nerdieforpedro

[nerdieforpedro]

Sometimes The Mandalorian skips scenes at the most infuriating times and leaves us with burning questions.

For instance in Chapter 7, when IG-11 brings tea into Kuiil's house. He's clearly carrying THREE cups (for Din, Cara and Kuiil).

Din was probably sat there under his helmet like this:

I can imagine him sitting there getting increasingly frustrated and thinking to himself: "They know I can't remove my helmet in the presence of others, why do *I* have a cup????"

I mean, he hated IG-11 so much at that point that he probably wouldn't have wanted it anyway... but now I have the mental image of Din awkwardly grabbing a cup, ducking through Kuiil's tiny door and sipping his tea outside like a polite house guest 🍵

It's the little things, you know?

[nerdieforpedro]

A second Pedro gif as tax.

This is a list of all the things all of us should do no matter if you’re a reader or a writer 📝

991 i hav emerjenci

Wow, what an absolute dumpster fire, right? *gestures broadly* ↓Below the cut↓ are some specific things as a reader/mutual/friend/etc you can do that will make things a little better.

You come across someone posting/using someone else's work without express permission to do so:

INFORM THE ORIGINAL CREATOR/POSTER (OP) DIRECTLY ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Let OP know BEFORE you attempt to engage with the person on their behalf. ✧ OP will probably want to lay eyes on the situation, and, if the person stealing their work is tipped off, they might proactively block OP and/or remove posts before they can be verified as stolen. ✧ Do not harass the person who stole the work. It might be coming from a place of wanting to stick up for OP, but it ultimately doesn't help the situation.

OP is experiencing a hate brigade, nasty anons, or trolling over their fic:

PRIORITIZE ACTIONS AND BEHAVIORS THAT KEEP THE FOCUS ON SUPPORT FOR OP ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Reblog the fic in question with a glowing recommendation or just leave a comment under it expressing your appreciation for it. Both actions will boost the work in question as well as show direct support for OP. ✧ Reach out privately through DMs if you have that sort of relationship, or send a supportive message through asks. Keep it simple and short as they are probably overwhelmed with the shitstorm at certain points. ✧ Speaking up with a supportive comment or post for OP isn't necessarily a bad thing, but arguing back and forth with the trolls/hate brigade/etc. - even if you are doing it with intention to support OP - only fuels the fire, and some of them are doing it for the attention anyway.

OP seems down / isn't motivated to write / is expressing considerations of leaving fic writing altogether because of the current climate on this hellsite:

GIVE THEM THE SPACE OR TIME THEY NEED, BUT ALSO LET THEM KNOW THAT THEY ARE VALUED ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ For the love of god please don't bombard them with asks about when xyz is going to be posted. This is a hobby for them, and they have jobs, families, and other life responsibilities that come first. Many would love nothing more than to sit and write all day, but that just isn't the reality for 99% of fic writers. ✧ Show their older works love, too. Many fic writers take the time to curate an organized masterlist of their works, and many have been writing for a while. There is a trove of wonderful content that can be read or re-read while you patiently wait for your fave to update. ✧ If you're waiting for an update on a specific fic, go back through the older chapters/updates and leave a comment saying you love it so much that you're coming back to visit older chapters while you wait to see what happens next in the story. I guarantee it will give them a boost of motivation for that story in particular. ✧ REBLOG AND COMMENT. Yes, do both of those things. I want you open up a fic you love and scroll down to the bottom where you can see likes, comments, and reblogs. I want you to look at the disparity between likes and comments/reblogs. Clicking a heart button is pretty much zero effort, and it comes across as such to many writers. It's not how Tumblr operates. This is a REBLOG site. That is how things make their way around. That is how posts get engagement. That is how other people can discover the fic writers you enjoy. Look, I even made a meme to show you what it feels like when after hours and hours of writing and editing you finally post a fic and then somebody only hearts it:

Even a simple "I loved this so much and can't wait to read more!" does wonders. A quick reblog that mentions your favorite part in the story is like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow for writers.

You come across people trashing a writer you like:

CONSIDER IF IT'S HELPFUL OR NOT TO ADDRESS IT ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ People are allowed to have negative/differing opinions about things. If they are expressing their dislike, even in a nasty way, they are allowed to do so. ✧ If it is a genuinely harmful/disparaging conversation, look to see what sort of traction the conversation has. Sometimes it's better to just let something die down before it can even take off. Examples of genuinely harmful/disparaging conversation include but aren't limited to: accusing OP of something egregious without any evidence to support it, framing rumors/gossip they've seen about OP as factual, deeming them criminally or morally corrupt based off a personal opinion they have of OP/their works. ✧ Remember that while serious concerns (like the above point) might be good to share with OP, not every instance of negativity or hate needs to be brought to their attention. If it's just some random jerk on a different platform talking about how much OP's writing is amateur hour, you should probably just leave it be. OP is a person at the end of the day, and sometimes things can be more hurtful than helpful for them to see.

OP isn't acting / responding in a way that you like:

REMIND YOURSELF THAT THEY ARE JUST ANOTHER PERSON IN THE FANDOM AND ARE NOT AN INFLUENCER ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ OP isn't in this fandom to be put on a pedestal (of course there are always exceptions, but I'm not talking about those people) and treated like an influencer. ✧ OP creates works in the fandom because that is how they choose to engage with the fandom. It is one of many ways that people can come together in a community and celebrate an actor/movie/series/etc. ✧ OP is not a content farm. They are writing and sharing because they genuinely enjoy it. They are not being compensated. They are not being endorsed by anybody or any company. They are a normal person trying to take part in a fandom they enjoy. ✧ OP is not obligated to address or comment on a situation, an interaction, discourse, etc. They are not an influencer and aren't equivalent to the parasocial relationships that influencers (aka people who make a living off the internet) have with their followers. OP is not required to "use their platform" for something. It's not a platform. It is OP's personal account where they engage and post in fandom. That is why it exists. OP is not some mega entity that has to speak on something because you demand or expect it.

OP blocked me:

THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Listen, I know it can be hurtful/confusing if you are blocked, especially if it is a writer you really like. I guarantee you that it was not done out of spite and for no reason. ✧ Take a look at the circles you run in, the posts you like, the sort of comments you leave, etc. Many writers are quick to block these days because the climate of this hellsite is very charged and exhausting. If OP sees your username cropping up again and again in fandom drama or you liked a discourse post with a shitty take or your chummy mutual is going off the rails with some bullshit, you might just get caught up in the Block Party. ✧ Don't go through another channel/account to ask why you've been blocked. No, you aren't entitled to a reason. OP is allowed to protect their mental health and peace, and they don't owe anyone an explanation of why and how they choose to curate their experience on this hellsite. ✧ If you believe you were blocked by mistake (which, again, is very unlikely), just take the L, homie. I know that's not what you want to hear, but that's just how it is.

If you took the time to read this, share it, or just in general intend to apply it to your interactions, ✨thank you✨!

Here is a Pedro gif tax for your time and attention. 💜

#fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #what to do when reading fanfic #fanfic etiquette

[nerdieforpedro]

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it.....

"Kissed by a Rose"

I’m unclear if you’re sending me the title and want me to write something about it or vice versa. Or (much more likely) my brain is playing tricks on me and this is actually more direct than I think it is. 😆

“Kissed by a Rose” reminds me of husband Pero Tovar and his spouse from my Spring Prompts last month. Likely when the first met or the few first meetings.

Pero is used to dealing in brothels and those who are very offering themselves to him and he likes his fill of many things.

He had to talk his future spouse into a walk among flowers and gave them a poppy flower. He thought the red suited them and they kissed him, making him promise that they’d get a rose the next time.

“As sweet as your lips are amor, I’ll find you the reddest rose I can. Then I’ve earned more kisses from you.”

Pero in fact came back with a dozen of them and collected his kisses slow with some added exploration. 👀🥰 Hehe

I either answered this correctly or was total sidetracked 🤭

Thanks as always @megamindsecretlair ❤️❤️❤️

I’m gonna add @tinytinymenace @avastrasposts @604to647 and @soft-persephone because they are Pero enthusiasts and should weigh in.

Also @morallyinept because I still think of the “Grumble Grumble” giflet from time to time. Yes I remember the name. I pay attention….sometimes. 😗

#Nerdie’s box #Mega was here #with the essential questions #pedro pascal characters #pero tovar #fanfiction #I feel like I answered it but also maybe not

[nerdieforpedro]

Whew.. 😰 the swirling of feelings and Frankie in an alley 🥵🥵🥵

That plastic though.. 🫣

[Sin]ema- ex fiance!Frankie Morales x fat! female reader

Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Paring: ex husband!Frankie x fat/curvy/plus size! female reader

Summary: You are unhappy in your marriage but trying to hang on. When you ask your husband to spend more time with you, he thinks a movie date is in order. You don't expect to run into your ex fiance, Frankie, and his new wife there.

Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: infidelity, unprotected PIV, oral sex f!receiving, creampie, body insecurity, smoking- there are a few things I'm not tagging so as to not spoil them but they are tame.

