, future husband.

Pedro’s laughter rumbled through the air before he captured her lips again, the kiss slow, sensual, and filled with the kind of love that made the world stand still. And as snowflakes melted on their heated skin, they knew this was the start of a holiday season they’d never forget.

[visionsofcarnality]

Dirty Old Man ! Joel Headcanons NSFW!!

Part two!

Dirty Old Man Joel who’s never tried digital p0rn, only his old magazines that are yellow with age.

Dirty Old Man Joel who’s never googled p0rn before until he’s typing you features after the word and burying himself in the results.

Dirty Old Man Joel who offers to do your laundry when you’re busy so he can sneak a peek at what undies you wear.

Dirty Old Man Joel who tells you that, no, he didn’t see your favorite black silky pair in the wash… They must’ve gotten eaten by the dryer or something.

Dirty Old Man Joel who jerks off into those same panties that night. The first time he’s been able to cum twice in the same night since his divorce.

Dirty Old Man Joel who hears your vibrator through the thin apartment walls of your shared building and fists his cock to your barely audible moans.

Dirty Old Man Joel who, when you come home from a filling, fakes shock that you had a cavity. “I hear your toothbrush every night. You go to town with that thing.” And enjoys watching you blush and splutter in embarrassment.

Dirty Old Man Joel who smirks to himself when his one night stand makes a comment about his “grouchy neighbor giving me a dirty look”

Dirty Old Man Joel who opens the door dripping wet from his shower because he heard you pounding on his door.

Dirty Old Man Joel who thanks you for picking his wallet up off the hallway floor and returning it to him.

Dirty Old Man Joel who dropped it on purpose so he could answer the door fresh from the shower.

Dirty Old Man Joel who clutches his towel tighter around his waist to hide his hard-on when he watches you blatantly check him out.

Dirty Old Man Joel who knows through the wall when you’re faking an orgasm for the sake of your shitty boyfriend and dreams about making you cum for real.

Dirty Old Man Joel who bakes you cookies after you tell him in passing that your boyfriend was cheating on you.

Dirty Old Man Joel who hugs you while you cry and totally doesn’t offer his apartment if you get lonely and want to watch a movie.

Dirty Old Man Joel who fucks you on the sofa when you inevitably come over, having to push your face into one of his old throw pillows to muffle your sounds.

Dirty Old Man Joel who makes you cum twice on his face and once on his fingers before he gives you his cock because he just popped a viagra and it hasn’t kicked in yet.

Dirty Old Man Joel who then uses the power of Viagra to fuck you into oblivion for several hours until you’re certain you can’t speak.

Dirty Old Man Joel who cums inside you every time because he got a vasectomy after his divorce and you’re both clean.

Dirty Old Man Joel who laughs at you when your legs start shaking as he’s plowing into you and smacks your face “You alive in there, kiddo?” while he’s balls deep in your cunt.

Dirty Old Man Joel who knows just how to grind against you to have you screaming even after you’ve already just cum.

Dirty Old Man Joel who hasn’t used his phone to take a picture in months but now he’s putting on his glasses and figuring out the buttons because he wants to take a picture of his cum leaking out of your pussy.

Dirty Old Man Joel who, despite his perviness, comes to clean you up with a warm washcloth and cuddles you into his chest after you’re thoroughly fucked dumb on his cock and drooling in pleasure.

Dirty Old Man Joel who only lets you go back to your apartment when he’s sure you’re ready and drops off breakfast the next morning because “you must’ve worked up an appetite.”

Dirty Old Man Joel who tells you to come over any time you want.

You and Dirty Old Man Joel who set up ‘movie nights’ and even go through the trouble of making popcorn.

Before you ask, no, he doesn’t remember what movie you put on.