#pedro pascal actor fanfiction

[fandomdaydreamer]

The Lighthouse and The Ocean

Pt 25 - Tragically Longing

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC

Warnings: angst, valium consumption

Summary: Pedro's and Nini's break up takes a heavy toll on her until she receives an unexpected visitor on Christmas Eve.

Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist and Playlist -here-

Sorry for the wait, life's been sooo busy Q_Q

Length: 8k

~

The Tweet had followed a couple of days after our break up.

Pedro Pascal he/him;

I am disgusted by my so called "caring fans" who send @ninivanfleet hate or threaten her! Please be sensitive, for this is painful enough.

What a noble way of finally publicly admitting that we weren't together anymore.

Of course, words of our break up had gotten out, right along with rumours of one heartbroken Pedro Pascal moping about in forced society.

Truth be told, I didn't even blame him for the severe backlash I received because if he even felt half as miserable as I, he would have broken down and cried every time anyone on the job had come up to ask if he was okay. But guess who was the bad guy? The one having pictures of him running through the streets of Brooklyn with a bouquet of flowers or the one who had released an aloof rock song that was addressing her ex?

The unmistakable sound of eggs cracking against my door and my security yelling at the perpetrators rang through the living room. So let them, I thought and dug deeply into my ice-cream. It reminded me about the fact that this was entirely my fault.

At one point in my life, I must have forgotten what real hurt felt like. It was the incomparable sensation of keep hanging on, full of heartache and anger and still, endlessly in love. None of it made sense, the suddenty of our break up, the excruciating pain and tragical longing. No amount of screaming or crying would ever help.

I wasn't in touch with life itself anymore for the time I hadn't seen the light of day. I had come to merely endure it while Nine Inch Nails blared through the house.

Everything I know goes away in the end

I kept eating my chocolate brownie Ben and Jerry's, slowly spiralling into the song's heavy music as I sprinkled my desert with two valium and fed myself a spoon full of misery.

I will let you down, I will make you hurt

New tears spilt down my cheeks when I looked back ahead. As often these last couple of days, I remembered the things Pedro and I had said to each other. Hurtful things that had torn away the ground beneath my feet, things I'd never expected to come from him. Not him.

How badly I just wanted to beg him to come back.

Alas, the harsh bangs of whatever rotten stuff hitting my door and office windows were not easily mistaken for a visitor. Still placing full spoons of soft ice cream into my mouth, I was tempted to throw the pint down the hall and at my door.

"Fuck off!" I yelled against the music instead and scared the cat to flee upstairs again, poor thing.

Too many days and worried friends later, there were still no messages or calls from Pedro, even after I had given in and tried calling him. I only reached voice mail and broke connection before the beep. No visit or tearful reunion would ever happen or even a fantasy of me heartlessly turning him out again after he begged me to take him back. No, it seemed he was determined to keep his word. He stayed away and I stayed stagnant, lying here for hours or for weeks.

Until the contracted interviews spent hidden behind dark sunglasses, with constant supervision and fake smiles. There wasn't really a night show to appear on or stage lights to feel exposed in or a hyped up audience who listened to the fruits of my love and heartbreak. There was only the possibility that all of this was just a bad dream and I had taken enough pills not to notice.

The audience roared. Mere moments later I blinked and suddenly I was backstage again, ripping the wires off my body. They were still cheering for Pedro's song when I walked through the exit and wiped away my tears.

Fingers prodded at my cheek and neck. The hand on my shoulder felt invasive, my skin was cold an numb. "Oh, no, darling. Not again." A dull, faraway voice rang past my veil of vengeful bitter thoughts and sweet valium hazed memories. The people's silhouettes looked like my friends, but my vision refused to focus for a few seconds. "Nnno, leave me." I mumbled tiredly and almost went back to sleep to ignore Hugh tutting about and sorting through my mess while Olivia went to flush my pills down the toilet. "Don' tell Tom." I only managed to say, fearing my best friend would leave me too if he knew I had broken my promise to never rely on tranquilizers again.

Sammi had been the one examining my pitiful, drugged condition. "It's alright, come here. Hang on, baby, hand on-" Strong arms picked me up and next thing I knew, I was put into bed, dozing in and out of consciousness in the ambiguous light of the Venetian blinds.

I just wanted to sleep and have dreams. Dreams of a wide ocean and warm brown eyes and an even warmer laugh. His picture on my nightstand, his clothes on my chair, and me in my bed without the warmth of my life.

"Promise me to keep an eye on her?" Olivia's voice. "Of course." Sammi sighed from somewhere at the foot of my bed as he tucked in my feet.

His sweet but muted, incoherent voice telling me that I'd be alright again only made me cry into my donkey stuffie.

Yet here I lay for another week, worn out and unwilling, barely even present, wondering if I'd ever rest in peace.

On Christmas Eve I finally promised myself to start healing and accept Hugh and Sammi's help. I sent the security home to their families and visited my neighbours and pump some life into me with a rich variety of food and some of Sammi's famous umm-ali pudding. Somehow they even succeeded in making me smile again with their uplifting trash-talk and sweet Doo-Wop atmosphere.

It meant much to me but nevertheless, I had called it an early night and dropped onto my side of the wall. After a lengthy call with my grandparents, I decided I would take the next flight to London tomorrow morning. It was the first day I met with hope. Hope that I could disappear for a while and take some time off.

My own song played in the kitchen when I came home to my cat and I shut the radio with a sigh. 'The Lighthouse And The Ocean' was hitting the top ten charts. Not that Pedro cared. "I wonder what became of the original record I sent him." I muttered, more to myself than my cat. "Maybe he threw it in the dust bin or melted it. Maybe he made the disc a frisbee and it's lying a ditch somewhere. Stupid, he could have least sold it on eBay." I tutted.

Poentje grumbled, otherwise, everything remained quiet. My brain wasn't muddled with medication anymore. It had begun to snow outside and though I was tired, a softness I hadn't allowed to resurface before made me yearn for comfort instead of self-destruction. Sometimes, it was just you and some leftover Manakeesh against the world. This was good. Maybe I'd even touch my guitar again.

My voice had grown only weary these days. "Zuur pruim," I pouted at my cat when she turned her nose at my affections. I was in desperate need of a cuddle but she was having one of her stubborn episodes, most likely the aftermath of the rock music abuse. "We got you a ragdoll, they said, ragdolls always want to cuddle, they said," I complained, chewing and faking my insult.

A sad smile grew on my lips when I got an idea and abandoned my greasy food. "Just wait, I know exactly what you like." I left my living room, hurried up the stairs and into my closet to open a drawer and pull out the softest jumper I 'didn't' own, the grey cashmere one that belonged to Ewan and my cat adored even more than me.

Replacing it with my current piece of clothing, it dawned on me that I had a stereotypical habit of never returning my ex's clothes. But when I pulled it over my head, I immediately basked in its softness and regretted nothing.

Downstairs, Poentje's yellow orbs lit up when I emerged with one raised brow, presenting Ewan's very long-sleeved jumper like I wore it for a fashion show. "Like what you see?" I asked her and mirrored her arrogance from earlier when I strutted past her towards my sofa. My back had barely hit the cushions when my little purring machine had already climbed onto my belly and started kneading dough. "Aha," I said in triumph but my initial victorious feeling was replaced by utter sadness. I was comforted by someone who loved me no matter what.

The heartbreaking realisation that I was apart from the one person I needed it from most struck something devastating inside me and my eyes welled up with tears again. It resulted in my cat chucking up and down with the sobs I produced. Yet Poentje purred loudly and stepped onto my chest, kneading my boobs and staring at me through soothing cat eyes. I cradled her soft body and she let me squish her against my chest. "I miss him so much." I cried miserably to her but the feeling only intensified as soon as I had admitted it. My cries poured into the room until my cat got uncomfortable and bolted at the hysteria.

She looked up at me expectantly, licking her lips. I sighed. It was either taking care of her or passing out in tears again. "Why are you hungry all the time these days?" I quizzed her uselessly. "Chicken soup, how's that sound?" Poentje meowed with a high voice I knew was her agreeing statement. I sniffed and walked over towards the kitchen. Maybe I could make do with a distraction. Maybe I had some stuff I could use to make biscuits from scratch.

The little song I sang her sounded nasal and pitiful. Poentje received her dinner while I collected the ingredients for granny's famous gingerbread men and I selected a soul playlist. Every song would make me cry but I could try my best.

Hey, this was good. I could do this. I could move on. Eventually. After a while, my apron was over and over scattered with flour and bits and pieces of dough. I had made a mess out of my kitchen during my manic baking episode but it blended in perfectly with the mess around my entire living space.

Soul music continued ringing familiar tunes over towards my spacious kitchen area. Keeping myself busy was helping and made me feel less alone. Although Poentje didn't like gingerbread and I didn't know if she could even appreciate Otis Redding.

The night continued while my thoughts drifted into a fantasy realm of the potential happiness that had slipped through my fingers. If only Pedro would call back. If only he'd show up on my doorstep and let me hug him close. How often had I thought we'd finally found the one? It had been so easy to tell ourselves we were already married and were meant to be a real family one day.

I sobbed at my already tear-infused dough, wiping my eyes with a sleeve until they felt raw and puffy and then I cried some more.

Pedro deserved the world and now I knew I wouldn't be in it. He was also a huge arsehole and I imagined his stupid face in my dough as hit it with the rolling pin. "You said you'd never leave me!" Bang bang bang! Poentje jumped off the bar. All those broken promises. Lies. "Motherfucker!"

'Slip Away' started playing and I lay the pin down gently again and rolled it out evenly, cutting out my gingerbread men and painting second tray of them in butter.

I sniffed into my elbow and caught one last tear before I refused to start crying about the painfully obvious, mainly why I kept ending up alone. I had managed to fuck up every single relationship of my life but I was determined to never love again. I've had it.

The first tray of of gingerbread biscuits was waiting to cool off and I hadn't even gotten rid of my apron yet when the doorbell rang.

"Pedro?" My head shot up in hope. Maybe it was him. Whoever it was, they had to have had the code to my gate. I ran to the door and ripped it open.

Specks of snow had settled onto his coat and beanie and the warm light from the inside of my house illuminated a face I had so dearly missed and yet had dreaded to ever see again. The cold night air hit my body and still, I could have sworn the sensation of feeling solidly frozen came from being caught in his eyes.

My lack of energy didn't make me sound as surprised as I really was. "Ewan." I gasped, having never expected 'him' to show up.

Nonetheless, Ewan smiled as if the sun was radiating from inside of him. That cheeky, toothy grin of his, the kind of smile that made you think he'd invented it. "Happy Christmas, Nini. I- umm... I wasn't sure you'd be home." He said, slightly breathless.

"Hap- Happy... Christmas. What are you doing here?" I stammered, still looking down at him from the top of my stairs. It was only then that I noticed the beautifully wrapped present in his hands.

"I came to give you this." Ewan held out the present and I gingerly took it while carefully avoiding to let our hands touch.

"All the way from LA?" I replied, feeling as puzzled as ever when I looked back into his blue eyes. This was overwhelmingly awkward but he was not an unwelcome guest. "Would you like to come in?" I asked anyway, sounding a little nasal. "I wouldn't want you to freeze to death and I made gingerbread."

A somewhat strange expression appeared on his face for only a split of a second. Almost as if hurt and sorrow mingled with his surprise at my simple offer of hospitality. "I would love to." He gulped out.

I stepped aside to let him pass into the house and close the door behind him. "What was that smell?" He asked curiously. Ewan shivered out the cold clinging to his limbs. Like old friends, we greeted each other with friendly kisses on our cheeks and I smiled when he remembered the Dutch kissed each other three times.

"Rotten eggs people tend to throw these days." I excused the faint odour lingering on my porch, even after the regular cleaning service one of my friends had organised. "But it keeps the bugs away." I sarcasmed as Ewan began shrugging off his winter clothes. His hair had become somewhat floppy in the front and he ran a hand through his thick stubble. The navy blue jumper suited him. Putting his coat on the hanger to dry, he moved so naturally like he'd just done this yesterday and in a way, it was hard to imagine that he ever went away.

"Oh, yes. Christmas bugs." Ewan grinned broadly and at least made it sound like this made total sense.

My smile grew tired.

"I see you were busy. I hope I'm not intruding." Ewan noticed and I shed the kitchen gear in an awkwardly flustered way.

"No, well... at least you're not Carol singers." I joked dryly. I was still holding my oven miffs and looked down to see the mess on my apron, wishing I had put more effort into presenting myself at the door. Oh fuck, I was wearing his jumper.

"I can still sing you a Carol." Ewan promptly began teasing me in his good natured way and before I could protest, he began singing, softly and wonderfully. "In the bleak midwinter, Long, long ago-"

Grinning, I could hardly hold his gaze and I rolled my eyes about at the blush creeping up my cheeks. When he managed to catch my eyes again, he sang into my face. "Angels and Arc Angels may have travelled there." Finally, I gave in, harmonising with his tune until my voice cracked and my eyes began to sting with fresh tears.

Ewan's expression turned tender and worried. "You've been crying." Ewan noticed and I bit my lip to hold back a sob.

I nodded but refused to cry in front of him. "Pedro and I broke up," I explained the obvious and he cooed at me, rubbing my arms in a comforting way. "Yes, I... I heard. What an idiot." He remarked and I shook my head.

I somehow put up a too-brave femme fatale act to amuse us both. "It's probably okay. I live for raw emotions. Yes, I already made up my mind." I shrugged and threw my hands up. "Become a sad and possibly problematic rock star. Sex, drugs and rock'n roll. Live fast, die young, become a legend. Forever beautiful and tragic." I predicted and believed that my new year's resolutions consisted of becoming the most disastrous version of myself.

"Oh, you always were dramatic," Ewan replied with a tut, leaning in with a warm smile until I scoffed at him in a rather fond sort of grumble. "I wish I could say it'll get easier." He added.

"Life?" I asked, bitterly and let him walk me into my house while I turned my present in my hands, stopping myself from showing too much of my inner turmoil. Maybe he had come here just to go down memory lane and give me a hard time.

"Or love." Ewan laughed or maybe, just guessed. "If it's any comfort to you, I was kicked out too." He said with a sudden weariness in his voice and I frowned, turning back to him.

"Shit- the wedding?" "Paid for." "Damn." "Yeah."

"I'm so sorry. How could I feel comforted at that?" Hugging him was an impulsive reaction but it was nice and he pulled me closer with a sigh. "Yeah, me too. Shite holidays for the both of us."

"It's really good to see you though," I admitted back at arm length. Despite everything, his presence was comfort, he felt like family, like history. An old friend I didn't know I needed.

A fuzzy dark head poked out of the cat tree and began to cuddle against the fluffy little nook as soon as she saw Ewan walk in. "Oh, look who it is! Hello, Poen." He petted my cat's head and I was surprised at how loud her half purr, half meow had been. "I think she missed you." I wondered and watched her jump down towards him to practically slam herself against his leg and let him pet her. Honestly, where was the sisterhood solidarity? I crossed my arms and scolded her with a silent glare.

Poentje blinked at me and strode off to possibly find another napping spot and knock herself out on my bed upstairs.

"Tea?" I offered, finally remembering what a good host was supposed to behave like. "Yes, please," Ewan quickly replied. Walking into the kitchen area while unfastening my apron, I was only half aware that he slowly followed behind.

"It smells fantastic," Ewan noticed as I busied myself with the kettle and the selection of the tea brand I knew he liked best.

"You know my gran's recipe but oh, better don't eat any, I think I cried on most of them." I cringed at the plate of perfectly fine-looking gingerbread men.

"Should I reconsider then? Oh, wait not a chance." He looked like a child on literally Christmas Eve when he took a shaped biscuit and settled on the stool behind the kitchen counter.

I awaited his reaction as he sank his teeth into the man, biting his arm off and his eyes lit up in delight. "How are they even better than I remember?" He asked, watching me select a gingerbread man myself and chew on his head.

"I added orange zest this time. Some extra heartbreak too. Makes it oh, so sweet." My words had taken a sharp edge.

"Delicious." "Oi." I snickered with him while he profusely apologised for the really bad joke.

When the kettle was done boiling I let the tea brew in silence as if the task of dipping the bags into hot water required my fullest attention. But when it was time to add the milk, I had no excuse left to not face him again. Setting his mug in front of him, we finally took an honest look at each other and I could see he was tired and troubled. A guarded conflict stirred behind those eyes I'd sung songs about.

"Thanks." His expression was strange. He had obviously noticed that I was wearing his jumper and I sighed, not even caring about what he thought of it.

"Ewan?" I asked carefully and although he didn't answer, he was listening. "Don't get me wrong but I know when you're acting, I mean.. hiding something. You don't have to. Not with me."