Notes: I wrote this a while back in response to that dumbass anon and for some reason I just totally forgot about it!

When you told your husband that you wanted to spend more time together, this isn’t what you had in mind. You were hoping for something more like dinner. Out at a restaurant or a quiet night in, it didn’t matter to you. You just wanted to talk. Something your husband has no interest in. As evidenced by the fact that he brought you to the one place you couldn’t talk for your date.  Some days you find yourself wondering if this is all you’ll have to look forward to for the rest of your life. 

You only married him because that was the logical next step. Your whole relationship was just one milestone to the next, as dictated by the expectations society has set for you. Especially for women who look like you. Growing up in the 90s meant you were bombarded daily by the “heroin chic” look that was on the cover of every magazine. You could count the ribs of the models. By the time you hit high school, you had already been taught, however indirectly, that you weren’t pretty enough. There was too much of you. The fat girls in all the rom-coms were always the comic relief. The one someone had to “take one for the team” with. The one who had to settle for what she was given. 

To be fair, your husband never made you feel this way. He was genuinely interested in you. In who you are as a person. But somehow, it always felt like he loved you in spite of. Sure, you were what people would politely call “chubby,” but he loved you anyway. You had learned to love yourself years ago. Not in spite of your body, but because of it. Stretch marks, cellulite and all. You probably wouldn’t even know the difference between someone loving you just the way you are, and someone loving you anyway , if it hadn’t been for Frankie. 

Frankie had been the first man to see you for exactly who you were. Not someone who he could love if you just lost those twenty little pounds. Not someone he could diet and exercise you into being. Just you. And goddamn had he loved you. Every inch. Every roll. Every stretch mark. He reveled in the softness of your body. He worshiped at the altar that lay between your plump thighs. 

But, such things weren’t meant to last. You were engaged to be married, but something happened to him after his first tour overseas. When he came home he wasn’t the same man he had been before. He didn’t laugh as much. His eyes had a far-off look to them. As if he wasn’t really present anymore. He fucked you with an urgency, a fervor, that he never had before. Held on too tightly. Almost like you’d float away if he didn’t. Or he would, you were never really sure which. 

When he came home from his second tour he called off the wedding. Told you that you deserved better. He didn’t believe you when you said there was nobody better for you than him. When you think about what your life has become you almost want to say “joke’s on him.” Is it really, though? Perhaps the joke has always been on you. 

It feels strange to think of him after all these years, seemingly out of the blue. Especially since, or maybe because, you are concerned about the state of your marriage. You’d heard he got married a few years ago. You wonder if he ever thinks of you. Finally, it's your turn to hand your tickets to the theater employee. You don’t even remember the name of the film you are seeing. Some action movie you have no desire to actually watch. At least the previews will be good. 

You walk silently, hand in hand, with your husband to the concessions counter. You wait in line, shoulder to shoulder, without so much as a word passing between you. When you get to the counter he orders for you, a small drink and  popcorn each. When you get your snacks and turn to head for the theater, you are struck still. There he is. Right in front of you. Frankie. 

Even with the hat, you’d know him anywhere. Standing next to him, with her arm threaded through his, is one of the most gorgeous women you have ever seen. Their heads are bent together in laughter. He was always funny. The diamond on her finger reflects the bright lights of the theater lobby. You had played sick and stayed in your bed for three days when the news reached you that he had gotten married. You had found yourself wondering, what does she have that I don’t?

Now, standing before them, you think you might know. She’s all the things you knew you would never be. As much as you hate to think it of him, maybe this is the reason he called off your wedding. You didn’t even know he moved back. Your husband tugs your arm, pulling you from your thoughts. Just before you turn to walk away, Frankie’s eyes snap up and lock on yours. They widen in surprise and his mouth opens in a soft ‘o.’  

You move to walk away, intending to ignore his presence altogether, but he speaks your name. It’s so quiet you almost think you imagined it, until he repeats it, a little louder this time. Your husband nudges you with his elbow and gives you a curious look. Yo know you probably seem like a fucking idiot right now but you just can’t seem to make your mouth form words. 

Frankie catches on quickly and holds his hand out to your husband. 

“Hi there, Frank Morales.”

Your husband’s eyebrows fly towards his hairline as he recognizes the name, and its significance. He extends his hand to return the gesture. Frankie gestures towards his wife and introduces her as well, though you forget her name the second he says it. You shake her hand politely, giving her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. She doesn’t react to your name the way your husband did to Frankie’s. Maybe he never told her about you. Maybe you’ve made the whole thing out to be more serious than it ever was. Than he ever was. You nod along to the small talk you aren’t actually listening to. You can’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart inside your ears. 

Your husband shakes Frankie’s hand again and waves to his wife. You give her a slight wave and lock eyes with Frankie once more. There’s a sad look in his eyes and just maybe, a flash of regret. The corner of his mouth turns up in a small smile as he puts his arm around his wife’s shoulder and heads in the opposite direction. 

Once settled into the packed theater, you are thankful for the darkness. When the movie begins you don’t try as hard to hold the tears back. What are the odds that he would be here of all places, of all nights? You don’t pay any attention to the movie though you stare straight ahead at the screen. You couldn’t recap it if your life were dependent upon it, beyond the occasional explosion and maybe a nip slip or too. 

Suddenly it feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. Your heart races and your face heats up. The room feels much smaller, the walls closer than they had been before. You take in a couple of deep, slow breaths, trying to quiet the unease that has taken root inside your body. The little voice nagging at the back of your mind, posing the question you haven’t allowed yourself in years. What if?

You need to get out of here. Get some fresh air. Your husband barely acknowledges your presence as you scoot past him, with a hushed excuse of “bathroom.” You climb down the carpeted steps and glance at your phone. There’s about thirty minutes left in the film and you wonder if he would notice if you just slipped back in just before the credits roll. 

You splash water on your face in the bathroom, drying it and your hands with a paper towel. You look in the mirror and fuss with your hair for a moment. You readjust the thigh high socks and pull your skirt down just a bit. When you walk out of the bathroom into the long hallway you look first left, then right. Left will take you back to the theater, back to the movie. Back to your husband. Right will take you out the side exit. To the alley on the side of the multiplex. 

The hydraulic door makes a loud click when it shuts behind you. A whiff of cigarette smoke invades your nostrils and you turn. Right there, next to the door, is Frankie. His back is against the wall and his right knee is bent, cowboy boot resting on the brick. He blows out another cloud of smoke and throws the cigarette butt on the ground. It rolls, embers still red and smoking, until it hits a crack in the sidewalk. You stand there and watch it until the tip turns dark and the last of the smoke wafts away into the night. 

“Hey there, bonita ”

You try to swallow past the thick lump in your throat as the heat once again flares inside your body. The sticky humidity of the night has your socks clinging to your thighs. The smoldering look in your ex’s eyes causes your panties to grow damp beneath your skirt. He pushes off the wall and takes a step towards you. You are once again frozen in place, unable to think of anything to say. He pulls his cap off by the bill and runs his fingers through his messy curls. You can still remember how your fingers feel tangled in them. How they would tickle the skin of your chest when he would fall asleep wrapped around you. 

“Guess I’ll leave you be. It was good to see you.” He spins on his heel and turns to head back inside. He gives you one last look, brown eyes as sad as you’ve ever seen them. 

Say something you fucking idiot!  

“Frankie. Wait.” 

He turns back around and closes the distance between you in just a few strides. His body crowds yours and you take a step back. Another half step and your back hits the brick. You suck in a deep breath and his arm extends, bringing his hand to rest on the wall beside your head. 

“I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna speak to me, baby.” He rasps, inching his face even closer to yours. 

“I didn- I just- I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He places his hand at the hinge of your jaw and runs his thumb across your cheek. When you lean into his touch, closing your eyes, he moves his body even closer. 

“I thought maybe you didn’t miss me.” He holds your face just a little firmer, his lips barely brush over yours. “Not even a little bit.”  He smells like cigarettes and movie theater butter. 

You shouldn’t be doing this. Neither of you should. But you just can’t stop yourself from leaning forward a bit, hoping to catch his lips between your own. But just before you can, he pulls back. You open your mouth to protest but he places his finger over your lips. He grabs your hand and pulls you further down the alley. 

There is no light back here save for a single yellowing bulb, and Frankie pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns the flashlight on. Once he’s pulled you far enough away from the entrance to the alley, and any prying eyes, he pushes you back against the wall. He must have already gotten his fill of teasing because he immediately captures your lips in a ravenous kiss and presses his thigh right against your center. You grind down on him while your hands move automatically to his hair, knocking his cap to the ground. 

His hands go to your hips and he moans when the soft flesh yields under his touch. He inches his thigh even closer and you give his curls a tug. He releases your lips and groans low in your ear. His hands slide up your side, caressing the flesh that lives there. He drags them back down, dropping to his knees on the concrete. His fingers dip under your skirt, exposing the tops of your socks. His nostrils flare as he pops the top against your thigh. 