It was only then that I was met with an expression which slowly betrayed a hidden sadness. Ewan took his time before he could muster a reply and I didn't push.

"You always see right through me, don't you?" he circled his mug and made little waves ripple through the milky liquid. The memory our past relationship was implied and it bothered me that he was sitting here, reviving my hurt and crumbling down my progress. It felt like bitter-sweet torture.

"Were you only just delivering a present? What are you really doing here?" I asked, poking the box with my index finger.

He looked up from his tea. "I know you just got back from a job and just broke up with someone and I will leave if you need a little peace and quiet but... My daughters are with their mum over the holidays and I.. well, I guess I wanted to see a friendly face. Thought we might both be happy with some company." After a pause to let his explanation sink in, I gave him a compassionate smile and nearly touched his hand to show him he was not alone, retreating last second. I couldn't help but feel bad I had not wasted a thought about how he might have been all this time. Turned out we were both a bit lonely while everyone else was with their families. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said, abandoning the gingerbread and cupping my mug for warmth.

"Don't be," Ewan replied softly, lifting one corner of his lips.

Secretly, I was pleased that we had gotten to a point in our post-relationship friendship where we could turn towards each other if we were two sad, abandoned singles who felt like retreating into mutual understanding. We didn't need to explain ourselves to each other, we never had to. Of course, I would be there for him if he needed me, even if it meant that I could only offer my sympathies when he had broken up with someone as well. That must have been cruel for both of them. After all, they had been planning to get married. Pedro and I had only lasted one month.

"Shall I open it?" I suggested as a change of topic, sounding a bit more cheerful as I pulled at the silver satin ribbon and raised one eyebrow. "What is it?" He chuckled and instead of giving into my inquiry, his eyes twinkled and he took a quiet sip of tea.

It was a flat box with a lid and when I had removed that too, I was met with the sparkling reflection of dainty, silver hair combs in the shape and texture of crystal daisy flowers. My breath had become a little shallow as I took in their magnificence. "Ewan, they're beautiful." I raised one of the combs from the box and noticed that it was heavier than I had thought.

I began fumbling with my messy braid and tidy it up a bit but Ewan was quick to assist. "Allow me?" He offered and I nodded. I turned my back to him while he rounded the bar and approached me from behind. Silently, I let him arrange my hair and for the first time during a very long and carefully kept distance, his fingers were touching the skin on the side of my neck. Practised fingers from years of doing his daughters' hair gathered my braid into a knot until I felt Ewan sink the combs into my hair and hold it in place.

His melodic voice behind me grew quiet, for he was right behind my ear. "I don't know what's normally the custom for what to gift one's former girlfriend but even if it's not pretty jewellery, it reminded me of you and I thought you needed to have it." I hadn't realised I had been holding my breath until I turned back to him and let him twirl my curtain fringe to shape them around my face. I was smiling before even looking up and seeing him standing right in front of me.

"Thank you," I whispered, smiling despite my slight discomfort. He was close. Way too close. I had genuine friendly platonic feelings for him and wished he wouldn't ruin it. Holding his gaze, I frowned at this suspicious behaviour. What were we doing?

Ewan took a breath as if he wanted to say something and he chose not to take my hands into his, even though I saw he would have wanted to. Instead, he took a step back and put his hands into his trouser pockets.

It was almost like shame struck him then. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." He nearly turned away, grinning shyly.

Finally, our mutual awkwardness relieved some of my tension. "It's okay. We're both in a vulnerable state." I accepted it and tried a step towards healing. "What happened?"

Ewan struggled to tell me but eventually, he admitted. "I heard your songs. Well, and so did my fiancée." He said, his grumpiness then changing into tenderness. "They're beautiful and I- I didn't know you had this in you- and then I got a bit too defensive about them I guess. About you."

I was torn between guilt and compassion. "Ewan, I'm so sorry. Shit, I keep ruining everything, I-" I cried but Ewan interrupted, gathering my hands in his.

"No, no, you're soaring, darling girl. Don't ever apologise. I just- I know I hurt you. You said, in your songs, how much you miss me and I couldn't bare the thought of... taking the light inside of you and it..." He shook his head. "It killed me."

My hand came to rest on his reddish bearded cheek. "You didn't take anything," But assuring him of this seemed to make him even sadder. I stopped smiling, realising the touch was too familiar.

"Here you are, treating me with kindness when we both know I didn't deserve it." He replied, taking my hand from resting on the side of his face to hold it. "When I rang your doorbell, I didn't know what to expect. Maybe that you would turn me away and slam the door but-" his voice cracked. "-you invited me in for... gingerbread." The waterlines in Ewan's eyes were shimmering when he finally looked up again. He had laughed out those last pair of words and the raw emotion in his voice had caused a tear to run down my cheek.

Ewan saw it before I had a chance to wipe it away. "I'm sorry." He told me. "I seem to keep doing that."

My voice sounded strange to my ears. "Yes, you are." A moment, in which we both didn't know what to say passed through us.

This was the difference between Ewan and Pedro. Ewan made me feel small and delicate in a way I couldn't imagine being anything but perfect and sensitive for him in every way. With Pedro, I had allowed my faults to surface unfiltered because I knew he accepted me with all of my layers, and let me be vulnerable the way I needed to be. I used to cut parts of myself off in a destructive manner to fit into the person I was before but that wasn't possible anymore because I found that nothing was like it used to be

I chuckled. "What happened to the good old, 'I miss you' text from your ex?" I guessed.

Ewan joined in with my restrained laugh. For a moment, it seemed like bitterness and regret had struck him. He took a moment to gather his courage. "He does... miss you." "Ewan-" "More than you think." I didn't know what to say but he beat me to it anyway. He gulped heavily. "You're right. I'm not... I'm not over you."

"No." I frowned, not believing him and looked down at our hands to pull mine back and hug myself. "You might miss me more than you remember me." I turned away when his presence started to hurt again. It was true, I had just taken it as a fact that I had closed this chapter of my life. Why was he telling me this?

Our eyes met, mine hazy, his begging me to listen. "I miss your laugh, your jokes... your kindness. The way you sing when you're busy or the creative, yet absolute mess you leave behind in every room." We looked at the kitchen and both cracked up a smile at the evidence. "I remember, all the things I did not appreciate enough... and which memory only seem to be opening my eyes now that they're gone."

I closed mine so I could gather a clear thought. "Where were you six months ago to tell me that? I can't do this anymore."

"I didn't know what I wanted." "Yes, you did. You wanted to get married!" "And you wanted to be with Pedro." "Maybe it only means we both tend to drive our partners away cruelly."

Ewan shrugged with a nearly cocky smile playing on his lips. "Seems like we could make a good pair after all." He concluded.

I let out a deep breath, shaking my head at him. "We deserve more than being each other's consolation, not feel like the unclaimed prize at some kind of wheel of fortune." I tried to reason. We just weren't meant to be.

"I know." Ewan sighed and I felt his hand on my arm, thumb gently brushing against his jumper. Slowly, he started to speak. "But just know- there's no one like you, you're so sweet and gentle and... funny. You're a big win, never a consolation prize." He said, sincere and uplifting.

"Thank you." It made me smile, yet I sighed and channelled my last bit of humour. "And here I thought you were living your life. I should have told you that in case you ever have a bad day, just remember you were a sensitive topic in my relationship."

It made him chuckle a little and it grew on me, warming me up inside.

I could finally breathe more freely and left his proximity, realising I wasn't being myself. I didn't want Ewan here and my voice finally showed it. "I used to think you left a hole in my life but I have just begun healing things that haf already been messed up with... light and happiness and with lasagna with an enye," I argued, bordering on grief.

Ewan didn't understand, of course, but he didn't ask either. I thought about the happiest time of my life and bubbling laughter and about the easiness and freedom I had never experienced with another person before. None of those feelings could be provoked by Ewan. They belonged to Pedro and me. "Now that's over too but you know me, right? I don't know how to let go."

It was all too much. I paced the room, feeling hot and cold and itchy. Slight panic crept onto me and I circled my bracelet around my wrist in a hurry.

"I feel dizzy," I admitted and felt my body tilt forward. Ewan caught me and held me up by my arms. "Please, let me help you sit down."

With what felt like clouds in my lightheaded mind, I smiled at the way he spoke with a soft Scottish lilt. It was in this moment of weakness that I wanted to just row back and fall into his arms. Return to what I assumed would be easy and familiar. Numbed down and perfectly content in docility.

Ewan directed me towards the living room area and I sat me down on my sofa. He left to grab something from the kitchen and sat right next to me as soon as he returned. I accepted the glass of cool tap water but recoiled at the faint smell of chlorine. "Thank you," I said anyway and forced myself to take a sip.

I wiped away another tear when I continued to spill my heart out. "I just wish I didn't have a heart at all. You said it yourself, I shouldn't loved you either."

"No, Nini-" "Yes, that's what you said." I was close to sobbing and I let myself be held by him.

"But it's not what I meant." He spoke in such earnestness I could almost believe him.

Ewan let his hand rest on my lower back to offer me comfort. "I said it because I was absolutely crazy about you and calling it off was the hardest thing to do because it was unfair to you. Maybe if I hadn't been such an arse, we would still... if you could ever forgive me-"

"Oh, why are you saying these things? I accepted your apology already." I gasped for words. Have mercy.

I turned away from him with a laugh. "I poured my love into that song when I wrote it but it wasn't a recent feeling, let me be clear. I published 'Blue Eyes' because it's a good song." I had almost had enough. "Ewan, what do you want from me?"

He looked at me with sad eyes. "I can't bear to see you hurt." he began. "And I had to know how you felt about me." I had to take myself away from him because I couldn't pretend there were only cold feelings between us. I knew I could have done worse than loving him.

I couldn't escape his gravity but the memories and feelings kept coming back. My head sank onto his shoulder so softly. I could just give in, I was nearly there. Why did I let him card his fingers through my hair and kiss the top of my head like this? Why did I let my body sink against his body and return to him when it made me feel homesick for a place I would never see again? Did he think he could just turn up out of the blue and expect me to start things over when whom I really wanted was Pedro... I wasn't considering it... I wasn't- I was so sad, I would die for the feeling of being loved again.

Regret, that we had lost us too. Now we were in the same boat. Both, desperate to revert into comfort. We would kiss and everything would go back to the way it was.

With all the strength I had left, I broke our longing gaze and lifted my body up and away from him. "Ewan, we can't do this. I can't tear open an old wound, can't risk another heartbreak." I whispered and turned my face the other way and yet, I felt a hand tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers afterwards, like he had done so many times before.

"I understand." He smiled and his voice sounded so pleasantly smooth when he spoke beside me. "I know I will never deserve you but if there's one thing I don't regret, it's the time spent with you. I would have not gone back home if there had been even the smallest chance that you had wanted this."

Our eyes met and I remembered the way I had looked at him more than ten years ago. Adoring, for there was nobody whom I had loved for so long. I touched his face with such slight and tiny butterfly caresses and then my hand smoothed out the hair on the side of his head.

The devil on my shoulder told me that kissing Ewan could never feel as wrong as it should. His nose was tilted at mine and my breath must have grazed his for a second. Maybe my downfall would be my fault because I was dangerously close to kissing him. He would push me back into the cushions. He would kiss me like he had come back and he would taste like tea and gingerbread.

Our bodies gravitated towards one another and as I leaned in, I felt him drowning out all of the alarms that had been ringing inside me. Could we really try again? It could feel serene, numbing. Would I even care if I made the same mistake twice? His eyes flickered down to my lips and he carefully closed the distance. We could try.

Wait a minute. Rewind.

A mere inch away from his lips, my eyes shot up and I felt the gears turn in my head. Promptly, I pushed myself away by a hand firmly placed on his chest. "Not go back? Wait, did you or did you not break up with your fiancée for a chance to get back together with me or-" I was about to pass this as a stupid thought when I caught a glimpse in his eyes. They darted to the side and the way he looked at me afterwards and didn't respond spoke a thousand volumes. His body had tensed up and he failed to speak the truth or even exhale.

The strand of hair fell back in my face as I tilted my head in disbelief.

"Oh.. my god." I suddenly felt repulsed and got away from him. "You didn't break up with her at all! You're still engaged? And you're here trying to kiss me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" I cried out angrily.

He tried to hold me back by my elbow. "Just one word from you and I will call off the wedding."

I shrugged him off. 'Homewrecker', the last point on my list of faults. "Oh, no! Nooo no no, no. This cannot be happening again. You know what? That's it." I jumped up and leaned over him, spitting out my rage. "I can't believe I almost fell for that twice. I was this close-" I showed him how close by bringing my fingers an inch apart together. "-to let myself be wrapped around your finger again, letting you into my life- my... my bed- while a hurt woman is sitting at home, hoping she's the only one for you. Am I supposed to feel flattered?" I practically yelled out.

I threw my hands up. "Well, if this is closure, then it's a good thing." Strangely, I felt nothing but release. All this tension, heavy weight and guilt fell off my shoulders as they shook with a cold, ironic kind of laughter. Count myself deluded, he hadn't changed one bit. Oh, I was so done with him.

"Why?"

"Because you're a fucking ocean and I'm an ocean and we can't be a lighthouse for each other."

"What? Darling-" he began but I interrupted him, emphasising each word. "Don't darling me." I bit out. He had gotten up and it was obvious that I was inviting him to leave my house. "You should go back to your fiancée and if you have any decency, ask her to forgive you for deeming her one aspect of your choices. Or ask yourself if you're doing her or yourself a favour by getting married at all." I was finally putting a bullet into the head of our relationship. This wasn't the storm after the calm, this was the dying breath of whatever past we shared.

"I see, if this is the wrong time-" his silly excuse was interrupted by my moment of clarity.

"It's never the wrong time, it's just the wrong person." I closed my eyes against my palm, letting the truth sink in. This meant the right person at the wrong time was still the right person. Oh, Pedro. I was such a fool.

I sobbed out, desperately aware of whom I let simply leave. "I love Pedro and I met this person, you know this person I want to take care of and am comfortable with like I've known him my whole life and I don't have to pretend anymore, be something I'm not or be... anything. I've never- I've never cried so much because I finally thought I knew what true love was." I spoke through tears.

Of all people, I wouldn't have guessed that Ewan would be so moved by my outburst. His lips had parted as he truly reflected upon my heartbreak and seeing the tears forming in his eyes only made my cry harder and uglier. "Pedro said he loved me and I turned him out." I balled my hands into fists. "I loved him since the first time we met and I will love him forever and I wouldn't have it any other way."

A moment of silence and defeat wavered into the room, in which I sniffed my tears away.

"You need to go to him," Ewan said and I looked up from my hands.

"What?" I asked dumbly and found myself at the receiving end of a soft, compassionate smile.

"Tell him you love him. If the man has two wits together, he will beg you to take him back immediately." Ewan said. My gaze flickered back and forth, trying to find the lie in his eyes. "It's very clear to me. You both want to be with each other. What are you waiting for?" He said like it was just that easy.

Well, could he be right? Neither Pedro nor I could ever feel complete again. If I just vowed my undying love then, maybe...

Slowly, I started nodding. "You're right." Determination clawed at my bones. My skin felt antsy. "I'm going to tell Pedro I love him."

Ewan was properly grinning now. "There, that's the Nini I know."

I huffed out a confused laugh and was about to leave immediately when I smelt something burning. "Damnit, the biscuits!"

"Fuck the biscuits! I'll deal with it. You go." He ushered me away from the kitchen.

"Thank you," I said, hectic and passionately and kind of, still mad at his audacity. "For making me realise what's important. Show yourself out!" I threw back over my shoulder as I ran towards the door.

"Nini, wait!" "Hell, what now?" "A coat, put on a coat!" Ewan called after me and I yanked the first coat off the hanger I could find and jammed my feet into a random pair of boots.

"Goodbye, Ewan!" I slammed the door behind me, skittering to a halt at the edge of a pavement covered with a thin layer of snow.

"Taxi!" I screamed and put myself in harm's way to make it stop in the middle of the street. The driver honked at me but I had already ripped open the door and climbed in to shuffle into the seat and tell the him to push it. "To Red Hook! Go go go!"

I would knock on his door, I would knock it down if I had to, I'd cry out how much I loved him, that I wanted to share my life with him- should I have brought a ghetto blaster?

We were driving too slow, the traffic was riling up my nerves but I had a smile stretched from ear to ear when jumped to the edge of my seat. We were nearly there.

"Stop the car!" I ordered my driver and he looked back in confusion. "Ma'am?" "I said stop. I'm walking." I paid the man a hundred dollars and moved out of the taxi to run the last block while trying not to stumble across my open laces.

But just when I turned around the corner into his street, I was stopped dead in my track. My feet came to a skittering halt and the shock ran down my spine colder than the winter's chill.