He lifts your skirt higher, until it sits up on your hips and he can see that you are already soaked for him. He buries his nose in the fabric, pressing it into your mound. The wet cotton is cool against your skin but the sensation is opposed by the hot breath he lets out. He inhales deeply and moans against you. He looks up at you and you are already so worked up, just one touch from him is liable to push you over the edge. 

“Fuck, I missed you bonita .”  

Before you can even respond he lifts your leg, resting your thigh on his shoulder. He scoots forwards on his knees until he can’t get any closer. He bites your mound softly through the fabric of your panties and your knees begin to wobble. He pulls them to the side with the hand that isn’t cradling your thigh against his face. His stubble pricks the soft skin there as he presses his tongue lightly against your clit. He doesn’t move it yet, just holds it there, savoring the taste of you. Reveling in the way it throbs against his tongue. 

Only when you start squirming and tugging on his hair does he finally move. He swirls his tongue in slow, precise circles around your clit. He still knows your body so well, even after all this time. He knows exactly how to have you dripping for him, whining for him. 

“Fuck! Frankie, please. ” You beg. 

“I know, baby. You need more.” He whispers. He stands from the ground and you whine at the loss of his mouth. “Turn around.” He instructs. You pout but do as he says. You know that whatever he has in mind, he’s gonna make you feel good. 

“Put your hands on the wall.” You look at him over your shoulder and he just cocks his eyebrow expectantly. “Do it.” 

You place your hands against the wall and your ass sticks out. Frankie grabs the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs, lifting your feet one at a time for you to step out of them. You expect to hear the clinking of his belt but instead you feel his hand land a swat on your ass. From your position, you miss the look of delight as the flesh ripples from his touch. He grabs a handful of ass in each hand and spreads your cheeks apart. He resumes his previous activities. Long, slow swipes of his tongue. Through your folds and around your clit.

It doesn’t take long to have you teetering on the precipice. He still recognizes the signals your body gives him. He knows you are close. His fingers fly to your clit and his tongue breaches your entrance. His exaltation is rewarded with the feeling of your walls fluttering around his tongue. He laps up everything you have to give him and only stops when you bat his hand away. He plants a kiss on your ass cheek and lands another, softer swat on the other before he rises to his feet. His hands return to your hips and he presses his denim covered bulge against your asscrack. 

“Feel what you do to me, baby?” He asks as he pulls back onto him. Still coming down from your peak you can only nod your head in response. “I think he missed you even more than I did.” 

His hands leave you once more and the telltale sound of his belt being unbuckled and his zipper coming down fills the alley. He rests his cock, thick and uncut, on your bare asscrack. He reaches around you and runs his fingers through your folds, gathering your release. You whimper at his touch, aching for him to be inside you. 

He rubs the head in between your cheeks, down past your asshole until it catches on your entrance. Slowly, he nudges himself inside of your cunt. You’ve had bigger dicks before, longer ones. But you’ve never had one as thick as Frankie. Just on the edge of too big , he stretches you open around him. Your walls give way to him and he buries himself inside you. 

“ Oh fuck, baby!” He cries out, unable to keep his voice down.  

“You’re gonna get us caught.” You turn and look over your shoulder and are treated to the sight of the near-feral look in his eyes. Your insides turn liquid when winks at you. He’s just like you remembered he was, before the war took him away from you, devilish little grin and all. His hands move to the spot where your hips and ass meet. He grips you firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh. 

He fucks into you with the same kind of desperation as the last time you were together. He knows this moment together is fleeting and now you understand the urgency he was feeling back then. With your hands planted firmly on the wall, you meet his every thrust. The slick sound of skin against skin fills the darkness in the alley. Your thighs begin to burn and Frankie’s pace falters. A half a dozen or so thrusts and he’s cursing out into the night. 

“Shit! Ohfuckohshit baby!” He cries and you are so fucked out you can’t even form a coherent thought. He spills inside of you and the twitching of his cock and the way he sounds when whimpering is dragging you over the edge again. He pulls out of you and his come slips out, falling to the pavement in thick globs. He spins you around by your elbow and your back is up against the wall again. 

He lays his head on your shoulder with his nose buried in your neck. Your fingers thread in his hair once more and you just stand there, together. Your chests heave against each other and you just enjoy the feel of each other, the smell. But nothing gold can stay and the moment breaks. You shuffle silently in the near dark, righting your clothes and deciding what to say or not say. Frankie picks his hat up from the ground and dusts it off with the same fingers that were buried inside you moments ago. You pull your panties back over your shoes and up your legs. They stick to your skin from your own arousal and the come that still dribbles out of you. You both avoid the other’s face. 

You walk hand in hand back down the alley until you reach where the light is. When you drop his hand he finally looks at you. 

“I’m not sure what to say here.” He admits and for the first time tonight you cannot read his expression

“It was good to see you.” you reply, mirroring his earlier sentiment. You walk out of the alley and back to the theater. 

“ Bonita , wait.” He calls after you. You slow down briefly, but square your shoulders and continue on. 

You use the bathroom and try to clean yourself up as much as possible before sliding back into your seat. Your husband leans over the armrest. “You okay”? He asks, never taking his eyes off the screen. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You take a sip of your soda, now mostly watered down. 

“You took a while.” He points out.

“Long line.” He doesn’t even acknowledge your response, more focused on the film’s climax. 

The credits roll after a few minutes and you stand. Your shoes stick to the floor in a way you hadn’t noticed before. Your husband grabs your hand at the end of the row and leads you down the steps. In the lobby you see Frankie and his wife coming out of their theater. She’s snuggled up under his arm, in the place that you used to call home. You and Frankie meet gazes for a moment and you both quickly look away. 

On the way home, you feign interest in your husband’s recap of the film and its best scenes. You nod your head and interject with an occasional “mhmm.” he holds your hand the whole way home, rubbing his thumb along your fingers affectionately. Once home, you get into the shower right away, wanting nothing more than to wash Frankie off of your body, out of your body. The smell of him, the feel, the taste. You fucked up. This shouldn’t have happened. The last thing you ever want to do is hurt your husband. Or break up Frankie’s marriage. 

By the time you get dressed and walk to your bed, your husband is already asleep. His face looks so peaceful. If only he knew. 

A few months later

You haven’t spoken to Frankie since that night at the movies. To be honest, you weren’t expecting to. He must have his own share of guilt and regret from that night. Yet, here you sit at a cafe on the opposite side of town. You sip your water and watch the door. You check the time on your phone even though you know it will show that only a minute or two has passed since the last time you looked. 

Finally, that mop of brown curls hidden under his ever present baseball cap appears. He looks around the small dining area for you and his face lights up when he finds you. You give him a small wave and he starts towards your table. When he reaches you he bends down and kisses your cheek, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. 

He’s all smiles when he opts for the chair right next to you, as opposed to the one across. He places his arm on the back of your chair and his fingers skim along your shoulder. 

“I’m happy you called, Bonita. ” 

“I was surprised to find your number in the pocket of my skirt.” You admit. You almost threw it away a dozen times in the weeks after that night.

“I was hoping you would use it.”

“I really needed to talk to you.” You fidget with silverware on the table nervously and Frankie’s brows knit in concern. 

“What’s wrong, baby?”

You reach into the pocket of your jacket and close your fingers around the ziploc bag nestled safely in there. You hesitate a moment before pulling it out and setting it on the table. 

“What’s this?” He asks, picking it up. It only takes a moment for his brain to catch up. “Shit.” He says under his breath as he takes in the contents. 

Funny how something so small, just a couple of pieces of pink and white plastic, can mean something so big. 

“Shit.” He repeats, staring at the bag as that little pink plus sign stares right back at him. 

since tags are being fucky again I'm going to discontinue my taglist for a while. follow me over at @ramble-on-fics and turn on post notifications for updates!

#nerdie fic rec #frankie friday #frankie x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #fat reader #curvy reader

[nerdieforpedro]

@spacecowboyhotch 👀 Grab Reid, like why is he…?

And also the tags are GOLDEN 🌼

This scene makes me feral…

The watch, the jaw, the wrist flick, the VEST….🤤

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #my god #the man is gorgeous #like whyyy #the hyperfixation is hyperfixating #real bad #till his mom remembers my name

[nerdieforpedro]

I understand the idea. That someone who appears like they have an answer for everything and have everything together. You wonder….do they? And you may only be able to take them in small doses. 😆

Hozier on the meaning behind Too Sweet 🖤

❝ But the song as an idea was kind of an alternative for the circle of gluttony on the record. ❞

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozieredit #too sweet #wasteland baby #unreal unearth #eat your young #unheard ep #musicdaily #musician

[nerdieforpedro]

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine Daisy is the one on the far right. They’re all adorable, but it picture the one on the end as being Daisy 🌼 ❤️❤️❤️

Lots of baby goats being born!