There he was.

I saw Pedro walk down the road and I stared for a while as the world around me disappeared.

It was unmistakably him and he looked so well. Pedro was walking down the street towards me, to his apartment building with an umbrella in his hand and a gorgeous woman hooked onto his arm, shielding her from the snow as they talked and laughed.

My lips parted as I took in the scene before me. She was so pretty, young, with dark hair and long legs, a model beauty queen. Each carried a grocery bag under their arm and she leaned into Pedro who was grinning about something she said. He draped his arm around her shoulders and she gave him a long kiss on his cheek as she held his cloudless face in her palm. His hand rested on her back affectionately when they shared a laughter. My heart shattered anew.

I was cold but I shivered for a different reason. They walked inside, not noticing I stood here, nor anything around them.

I remained in the dark, freezing, undetected, watching them enter the building and disappear into the warm light with smiles on their beautiful faces.

The orange glow of the city lights got reflected in the white streets. The snow fell tantalising slow from the heavens as the innocent intruders on earth that they were.

I stood there for several more moments longer to digest what I had just seen. Pedro was fine, more than just fine apparently. What did I expect? He was a handsome and kind man, he could have anyone. It couldn't have been hard for him to find someone new fairly quickly. Too late. I was too late.

Looking up the snowfall without explanation, I wished it was me up there. All those white specks swam before my vision, spiralling down the black sky and circling so perfectly among their kind and yet so alone in their journey. I stared at the descending frost and could finally relate to their short existence as I imagined all the things I should have said and done to prevent this. As I caught a snowflake, I watched it melt in my hand and it was the saddest thing I'd ever seen.

I turned and felt numb as I walked home in whiteness, dragging my feet down the street and not caring about the world any longer once it had stopped turning. Walking along the empty street, my eyelids flickered like the movies, in a screening of my dream that had slipped out of reach.

~

Part 26

Translation notes:

(dut): Zuur prium - (eng): grump

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal rpf #pedro nation #pedro pascal/oc #pedro pascal fanfiction series #pedro pascal ff #pedro pascal ao3 #pedro pascal actor fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal angst #angst #pedro pascal ofc

[creedslove]

BETRAYED - PART ONE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, Pedro being kind of a dick, drinking

1.2k words

PART TWO is here

You bit your lips when you saw your own reflection in the mirror, twirling softly as you analyzed yourself in the high couture dress the stylish team had picked exactly for you. After weeks of insistence, Pedro finally convinced you to be his plus one in an event. You'd been close for a long time and you always made sure to support him, attending events and premieres with special invitations he gave you, but never walking down the red carpet. You both knew it would just send everybody the wrong idea, and as his popularity was really high, you all agreed it wouldn't be a great idea to spark rumors and gossip, especially at how private he'd always been about his personal life.

However, after all the support you gave him, Pedro knew you deserved some of the glamour he was living and without exposing you to the media and all the lack of privacy that could lead, he picked a smaller event, a magazine cocktail ou gala, something like that, you weren't so sure. One there wouldn't be a red carpet per se, but rather a gala with a real nice dinner for the guests and a nice party to enjoy afterwards. There would be photographers, sure, but once inside, there was no way to point fingers at whoever was each other's plus ones.

The man really wanted you to have the whole experience, so he required his team of stylists to treat you like a real princess. He knew you deserved it, not only for the friendship you two had, but also as a way of trying to forget the guilt he felt every time he thought of how he probably broke your heart.

Pedro wasn't blind, ever since you became really close friends, he knew the affection, the words and the actions you had towards him meant something else, but he always chose to pretend not to notice, after all, no matter how incredible you were, he didn't feel the same. Yes, you were gorgeous, you were smart and amazing, but he just didn't feel that sparkle, and the fact you were a lot younger than he was didn't count on your relationship's favor. He was able to act as if he didn't know your feelings for him grew each passing day, until you being a lot braver than he could ever be, decided to come clean and open up about how you really felt. He hated himself for being honest and telling you in the best way he could find your feelings were one sided. It took you a couple of weeks to let it sink until you were able to act normal around him again. You loved Pedro and you would rather be around him as only friends, keeping your hopes high than being away from him. It wasn't healthy, but that was the way. Pedro also got relieved when he saw he didn't lose you, just because he didn't love you romantically, it didn't mean he didn't love you as a friend and cherished your friendship.

Once you were ready, he knocked on the door and walked in, smiling big at the sight of you in your pretty dress and took a step closer

"You're gorgeous Y/N… a real princesa"

he said in his accent which made you blush. You also took a look at him up and down and nodded, approving the look that was picked for him

"You look great as well, Pedrito" you smiled at him, though the butterflies in your stomach never stopped, no matter how hard you tried to pretend they did.

He offered you his arm and both went to the car together.

The event went smoothly, way better than you anticipated, there was no red carpet and though the photographers snapped pictures of him, no one bothered you. You didn't pay much attention to the theme of the gala and nor the speeches delivered, you paid attention to Pedro and how well he got along with people, always friendly and bringing smiles to everybody's face when he was around.

By the time the party was going on, the music was loud, people were dancing and you and Pedro were not sparing any drinks from the open bar, it was your turn to leave the dance floor and get yourselves another drink, so you interrupted your dance and smiled at him before going to the bar. You sighed at the amount of people in front of you and had no other choice but to stand in line to pick your beverages. You knew you'd take a while to return, but once you had the two glasses in hand you didn't expect to see him dance with another woman. Hell, you didn't expect to see him dance like that with another woman. Her body was glued to his and it was obvious to everyone they were just humping each other than doing dance steps. His hand was on her hips as she moved against his body, leaving no space between them. You stopped dead on tracks, watching the grotesque scene, as a hole formed in your chest. There wasn't any other word that could describe it better. At the first sight it was an intense pang, jealousy, sadness and anger heated up your body and raced your heart, but then, no matter how you didn't want to watch the scene, you also felt unable to look away, you became numb. There was just an emptiness inside of your heart and then you were able to turn your back to them and head back for the table.

It took all your willpower not to cry, but you wouldn't give him or anyone the taste of shedding tears over that, let alone in a room full of people you didn't know. You just finished the two drinks and remained in silence, wondering if you should just go home or drink more.

You were about to head for the bar another time when Pedro rushed to you, he was panting and smiled at you clueless, there was a soft flush on his cheeks and he held his suit jacket strategically on front of his lap, probably hiding the tent he got there.

"Hey, Y/N… honey, listen, I told you I'd take you home but something came up…" he scratched the back of his head "so if it's alright if you, maybe you can go home on your own? Text me when you get there so I know you arrived safely, okay? We'll talk tomorrow" he said in a rush and left a quick peck on your cheek, before turning your back to you and walking to the woman he was dancing with, taking her by the hand and quickly disappearing out of the door.

Only when your Uber arrived, you finally allowed yourself to let those tears fall, not even when he straight up told you to your face he didn't love you back, you felt as rejected and humiliated as that night. You hated that woman without even knowing her and you hated him for doing that to you.

In the early morning, Pedro left you a text asking if you'd arrived home safely, to which you didn't reply, you just silenced your phone and tried going back to sleep, so you'd forget about everything that happened.

-----

A/N: I hope you liked it!!!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal smut #actors #male actors

[avenging-fandoms]

This is so minuscule and lame but I like to think Pedro would be the type of man that would always make sure he’s holding your hand or has his hand on your waist / back for all scenarios

Like when he has to walk ahead of you, he puts his hand behind his back with a little grabby motion for you to hold onto

Or if you let go of his hand, he frowns

If you need to pass through a crowd, he guides you with his hand on your lower back

He’s such a goofball and sweetheart it’s hard NOT to think of these little things 🫣

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You got out of the limo a little after Pedro who waited for you on the curb. You thank the driver and follow behind Pedro who started walking down the red carpet. You watched his heels and he put his hands behind his back, waving his fingers.

You smile and walk a little faster, grabbing his hand and he brings you next to him. You walk with him and stand in front of the background, his hand holding onto your waist with your hand on top of his.

Pedro bent down to whisper in your ear, hand moving to your lower back, very low. "There's thousands of people here, but you're the only one who took everyone's breath away" He pulls his head up and you smile at him, rolling your eyes.

"You say that every red carpet, Pedro"

"Because it's true" He winks and you shake your head, giving him a quick kiss before you two walked further down the red carpet, and you two were sent to an interviewer.

You held a microphone with your right hand and Pedro's hand in your left, putting your hands behind your back as you two spoke to the interviewer. Midway through, you dropped your hand with Pedro's to move your hair out of your face and Pedro visibly pouted.

Pedro placed his hand on your butt, rubbing up to your back. You two finished the interview and walked away, Pedro's eyes still sad. "Is it because I fixed my hair?" The corner of his mouth curled up. "Pedro it was stuck to my lip gloss!"

"Excuses, excuses. You don't love me" He sighed dramatically and you laugh, stopping when you hit a pile of people. You look up at Pedro and he nods, his hand firmly on your back with his right hand gesturing forward. He kept you close to him as he excused you two through the crowd, making sure you weren't stepped on or bumped.

Once you two made it through the crowd, you moved your fingers in between his, Pedro smiling at you and kissing you before taking you inside. "Do you want a drink?" He whispered in your ear and you smile.

"Wine" You whisper and he hums, knowing what wine did to you. "I think later, you're going to start feeling sick and have to go home, and I'll have to be your nurse"

"I think.. my stomach is hurting now. You better take me to the bathroom and help me feel better" He winked but failed, making you laugh and kiss him all over his cheek. "Is there lipstick all over my face?"

"My kiss marks, yes"

"Perfect" He grabs your chin and kisses you again, heading to the bar to get you both a drink. You took sneaky pictures of him then when he caught you, then pictures of the both of you. "Send me all of those, one of them will be my new wallpaper" He mumbled into your shoulder and you smile, rubbing his thigh.

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

[ourautumn86]

comin in hot with a twt link! (Dont know if i did wrong or not im new to these ^^) Idk if you write for din djarin or not but i can just imagine him doing this as he takes out his frustrations on your pussy cause the bounty went sideways. but this could also be seen as joel if a smuggling deal went wrong. Your pick! <3 much love!!

https://twitter.com/OrgasmGifs/status/1619378756648574978?t=XxqL71XHdg891aZOifJB5g&s=19

oh lord, this is pure filth. 😭😮‍💨

din djarin x fem reader!

minors don’t interact, +18 content!

cw; rough sex, choking, manhandling, dirty talking, degradation, praising, piv sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming, dom! din x sub! reader, nipple playing, name calling (whore, slut…), …

“fuck.” your eyes shot open when you heard something crashing on the salon, along with the voice of who you recognized was din, your boyfriend.

your eyes still felt heavy with sleep, but your mind was slowly coming alive as you got up from bed.

“din?” you called out for him, he was giving you his back, armor still on except for his helmet—which he had thrown across the room—. he looked exhausted, but mostly of all exasperated, furious.

he didn’t seem to have heard you, and you stepped closer. “din, what’s-“ but before you knew it, there was a hand pinning your wrists to the wall behind your back and another surrounding your neck. from your lips fell a gasp that got caught in between his as he furiously kissed you. he groaned, pushing you harder against the wall, all air leaving your lungs. he was kissing you as if you were the last thing he could hold onto.

“din, what’s going-” you moaned when his clothed thigh pushed in between your naked ones, roughly pressing against your panties and your cunt. your hands messed with his hair and tugged when he freed your wrists and pulled your shirt upwards ‘till your bare chest was exposed for him to lick and suck onto.

“shut the fuck up.” he ordered, quieting you, letting you know what you needed to do, and that was to close your mouth and take what he gave you. and if what he needed to gave you was his anger, his frustration, and stress. you will take it.

you whimpered when his lips sucked on your nipple, the hand that now stood free grabbing at your hip to grind you on his thigh, making you sigh and whine, your panties growing wetter and wetter at his roughness.

“din…” you begged, and he groaned on your chest, sucking bruises that now beautifully decorated your perfect tits.

in a swift motion he was manhandling you with his strong arms, pulling you back into your room and pinned you onto the bed under his weight. it was rough, the way he kissed you, the way he pulled off your shirt, the way his hands were digging on your skin. but it hurt so good…

“fuck.” he muttered against your nipples when a high pitched and pornographic moan left your lips as his fingers sneaked inside your panties and met your wet core, his fingertips dripping on you.

your hips jolted against his touch when he teased you, his fingers dipping on your slick and merely brushing your clit, making your whole body shake in need. need for him.

“din please…” you begged, and he smirked.

“what a good girl…” he muttered against your neck as his fingertips pressed against your clit, making sparks fill your vision. “such good manners…” you whimpered, the praise only making you eager for him, needier. “being so good to me.” you screamed when he suddenly plunged two of his thick fingers inside of you, immediately finding your g spot. you couldn’t help but arch your bag, your eyes shutting close as he started to fuck them in and out of you. “listen to her…” he smirked, his dick painful hard in between his thighs at the sounds your cunt was making for him, sticky and perfectly ready for him to fuck into. “so ready for me…” you moaned, your cheeks burning due to the sounds that your arousal surrounding his fingers made.

“din…” you sighed his name, your hips rocking onto his fingers, needing him deeper. needing him to go harder, treat you badly, love you in that harsh way that made your mind reel… you were whimpering as he split you open with his fingers, brushing your g spot with every curl of his digits. it was needy, and harsh, it almost hurt, but you couldn’t possibly need him anymore than this. your whole body was like a magnet begging for his touch, needing him to touch you.

his patience seemed to be running out as he saw you fall apart, his cock pressed against your thigh as he grasped at your tits, tugging at the nipples just like he knew you liked.

the air in your lungs disappeared when in a quick flip he had down on your stomach, his rough hand landing a harsh spank to your ass, making you jolt and hiss.

in between the dizziness and hunger that enveloped you, you heard him push down his pants and underwear, too far gone to even care about the fact that you were beautifully naked under him and he was still on his goddamn armor, completely dressed.

you whined as one of his hands pulled you upwards so your ass would be sticking out for him, your glistening pussy begging for attention, your slick coating your mound and your thighs. you were soaking wet, drowning in desire.

he didn’t even tease you, didn’t even wait for you to get adjusted to his size before he was fucking you open with his huge cock. his tip brushed your cervix with every harsh thrust and you were withering and dissolving under his touch.

“fuck.” he groaned, his whole body shaking at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him and sucking him in every time he’d try and pull out just to thrust back in. it was as if your body was begging for him to stay inside, to fuck you full of him, for him to not go. “so good…” his pace spiked up, and your hands were holding onto your sheets for dear life, your body shaking with every snap of his hips against your ass. his balls met your cunt with every one of them, getting soaked on you. they felt so heavy… so full and ready to empty themselves in you… “you’re always so fucking good to me, pussy so ready to be filled up, huh?” he teased, and you whimpered as your walls tightened around him, making him groan. “such a fucking slut for dick. look at you…, already so close to cumming all over my cock…”

“din!” you cried out when his dick reached that deep spot inside of you that no one had ever been able to reach before, making your sight go blank.

“you gonna cum, honey? gonna cum for me?” his breathing was ragged, his pace needy. the sight in front of him was like heaven; you drooling all over your sheets, moans getting cut off by his thrusts and your cunt dripping only for him. you nodded, begging for him to let you cum, he almost bursted at your cries. “go ahead baby, soak my cock.” and you did, with moans and whimpers falling off your lips, your mind going black at the strength of your orgasm, which made your whole body shake and your walls to get impossibly tighter around him.

“shit.” he groaned, fucking you though it, feeling your cum coat the curls on the base of his cock, the wetness and warmth of it.

“din!!” you whimpered when his pace only sped up, the overstimulation becoming too much. you tried and get away from him, crawl your way on the bed, but he only tugged you closer, pinning you down onto the duvet ‘till only your hips were detached from it, spreading you open for him to fuck into. his right hand harshly gripped your neck from the back of your head, making sure you wouldn’t move, that you wouldn’t get away from him. you were sure there would be bruises on his fingertips decorating your waist tomorrow morning, but you wouldn’t care. “din, please…”

you screamed as he started to piston inside of you, unable to quiet your sobbing and whimpers. “don’t fucking move.” he groaned, feeling his own release start to build. “take it. be the good whore you are and fucking take it.” he gritted in between his teeth.

your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, your jaw slack and spit dribbling to the sheets. your mind felt hazy, your body heavy as he fucked you towards your second orgasm, which was building faster and harder than the first.

“that’s it. good girl.” he smirked when your own body started to thrust backwards, begging for more. “good. fucking. girl.” his thrust cut every one of his words.

“din, gonna cum, gonna-, fuck!” your eyes were rimmed by tears, your legs shaking and about to let you fall onto the mattress. thank god he was holding you up, manhandling you just like he would a goddamn toy for him to fuck.

“that’s it baby. cum for me. good girl.” you were falling apart as he hit your sweet spot one, two, three more time before your orgasm came crashing down like a tidal wave, drowning you under water. “fuck, so fucking tight.” he groaned, his cock twitching at how your walls were tightening. “gonna cum baby. gonna fill this pretty and wet cunt of yours.” you moaned. “yeah? you want it, baby? want my cum?” you whimpered, nodding, babbling however you could multiples ‘yes’ that slurred their way out of your lips. “fuck. take it baby, fucking take it.” he groaned, and his cock twitched as he emptied himself inside of you, painting your pussy on cum and filling you up so good you could only wither and moan at the feeling.

you fell with him to the mattress, your bodies sticky and spent. he had for sure fucked his frustrations in you.

he quickly undressed, holding you with your back against his wide chest, his strong arms surrounding your waist. you whimpered when his soft cock pushed his cum all inside once again when he seated himself in your cunt. “i know baby, i know…” he cooed, leaving soft pecks and kisses in the expanse of your neck and shoulders. “gotta keep it all warm and inside for you baby.” he muttered against your skin, and soon enough your eyes were closing once again, now completely spent due to his rough fucking.

-

a/n; oh lord, hope y’all liked it, love you! 😭😮‍💨

#din djarin #din djaren #din darjin #din dijarn #din dijarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin x fem!reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal actor #pedro pascal x y/n #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x y/n #dan! writes ♱

[auteurdelabre]

Bravo! Take a Bow pt 2 (SERIES) Dieter

Summary: As you're brought back for a Chemistry Read with Dieter Bravo things don't turn out exactly as anticipated. rating: 18+ (for future smut chapters) words: 6.9k Warnings: Cigarettes part 1

Parking in Burbank is expensive. The kind of expensive that has you wishing you'd taken the bus despite the commute from your apartment. When you finally find the hotel your heart lurches in your chest. You're actually here, it's actually happening. You slip your credit card into the machine, wincing as you see the total.

Oh well. If you land this role maybe you can afford to get valet the next time you go out to eat. You smile at that though, placing the ticket on your dashboard and gripping the pages from your seat in your hand.

It’s fun playing in this fantasy. Living in your mind a world where you land this role, where it catapults you into superstardom. You can imagine the interviews, the red carpet, the fame and fortune.

All you have to do is get this part.

“Your zipper is down.”

You glance at your phone to see you’re still too early. A whole half an hour.

You told you brother and a few girls at the restaurant about this chemistry read and their supportive messages come through to your phone.

You got this gurl I better see you on the big screen 🔥🔥🔥 - Daisy, fellow server and hopeful crooner.

Fucking slay this audition or I'm never covering another shift for you!!!! -Tiffany, your favorite fellow server who spends hours in her crowded apartment making dancing tiktoks.

I believe in you honey. I can't wait for you to tell me all about it tomorrow. - Charlotte, who probably needed one of the kitchen staff to help her send a text. Bless her.

You got this! Crossing our fingers and toes over here! - that's from your brother.

I know u got this & I'll make pasta for dinner to celebrate! 💋💋💋 - Carlee's message is typically her, sweet and supportive. She was of course the first person you told when you got the call.

You spot a smoothie bar across the street and jog over, waving at the cars that let you pass. You feel so excited, so nervous, so… electric as you walk over. You’re convinced everyone must see it in your face, they must feel it in the energy you’re giving off because everyone you pass is smiling at you. Everyone that you pass seems kind and joy –

You glance at the old woman to your left pointing at your jeans. With red cheeks you glance down to see she’s correct. Your pink polka dot panties peek out and you quickly zip your jeans up, turning from the smoothie bar to walk in the opposite direction.

Fuck.

///

Turns out the gas station near the hotel has coffee and that suits you just fine. You take a seat outside on the curb, sipping and you look at the pages you were sent this week. These are the ones you and Carlee spent hours going over and over and over again until you were both exhausted and giggly.

There are a litany of notes in the margins, reminders of character motivations and prompts, observations you made about the scene. You want this part of Cecilia so badly and you are prepared to do all you can to land it.

They must have seen it in your audition – the desire, the character flowing through you. You must have communicated that with your craft and that feels so uplifting, so gratifying. To be recognized for your talent in something you hold so near and dear to your heart.  You take a break from the pages you've prepared, not wanting to overdo it and you bask in the warmth of the day.

You think that this moment is when things are going to change for you and you want to document the moment. You pull up Instagram on your phone and hold the coffee cup in front of your face, smiling brightly before snapping the selfie. When you’re satisfied with it after a few filtered adjustments you caption it: “Acting fuel #actorlife #lalaland”

If anyone searches your Instagram they would think your life is nothing but sunshine, auditions and fun nights out. They don't see the long hours at the restaurant, of coming home smelling of garlic. They don't see the frustrated tears when you don't land a role. They don't see the shame when your family asks you to come visit and you can't afford the flight. 

Instead you scroll back to one of your earliest posts from when you first got here to L.A. It's a selfie of you in the Sudsy bubble costume, smile bright as you stand on the fake kitchen set. 

It's funny because you're always tempted to take it down, to forget that embarrassment. But there's something in your face in that photo that stops you every time. You'd been just so excited to land a role, to actually get paid for something you're passionate about. It comes through in every inch of the photo. 

This buoys you; it makes you forget the zipper as you walk into the hotel. You’re hair was done by Carlee and hangs in sleek waves over your shoulders, your makeup is subtle, your jeans and t-shirt are perfect for the character – she’s a simple, small-town woman. You want the casting directors to believe you are Cecelia Jackson in the flesh.

This is it. This is the moment everything changes for you. You can feel it in your bones. And this thrills you despite the fact that your potential future costar is Dieter Bravo. You frown a bit at the thought of running into him again.

You go to the front desk to check in and are greeted warmly by a man in an expensive looking suit. He asks you to follow him and you both take the elevator to one of the upper level meeting rooms. The place is huge, normally held for things like business meetings but right now is set up with a couch, some chairs under the window. The rest of the place is haphazard, things being moved, tape being put in colorful X’s on the floor to mark where you should stand. A large camera is there, being operated by an older man with a backwards cap.

You wait to be announced, to be guided, but the man from the hotel simply points you in the direction and then is gone, leaving you standing on the fringe of the scene feeling awkward. Your mouth goes dry and you wish you hadn’t bothered with the coffee.

You move further into the large room, trying not to be intimidated by the cameras and the bustling crowd of busy-looking people while others stand looking bored at their phones. That's the thing about the film world, the hurry up and wait of it all. 

You see several chairs set up at the side of the room, one of which has an ornate striped purple jacket draped over it. You’d bet your next paycheck that it belongs to Dieter. No one else would wear it, that’s for sure.

"Hey Sudsy."

You wince, trying not to show your displeasure and you feel your cheeks get hot as you turn to look behind you to see Dieter grinning at you, wearing oversized sunglasses. Does he know he’s inside?  His hair is especially wild around his face and today he wears a simple silver hoop in his left ear. But that's all that's simple about him. He's wearing striped pants under a green sweater that almost reaches his knees and on his feet? Black Crocs. Did he get dressed in the dark?

"Hi."

"You ready for this read?" He lowers his sunglasses to the end of his nose. "Come prepared?"

"Yep."

You keep your answers brief and monosyllabic. You also try not to look at his face. You know those big, doe-eyes of his will hold either amusement or pity, neither of which you want. You wonder how to thank him for the money he left as your tip. Is it gauche to mention it? Is it pathetic? He glances down at your pages, his eyes growing owlish in his face.

“Is that your writing in the margins?”

“Yeah,” you say, folding the pages up, feeling shy under the scrutiny. “Just some notes.”

Dieter gets a strange look on his face and he nods, looking at his own blank spaces on the script. You note it looks like it was just freshly printed off and you wonder if he’s even bothered looking at his part. You spent days memorizing every line, every breath and you think it would be just your luck to work opposite a man who hasn’t even bothered glancing at it until now.

"You didn't wear the bow," Dieter observes, breaking into your anxious thoughts.

You raise your eyes to his at that and see the amusement so clearly showcased there. You feel a flush of humiliation go through you. You see how it is now. He's just going to play with you, like a bored child needing entertainment. 

"Nope. Didn't want to risk it in case you brought more judgmental models with you."

Dieter looks surprised by your response but then his eyes fly to something behind you. You glance over to see the craft services table being set up, an array of water bottles and snacks being laid out. 

"Oh fuck yeah," Dieter says before heading over to the table. You watch as he immediately plucks several cubes of cheese from the tray, saying something to the man setting the spread up and making him laugh. You watch Dieter swipe a cookie, chewing obnoxiously as you cringe watching him.  

You hear your name being called and a woman named Jan approaches introducing herself as the head casting director.

“So glad you could join us today. We’re just getting the lighting set up and then you and Dee will be good to go, yeah?”

“Uh, sure, should we do a run-through?”

“Nah, this is more casual,” Jan assures you. “We just wanna see how you work off one another. See how it feels. You off-script?”

“Mhmm.”

“Great. I’ll call you both in a sec.”

You smile, but it’s tight. You glance over at your hopeful future co-star and hold in a groan. He’s shoving more cheese into his mouth, laughing at something on his phone.

This is supposed to be Levi Jackson? The man that Cecelia loved for all those years? The man she felt confident to place all her hopes and dreams in? You decide Dieter can play the disappointing older version of Levi, that’s for sure. The washed up architect that hasn’t touched her in months. The man she’s grown to hate.

Dieter saunters over to you, his eyes scanning the page as he murmurs to himself. He stops right next to you, glancing at your page. His sunglasses are hanging over his collar, the arm of one snug against his sternum.

“Can I see your notes?”

You have no reason not to show him. It’s not like you’re competing for the same role. You nod, handing him your script. He’s reading something written in the margins, his eyes squinting. You wonder if he needs glasses but doesn’t wear them for vanity’s sake.

“You really think she hates him?”

You glance over to see the part Dieter is referencing, his long finger pointed to one of your hastily printed notes. The ones that say ‘unfiltered hatred’.

“I dunno, seems she’d be a bit more chill about it,” Dieter shrugs. “Yeah she’s pissed, but, she loves this guy, right?”

“Yeah that’s why she’s so upset,” you explain diplomatically. “She loved him for so long and he’s become such a huge disappointment.”

“But if she loves him so much then why is she so mean to him?” Dieter reasons, almost childlike. “How can you hate and love someone at the same time? They’re polar opposites.”

“You can love someone and hate them all at once, trust me,” you scoff, taking your pages back. “Haven’t you ever been in love?”

Dieter blinks, the amusement fleeing his face for a fraction of a moment before its being replaced by bravado.

“I’m rarely lonely,” he smiles.

You hold in an eye roll and go to tell him that it’s not the same, that love isn’t the same as lust. But you’re both being called over to Jan, ordered kindly to sit on the sofa together. You do so, both on either side of the sofa as Jan demanded.

Dieter still has cookie crumbs on his shirt that he wipes absently at, glancing once more at the script, mumbling to himself and tossing the pages back onto his chair. You watch him begin to do mouth exercises, stretching his tongue out back and again saying turns of phrases to loosen up his muscles.

“Okay, so this scene is Cecelia and Levi just coming back from a really bad dinner with friends,” Jan says setting the scene for you. “Cecelia is embarrassed because Levi just lost another contract. Things are tense. Go when you’re ready.”

You take a deep breath, eyes shuttering for a moment as you slip into the skin of this character, as you take on her burdens and let go of your own.

It's easy to find the anger for the man sitting across from you. It's resting there, dormant since Dieter came into your restaurant. Despite the generous tip me left, you could easily recall the way he laughed behind his hand, the way he made you run back and forth like a lapdog. 

You think of how he didn't greet you like an equal today. He called you Sudsy, wanted to remind you that you are less. Mentioned the hair bow to throw you off your game. Challenged your notes when he was the one that wanted to see them.

And when you open your eyes you’re not you. You’re Cecelia Jackson, a woman pushed to her limits by a man she thought she knew. Dieter is staring at you, watching this process and you realize it’s because you have the first line.

“Tonight was humiliating,” you deliver loudly, your voice slicing through the air.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Dieter replies, his eyes soft.

“Not for you,” you scoff, eyes narrowed. “I’m going to bed.”

You move to get up, but Dieter reaches for you, just as it says in the script. His hand wraps around your wrist and he stops you from leaving. You give a sigh, sinking back into the sofa with hatred in your eyes.

"Cece. I just wanna talk."

Cecelia and Levi. Lovers of five years, their relationship frayed by the casual betrayals of one another. A toxic relationship at best. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Levi.”

Dieter moves closer to you on the sofa and you eye him warily. His dark eyes drop to your mouth and then move to your eyes.

“Baby.”

You think of Cecelia, a strong woman pushed to her breaking point. You think how she wouldn't want to talk to Levi, wouldn’t want to hear his pathetic ‘baby’ croon. She'd want to slap him. 

"Get off of me," you say, eyes bright with anger. You jerk your hand from his harshly. Dieter looks shocked by this aggressive choice, mouth parting before he remembers himself. 

"Why are you being like th-"

"Because I don't want you anywhere near me tonight," you hiss, body tensed. "I don't even want to be in the same house as you. I want you gone."

"I built this house brick by brick," Dieter sneers. "What makes you think you have any claim to i-"

"Because for the last five years I've had to put up with you!" You scowl. "I'm owed something for that."

Dieter takes a deep breath and you anticipate his next words. But then he's putting back, breaking character and looking over at Jan. 

"She's stepping all over my lines," Dieter sulks, mouth downturned.

"You wanted her here Dee," Jan says before she moves over to talk to the man behind the camera. You feel your eyes blow wide as Dieter frowns; reaching behind him to grab his pages and look over the lines again.

No.

You realize now what this is. It's a favor. Something Dieter did because he feels sorry about how you were treated during the dinner. His way of absolving his guilt because the money wasn’t enough. Immediately you feel sick to your stomach.

"Fuck," you whisper, anger and humiliation overtaking you. 

"Just let the lines breathe," Dieter says moving his hands airily and sounding like every other pretentious actor you've met. "You keep coming in ea-"

"Not the fucking lines," you hiss lowly, not wanting anyone to hear. You glance over to see Jan and the group still talking. Dieter is looking at you with knitted brows, his face a picture of confusion. He leans forward on the sofa, voice dropping low to match yours.

"Then what?"'

"I'm not here because they liked my audition. I'm here because they did you a favor." 

"So?" Dieter shrugs. He doesn't even bother denying it which somehow makes it worse.

"What's the point? They won't actually consider me."

"Why? I saw your audition. You were really fucking good."

"They're only seeing me because the infamous and connected Dieter Bravo called the right people and pulled the right strings. This whole thing is a farce." 

You cross your arms over your chest, heart picking up speed. You're trying so hard not to feel devastated in front of this man you don't even know. 

"You seem too smart to be this naive," Dieter scoffs. "Half this industry is built on who knows who. So either use it to your advantage and kill the read or keep working part time at that restaurant. Choice is yours, Sudsy."

With that he moves back, the scent of peppermint and old coffee wafting over you in his wake. You know he said a lot, but all your narcissistic brain can focus on is: I saw your audition. You were really fucking good.

"Let's take that one again," Jan says as they set up the camera to its first position.

You nod, inhaling deeply as your eyes go to the sofa. Fuck this is so awkward and awful and-

“Can I make a suggestion?” Dieter asks voice soft again. You glance up, nodding. You have nothing to lose at this point.

“Remember why Cecelia loved Levi in the first place. Remember that feeling as you’re getting mad. Then let it explode. Don’t start from anger too fast. Get there and then let Levi have it.”

There’s wisdom in that suggestion, you think. Even if it’s coming from a man who’s most recent claim to fame was a movie about poorly CGI’d animals attacking a group of scientists. You lick your lips nervously before nodding.

Jan calls out from behind the camera. “And Dee when you’re giving the baby line let us believe it, yeah? Right now it’s playing a little flat.”

Dieter nods, taking the note with a bit of a curl in his lip. You hide your amusement. For a man that likes giving acting advice, he sure doesn’t like hearing it.

“Action!”

“Tonight was humiliating,” you say in a soft voice, your eyes sorrowful.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Dieter replies, leaning back on the sofa and watching you. He’s more relaxed his body boneless against the sofa. He’s Levi, king of his own castle, not seeing that his wife is quickly unraveling.

“Not for you,” you say, holding back tears. You take a minute to let the scene play out in your mind, going to an empty bed, joined later by a man who hasn’t shown he still desires you. “I’m going to sleep.”

Dieter reaches across the sofa as you begin to stand, his warm fingers wrapping around your wrist. He pulls gently, not wanting you to leave. You feel your affection for Levi flood your senses and against your better judgment you stay, slowly moving back against the cushion.