#cute #animals #goats #gifs #nature #fluffy #wild #sensory #cuteness #pedro pascal characters

[nerdieforpedro]

🌺 send this to ten blogs you think are wonderful 🌺

I feel like these whenever I get one of these in my inbox. 🥰 Ya’ll are always so sweet. ❤️

#Nerdie’s box #nice people #lovely moots 💕

[nerdieforpedro]

I just…it’s when you kind know where we’re headed. It’s coming, and when it does it hits hard! 😭😭😭

The switch, the gaslighting - getting mad that a friend’s wife notices bruises that you’ve put on your wife. Then the out of body experience she needed to endure him 😭😭😭😭

He’s going to watch her like a hawk because now people are noticing what’s wrong. 😨

I’m nervously excited for the next chapter.

To the Flame chapter 13

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 2.9k

Chapter warnings: physical abuse, mental abuse, manipulation, non consensual piv sex, non consensual vaginal fingering, degradation, alcoholism, panic attacks, fluff at the beginning, hurt/no comfort, non consensual makeout session, suicidal thoughts, self hate

Chapter Summary: Javi does something he won't be able to take back.

A/N: Hey, babes. This is the first chapter in which Javi takes the reader in a non consensual way. This time won't be super in depth, but the next times will be. It hit very close to home for me and was difficult to write, but I'm glad I got it down. It's a pretty tough chapter regardless, and I hope that you keep my warning in mind <3

*****

You wake up to a soft hammering sound coming from the kitchen. It’s faint as you start to come around, pulling the sheets up to your eyes to guard yourself from the sun pouring in through the window. You don’t remember coming to the bed last night. Javi must have carried you in, you realize after a moment. 

The thought of Javi taking care of you again makes you smile, and you realize that the sound must be him working on the tiles or cabinets you had asked him about. You smile and stretch out, deciding you may as well get up. You pull the blanket from your body and let the light bathe you for a moment as you slowly open your eyes and adjust to the brightness. You stay there for a moment, enjoying the peaceful feeling that’s settled within you this morning. 

After a few minutes pass, you hear a small crash come from the front of the apartment, waking you up from the half-asleep state you’d fallen back into. You sigh and slide out of bed, pulling on one of Javi’s tees that had been piled on the floor since he seems to have stripped you to your underwear when he tucked you in bed last night. You quickly move to the kitchen, a bit worried about whatever that sound had been.

“Javi?” You call his name as you reach the doorway and find him crouched over what looks like a broken tile. He pops up quickly and holds a hand out to stop you. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” he gently warns. “Dropped a damn tile.” 

You nod and take a step back after reaching to hand him the broom that was propped in the corner closest to you. He thanks you and begins gathering the pieces into the dustpan. He’s quick to get it all and dump it into the trash can, doing one more scan of the floor before turning back to you. A smile spreads across his face as he crosses back to you. 

“Well don’t you look gorgeous in my shirt,” he marvels as he embraces you. You giggle into his chest and let him gently sway you as you bask in his warmth. 

“What would you like to do today, bebita?” 

You shrug. “Whatever you want.” 

He chuckles quietly and plants a kiss on your head. “Well, I mostly just planned on getting some stuff done around the apartment today.” 

So that’s what you do. It’s honestly the best day you’ve had in weeks. You didn’t do much but sit and talk with Javi while he hung cabinets and put tile down, but you couldn’t have been happier. It was like everything clicked back into place and nothing had ever gone wrong. 

By the time the two of you were getting ready for bed, you were brimming with contentment. You cooked one of your favorite dishes for dinner, and the two of you laughed over a bottle of wine before snuggling up together in bed and going to sleep to buzzed conversation. 

You’d fallen asleep to Javi’s strong arms wrapped around you, but when you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re alone in bed. You jump awake, startled by a crash from the kitchen. It’s louder than the one from this morning. Or maybe yesterday morning. You’re not sure what time it is. You’re more concerned about what the hell Javi might be doing and if he may have hurt himself. 

You pull yourself out of bed and slip on a shirt before padding out to the hallway. You get an odd sense of deja-vu as you creep into the kitchen the same way you had this morning. This time, though, there’s a strange feeling rolling through your stomach. You’re not sure why, but it’s enough to make you almost nauseous. 

“Javi?” You meekly call his name as you round the corner to find him sitting at the small table. There’s an ashtray in front of him as well as a glass of whiskey. You know it’s whiskey because of the empty and shattered bottle laying carelessly on the ground by his chair. He doesn’t have the lights on, the only bit of light coming from the streetlamps beneath the small window. 

He doesn’t even look at you as you walk toward him, taking slow and careful steps. There’s panic already starting to rise within you. You’ve never seen him act this way—like he’s not really there with you. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence, just as unbothered with you as he is the broken bottle on the floor. 

As you reach the table, you can almost smell the stench of the alcohol emanating from him. Ignoring your dry mouth, you gently place your hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch, but he still doesn’t turn to look at you. Instead, he raises his glass to his lips and downs the last bit of whiskey at the bottom. 

“J-Javi?” 

This time, he turns his head just slightly, not exactly looking at you, but at least letting you know that he knows you’re there and speaking. 

“Why don’ you grab me another bottle, sweetheart,” Javi slurs lazily as he lets his head loll to rest on your hand. Your heart squeezes at the sound of his voice. As long as you’ve known him, he’s never drunk this heavily. Sure, he’s been picking up more beer as of late, but this is a whole new level for him. 

“No, Javi, I think you’ve had enough.” You mean for it to sound assertive, but it comes out quiet and sounds more like a suggestion. 

He spins fully now to look into your eyes, though his stare is much less imposing than usual. There’s instead a glassy and distant look to them. 

“An’ did I fuckin’ ask you?” 

You flinch back slightly at the ferocity of his words. He ignores it and pushes out of his chair and then passes you to get to the alcohol cabinet. He throws open the cupboard door, letting it slam against the back of another, and snatches another full bottle of whiskey as you jump again at the sound. You take a step back this time as he brushes past and sits back down. He starts to pry the top off of the bottle and you spring into action. You can’t let him have more. It’s on you now if he drinks too much. 

You wrap both of your hands around it and try to take it from him, but he only holds on tighter. You’re so tired and disoriented already, you really don’t want this to be an issue. 

“Javi, please let go, you’ve had enough.” It comes out a bit stronger this time, and it gives you a bit of confidence to see something flash in his eyes. In an instant, he lets go of the bottle. 

You sigh as he stands back up. “Thank you—” 

Your eyes widen in terror as you watch raise his hand and rear it back. It almost happens in slow motion, the twist of your stomach and the way your breathing shallows. Everything in your head empties and is instead replaced by fear and confusion. Your heart drops and you try to get out of the way, but he brings his palm down across your cheek before you can. You yelp and stagger back, dropping the whiskey in the process. 

There’s a loud thunk at your feet as you cradle your cheek and drop yourself to the floor, shuffling away from Javi as quickly as you can. You’re not even crying yet, just shaking uncontrollably. You get all the way to the wall before you stop and look up at Javi, who has already taken a seat again and popped open the dropped whiskey. You feel the tears fall now, letting you see him clearly instead of through the blur. Faintly, you think you hear him murmur something along the lines of “shut you up last time”, and it causes a sharp twinge from somewhere deep inside of you.

You think you might be hyperventilating, because you feel light and everything still seems to happen too slow. You don’t understand. You didn’t do anything. Why would he do that? 

“Don’ look at me like that,” Javi’s too-casual voice comes from in front of you. You realize you zoned out as you let your eyes focus again to see him looking down at you from the table. “‘S your fuckin’ fault.” 

Your head shakes. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything. 

“N-no—” 

“Got a call from Steve today,” he goes on, ignoring you. “Told me his wife was concerned about a bruise she thought she saw on your face,” he motions to his own face with a lazy finger before grabbing the bottle again.

You think you might throw up. 

“Told him it was a shadow. Don’t think he believed me.” He stands back up now, walking toward you. You heave an audible sob as you back as far as you can into the wall, and you come to an awful realization. You’re fucking terrified of him right now. He has a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, one that can’t guarantee anything good. He’s watching you like you’re prey, like you’re something he wants to inflict pain upon. 

“Please stop,” you breathe. You can barely even hear it, so you know that he can’t. Your eyes screw shut, unable to watch this nightmare as he gets closer. You want to bolt, but you’re glued to your spot on the floor. Even though you can’t see it, you can sense him crouch down in front of you. 

“Look at me.” 

You shake your head, ignoring the tremble of your lips as your tears trail over them. 

“Look at me!” 

Your eyes snap open to find his face only about an inch from yours. You stare into his eyes, trying your best to keep them from closing again. His breath reeks of whiskey as it fans across your wet face. He doesn’t say anything, like he’s waiting for you to speak first. You know you should choose your words carefully, but you can’t. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, because you have no idea what else to say. 

The corners of his lips tug down as his eyes narrow. “Are you?” 

You let your eyelids flutter as you try to breathe normally. You can’t. So you nod, your head feeling heavy as you do so. You just want to lay down. The stinging on your cheek has climbed up your temple and is making your head pound.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, the words not really yours. They just spill from your tongue. They feel too heavy and too light at the same time, just like the rest of you. 

“Yeah? You want to kiss and make up? Make everything okay again?” His words are so taunting, dripping with condescension.