"Cece. I just wanna talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Levi.”

Dieter looks at you with those large, emotional eyes of his and you feel yourself get sucked into them. You don’t even notice when he slides towards you on the sofa. But suddenly he’s close, so close. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes moving to your mouth and back to your eyes.

“Baby.”

It’s raspy and needful and you don’t love that your heart hiccups when Dieter says it. You blink, not allowing yourself to get pulled out of the scene.

"Get off of me," you say tiredly. You’re exhausted after a long night and just want to go to sleep. You go to tug your hand from Dieter but he holds tight to it, his face contorted into a painful pleading look.  

"Why are you being like this?"

"Because I don't want you anywhere near me tonight," say, still trying to tug your wrist back. He’s so close and he’s got such a grip that it makes you feel trapped. You hate it and the agitation shows on your face. "I don't even want to be in the same house as you. I want you gone."

"I built this house brick by brick," Dieter sneers, pulling you by the wrist towards him. "What makes you think you have any claim to it?"

"Because for the last five years I've had to put up with you!" You cry out. "I'm owed something for that."

“You think because I put a ring on your finger that gives you permission to take everything from me?” Dieter insists with his mouth curved into a hideous grimace. You note as he begins to move forward, trying to intimidate you. “You think I’ll let you walk out of my life with everything I’ve built?”

“That we’ve built you mean,” you say, the anger starting to curl around your words as you bring yourself to a kneeling position on the sofa finally wrenching your wrist from his now loosened grip.

“If it weren’t for me supporting you through school, Levi, we wouldn’t even have this house.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dieter says, arms tight across his chest.

“Ask anyone,” you insist, voice thick with emotion. “Hell, ask anyone from dinner tonight. They’ll tell you. They all know.”

“Dinner tonight just showed me how much you’ve changed,” Dieter says disgustedly. “I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

“You drank so much I’m shocked you remember any it.”

“I remember plenty,” Dieter says, face thunderous and now his tone has a biting edge to it, his eyes narrowed. He twists so that he’s fully facing you, one hand on the back of the sofa. “Surprised you didn’t blow the server when he brought the drinks. He’s just your type right?”

You lose yourself in the character; Cecelia’s anger is your anger. The man sitting across from you is not Dieter Bravo, he's Levi Jackson. The man that you love as much as hate. The man who is bringing up an ugly part of your past to make you cower to him.

You can't help it, your hand acts independently of you and you bring it back, throwing it through the air and slapping Dieter harshly across the face. His face snaps to the right, and you can see the slight pink color rushing to his cheek.

The smack echoes in the quiet room.

“Cut.”

Your hand remains raised in the air, stuck as if you’ve been frozen to the spot. Your mouth is agape and your eyes are circles in your face.

You're done. Your career is over.

You've just slapped one of the most famous actors in Hollywood. 

Goodbye Oscars. Goodbye fame and fortune. Goodbye life you thought you’d be living.

You watch as Dieter's large, ring-covered hand goes to cup his reddened cheek and he turns back to face you. You're shocked when you see him grinning widely at you, eyes bright. 

"Atta girl." 

Something like dizzying relief hits you when you see the smile and hear his words. You let out a wild breath of laughter, your hand lowering. The rest of the room is buzzing again, the silence replaced by urgent murmurs and the makeup lady coming over to put something on the red in Dieter’s face. He’s still smiling at you, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dieter grins. “That was really good.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“With that slap? Nah. Gotta do it harder if you really wanna leave a mark.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You’re about to say more when you hear Jan call your name. She comes striding over, looking impressed and you rise up off the sofa, your smile plastered on for her.

"Alright thanks so much for coming in," she says shaking your hand. "Did you drive here? We can validate your parking."

You nod, still dazed from what just happened as you hand the stub to the young man flagging you down at the side if the room. You go to thank the woman for the opportunity but she's already turned to Dieter, you’re already forgotten. 

"Okay we have a few more women coming in to test against you,” Jan is telling him. “Try to maintain that same level of passion."

Dieter nods, but you see him glancing at you out the corner of his eyes. 

"And if you can, try to enunciate a bit better," she includes, looking at her notes. 

You don't hear any more of her critiques because you’re being ushered outside the doors towards the elevator. You glance back, wanting to remember this moment. If nothing else it has been an exhilarating time. You catch Dieter’s eyes on your just as someone from inside closes the doors.

///

A week later Gwen gives you a brief smile when you arrive at her office on Sunset. Your stomach is in knots as you climb into the chair across from her looming desk. 

Gwen holds no sentimentality, and there are no photos that line her desk, no charming nature photos or inspirational quotes, nothing to put you at ease. Just brick facade overlooking the busy street outside. 

"So," Gwen says pulling a folder in front of her and you see your name there in bold felt. "Is it true you slapped Dieter Bravo?"

Fuck. You're getting let go. This is it. You're gonna have to fight tooth and nail to get another agent. Fuck. Fuck.

"Y-yeah," you say, trying to remain as dignified as possible. If you’re going to be let go, you're not going to do it sniveling."I got caught up in the scene. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Gwen smirks, flipping open your folder. "They loved it."

"Wait, really?"

“Yeah, they want you back for a second reading.”

No one is more surprised than you when Gwen details that you’ve been called back for a second chemistry read that Friday.

When you walk back into the same hotel in Burbank you do so with a newfound confidence.

The first audition you could hand to Dieter. Without him, you never would have got through those doors. But now that they’ve seen what you can do they’ve called you back. This means something.

Right?

You walk into the same room only there are far less people today. Just Jan and the camera person. Oh, and Dieter of course with a tall serious looking woman that’s shaking her head at him.

You glance at the page with the scant amount of lines they supplied you with, going over your notes. You stand there reading for a few moments, unaware of the figure approaching you.

 “Hey Sudsy.”

Dieter greets you with a smile around a coffee cup. He’s wearing green leggings at least four sizes too big and a long black t-shirt underneath a huge black puffer vest. Despite how ludicrous he looks you know for a fact that everything he’s wearing is designer and worth more than your rent. His sunglasses are there, as they always are.

 “Hello.”

“I didn’t make any calls this time,” he assures you, an amused twist to his mouth. “This is all you.”

You give a small smile up at him, nodding. You can’t help but appreciate the fact that he’d emphasize he’d had no part in it. A dark part of you had been wondering if this was just a further favor.

There’s no time for more catching up because Jan is calling you both over, indicating to the small makeshift kitchen they’re utilizing. There’s green X’s on the floor and you make note of them as you’re instructed which ones to hit.

“So I know you were sent a few pages,” Jan says looking harried. “But that acts being rewritten so we’re gonna jump to page forty.”

"Oh I was told just to prepare that first, scene," you say nervously looking over the script and then at Jan.

"Today is more improv than anything," the woman says smiling. "Read the first page and then just go from there."

You nod. You were told by Gwen that today might contain improv, something that you’ve always been good with in the past. But it’s a lot different doing these fun improve classes with your classmates who are always in a good mood. Doing it in front of studio workers? It feels different.

You take a quick peruse at page forty, glancing up to see Dieter doing the same, his mouth moving as he silently reads. Jan gives you a minute before she's behind the camera with the bearded man, eyes on the scene. 

"Okay so this scene Cecelia is putting away dishes after the dinner party.  Levi is hurt by how she's treating him and he wants to go back to how it was all those years ago when you first fell in love. If you could hit those green marks this time. Okay? Ready when you are."

Everything is so fast, so whirlwind. That’s part of what you love about the business. But right now when you want to get everything right you want it all to slow down. You take a deep breath and for whatever reason you glance at Dieter standing off to the side. Somehow something in his warm brown eyes and the nod he gives you steadies you.

You stand on your first mark, using the props they’ve given you. A washcloth and a glass. You pretend to be cleaning them. You sigh softly, thinking of Cecelia and her broken heart. Of the humiliation she’s had to endure this evening. 

“Hey baby."

Dieter’s voice sails over to you from behind. You know from the script that he’s standing there behind you, leaning against the wall and watching you. You bristle under his gaze, frowning.

"I can't stand it when you drink," you say, shaking your head, eyes on the sink.

"And why's that?"

"You get maudlin," you say, pretending to put the dishes away. 

"You used to like that about me," Dieter says, his voice husky and you hear his footsteps approach. "Said it reminded you of thoughtful poets."

"I used to like a lot of things about you back then," you say with a cruel laugh, putting the glass to the side. "Things change."

This is where the script left off and you feel yourself panic slightly. You've always been good at improv but for some reason insecurities pop up.

They don't actually want me here.

I'm blowing this.

Fuck. What would Cecelia do? Say?

You look into the sink, feeling overwhelmed. Your shoulders hunch slightly and you can feel it, yourself being pulled from the scene, the energy leaving you. This is your one fucking chance and you’re blowing it!

Fuck fuck fuck.

"Look at me, Cece."

Dieter’s voice reaches out to you, dark and low. It breaks you from the whirring in your mind. You swallow and turn to face Dieter, your features pinched. Your spine is against the counter, your hands gripping the edge of it so tightly your knuckles are pale. 

You watch as he approaches yours, slow measured steps and dark eyes that don't leave yours. He’s taken off the sunglasses and the puffer jacket. Without them you notice the length of his lashes and the breadth of his shoulders.  It distracts you for a moment.

"What did you like?" Dieter asks as he comes to stand next to you at the sink, hitting his mark on the floor. You gaze up at him, your mind racing. 

"W-what?"

"I said what did you like?" He repeats, his body moving closer to yours. "Back then. What did you like about me, Cece?"

You think of your character Cecelia. A woman in love with a man who can't give her what she needs. You think of Levi: a man trodden down by life and how she's had to watch him change from the man she loves into this drunken loser. 

"I liked how ambitious you were."

"Mhmmm," Dieter nods and you feel his hands come to wrap around your waist, guiding you hips to his. "What else?" 

You feel yourself growing breathless by his proximity. This isn’t Dieter Bravo anymore. The puffer vest is gone, and instead you feel the warmth of his body through his clothes. This is Levi. A man who loves you as much as despises what you’ve become. You try to channel Cecelia as you feel his hips press tightly against yours, urging you back against the counter and pinning you there.

"And how you used to take me dancing."

You remember reading in the earlier script that Cecelia and Levi met dancing. Dieter obviously doesn't because his mouth hitches slightly in amusement. You think he can pass it off as tipsy. His hands go to the counter on either side of you, leaning in, taking up your space.

"I miss how it felt to wake up together," you say, chest tight. You're not expecting Dieters head to dip forward. Your eyes fall closed as you wait for his mouth on yours. But instead you feel his lips drag along your jaw. 

"That's all you miss?" Dieter murmurs against your neck as he begins to nuzzle there. "Nothing else?"

You shiver when he kisses you at that soft spot just behind your ear. His hand is on the back of your neck, holding you as he breathes heavily against it, lips full. You can feel his short beard rasp against the sensitive skin of your neck and you hold in a whimper.

Jesus.

You know that this is acting, that this is a job. But his voice is so delicious, rumbling against your skin and his body is so warm and for a moment you forget you're acting in front of a camera. 

"I miss the sex," you breathe, your eyes heavy lidded. You feel Dieter's face pull back, eyes surveying your eyes and gently parted mouth before your gaze locks with his. 

The air in the room is warm and it's like you can hear a pin drop. No one is moving; it's like you only exist with him in this moment. Cecila and Levi.

"I miss how you felt inside me."

Dieter’s breathing picks up and you don't miss how his neck bobs as he swallows. His face inches towards yours, hand still at your neck to keep you from moving back from him, not that you would. 

You feel his full mouth brush against yours, so lightly it could have just been air. His dark eyes are focused solely on your lips. Your hand goes to the collar of his t-shirt, a forefinger curling around it. 

"What else?"

"I miss how you used to take what you wanted," you say as his lips graze yours again. His fingers still stay splayed around your neck but his thumb is hooking around your lower lip, opening your mouth to him.  

"I miss-"

Whatever you were going to say next is lost as Dieter’s mouth presses against yours. His tongue immediately sliding between your parted lips needing to taste you. 

You groan, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling his lips more firmly against yours as he licks into your mouth. He kisses really really well with the kind of passion you feel going up your core. His hands slide along your spine before his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against his front. And then soon, all too soon he pulls back from you.   

"You miss me," Dieter says against your mouth, his dark voice breathless. "But I'm right here, baby. Always have been. You just haven't been looking."

"Okay cut! Perfect." 

Jan’s voice breaks into the scene, pulling you both from the moment. You feel Dieter’s hand fall from your neck and body, his eyes losing that soft gaze as he steps back. When he releases you he does so slowly before stepping back, his eyes flying to that same tall woman in the corner as you break apart.  

You stand there, still tilted against the counter and feel yourself slowly break from the daze when Jan comes over, smiling and handing Dieter some new pages.  You sneak a glance over to Dieter and see him smirking at you before his eyes go back to his script.  

“That was really good,” Jan says to you, the surprise clear on her face. “I loved that energy, that coiled desperation.”

You try not to blush under the praise, even though after months of silence it feels so good to be told you’re doing well. You feel breathless, almost giddy. You hadn’t been expecting to feel so much so quickly. You’d assumed you’d need more warming up but you feel electric.

“Hey Stace,” Jan says going back to her chair and calling over to the young girl at the far side of the room that you hadn’t even noticed when you first came in. “Can we do something about the shine on Dieter’s face?”

You feel yourself breathing heavily, your entire body buzzing. Being in his arms, the taste of his peppermint gum still on your own tongue. 

"Alright thanks so much for coming in," Jan says with a wave.

You know the drill. You nod, giving a wave to the group before stumbling your way out of the room. You can’t look back this time; you can’t meet Dieter’s eyes because for some reason you feel completely undone.

You’ve never done a scene like that before and it gives you both a thrill and a giddy embarrassment. You know you’re smiling like an idiot as you exit the room, but this immediately ceases when you almost run into a tall and beautiful woman.

It's Haley Braccken, A-list actress and if rumors are to be believed, Dieter’s ex-girlfriend. 

You've seen them splashed over the cover of gossip magazines in grocery stores. A particularly lurid image of Dieter snorting coke off her bikini covered tits in Ibiza was especially popular when you were still working at your dead end office job. She's just as luminous in real life as she is on screen.

I thought they wanted an unknown.

Disappointment floods you as you pass her in the elevator. She gives you a polite nod, heading into the same room you've just exited. She smells expensive, like leather handbags and perfume you could never afford. You see her charm bracelet snugly around her wrist and it tinkles as she walks past you.

There's no way you're getting cast in this movie. Why did you raise your hopes up? Why did you think that you, a nobody with a shitty commercial under her belt, could go to against real actresses?

///

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Carlee insists that evening as you prepare for work later that afternoon. You pull on your starched dress shirt, groaning about Haley Braccken for the fiftieth time that evening. Carlee is impossibly patient and supportive.

“She’s beautiful Car,” you tell her frowning into the mirror. “Younger, more beautiful, more famous. Why the fuck wouldn’t they hire her?”

“She may be wrong for the part.”

“When you look like Haley Braccken, there is no wrong part.”

Carlee gives you a pat on the shoulder before moving from you. She knows there’s no point in talking to you when you’re morose like this. You hear her close the door to her bedroom and you sigh.

You go to grab your purse from the coffee table and are down the hallway when you hear the sharp ring of your cell. You’re surprised to see Gwen’s name come up on the display. It’s later in the day and there’s always that lingering doubt, that endless fear that she’s going to drop you.

“Hello?”

“You got a minute?”

“Yep.”

“Well, apparently the chemistry read was off the charts."

Gwen never sounds this warm. It’s actually surreal to hear her voice so excited in relation to your acting. So you must have done well. No, you must have done really fucking well. So you're not getting fired. Maybe Gwen just wants to congratulate you on a job well done, to say well done on not embarrassing the agency. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. And that’s saying something because rumor is Bravo can be hard to work with," Gwen observes shrewdly. 

"He was actually really helpful," you offer, feeling the need to come to his defense. "I had to rely on him for a lot and he really came through."

"That must be why the demo tested so well. I have to say I was pretty impressed myself."

"You saw it?"

"Of course. I need to know how my actors are performing."

An arrogant part of you wants to watch the footage, but another part doesn't want to bother. Its obvious that Dieter’s ex will have gotten the part and watching you act knowing there's no pay off seems wasteful. You need to focus on the next project, the next audition. 

"I'm glad I could represent you and the agency to your satisfaction," you say smiling. "It was really exciting to get in front of some big movers and shakers."

Gwen gives you a nod. "Well I just finished drawing up your final contract. So let's go over it tomorrow and we can talk next steps. Can you make it into the office?" 

"Contract?"

Your heart is pounding so loudly you can't hear anything else.

Ba boom ba boom.

Gwen is saying something but all you can hear is that quickening roar in your ears. The sound of blood rushing in them. You swallow shakily, looking at your reflection in the hallway mirror and see the elation in your brightness of your eyes. Suddenly you can hear everything. 

"Yeah. You got the part."

#dieter bravo #dieter x reader #pedro pascal dieter #pedro pascal characters #smut #fanfict #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal smut #acting #actor #actress #the bubble #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction

[massivedreamer]

Where do I sign for a membership to The Unfaithful Reed Richards Fanfic Whore Club?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #actors #reed richards #fantastic four #marvel #pedro pascal fanfiction

[pedritomosquito]

Wardrobe Malfunction

Summary: Bella feels awful in her form-fitting costume. Pedro and Craig swoop in.

Pairing: No Pairings, just Pedro & Bella

Word count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Gender dysphoria, panic attack

A/N: Bella did an interview where she said that she wore a binder for 90% of filming and that Pedro was the biggest supporter of it. This fic is how I imagine that conversation went down.

This is an incredibly self-indulgent fic written with little to no skill lol. I thought my fellow trans/non-binary/gender queer friends might find some solace in it, so I decided to post it anyway.

Bella walked back from the wardrobe department completely numb. 

In the previous episodes they’d shot, she always had multiple layers on. Usually an undershirt, a flannel, and a hoodie covered her frame, obscuring any details of her figure.

But now she was dressed in a snug long sleeve top.

She just nodded as they did the fitting, complacent with whatever choices they made. This was the outfit wardrobe wanted–what Craig and Neil wanted. She trusted them and letting them down wasn’t an option. She should really just get over it, despite the growing sickness pooling in her stomach.

She stood in her trailer, staring at her reflection, peering at herself from every angle. Her figure was soft and rounded in all the wrong places. She didn’t look like herself, her appearance too foreign. She was mismatched and her outside was incongruous with the rest of her. Everything was wrong. She couldn’t barely even explain what or why, but it was wrong . Maybe if she really slouched… No, that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t fucking enough . 

Her throat squeezed tight and she couldn’t bear it. The thought that this strange version of her was going to be permanently etched into television for everyone to see made her desperate. Without a single thought, she picked up a water bottle and chucked it at the mirror. The outburst didn’t supply any relief and she spun around, folding over herself like she could store her body away. 

She wrapped her arms so tightly around her chest, she could hardly breathe. She dropped to the floor and let the sobs overtake her. 

—----

Pedro checked his phone as he wandered over to Bella’s trailer to pick her up. They usually walked to set together and their lunch break was just about over. As he approached the door, he froze–there was crying coming from inside. 

“Bella?!” He knocked on the door and got no response, just hearing more cries. “I’m coming in, honey!” He warned her. He’d bust down the door if he had to. 

He swung the door open and stepped inside. He found her sitting in a heap on the floor, tears soaking her cheeks.

“Oh, Bellie,” He breathed. She finally looked up at him as he knelt down in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t answer. She didn’t know how to explain herself. She just cried harder, leaning towards him.

He sat down and pulled her into his arms.

“It’s okay, just breathe,” He tried, “It’s okay.” 

He didn’t know what could have made her that upset, but he can’t say he’s surprised. Bella was only nineteen years old and the stakes were unbelievably high for this project. The shooting schedule they had was brutal. He never could have handled the amount of stress she was under when he was nineteen.

He continued to reassure her, softly rubbing circles on her back. He waited until she had calmed down a bit before asking her to speak.

“What happened, Bella?” He asked gently.

“I feel wrong ,” She sobbed

Pedro’s frown deepened.

“What do you mean, honey?” He pulled away a bit to take a look at her, pushing back some stray hair that stuck to her tear tracks.

“I don’t feel like… myself… in this,” She replied, unlacing her arms and pulling at her shirt. “Millions of people are going to see me and I can’t–I just want my binder.” She hid her face against his shoulder, covering herself back up and letting more tears stream down her face.

“Bella,” He sighed, hugging her tight. “You don’t have to wear anything you don’t want to.”

“But this is what they want, it’s what Craig and Neil want,” She replied defeatedly, “It’s my job to give them what they want.”

“You don’t owe anything to anyone if it’s something that makes you uncomfortable with yourself,” He said, “And I can guarantee you Craig and Neil would never want you to feel like this. Did you talk to them about it?”

“I don’t want to be difficult,” She said.

“You’re not being difficult, not at all. It’s a simple costume change, honey. They change our wardrobe a hundred times before choosing something anyway, you know that.” He assured her. “Is it okay if I talk to Craig?” He asked, “And then we can talk to him together?”

She picked her head up, giving him a wary look.

“I’m not going to let you leave this trailer until you’re wearing something that makes you feel like you. I’ll be the ‘difficult’ one, okay?”

“Okay,” She nodded.

“Why don’t we get you on the couch?” He offered.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I ended up on the floor,” She apologized sheepishly.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” He replied, “Being on the hard floor is actually a great way to soothe your nervous system, sort of like a weighted blanket. You did it instinctually.” He explained as he helped her to her feet and guided her to sit on the sofa.

“How the hell do you know this stuff?”

“You overestimate my emotional stability, madam,” He joked, getting a giggle out of her. He got a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders so she could finally release her arms. He grabbed the fallen water bottle and retrieved some tissues, placing them next to her.

“I’ll be right back,” He smoothed her hair and gave her a little smile before stepping outside.

He spotted one of the PA’s and called after her.

“Cindy!” 

“Mr. Pascal, what can I do for you?” She asked, noting his serious expression.

“Can you let Craig know we need him in Bella’s trailer? It’s urgent.”

“Of course,” She replied. She pressed her walkie talkie. “Cindy to Matthew?”

“Go for Matthew,” a voice replied.

“I have Mr. Pascal here–he needs Mr. Maizin to Miss Ramsey’s trailer. It’s urgent.”

“Maizin to Ramsey’s trailer, got it,” The voice confirmed, “I’m getting him now.”

“Thank you so much, Cindy,” Pedro said.

“You’re welcome,” She replied, “I’ll make sure he gets here.”

Craig was a man on a mission when he was told Pedro and Bella were having some kind of emergency. It was less than two minutes before he was knocking on the trailer door.

“Pedro?” Craig called.

Pedro met him at the door and led him away, out of earshot of the trailer.

“You know what a chest binder is, right?” Pedro began.

Craig wasn’t sure what he expected this conversation to be about, but it definitely wasn’t this. Where was he going with this?

“Yes,” Craig replied.

“It wouldn’t be a problem if Bella wore one with her wardrobe, would it?”

“No, of course not,” He replied, “They can wear it if they want.”

“The poor thing, I found them absolutely hysterical over it,” Pedro explained sadly.

“Oh god, I had no idea,” Craig sighed. “Absolutely they can wear it. Are they doing okay now?”

“Yeah, I got them calmed down,” Pedro said.

“Alright, let’s go have a chat,” Craig replied.

Bella’s eyes looked up as they entered. Craig took in the sight of her, curled up on the couch in a blanket, eyes puffy and red. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, lip trembling. 

“Aw kiddo,” He swept over to her and sat down, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. “There is nothing to be sorry for. You can do whatever makes you feel comfortable with your costumes. You can absolutely wear a binder, or we could rework the whole outfit if that would be better, whatever you need. I didn’t even think to ask you about it. I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it, I just… I panicked,” she replied quietly.

“This is a big deal–it’s a big deal to us,” He said, looking to Pedro too, “You being uncomfortable is a big deal. Your well-being is more important than anything, you hear me?”

She nodded. 

“Do you have a binder with you?” Craig asked. 

She nodded again. 

“Okay. How about we break for a couple of hours, I want you to rest, alright?” He advised, “And then we can go to wardrobe together and get you fitted for some better costumes. That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” she said with relief. 

“You know you can always, always talk to me or Neil or Pedro about this kind of stuff, right?” Craig asked. “If you’re upset or uncomfortable with anything or even if you’re just not sure about something—please talk to us. We want to help.”

Her eyes start to water again. 

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you guys?”

“In passing,” Craig joked. 

“On occasion,” Pedro agreed.

Finally, they got a smile out of her. 

“Change into anything you want and relax for a bit,” Craig said, “I’ll come by at three to check on you, alright?”

“Alright,” she replied, another small smile on her face. 

Craig gave her shoulder a squeeze and a gentle playful tug on her ponytail. 

“See you later,” he said as he departed. 

“See you.”

“Where are your clothes baby girl?” He knew she would get a kick out of the nickname. 

Bella gives a mock gasp.

“Oh my goodness, did I just get blessed with a ‘baby girl?!’” She asked. “I’ll pitch a fit over my dysphoria more often if it means I get the full Joel experience!”

“You’re too much,” Pedro laughed. “Clothes?” He asked again. 

“Right, they’re in my bag,” She pointed at the blue duffle in the corner. 

He handed it over to her and he sat down facing away from her so she could change. 

“Okay,” She announced when she was finished. 

“Better?” He asked, turning around to look at her. 

“Better,” she dropped back down onto the couch. 

“You look wiped, honey. What do you think, do you want to take a nap?” He offered. 

“Mhm,” she nodded, getting comfortable and pulling the blanket back over herself. 

“Get some rest,” He said, getting up to leave.

“Stay?” She interrupted.

“Of course,” He smiled.

#pedro pascal #bella ramsey #actor rpf #fanfiction #tlou #the last of us

[evewritingsteve]

requests

i <3 being able to write your ideas! i have a few limitations, but trust me when i say i want to see it all. im a new blog so be patient while i work out the kinks ;)

what's happening

i will do any length of request (drabble, imagine, etc) but longer ones will take me longer to do! be as specific or as vague as you feel like, however the more detailed a request the more i can usually write.

i will do any type of request, angst, fluff, tropes, au's, smut, name it and i got it up in this little brain

i will write for pretty much any fandom, feel free to send an ask, or message me privately to see if i can write the character (or actor) you want! I aim to please.

i am working on setting up official commission stuff, but feel free to message me about any personalized works you may want and we can work something out!

DO

send me your little thoughts

send me your big thoughts

be nice to me im a broke college student and im doin this FOR FREE BRO

understand that unfortunately i have a life outside tumblr, it may take me 2 seconds to answer, it make take me 2 weeks. idk we gotta roll with it

my blog is a safe place, help me keep it that way plz (that was a threat)

ABSOLUTE NO'S

incest (plz no one should be writing incest)

that's all I can think of right now but I'm sure someone will make me add to this list lord help me

happy reading and thank you! muah

send a request ;)

#requests open #x reader #marvel x reader #fanfiction #abo dynamics #smut #smut x reader #fluff #fluff x reader #breaking bad x reader #death note x reader #stranger things x reader #pedro pascal x reader #actors x reader #supernatural x reader #monster x reader #dc x reader

[art-estrange]

I may or may not be accumulating a rec list????? But heres a story i found im not to sure if this user is on tumblr but its an AO3 Fic from pedros pov about an apocalypse breaking out and the reader being his only means of survival (not last of us)

I added a link but the red parts will also take you to the fic and the users AO3 page

#x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #i want me a pedrito🥺 #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #apocalypse #the last of us show #real life actor x reader #pedro pascal x you #x y/n #x you #the mandolarian #this is the way #san diego comic con #outbreak #not cordyseps #old man #bad knees #henry cavill x platonic!reader #millie bobby brown

[creedslove]

BETRAYED - PART TWO

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, Pedro being a dick

A/N: I'm so sorry but I can't manually tag anyone on the post, the app won't just let me do it!

1.6k words

PART ONE

When Pedro woke up in the next morning he knew he had screwed up. He knew he had screwed up bad. Though he barely remembered what had happened, he just had a gut feeling he'd screwed up. His head was pounding from his excessive drinking the night before and his back was sore, he groaned in pain as he shifted in bed and flashes of what happened the night before crossed his mind.

Clothes flying around the room, scattered on the floor, sloppy kisses, dirty touches, he had no idea how he'd look at you and tell you your night together didn't mean what you probably thought it meant. He swore to himself he wouldn't touch you, no matter how bad either of you might want, he knew he couldn't lead you into thinking you had a chance of anything romantically happening between you both. He sighed heavily before turning in bed and being shocked to see you were not the woman who was lying next to him.

If he hadn't slept with you, then, who did he sleep with? What was her name? He had no idea. The man cursed under his breath as the stranger slept deeply in his bed and grabbed his phone. He felt his heart pounding with anxiety, worried he'd done something embarrassing in public, but luckily, he hadn't. He was still the internet's sweetheart.

He let out a sigh of relief and managed to get out of bed, stumbling towards the bathroom and getting under the shower so he would clear his mind. The cold water poured over his naked body as he rested his forehead against the wall tile, he was definitely too old for that routine or partying, drinking, fucking. He shook his head as he replayed everything that happened the night before, from getting styled, to taking you to the gala, dancing with you, having a few drinks and then leaving with another woman. She got him horny, he was a man after all, he was single and he was free to be with whoever he wanted, so he decided to end his night with some female company. What was so bad about that?

But Pedro knew what was that bad about that. He simply ditched you for someone else, he already knew about your feelings and even if the two of you pretended it didn't exist, he was conscious enough to know it wasn't polite to make you go back home on your own because he'd found something better to do. As his towel hung wrapped around his waist, he checked his phone again, it explained why you hadn't replied to any of his drunk texts. He knew he'd play it cool and let you take your time.

Exiting the shower, he found the naked stranger in his bed, and god, she was gorgeous. She smiled at him, noticing how his gaze burned her skin. Pedro knew there was nothing he could do for Y/N at that moment, so he just shrugged and jumped into bed again, letting the woman tangle her legs around his body.

•••

You had a rough day as everything that happened insisted on being on your mind. No matter how much you tried to forget it or let it go, you were brought back to that night every time you closed your eyes. Your face still burned with the shame and humiliation you felt. Even if no one seemed to have noticed, you never felt so exposed to Pedro before. And you also couldn't believe the nerve he had to drunk text you during the night, he repeatedly asked if you'd arrived home safely, as if he cared about it at all. If he did, he wouldn't have told you to take an Uber home while he drove that skank back to his house, undressed her and fucked her all night long. You honestly felt sick to your stomach just to imagine him grabbing his phone to send you a text while she probably had her mouth or other holes busy with him. At that moment, you wanted to erase Pedro from your existence, and hoped he would give you a break, not wanting to face him at all.

However, it took him a week before he was again after you, he texted you at random hours during the day, always asking you if you wanted to facetime or hangout. It baffled you how he simply acted as if nothing happened and was unable to give you space when you clearly didn't want to be social. You always declined his invitations and though you still replied to his messages, anyone who had access to them could tell you were being nothing but polite and distant from him, because that's exactly what you wanted: distance.

Pedro on the other hand, just couldn't accept that, you out of every single person in the world would never do that, I mean, stay away from him? Not a chance. He knew you'd rather be by his side as a friend than be without him, and he wasn't afraid to admit he was that selfish. He didn't want you out of his life, even if he couldn't give you what you wanted, but at the same time, he couldn't sacrifice his freedom like meeting women because of you. So once again, he told himself he would accept your decision of having a break for him, but he wasn't going down without a fight.

Showing up at your job at the end of your shift was the solution he came up with. In his mind, it was the perfect plan. There were enough people so you'd be too shy to tell him off, but not crowded enough to drag everyone's attention.

You were just finishing your tasks with some of your co-workers when you saw him standing there. He was in his regular sweater, glasses on and a messy hair that showed he'd been out in the wind. He smiled sweetly, his warm brown eyes scanning the tight jeans you were and the high knee boots had on.

"Hey Y/N, can we talk?" He asked as if nothing had happened, he stared into your eyes with his puppy ones and slowly took both hands to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them gently.

"I missed you, mi cariño" he mixed the two languages knowing damn well how that made you weak at the knees.

You're heart raced and your breathing wasn't steady anymore, the butterflies got all agitated and you bit your lips, before reminding you it wasn't real, it was just one of his tricks, how Pedro learned to read you over time and used this on his favor.

You gently held his hands and took them away from your face "I'm sorry, I was busy" you gave him a lame excuse and he knew it was bullshit, but still, didn't care at all.

"It's okay, princesa, I wanted to see you… wanna go for a coffee?" He asked sweetly and frowned softly at your refusal. You had never said no to going out with him.

"I really can't, Pedro, I'm still in the middle of tasks here and I can't leave early" you half lied as you were indeed very busy but if it was any other occasion, you would always make time to him.

He sighed and took a step back "alright hermosa, just… stop by Saturday night, I'll have some friends over, it's our group and I'd really like to see you there, you know it is never the same without you" he said in a sweet way and said goodbye, leaning towards you and pecking your cheeks, dangerously close to your lips.