You just watch him, wishing the ground would swallow you up and let you go back to sleep in a quiet place. His hand comes up slowly to grab your chin in a manner so gentle that it makes you sob again even as you let your chin rest in his palm. You don’t dare take it away, and you honestly don’t think you really want to. The touch is comforting even if it is coming from him—or rather, this version of him. You refuse to acknowledge the fact that this man is still your husband. No, this is someone else. Some other person trapped inside of him that will go away eventually. Your Javi wouldn’t be so cruel. 

But you do nothing as that other person leans forward and slots your tear-soaked lips with his. You do nothing as he deepens it and slips his foul tongue into your mouth. Nothing as he grabs you and pulls you to him, nothing as he lowers you down to the floor and lets his body drape over yours, nothing as he carefully holds you and defiles your mouth with his. 

You focus on the fact that you can check out, not having to pay attention to the tears that keep crawling down your cheeks or the fact that the weight of your husband’s body suddenly feels so wrong. You can just focus on the numbness surrounding you, offering you an escape from the pain in your heart and mind. Just until this is over, until he’s had his fill of your lips against his.

You let him kiss you until your lips are swollen and all you can taste is him. Until you hear the unbuckling of his belt. 

You come back to reality, heart pounding as you squeal and struggle against him, pushing his chest and kicking your legs as his touch turns aggressive. He keeps his mouth over yours, muffling your cries and pleas as he holds you down, not caring about the force that is bound to set bruises upon your flesh. You’re trying to scream, trying to scramble away from him. Pure terror throbs in your veins, your heart aching with the rate of which it pumps it through your body. 

No, he wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t hurt you in this way. This is too much, even for whatever stranger is on top of you right now. Thinning tears streak down your face and get caught where Javi is smothering your lips in a rough show of dominance, letting you taste the panic and fear that cause them.

You feel like you can’t breathe, everything is too much. You scream so hard that your throat burns along with your eyes and lungs, but it’s a feeble attempt because Javi’s mouth catches it the second it breaches your swollen lips. You want to hurt him. You want to fucking kick him and claw him and hold him down and make him feel helpless and useless and scared. 

You’ve never in your life had a thought like that, but right now, there is not a single regret as the evil thoughts race through your brain. With every fiber of your being, you want him to feel the way you feel right now. 

But you can’t. So you just cry. And shake. And let your body go limp in defeat as he shoves your panties down your thighs. And hate yourself so damn much that you wish you could die. You don’t know where the hate comes from, but it completely envelops you and you feel a tug deep inside you that tells you that you deserve it. So you listen. 

You let yourself brew on that as he uncovers your mouth and kisses your chin and neck, as he brings his hand down to shove two fingers inside of you. You can’t make any sound. You wish you could. Inside you’re screaming, you���re crying for help and yelling at yourself to just fucking do something, but you can’t, and you don’t know why. You hate yourself for it. You’ve never felt so fucking helpless as you do now, breathing shallow breaths instead of using your voice while you have the chance. 

Tears scald your cheeks as breathless whimpers tumble from your bruised lips with every pump of his fingers. He chuckles against your neck as your eyes squeeze shut. You try not to think at all as he pulls his fingers back and clumsily lines his cock up with your entrance a few seconds later. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. 

You repeat it like a silent mantra as he pushes in, the stretch painful with no prep. He doesn’t even hesitate as you try one more time to get away, weakly pushing at his chest and using your feet to scramble back. He holds you in place and thrusts in, grunting into your ear as he fully sheaths himself. 

Breathe, breathe, breathe…

“Stop,” you hear yourself softly protest. It’s so weak, though. Like everything else. You don’t even know how you said it. 

“Jus’ fucking shut up for a second,” Javi breathes. “You’re fine, you want this, slut. ‘S what you were so damn desperate for.” 

You might nod. You’re not sure, but your head moves, so you think that’s what it might be doing. Another betrayal from your own body.

Javi finds a good pace to keep up and continues to nip at your jaw. And you let him. Your stomach churns with every grunt and groan that lands on your skin, but you let him, because there’s nothing else you can do. You let him take you for what feels like hours, until he spills inside of you and lifts himself from your numb body. 

He walks away for a while, and you stare at the ceiling until he comes back. Your lips are dry. It’s an odd thing to notice out of everything, but your lips are dry despite your tears coating them. You don’t lick them, though, because you don’t want to taste the whiskey on your skin or the salty taste of your vulnerability. 

You close your eyes as he stands over you, not able to bear looking him in the eye. He walks away again, and you keep your eyes shut like you’re trying to go to sleep. You know you can’t, but you feel better focusing on that than letting your brain wander anywhere else. You keep crying and trembling, because there’s nothing you can do about that either. Nothing feels real, but you’re not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse. 

You flinch hard when Javi comes back later to pick you up and take you to bed. Again, you let him. You know he knows you’re not asleep, but you pretend anyway. You let him lay you down, scared and torn apart from the inside, and this time, you do try to sleep. But it doesn’t come for a long, miserable time.

*****

Alright, where are we at on this?

Taglist:  @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff  @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-b @solarecI1spe

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist!

#Nerdie fic rec #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #Dark Javier Peña #javier peña x reader

[nerdieforpedro]

@sin-djarin A fic with Dave x Tim x and a reader does sound straight up delicious. 🤤

Like mouth-watering ma’am. I would like to see it. 👀 Or sniff it. I just know it smells like musk, holsters and knives or cargo pants.

Where is it Becca?

ΒTS by Molly Allen

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #Dave York #tim rockford #Dave York x Tim Rockford x reader #I’m not ready but my body is #so I’m fine with being teased Becca

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Last Sentence

I was tagged by: @chiriwritesstuff @ohforficsake @tinytinymenace @inept-the-magnificent

Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

This is from my untitled Javier Peña story. I have a title for chapter one, not chapter two and the fic itself has no title. 😅 It’s pretty though. 😆

A fresh start with someone who could just receive him as Javier Peña before learning about the stagnant waters that wear at his soul.

A bit pensive, Peña’s got range! (Again, this fits whichever pun you like, I can think of a few.) 😘

Twenty four words….for one sentence. 👀 I’m sorry 😢 So wordy… I will use ten words for three. 😆

NPT: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @grogusmum @connectioneverywhere @pedroshotwifey @goodwithcheese

@rhoorl @laurfilijames @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @slippinninque

@morallyinept @avastrasposts @maggiemayhemnj @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @soft-girl-musings

@magpiepills @secretelephanttattoo @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @julesonrecord @perotovar

@spacecowboyhotch @gasolinerainbowpuddles @djarinmuse @djarins-cyare

#wips #WIP last line #fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #the sentence was so long #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #my bad #but also I love it #this story feels fun to write #those are the best! #pedro pascal

[nerdieforpedro]

VII - Eyes

Only Parts of you Mr. Morales Series

Frankie Morales x Belinda (plus size OFC)

This fic and blog is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 423

Warnings: ANGST, implied sexual activity, mild intoxication

Summary: Frankie's eyes used to hide his emotions, but now they expose them.

Notes: The next to last chapter! I maybe was a tad evil in this one, but it will be fine. I think. Ask me later when I finish the finale.

Main Masterlist/ Frankie "Catfish" Morales Masterlist/ Only Parts of you Mr. Morales Series

Frankie prides himself on being able to keep a neutral face. He needed to during his time in the service and even before, he wasn’t one to show his emotions openly to those he didn’t trust. It’s why he’s so emotive with Pope, Will and Benny. They know him, they’ve shared the trenches and blood. Come out on the other side and lived to tell the tale. It doesn’t mean he didn’t feel though. The problem is that Francisco Morales carries his emotions tenaciously. They follow him. The good and bad. He’s often told that sometimes he can explode and go to the darkest of places quickly. The former special forces soldier is as quick to recover and go back to being jovial. 

Over the years, he’s evened out and keeps more of an equilibrium about him. It’s why he moves carefully now and at times worries that he is too distant from people, even his friends. But he laughed with her, and found himself venturing to her home, soon memorizing different routes from work, their favorite bar and the like. His body language now remained relaxed, save for his eyes that threaten to expose what he really thinks. Belinda captures his dark orbs daily. He’s always observing her, keeps track of when she changes her hairstyle, fingernail colors, the scar on her knee from hitting that diving board when she was ten, the stretch marks on her stomach and hips that he often holds during their evenings together, bodies entwined in one fashion or another. 

His eyes watch her as she sleeps on her chest. He has noticed though that something is a little different about her when he watches her dress in the mornings. Belinda has been wearing clothes that are a bit more loose. That doesn't hug her stomach as much. She says that it’s nothing, but Frankie knows she's hiding something. He’ll give her time to tell him. He doesn’t want to force the issues, to lose her now that he’s finally happy and has the life he’s wanted for the last four years. 

While he’s explaining to Will what’s going on, Morales’ eyes are darting around concerned that he’s paranoid and maybe he’s trying to ruin a stabilizing force in his life. Will tells him he’s not crazy and to just try talking to her again.

It’s when Frankie goes home with a bit of a little buzz and his mind spinning that he sees Belinda sitting on the sofa waiting for him.

”Francisco. We need to talk.”

The ones who are lost in those chocolate orbs 👀:

@yorksgirl @megamindsecretlair @guelyury @soft-persephone @legendary-pink-dot

@bitchwitch1981 @katw474 @rosecentury @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@trulybetty @maggiemayhemnj @schnarfer @rav3n-pascal22 @bishtrouille

@alltheotps @pedroshotwifey

#pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #frankie Morales x ofc #nerdie fic

[nerdieforpedro]

I enjoyed this between Javi's mouth and well his everything else, it was wonderful. ❤️

The Sweepstakes: Javi Gutierrez (Porn Star AU)

Series: The Sweepstakes

Pairing: Porn star Javi Gutierrez x Female Reader

Summary: It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now you’re not sure you’re brave enough to claim your sweepstakes prize.

Word count: ~3.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: reader is a full-figured gal, vague body descriptions, body insecurity, some ass smacks, ass worship, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV (there is paperwork)

A/N: Huge thank you to @burntheedges for all her help with this!  Javi is a new character for me as is some of the subject matter I’m writing about.  I hope I’ve done both justice!  Spanish translations are at the end, but everything should be able to be understood in line with context.  I hope you enjoy!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – link in bio or ask me to add you!

“There’s a kitchen to the left and a bathroom here,” Erin opens a door to show you a spacious full bath.  “The production room is at the end of this hall, which is where I will be if you need anything.”

You nod along and follow her down the hall.

“And of course, here is the room where you’ll be doing your scene!” She opens the double doors with a flourish.

It’s so… bright in there.  Is it always that bright?

You look around the large bedroom.  A bedroom you are very familiar with, as it is where your favorite porn production company films many of their videos.

You wrap your arms around your torso, feeling exposed even though you’re still fully clothed.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You entered a sweepstakes you never expected to win.  You saw the ad after a particularly satisfying session with your vibrator.  It said, “Enter to win a night with your favorite performer!”

Your favorite performer had just given you a fantastic orgasm.  In your dopamine haze it seemed like the best idea you’d ever had.  You’ve never had an orgasm with a partner, but he gets you there every time.  Could he do it in person?

The “he” in question was none other than Javi Gutierrez.  The friendliest porn star there ever was.  Sunshine incarnate. You wondered and then you clicked submit.

Now, seeing the room in person, faced with the reality of the large bed and sunlight filtering through the curtains… your brilliant idea doesn’t seem so brilliant anymore.

Erin leads you into the room and continues, “Since you’ve opted not to be filmed, we have removed all the cameras except one.”  She gestures towards a tripod in the corner.  “The lens cap is on though, it’s just for sound.  We will be monitoring the feed just to be sure everyone is safe.”

“I… I don’t know… if I can do this,” you choke out, your breaths coming faster and faster as panic builds in your chest.

“Hey, it’s ok.”  Erin places her hands on your shoulders and captures your darting gaze.  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.  If you just want to meet Javi and call it a night, that is completely fine.  He really is the sweetest.” She smiles at you, and you let out a long exhale, allowing your shoulders to relax slightly.

“He won’t be upset?”

“Upset? No. Our performers are all very aware of how intimidating this is and would never judge anyone for backing out, Javi especially.  I know he is excited to meet you, though.”

“Me? Why?”  That’s just ridiculous.  One of the most beautiful men in existence is excited to meet jiggly, squishy you?

“He’s excited to meet everyone, all the time, but we did show him your photo and tell him a little about you from your paperwork.  I believe his exact word was deliciosa.”  She winks.

Delicious? What? Javi is always so complimentary to his scene partners, telling them how beautiful they are and how good they feel, but none of his scene partners look like you.

“What do you think? Want to meet him?” Erin asks you gently.

You nod.  “Yeah, I guess.”  If Javi is who you think he is, then he will at least be friendly and kind.

“I’ll send him in in a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable and remember, we are here for you, however you want this evening to go.”  She leaves the room, closing the doors behind her.

You face the bed, the space you’ve traveled to in your mind so many times now real in front of you.  You’ll just meet him, and it will be fine.  So what if you’ll never know what it’s really like to be with him.  So what if this once in a lifetime opportunity passes you by.

You hear the doors open behind you and quickly turn around only to be blinded by the gorgeousness that is Javi Gutierrez.

He’s wearing a white tank top that shows off his broad, muscular shoulders, lightly freckled from the sun, and loose linen pants that hang low on his hips, revealing a thin slice of tummy and happy trail.  His skin positively glows in the setting sun.  His hair falls softly in ringlets of brown and gold around his handsome face.

“Hello, I am Javi.” He introduces himself with a wide smile and open arms.  You allow him to gather you into his broad chest, too stunned that this is happening to even introduce yourself properly.  You mumble your name against him.

His scent fills your nostrils—citrus and the ocean breeze—and you breathe it in greedily.  Too soon he lets you go and steps back.  A look of deep concern fills his chocolate brown eyes as he considers you carefully.

“Erin said maybe you want to leave.” His deep voice is so gentle and soothing. “It is ok if you do, but I hope not.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “Say what? That I would be sad not to get to fuck you?”

“You don’t… really want to do… that with me. It’s ok.”  Your cheeks heat as you stutter your answer.

“Of course I want to, why would I not want to? You are so beautiful. Bonita.”

“No I’m not, you don’t want this,” you gesture towards yourself, your tummy, your ass.

“I do want this.  What is wrong with this?”  He looks genuinely confused.  “May I touch you, bonita?”

“I… I guess.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips then trails kisses up your arm.  You shiver as his mustache brushes against your sensitive skin.

“¡Que linda!  So beautiful and soft,” he murmurs as he gets to your shoulder, dropping your arm and placing his hands on your waist.  “Why would I not want more of you to fill up my hands?” He slides his hands around to your ass, bringing your fronts together.  You can feel his length hardening between you and your mouth falls open in surprise.  He squeezes your ass, “This. You. Are beautiful.  And I do want to fuck you.  Te deseo, bonita.”

He closes the distance between you to press a kiss on your mouth, currently open in shock.  He teases your lips and chin as his hands knead your ass, pulling you against him.  One hand travels up to palm your breast. He finds the hard point of your nipple and you gasp as he pinches it.

“Do you not want the cameras because you do not think you are beautiful, bonita?” he whispers against your skin as he drags his angular nose along your jawline.

You nod as you whimper.  The idea of watching yourself like that… it makes your insides churn.  You just knew when you saw the question in the paperwork that you would never want to watch it, so why record it?

He pulls back and holds your gaze intently.  “It is your choice, por supuesto.  But I hope I can make you feel beautiful tonight.  With me. Will you stay?”

His smoldering gaze is hypnotic and you find yourself replying, “Yes, I’ll stay.”

“Bueno, this makes me very happy.”  The smile that lights up his face confirms his words.

You find yourself smiling back, your insecurities taking a backseat to the fizzy excitement now bubbling through your veins.  His joyful presence is contagious.

Javi returns to your mouth, no longer in teasing nips, but with intent as he draws you into a deep kiss.  His tongue slides against yours with languid, knee-weakening strokes.  He leads you backwards until you feel the bed against the backs of your legs and directs you to sit.  With your head tilted back, he continues to explore your mouth, standing between your legs, his large hands cradling your face.

He steps back and pulls his tank top over his head.  He moves to return to your kiss, but you stop him with your hands on his chest.  You have to see him, touch him, this beautiful man you’ve fantasized about so many times.

“You’re gorgeous, Javi,” you whisper reverently as you drag your palms down his golden chest, delighting when his nipples pebble under your fingers.

“Gracias, bonita,” he chuckles softly.  His fingers trace your jaw and the shell of your ear as you explore his body.  “Undo the tie,” he murmurs as your fingers trace the edge of his trousers.  You can already see the shape of him through the thin material, straining to be released.

You bite your lip and Javi groans, “Fuck. Those lips, ay, son deliciosos.”

Carefully, you tug at the drawstring knot, it gives way, and his pants slide down his beautiful legs, revealing the full glory of his nakedness to you.  His cock bobs in front of you and your mouth waters at the site.  You shift, squeezing your legs together at the ache building at your center.

His glorious length, hard… for you.  It boggles your mind.

“It’s so sexy, you looking at me like that,” Javi growls.  “I can’t wait to fuck you with this cock.”  He strokes himself in front of you.  He’s so thick it sends shivers up your spine.

You look up at him and lick your lips.  “Can I taste you, Javi?” The boldness of the request surprises you even as the words escape your mouth.  You’ve become brave so quickly in the presence of Javi’s obvious desire.

“Absolutamente.  Whatever you want.  I am here for you.”  He smiles down at you as he stands in front of you next to the bed.

You take him in your hand and stroke lightly from root to tip, then bend over to retrace your path with your tongue.  Javi’s approval rumbles in his chest as you lick and taste your way along him, ending with a swirl of your tongue over the head of his gorgeous cock.  Grasping him firmly in one hand you draw him between your lips.