•••

Saturday arrived faster than you could tell, if you were excited about the dinner party the week would've probably dragged itself, but as you were still feeling awkward, in a blink of an eye, you found yourself checking your makeup in front of the mirror. You didn't take long to get dressed and knew you should get going, so you wouldn't be too late. You decided to take an Uber instead of driving, unsure of how much you'd drink. When your screen lit up, the first thing that drew your attention was the headline to some high profile gossip website that said

'Pedro Pascal seen with mysterious beauty blonde as he's out'

You felt your hand shake lightly and your whole body heat up again, clicking on the link and being redirected to the article that said he was spotted a couple of weeks ago walking down the street with the woman whom you immediately recognized as the skank from the party. The text said some fan recognized him and snapped a picture of the two while out for lunch but it only went viral on TikTok two weeks later.

You could see she was still wearing the same dress she did at the party which was an obvious proof they'd slept together and she didn't have spare clothes to change while he took her out for lunch.

He took her out for lunch. The son of a bitch had told you to go home by Uber late at night knowing you had drunk considerably and that could make you an easy target in case the driver or anyone else had bad intentions. And yet, he made sure to take her out for lunch and drive her home like a real gentleman.

You couldn't believe what you were reading, as angry tears blurred your eyes, you threw your phone onto the bed and began taking off your clothes. To hell with Pedro and his dinner party. Judging by his behavior in the last few weeks, there was a huge chance the skank would be there as well, and you would not humiliate yourself like that, not for him, not for anybody.

"Fuck you Pascal" you mumbled under your breath as you removed your makeup and turned off your phone.

-----

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed it!!! Part 3 is coming soon!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal angst #male actors #hot actors #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons

[avenging-fandoms]

slow makeouts with pedro after a big event🫣winding down after all that socializing maybe the reader and pedro just had a movie coming out with the two of them and people are loosing their minds about it asking if they’re together

Pedro Pascal Masterlist 1

Pedro Pascal Masterlist 2

You stood on the red carpet for your new movie and posed for the cameras. You moved down the carpet and saw an interviewer, greeting her hello and making small talk.

"So, I don't know how often you look on Twitter, but everyone seems to think that you and Pedro are a thing after watching this movie"

"Really? I guess that means we're just really good actors, right?" You wink and you both laugh. "I just play his girlfriend, Pedro and I get along very well. I think that's why people think we're together"

Thankfully the interviewer didn't ask anymore questions like that and you soon left, hearing a faint whistle. You turn around and smile, Pedro speed walking over to you and squeezing you tightly.

"You look gorgeous, mí amor. I wish we could go home now" He whispered and you laugh, rubbing his back and you two took pictures on the carpet together.

Pedro wasn't one for flaunting his relationship. He liked to keep it to himself so no one's opinions were coming at him or his partner. He got asked many questions about you and he just gushed about you, which added more fire to the flame of dating speculations.

You made it off the carpet, heading inside and beelining for the bar. You order a drink and wave hello to a few people. "You made it off the carpet, heading inside and beelining for the bar. You order a drink and wave hello to a few people. "I just cannot keep my eyes off of you. I find you in every single crowded room" Pedro's hand held your waist and you smile, giving him a proper hug.

"You look so wonderful in pink, honey" You eye him up and down and rub his bicep with your straw between your lips. "Would probably look better on our bedroom floor"

"Cool it, princesa. We're in public" you smile and Pedro returns one, rubbing your back. "Although it's very hard to not just take a bite of you right now" his voice was low, and his eyes were melting you away.

"Figuratively or literally?" You smirk and he laughs, biting your arm. "Ouch, Pey" you pout and rub over the area, Pedro laughing at the faint teeth marks. Pedro's love language was physical touch - and biting.

You two head into the theatre and everyone claps as the cast stood on the stage, a microphone being passed to everyone. "I would just like to start off, if that's okay" Pedro spoke and you look at him, nothing but love in your eyes. "I just wanted to say I am eternally grateful to have worked with such amazing people who became.. so special to me" His eyes met yours.

Suddenly it was just him in the room, and your eyes never left his face. He finished his speech and you clap with everyone else, letting other people get a chance to speak. It got to your turn and you took a deep breath. Even as an actor who had to speak in front of cameras, you still got very nervous on a microphone.

Pedro noticed you holding your stomach and placed a hand on your back, rubbing his thumb over your exposed skin and you smiled. "This cast.. this crew. You all have become my family, people who want love me no matter my faults or blooper reels" the room laughed and Pedro dropped his hand, standing a bit closer to you. "I'm grateful to be here, and I'm so thankful for everyone who helped bring this film to life"

You pass the microphone to the host and everyone claps and stands up, Pedro taking your hand and holding it up, the both of you looking at each other. You take his other hand and you both pretend to scream, making each other double over in laughter.

-

You were exhausted. Interviewers and even other actors asking about you and Pedro. Dancing with everyone, drinking and screaming in celebration. Now, you wanted to go home and lay in bed.

You got into the car first, closing the door and the driver did a circle around the building and you scooted to the far side of the car, the door opening again and in came Pedro. He waved and shut the door quickly, giggling at you hiding in the corner and the driver rolled up the partition.

"Windows are tinted, hermosa. Get over here" You smile and crawl over to Pedro, hand on his thigh with his finger under your chin as you kiss him slowly. "I've been wanting this all night, I've missed you"

"Yeah but don't forget you sneakily putting your hand on my thigh during that whole movie" Your fingers played with the curls on the back of his head.

"Can't help touching you" he shrugged and smiled, kissing you again with his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and drinking in every bit of you.

-

Pedro held your hand as you two walked inside your condo, a small number of cardboard boxes still scattered around the place as you and Pedro had just moved in almost 2 months ago. You both were crazy busy for weeks, but your cat, Cheese, didn't seem to mind all the boxes.

"Oh, look at this baby" Pedro laid softly next to the tabby cat and he chirped, pushing his head against Pedro's nose as he scratched behind his ear.

You laid on the other side of Cheese, running a hand down his back and kissing his head. "Don't worry, mommy and daddy aren't busy for another month so we're gonna make it up to you" You pitched your voice up and Pedro stared, taking a picture as you kissed your cat.

You followed the 2 year old to his dish, Pedro's eyes heavy as he sat up. You gave Cheese some food and squatted next to him, petting his back while he purred and chomped away.

You head back into the room where Pedro took off his belt and your hazy eyes watch every move of his fingers.

"Can you unzip me, Pedro?" He hums and you turn around. He pushes your hair over your shoulder, unzipping slowly until he reaches the bottom. His lips drag against your shoulder blades, making you stand up straight and lean into him.

Your dress falls as you both sway softly, his arm over your chest with your eyes closed. He kissed your jaw and you stood up, hanging up your dress and taking off your bra and underwear. You slid on Pedro's Purple Rain t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts, looking at Pedro who stood in front of the mirror with his shirt unbuttoned and tie loose around his shoulders.

If you weren't so tired, you would jump him right then and there. You head to the bathroom and took out all your clips and bobby pins, putting your hair up. You wash your face of your makeup and grab your toothbrush, Pedro tapping your butt as he walked passed you in his pajamas.

He also grabbed his toothbrush, giving you and himself some toothpaste. You both brush your teeth in silence and you lean against him, closing your eyes. He rubs your back as you spit out your toothpaste, then he does as well. You rinse out your mouths and head into bed.

Pedro turns off the light and you turn on your lamp. Pedro lays on his side with his back towards you and you gasp softly. You bite his shoulder and he yelps, turning over and tapping your forehead. "That hurt!"

"Payback" You giggle and he sighs, rubbing his hand over your cheeks a few times before resting it and rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. He pulls you in and kisses you softly, pulling away and pushing his nose up against yours.

"How many questions about us did you get?" You whisper and he rolls his eyes. "Every interviewer I met with asked about you and I for almost the whole interview"

"As much as I love to talk about you, I wish they would stop asking. This is why we don't want to go public for a while. Could you imagine if we confirmed it?" He mumbled, kissing you between words. "They would be up our asses even more"

"I like being your secret" you wink and his hand smooths over your hips, pulling you in as he kissed your neck. He hums as his hand falls underneath your shirt, rubbing your back slowly as your leg traps his hip.

Your fingers grip his hair as you kiss him slowly, his bicep flexing against your rib cage. He hums softly as he breathes out when you adjust your hips.

“You are a dream” he whispers and pushes his fingers into your back and dragging down your spine, making you arch your back. Pedro kissed your chest as you tilted your head back.

Your hand falls down his chest, over his ribs while pushing your foot to his. You place your head on his bicep and closed your eyes as he kissed your face softly.

“I love you, sweetheart” he mumbles into your hair and you smile, planting a kiss to his chest.

“I love you, Pedrito”

Pedro huffed as Cheese jumped on his side and you laugh, but not too hard so you scared Cheese.

You all settled into bed, your back against Pedro’s front with his arm underneath the pillow you laid on. Cheese laid against your stomach as your arm draped over him and rested your hand in Pedro’s palm.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal blurbs #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #rpf #actor rpf #real person fiction

[ourautumn86]

Your writing makes me feral. No pressure but I can’t stop thinking about coming home early from filming to surprise you and sees your sex toys out on the bed and he’s kinda jealous kinda mad because you promised him that you wouldn’t touch your self whilst he was away

a/n; OMG YESS, the spanking and the edging that would come afterwards..😮‍💨

a/n 2; i changed the ‘filming’ to working on his construction business. this fic is pre-outbreak! <3

okay this is pure filth, so minors dni!!!

joel miller x fem reader!

cw; 18+ content!, masturbation (r), use of toys, getting caught, angry sex, jealousy, name calling (slut, whore…), degradation, praising, daddy kink, punishment, spanking, dacryphilia (kinda?), choking, hair pulling, fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (guys wrap the dong up), cream pie, cock warming, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms…

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

you had promised joel that you would wait for him. but it was so fucking hard to wait when you had been separated for so long and you missed him so much…

he had had to go on a business trip for the construction of a new house up north, and it had been a long fucking week.

your job had been exhausting, and not having him at home made you feel so lonely it was eating you alive.

it didn’t help the fact that he looked and sounded so good when you’d call. he was so handsome, with his bear and mustache, his big nose and doe brown eyes…

you couldn’t think for too long about him or you’d start feeling needy, without letting your mind wonder to those nights were he’d make you cum with just his mouth and fingers. you had been so stressed that your body needed release, and without joel there, you couldn’t have it.

you weren’t supposed to have it. you had promised.

but you had to. your body was begging for it. and temptation was too strong. you couldn’t help yourself when your hands started to roam down your body. you had just came home from your job, and you were exhausted, your body tense —even if your recent call with joel had made you feel better—, due to some ungrateful and rude customers you had had to deal with.

a sigh left your lips when your hands found your chest, grabbing at your tits and teasing your nipples though your bra and shirt. god, it felt fucking amazing.

“joel…” you whimpered as you pulled down your pants and your panties to lay completely exposed. you shivered when your fingers met your wet and sticky cunt, ready to be filled.

you moaned as you softly and slowly started to press against your clit, sighing in pleasure. in your mind there was only joel, joel and his hands, joel and his lips, joel and his cock… how he’ll praise you when you’d take him whole, how he’ll eat you out when you most needed him…

you whimpered as you pushed your fingers inside, perfectly wet for your middle and ring to slip right in. you started to slowly fuck them in and out of you, moaning and arching your back. “please, fuck joel…” your fingers were not as thick and large as his, and you were quick to notice it, being unable to reach that perfect spot deep within your walls. “fuck.” you were about to break his second and most important rule: don’t to use your toys if he was not with you.

but you needed so bad to cum that you couldn’t care less, you’d make it quick, and then you’d place it everything back to place.

you took out your toy box, deciding to go for your big baby blue vibrator. you liked that one a lot because its girth was similar to joel’s cock, and because it also stimulated your clit at the same time.

you teased yourself as you slid it along your puffy lips, lubing it up, shivering when it would bump against your clit. you slowly pressed it against your entrance, and you let out a breathy moan as it finally started to fill you up inch by inch. it felt amazing, even more when you turned it on and the vibrations instantly hit your clit.

“fuck.” you whimpered. it had been a long time since you had touched yourself, and you were already so close to cumming it felt embarrassing.

your back arched as your mind got lost in the pleasure, your clit being stimulated making your thighs shake.

you touched and gripped your tits, imagining joel was there, that he was the one making you feel this good, that touched you and whispered all the right things onto your ear to bring you to your orgasm faster.

it didn’t take long before you were falling apart, your moans loud and pornographic, your walls clenching around the toy as you came all over it, staining it on white.

your breathing was ragged as you came down, your head lolling to the side and whole body going numb. it felt so good to finally blow up some steam, so good to finally be able to relax back onto your bed.

but not for long, ‘cause before you knew, the door to your apartment was being opened. you frowned, your face going white in panic when you heard joel’s voice call out for you. joel, your boyfriend who wasn’t supposed to come back ‘till a few days more, who had ordered you to not dare touch yourself, and who was nearing your bedroom.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you muttered under your breath, hissing when you pulled out your vibrator from your sensitive cunt, fumbling with your panties to pull them up your legs as you tried and save all the toys back inside the box, but it was too late.

“baby, are you-“ your body froze just as joel’s eyes found you, you and your messy hair, you and your naked legs, you and your messed up clothes and makeup, you and the toys you had promised you wouldn’t use without permission… “y/n.” he said your name, and your whole body shook.

“joel, i-“ you tried and explain but your mind was empty. you had gone blank.

“you touched yourself? even when you i told you not to?” you shivered when he took a step closer. your cheeks were red due to your recent orgasm, and your thighs still trembled.

“i’m sorry.” you whimpered when he closed the distance between you two. he looked pissed. “it’s just that i missed you so bad, and i’ve had such a hard week, i-“ you cried out when one of his rough and big hands wrapped around your neck, silencing you up.

“shut the fuck up.” he muttered, and you gulped, you could smell the scent of cigarettes on his breath. you’d missed it so much that your pussy was throbbing with need once again. ‘cause he looked so good when angry, and he was looking at you with those brown eyes that made you shake. “there’s no way out of this, baby, you know what you’ve done.” you whimpered when his grip tightened, his lips brushing yours. “you broke my rules, honey, and you know what that means. you’ve been a bad girl…” his free hand came to cup your jaw, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “and bad girls deserve punishments.” your cunt throbbed, a moan leaving your lips. “look at you.” he clicked his tongue. “you’re such a fucking slut. you wanted this, isn’t that right? wanted me to find out and punish you like the little whore you are.” you nodded your head, and you hissed when he pulled you closer by your neck. “speak up. what are you?”

“a bad girl.” you muttered against his lips, tears breaming your eyes. you needed him to kiss you. and now.

“and what do bad girls deserve?” his tongue dampened his lips.

“a punishment.” you answered, your cheeks glowing red.

“that’s it. atta girl.” he hummed, and you moaned. “now…” you almost whimpered when he let go of you, taking a seat on your bed. “you know what to do.”

you nodded, and with wobbly legs followed him, crawling on the bed and settling with your thighs and tummy on his lap, ass on full display for him.

you let out a sigh when you felt his hands massaging it, slapping slightly your skin and make you hiss.

“how many times did you cum, huh?” he inquired, and you took a hold on the sheets, relaxing, ‘cause you knew that if you didn’t it would hurt more.

“once, joel, please…” you cried out when a harsh spank came down on your ass, making you jolt.

“you know bad girls can’t call me that, baby. what do bad girls call me?” he inquired, soothing the sting with his palm. “answer me.” he ordered and spanked you once again.

“daddy!” you cried out, and he hummed.

“that’s it. see? that wasn’t that difficult, hm?” you gasped when he ripped the lace apart with his fingers, throwing away your underwear and leaving you bare from your waist down on his lap. “gonna spank you 15 times. you think that would be enough for a slut like you to remember the rules?” he inquired, and when you didn’t answer, he tugged on your hair, bringing your face upwards so you’d look at him. “words.”

“yes, yes daddy.” you muttered, tears already wetting your eyes.

“aw, don’t cry so soon, baby, i haven’t even started yet.” he sarcastically pouted, and let go of you, making your head fall back onto the bed. “you’re gonna be a good girl and count for me out loud. if you miss, i will start over, am i clear?” you nodded, and were quick to answer as well.

“yes, daddy.” you whimpered when he didn’t waste any time, his palm harshly landing on your ass, leaving the skin behind hurt and buzzing. “one…” you struggled to say, your voice barely a mere whisper, all cracked and frail.

the tears started to fall when you got to five, screaming when the sixth came down a little too hard.