Javi caresses your neck and cheek as you pump him into your mouth.  You close your eyes and focus on remembering the salty taste of his skin on your tongue.  You never want to forget.

You lose yourself in the rhythmic action, stroking him with your hand in time with your mouth until your jaw aches.  You pull back to catch your breath only to have his mouth on yours again.

“Your turn, bonita,” he practically growls into your mouth.  “I need to taste you. Por favor. Lo necesito.”

You remove your clothes with his help. You want to look down, away from his face, so you don’t see his reaction to you, but you force yourself to meet his gaze.  What you see looking back at you is pure lust and desire.

Goosebumps rise over your skin at the intensity of it, your nipples pebble and your pussy throbs.

“So soft,” he whispers reverently, cupping your breasts.  He squeezes and moans before taking your nipple in his mouth.  He presses you back, so you’re laying on the bed.  Out of habit, your arms move to cover your body, to somehow make yourself smaller.

“Don’t hide from me, bonita.”  Javi gently takes your wrists and pins your hands out to the side.  “Let me see you. You are so beautiful. Quiero verte.”

Sincerity shines from his kind eyes.  You take deep breaths and relax.  You want to trust him.

He kisses your lips then travels down your neck, sucking at your pulse point and making you gasp.  He gathers your breasts in his large hands and nuzzles into them before taking each peak in his mouth.  He travels across your belly, licking and nibbling at your roundness, before grasping your thighs in his hands and licking a broad swipe up your slit.

You moan as his warm mouth envelopes your cunt and his tongue nudges at your sensitive bud.  “Delicioso,” he groans between licks.  He slips a finger inside you, and you instinctively roll your hips into him.

Him stroking you inside and out is divine, and you try to sink into the sensations and just enjoy, but a thought keeps worming its way back in.  Your mind won’t let it go, so you clear your throat, “Um Javi? I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, sweetheart? Are you ok?  Do you not like it?” he kisses the inside of your thigh, looking worried.

“No no, it feels so good, don’t stop.  I just…  I… fuck…” you lose focus, distracted as he resumes dragging his fingers in and out of your pussy, circling your clit with his thumb.

“I have read your papers, have you changed your mind about something?”

“No, it’s not that.  It’s just… I’ve never… come with a partner.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs into your skin, continuing to stroke you, “Do you come when you watch me?”

“Every time,” you moan as his fingers find a spot deep inside that makes your arch off the bed.

“Then we will see.  It is ok if you do not.”

“I want to.  With you.”  You do, so so badly.

It’s something you’ve thought about a lot.  It could be a matter of skill, but you can get yourself off alone just never with a partner.  You have a suspicion that how you feel about your body might be the reason.  None of your partners have ever said anything to make you feel badly, but you haven’t exactly let them appreciate you either, assuming that they wouldn’t.

You cover yourself, turn off the lights, only partially undress, in the hopes that a partner won’t notice what you look like.  As if they haven’t been looking at you in all the moments leading to the bedroom.

But Javi didn’t let you do that.  In this bright room, you bared yourself to him and he said you were deliciosa.  

“You have my word, I will try very hard,” he places his free hand over his heart, sealing his promise with a nod, making you giggle. “And we have things to help, if you need them.  It is ok. I will take care of you.”

“Thank you, Javi, oh…” you cut yourself off with a moan as Javi dives back into your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth and making your hips jerk.

You decide to believe him and work to clear your mind.  Your eyes drift close as you focus on the pleasure he is pulling out of you.  His warm tongue strokes wide and firm, circling your clit in determined strokes.  You let your body respond how it wants.  Your hips rock into him with each stroke of his tongue, seeking that perfect pressure.  It feels amazing.

But you don’t come.

Before you can get frustrated, Javi kisses his way back up to your tits and gathers them in his palms.  “Look at you in my hands,” he moans, mouthing at your soft flesh, swirling his tongue around each nipple.  You take the opportunity to run your fingers through his silky hair, twirling one curl and then another.

He groans in appreciation when you tug slightly.  The sound goes straight to your core.

He looks up at you with a wicked grin. “Roll over, bonita.”

He rolls you on to your stomach, kneeling across your outstretched legs.  He gently smacks your ass cheek, sending ripples through your body. You gasp and your pussy clenches around nothing. 

“Yesssss,” he hisses and he smacks you again.  “Look how you bounce for me.”

He takes handfuls of your ass cheeks and kneads and squeezes them together.  Suddenly you feel his cock slide through the cleft of your ass.  You try to twist to see him but can only get glimpses of him staring down at you, slack jawed and wrecked.

Your body is making him look like that.  It makes you feel powerful, and you wish you could watch him enjoy you.  For the first time, you regret not allowing the cameras.  

“Fuuuck,” Javi growls, sliding his cock between your ass cheeks.  You whimper and whine pinned underneath him.  “I could come like this, bonita, you feel so good.”  He lets your ass cheeks fall apart and smacks them again before gathering you back up around his cock.  “So juicy and plump.  Fucking amazing.”

You’re drenched with arousal and unable to relieve any of the pressure.

“Fuck me, Javi, please,” you beg.

“Sí, bonita, I will fuck you,” he growls.

Javi scoots back and rolls you over then wedges himself between your legs.

Taking his cock in hand he glides himself through your slippery folds, nudging at your clit with each stroke.  You whimper as he teases you until he notches himself at your entrance.

He eases himself into your channel.  He’s a lot to take and works his way in gently, watching your face for signs of discomfort.

You let out a guttural moan as he bottoms out in your cunt. “So good Javi, you’re so big.  Fuck, I’m so full.”  The stretch of him is glorious.

He pistons his hips slowly at first as you both savor the drag of him through your walls.  Gradually he speeds up until he’s slamming his hips into you.

Every thrust reverberates through your body.  Your breasts and tummy wobble, but you don’t try to stop them.

“Look how you bounce when I fuck you,” Javi groans, continuing his relentless pace, “ it’s so sexy.”  His fingers dig into your thighs as he presses you open.

“Yes Javi, more… yes… please.” You beg nonsensically as your orgasm begins to sparkle at the edges of your awareness.

“You need to be filled up, don’t you bonita?  You need to be stretched around this cock.  That’s it.  Fuck. You feel so good.”  He moves a hand in between your bodies to circle your clit and you cry out.

“I think I’m close, Javi,” you whine.  He circles your clit faster continuing to drag his thick cock in and out of you.

“Let go, bonita.  Let me see it.”

You tip over the edge, an edge you have never found with a partner before, but you’ve never felt so desired with a partner before and so free in your body.  Javi’s skill with his cock and mouth and fingers is unparalleled for sure, but what does it is the look in his eyes and his filthy words when he fucks you.

He has made it so clear that his arousal is not despite your body, but because of it.  And he made you believe it too.

“Bonita?”

“Mmmm?” you mumble as you come back into your body, the aftershocks of your orgasm spacing farther and farther apart.

Javi is next to you, holding the back of your hand up to his lips as he peppers it with kisses.

“I have a question.”

“What is it?” you crack one eye open.

“Can I go get Erin to set up some cameras? For the next one?” he asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

You bite your lip as a shy smile spreads across your face.  “Yeah, ok.”

“Deliciosa.” He smiles in return before bounding out of the bed towards the door, leaving you giggling on the bed.

You stretch out while you wait for him to return, feeling more at home in your body than you have in a long time. You wiggle your fingers and toes and smile to yourself. The next one is going to be fun.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Translations: Deliciosa/o/son deliciosos – delicious, they are delicious Bonita – beautiful Que linda – how beautiful/pretty Te deseo – I desire you Por supuesto – of course Bueno – good Gracias – thank you Absolutamente – absolutely Lo necesito – I need it Quero verta – I want to see you

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – in reblog

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #javi gutierrez x plus size reader #javi gutierrez #javier gutierrez x reader #nerdie fic rec

[nerdieforpedro]

THE MANDALORIAN Chapter 17: The Apostate

[nerdieforpedro]

This is beautiful 🥰🥰🥰

A handsome man starts coming to your pottery studio regularly. It isn’t long before you’re accepting Dieter’s invite for coffee— obviously to try out his freshly fired coffee mugs

#absolutely beautiful #omg omg omg #i love everything about this #ok hear me out he makes a little set in the hopes you'd come over for coffee and he wants them to match #all of his family and friends now start getting various pieces as gifts because he keeps going back to see you #dieter bravo imagine #wildemaven moodboard #another stunner of a moodboard #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[nerdieforpedro]

Wednesday WIP

Hello! 👋🏽 Nerdie here, I am working on a few things:

1. A second entry for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge (maybe featuring an agent I haven’t written for a bit). I had a burst of an idea which was different than the original one I had. Such is a Nerdie brain. Don't get lost in there, but there are cookies.

2. Finally progress of my “Wedding 101 with Dieter” fic! I had been having trouble with it. I’m happy to have more Maya, Dieter and Daisy. 🤭 I apologize to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine in advance for any undue stress I shall cause you.

3. Going to finish up my short Frankie body part series which sounds menacing but is the opposite. 😂 Very much so lol It’s called “Only Parts of you Mr. Morales.”