“s-six, shit…”

“look at that. you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” you gasped for air when his fingers dipped on your cunt, sticky and dripping in slick, your inner thighs already wet. you were so needy just for him, throbbing for his touch, even if it hurt. “such a fucking slut.” he landed three on one go, and you gripped the sheets, crying and messing them up with your mascara. “i don’t hear you counting.”

“nine!” you quickly said at the threat on his voice.

six to go.

the tenth and eleventh came down making you whimper on pain and move on your spot, his free hand pinning you against his lap.

“don’t fucking move.” he spanked you again, leaving you breathless and shaking.

“thirteen.” you breathed out, stumbling all over your words, stuttering.

“you’re doing good, baby, so good counting for me and taking it…” you whined at the next spank, his palm lingering on your red and irritated skin. you counted, and he hummed. “just two more. two more baby girl.”

and you took them, took them the best you could, your body jerking and trembling on his lap when the last spank came down against your ass, making you moan.

your felt dizzy and heavy, but so fucking horny that you didn’t wait to push against his hand when he cupped your wet glistening cunt.

“fuck, you’re so wet baby…” you cried out when he pushed two of his thick fingers inside, sliding easily due to your arousal. “listen to her. she missed me, huh?” he smirked at the sounds that your cunt was making.

you moaned. “daddy, please…”

“shut up. i’m not done.” you whimpered when he started to fuck them in and out of you, making you shiver and curl on his lap, your clit grinding against his soaked jeans. “gotta take my fingers. and then i’m gonna fuck you, baby.” you moaned at his words, nodding your head and begging for it. ‘yes please, daddy, please…’ “but you won’t come.” you cried at that, tears falling down your cheeks when he pressed against your g spot. “i’m sorry baby, but bad girls don’t get to cum.”

your breath left your lungs when he flipped you on your back, and quickly fumbled with his pants and underwear to throw them aside, standing before you with his big and thick cock beaded in precum. you couldn’t help but moan when you saw him tug from it, his hand surrounding it to pump it, making his red and thick head shine, the veins on the sides to pop. your mouth was watering.

he parted your legs and sighed. “such a shame…” he shook his head, his eyes on your pretty and soaking cunt. “if you only had been a good girl for me, i’d be eating you out right now, honey, making you feel so good…” your body jerked when he pressed the tip along your folds, bumping it against your clit. “but since you went ahead and used your toys…, i guess i’ll have to do the same.” your mouth fell on a moan that was silenced with his hand choking you when he pushed himself inside to the hilt without warning. “fuck.” he cursed. he had missed your pussy so much. “gonna have to use you like a little toy, baby.” he falsely pouted, and you whimpered when he started to rock into you, his tip brushing your cervix. his harshness and speed was making your eyes roll backwards, your nails dig on his forearms and moans leave your mouth. “use you like the little cum dump that you are, fill you up and leave you dripping for me.”

“daddy…” you moaned, he was hitting your g spot over and over again, stretching your cunt open, ripping you apart. but it felt so good… “please, don’t stop.” you begged and he grunted, his grip tightening around your neck.

“fucking slut, begging for it.” he muttered on your neck, harshly sucking bruises on your skin that you’ll proudly wear tomorrow, marking you as his. “you want my cum that bad, baby?” you nodded.

“yes, please daddy, please, need it, need your cum…” your hips were moving against his, trying to make him reach deeper, fuck you harder.

and he did.

“fuck!” you screamed, his pace unrelenting, fucking your brains out and quickly making your second orgasm build. your walls tightened around his cock, sucking him in, the slapping of his balls against your ass filling the room along with his grunts and your whimpers. “need to cum, gonna cum daddy!”

“aw, you need to cum? too bad baby, you can’t. ” he smirked, fucking you harder, feeling your walls milking him dry. you cried out, trying to hold it in even if your mind was going blank and your vision was blurry with tears. “fuck, you’re so tight. so good for me…” you moaned, the oxygen lacking on your lungs due to the grip he had on your neck.

it was impossible, impossible to not cum.

“daddy, i’m cumming! please!” your thighs were shaking, and his fingers against your clit weren’t helping you to try and not soak his cock.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he spat, and his thrusts started to falter. he too was too close to cumming… he couldn’t help it. not when you looked so good under him, crying for him to let you cum, to fill your cunt. “shit, gonna cum.” he groaned against your chest, bra now exposed that he had pulled your shirt up to suck on your tits.

“inside please, want it inside…” you muttered, and moaned when you felt his cock twitch. he groaned, and with one last harsh and deep thrust filled you up with his cum, stopping his movements just when you were about to reach your own orgasm and leaving you whimpering and begging for him to continue, whispering and promising that you’d be good. that you needed him.

“shhh, i know, baby, i know…” he cooed, brushing your hair in between his fingers when he pulled you against his chest and on his lap. “did so good for me, such a good girl…” you whimpered, his softening dick sitting comfortably inside of you, not letting a single drop of his cum get out.

your whole body was tense, and even if you tried to change his mind, he wouldn’t let you cum ‘til the next morning, after making you cock warm him through the whole night, his hands every now and then pulling you and rocking you against his semi hard cock just to watch you suffer, to brand in your head this lesson.

and when the morning finally came, he made you cum over and over again, until you were begging him to stop. but he wouldn’t, not until you wouldn’t cum anymore. ‘cause he had to make you understand that those fucking toys would never fuck you like he could. love you like he could.

a/n; y’all… i have no words. i’m going to hell.

pedro pascal masterlist! <3

xx

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#dan! writes ♱ #pedro pascal actor #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #tlou fic #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou show #tlou #tlou imagine

[thickania]

I'm going to try to be as nice as I can. If you are having full on meltdowns and panic attacks because Chris Evans got married, please seek out for a psychiatrist. And if you consume so much media, if your life revolves around a celebrity to that extent, turn off the computer, lay off the fanfic, stop consuming media with them, stop consuming fanfiction. Just stop it.

Chris didn't sell you any fake image, the fans who were here before marvel, we knew about his frat guy personality, he openly talked about what part of a woman's body he found it attractive, he openly talked about how he's always thinking inappropriate jokes, y'all made a imaginary version of him, and then got upset when he didn't fit that image. People are not a piece of paper, they are multifaced, he can easily be a party frag guy and a family guy. It's not an impossible thing,

I'm not trying to be mean, I'm genuinely worried for some of y'all. I'm going to tag this with every male celebrity with a heavy female audience and fanatics that I can think of, because it's becoming ridiculous and scary.

I was here in the 2010s, when fandom was at one of its peaks, I saw girls leaking each other's address because of fandom wars, I had my number leaked, just because I made fun of One Direction at the time, I saw girls stepping over each other at events just to get a peak of their favorite singer or actor, y'all are acting just the same, but this time is way worse, because a lot of you are full grown ass adults. I saw people threatening to hurt themselves because of this marriage. I heard that Pedro Pascal was stalked a few weeks ago, people are having public meltdowns because of Timothée Chalamet, there's still people stalking Henry's girlfriend. There are still people dissecting every single move that Zawe does. Seek professional help. Stop consuming fanfiction, don't just decrease the quantity, stop consuming it for at least 3 months.

I don't know when y'all will understand they are actors, singers, models, they are here to sell a product so we can consume their product. We can enjoy a little harmless fun sometimes, we can imagine what it would be like to be next to them, or date them, be their friend, we can imagine that, but there's a point where you have to back up, rethink your life choices and see what's missing in your life. Please seek help, immediately

#Chris Evans #pedro pascal #sebastian stan #Henry Cavill #timothée chalamet #harry styles #Tom Hiddleston #Alba... girl good luck and I'm so sorry #yall need help #and yall need jesus #get help #immediately #also stop infantalizing women #shes 26 #shes not a baby

[nerdieforpedro]

🦴

🍓

🥤

Please!

🦴 = a piece of media that inspires my writing?

Not really one set piece. More like music in general does. I often listen to lofi beats when writing or my writing playlist to set the mood of what I’m trying to write. Or it could be music I’m listening to in the car or waiting somewhere could lead to some bullet points that become a fic. 😆

🍓= what led me to write fanfic in the first place?

Going deep here aren’t you Em? 👀 lol I’ve enjoyed writing since I was little as an extension of my love of reading. First with poems and the anime fanfiction when I actually watch more anime. Now I read more manga and don’t write fanfiction about it. If one squints on A03 - I may have dabbled in Marvel characters and actors for a short time. 🫢 The took a long pause as life happened. Sometime last year as my mental health improved so did my love of writing and I hyper focused on Pedro Pascal so here we are. 🤣 I write more the better my mood is. Maybe a bit too much background 😵

🥤= recommend and author or fic you love

Ugh just one? Dammit. 😒 I shall not! I’ll do eight because there are no favorites! Only peeps we support! And I can’t really call any of them number one I enjoy them all too much. 🥰

1. @morallyinept Pretty much anything you read of Jett’s will be beautiful, sensual, take you to a far away place or have needing to remove clothing - possibly from reading the same fic. 😆 She covers a wide variety of Pedro characters and is a wealth of knowledge on them. She also is just really talented and sweet.

2. @maggiemayhemnj Sure Ms. Payday doesn’t have a long Masterlist but every fic on there is worth reading for her turns of phases, vivid descriptions and her love of both Joel and Ezra. 💕

3. @megamindsecretlair One of my fellow black writers who keeps readers thirsty and eager for more with her Sam, Bucky and Loki series (all of which I need to catch up on or finish 👀) and is a hilarious person as she is kind.

4. @soft-girl-musings Another fellow black writer who’s “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” 1920’s or 40’s (I’m not great with telling time obviously 🙄 ) has me wondering what’s going to happen next, what is going on in that club and where else am I going to see curly haired Marcello is going to pop up at. 🤣

5. @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin The Mistress of Agnst. Her masterlist is for those who aren’t afraid to explore the darker side and stories that may not have happy endings but you’ll still feel satisfied that to finished it. To feel another type of satisfaction, you’ll need to read her smut and seek your other completion there. ☺️ You’ll be thankful for both rides.

6. @pedroshotwifey A newer moot to me who has equal parts smut, agnst and dabs of darkness in there. What can I say? I like dark fics if they’re just right. Like I like my crime dramas and cop procederals. 🤣 She and I have a good time supporting each other and exchanging thots. Her “To The Flame” series has set the reader up for what may be a spectacular fall or maybe she’ll find her way out? Only she knows.

7. @magpiepills Ezra’s second wife (because @morallyinept is his first wife and I think @maggiemayhemnj is the paramour - because it sounds fancy) The amount of filthy things she’s had him do both with one arm and two is something everyone should read twice. I also especially enjoyed her fic “Aquarius” which a whore version of Javier Peña that spoke strongly to me. Or maybe parts of me, let’s not split hairs. 🤭

8. @angelofsmalldeath-codeine She’ll say she’s not a writer. BUT as all writers know, we don’t do very well if someone isn’t reading stuff we toss out into the ether. Hemmy is as supportive as they come, reblogging and offering many a thot as both the High Chancellor of the Horny Delegation and as a friend. ❤️ Plus she supports my very soft bois Dieter and Javi G. 😆 She I think was one of the main reasons I wrote more of “Weddings 101 with Dieter.” She asked me something along the lines of, “is there more to this? This is a very cool or unique premise.” As she well knows, just tell me I did something well and I’m happy as a pearl in a clam. 🤣

Fanfic author ask game

Thanks for the ask Em! Just know I pretty much write paragraphs because I gotta explain. 🤭 I’m Nerdie and I’m wordy. 😚 I had to make one bad joke. You have to be able to tell it’s me.

#fanfic authors #fanfic author ask game #fanfiction #such fun #i wanted to make sure I answered as best I could #there’s so many more writers I could mention #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

[communistkenobi]

like I remember when i committed the grievous crime of saying that pedro pascal self insert fanfiction was both racist and annoying and for the next two weeks it became very clear to me that there was a group chat of some kind coordinating like half the self-insert fandom so they could all send me suibait and essay length anons about how I’m destroying the star wars fandom and censoring queer women and oppressing them from exercising their god-given right to be insanely racist and xenophobic on the internet because they were compelled to write dogshit self insert smut about an actor they loved to sexually harass on twitter, and I couldn’t get away from it no matter how many people I blocked or tags I blacklisted because these people would also constantly use my mando gifs on their posts so I would get notifications at least once a week that someone had added my gif to their fanfiction post and it was always titled some bullshit like din fingers you while you’re on your period🥴🥵 AN: hiiiii everyone the reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab but it’s vague enough to be inclusive to all women haha. anyway isnt pedro soooo hot and (insert slur against latinos that was invented in the 70s). and these people would not leave me alone and even sent vaguely threatening anons to the star wars charity zine I was running with mutuals. in conclusion yes this website has hate mail the likes of which you cannot even imagine and no it’s generally not that funny to be on the receiving end of it

#racism tw #and this is a mild case! so many mutuals get harassed by the same people #anyway struck a nerve lol. hope op of the previous post is doing ok #also I know pedro is white but these people were figuring out ways to be insanely racist and xenophobic. two for one deal

[wannab-urs]

Gin's 2023 sappy post

It's hard for me to believe that at the beginning of this year, I didn't know a single one of my best friends in the world existed. But it's true!

How we got here

I'm not quite sure exactly when I started looking up Pedro Pascal on Tumblr, but it was sometime after February. I'd watched Game of Thrones and Oberyn was my favorite character, but I was in one of my periods of not being on Tumblr (I've had this account for about 10 years, but it's seen many fandoms and I haven't always been active).

I watched the first few episodes of The Last of Us that had come out - I was 3 episodes behind I think - and immediately looked up Joel Miller on Tumblr. How could I not? Anyway, give me ten minutes on this hellsite and a middle aged man with a huge imdb and watch me develop a hyperfixation.

So then I looked up interviews. I watched basically every interview this man ever did, but I remember that the Lie Detector interview and his appearance on the Talk Easy podcast are really what did me in. I went from admiring this man as an actor and thinking he's pretty to basically being in love with him.

Anyways....

I didn't mean to start reading fanfic? I come from the world of Destiel on AO3. I never wrote it, I just read copious amounts of it. I'd never read reader insert, much less straight reader insert, and I'd never written a word of anything even resembling a fanfiction.

But I found @prolix-yuy, @frannyzooey, @joelscruff, @fuckyeahdindjarin, and @ezrasbirdie (check the spreadsheet, y'all are at the very top!) and I was hooked.

Then I read Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat and Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried and was inspired to parade my trauma around in a Dieter shaped trench coat: AGOY was born.

@beskarandblasters is the first person I really talked to on here. In fact, Kel is the one who introduced me to most of my friends on here. And we've been harassing each other on the daily since. I hope to 🦵 her in real life someday soon ❤️. I love you, bitch. You mean the world to me.

I could never ever ever list all of my dear friends I've made on here. Seriously, there are so many of you that mean the world to me. But I'm gonna list a few.

My cannibal crew @pr0ximamidnight and @atinylittlepain, without whom Love as Violence Dave (starving season), Head up his Ass Javi (in the a.m.), and the later editions of loser druggie Dieter (AGOY) would not exist - or at least they wouldn't be as good as they are.

My darling soup snake, the loml, my spider twin, my forever partner in making bitches cry (it's us, we're bitches, making each other cry in an endless loop) @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. #1 AGOY stan forever, you may love my own magnum opus more than I love it. Thanks for listening to me scream about every pedro boy on the planet and thanks for screaming right back at me. I love you.

The random college student I found by accident, decided to take under my wing, and then was subsequently taken under their wing bc it turns out they have more fandom experience and life advice than I can ever hope to have @idolatrybarbie. Bea, my darling, thanks for always letting me bitch, for showing me fics I never thought I'd be into (The Santa Claus AU Frankie Morales Free Use Kink, anyone) but that I often was into, for encouraging my writing, and for being fucking real with me.

The pedrostories crew, but especially @pedrorascal - I love screaming about Pedro with you at... 2:30 in the morning my time (we love time zones!). Thanks for letting me be a terrible mod for your fic archive blog and never getting mad at me for not doing my job. And for being a wonderful, kind, amazing person all the fucking time.

I'm being so serious when I say I could list at least 20 more people. People who brightened my day with a reblog or a message. Or who wrote a fic I still think about at least once a week. Or who made a gifset that is permanently etched into my brain. People I talked to in discords and most likely trauma dumped on and they listened and they cared and they let me hold their trauma in return. I love you guys so fucking much.

Conclusion

I never could have imagined I'd be a writer and run a fic rec blog at 24. Especially not for Pedro Pascal Characters. But here we are -- and I can honestly say it has been the highlight of my year. And I bought a house this year.

I have so many new friends and a new hobby (I never wrote at all before this) just because I wanted to Fuck That Old Man. Incredible.

#gin is being sappy #i love y'all