4. I’m working on a Javier Peña series because I feel like I need to give him something nice. Just one thing. 😆 It's very sweet, I have 2 chapters and no idea what to call it. Pfft, go figure. No idea how long it will be - sorry, won't be ready for a bit. Between Javier P and Joel recent. I need to be nice to them. They’re both very haunted. 😖

5. I'm still working on both Din fics and Benny. I'm redoing the outlines. Bullet points are friends and not our enemies. I think. Will there be more random Star Wars people? Is Obi Wan Kenobi a children’s author and Luke that old man who swings his lightsaber in the yard?! Both these things are true. 😌 Messing with Star Wars canon one character at a time. 😂😂😂 The sweet Din fic will remain so. My walking pile of nervous Beskar. 💚

And that's about it, I've cut back a bit on writing to do more school work (papers...ugh...writing about not Pedro. 👀 Eww...)

Previews under the cut:

Anyway, somehow, I went from being stuck in chapter five for 'Weddings 101 with Dieter' to now being in chapter six. I'd like to thank Hemmy for being so encouraging and @megamindsecretlair for discussing Pedro and Oscar with me the other night. I feel like I should make notes and keep both of those in mind for future fics because it's the right thing to do.🫡 Just thinking about it is… 🫠

This is a small excerpt from chapter six, we should all know Nerdie's humor by now 🤣:

“Who’s banging on my door this damn early?! You better get out of here!” “Dee at least ask who it is.” “I don’t care, it could be the president, pope or, no Beyonce could come in.” “I am not meeting Beyonce in my robe. My hair is a mess, my face is puffy, I haven’t showered yet…that’s not who it is!” “I mean, if she shows up on this door, she’s gonna have to be okay with my bare ass, balls and your robe with your cute puffy face. It’s just us. You don’t need one. I’m just going to take it back off to eat you for-” “MR. BRAVO IT’S ME ZACK! YOUR ASSISTANT!” He screamed, he didn’t need to hear Dieter removing anything off of Maya or eating her in any capacity, they can do that after he leaves later. Never any filter with this damn man, he just needs to remind himself of his loans. This job pays the loans.

Gotta love how....open Dieter is with everything. Even Sasha Fierce is not safe. 😭

Second is from my pending Javier Peña fic (I'll think of a good name, I swear!):

Meeting his gaze had her mouth run dry, the sandy tone to his skin contrasted with more papaya tones in his neck. Dark hair and kind eyes behind a gold pair of aviators perched on his curved nose. Tourmaline waves parted on the left side of his crown were matched by his bold eyebrows and thick mustache. His lips were a lace pink and plush. The sunlight made the sweat along his neck glimmer, accentuating its definition. The light blue shirt made the reds and browns in his skin stand out even more. “Did you need to get some fresh air too?” She asked, he could be doing that, escaping someone like she was doing or something else entirely. Now she was curious too, about this man who’d chosen to sit next to her.

I very much enjoy my description of Javier, hehe 😉

That's it! Normally I have more, but it's either still in bullet form or in my head. 🤭

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @604to647 @connectioneverywhere @morallyinept @rhoorl

@goodwithcheese @soft-persephone @djarinmuse @pedroshotwifey @magpiepills

@secretelephanttattoo @tinytinymenace @inept-the-magnificent @soft-girl-musings @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@laurfilijames @grogusmum @alltheglitterandtheroar @jessthebaker @musings-of-a-rose

@julesonrecord @wannab-urs @schnarfer

#wip wednesday #Nerdie update #javier pena fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #benny miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfiction

[nerdieforpedro]

The gif of his back though 😫 Ahh!

It’s a rather unique pain where you’re so close but there’s still a barrier to what you want and you’re the only one who wants it.

Thanks for reading. ☺️

Angel in Disguise

Javier Peña x plus size female reader

This fic and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: a little over 1k

Summary: It's raining and it reminds you of your recent interactions with your best friend Javier Peña.

Warnings: unrequited love, angst, one person you work for should not drive, slight self-esteem issues?, possessiveness

Notes: I haven't posted anything for Javier Peña for a long time. I'm glad I was able to write something. This is one of two for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Peña Masterlist/ Writing Challenges Masterlist

Leaning against your desk, you’re looking out at another rainy day. Thankful that you keep a pair of rain boots in your office and at home. You’re thinking of last month and last week, how you’ve lied to Javier and yourself. It’s for the best though. 

Large drops remain on the window as the sound of the water falling intensifies. Last month you had finally worked up the, well with a shot or two of liquid courage to tell him. Tell Javier Peña that “yeah, we’re friends Javi but I want more from you. Have wanted more from you. I could make you happy, because I know you. We know each other. I can give you something simple, a life together.” One of your favorite dresses, your deep violet one that had the open shoulders you liked. Pretty and not too sexy you felt, just right.

Nothing was right that night. He walked in with a woman you were pretty sure was at least ten years younger than him or maybe she had excellent skincare and always used sunscreen. His hand looked perfect on her waist and so did hers on his. He introduced her to you as his girlfriend of the last six months. You’d heard him mention someone but didn’t think it was the same person. Was she the one that had large mood swings? Javier would never admit it but you know he craves a bit of drama. Something you rarely have any of. Dinner was nice at the bar. She seemed nice. Neither of them stopped smiling nearly the entire night. 

The only silver lining is that you live on a lower floor than Javier so you don’t hear that. You’d go insane if you heard them doing that. You’ve heard the rumors and have gotten the sense (though given your feelings you could be biased. Highly doubtful,) that most of them are true.

That night you went home by yourself, threw off your dress and flopped across the bed. You weren’t sure if the rain came down first or your tears but you do know that you cried yourself to sleep and woke up cold. 

That was last month. Now they’ve been together for seven months.

This week at work you were legitimately busy given that the ambassador you work for has decided to drive drunk and hit a lamppost, damn idiot. Of course he wants to use his diplomatic immunity and the policia would like to make an example out of him. Negotiations are led by you as you represent the embassy. Javier was able to catch you one day, say hello, how are you and ask what you thought of Camilla. Her name is even pretty, like her. She was polite and complimented your dress that night. Nothing bad to say about the woman except she exists or is doing so next to Javi.

You lied right to your friend’s face and told him that you like her, she seemed very sweet, that you three should go out for drinks and that she’s beautiful. The last one wasn’t a lie, she was stunning. The rest of it you’re still unsure how you made it all drop from your mouth so easily. His eyes light up and Javier says something that is as honeyed as it is a stab, “I’m glad you like her. I was worried you might not and then I’d have to wonder if she’s really right for me. You’re the best ángel.” You think you smiled and gave him a hug before going back to dealing with the ambassador issue. It’s a blur. Getting back to your office and stopping yourself from yelling took priority over before getting back on the phone about this drunkard’s problem which is yours.

Finally into the next week, you’ve settled the dispute between the policia and the ambassador. He’s required to pay for the damage and a substantial amount of money to the city of Bogata with a suitable donation to the policía as well. You should have left a few hours ago, but then you might have run into Javier on your way out. You need to steady yourself before seeing him. ‘Just act like I did two months ago. It will be fine.’ That’s what you tell yourself but you know your body will betray you when you see him. You feel the melancholy and longing again. 

The gray skies match your mood. Subdued. Drippy. Unsettled. Foreboding. Closing your eyes, you feel them fall against your cheek again, the tears rolling down. Twisting your body to reach for the tissue box you now keep on your desk, you pat your eyes to see Javier Peña in the middle of your office.

“Hey amiga, qué paso? (friend, what’s up?) You’re crying.” It’s kind that he asks, Javier is always kind. Before you can tell him you’re fine, he’s got an arm around you and kisses your forehead. “What’s wrong?” You won’t tell him why, he’s happy and you know he deserves it. Given the small pieces of how he came to be at the embassy. Broad strokes and rumors are what you know. Javier doesn’t talk about his time in Columbia or pursuing the Cali cartel. When it’s mentioned his face hardens, letting people know to change the subject.

“Just a tough day today, that's all Javi. Thanks.” Your head leans against his chest, breathing in his scent. Keeping your hands around the tissue you’d been dabbing your eyes with. A thought you immediately regret enters your mind:

Could she be an angel in disguise and leave him broken on a rainy day such as this? Maybe Javier would be standing out in the rain? Could you take him against your chest like he’s doing with you now?

No. It wouldn’t be the same. Javier is being a sincere friend to you right now. You would have an ulterior motive. 

A few more tears fall across your cheeks as a gust of wind blows the rain loudly against your window. Even the sky is scolding you:

Leave that man be, you’re the angel in disguise. 

Peeps who want a hug from Javier 😭:

@guelyury @yorksgirl @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @javierpena-inatacvest

@theywhowriteandknowthings @goodwithcheese @maggiemayhemnj @readingiskeepingmegoing @bitchwitch1981

@harriedandharassed @bishtrouille @schnarfer @katw474 @megamindsecretlair

@tinytinymenace @magpiepills @pedroshotwifey

#awesome moot #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #fanfiction #undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #javier pena fanfiction