#pedro pascal rpf

[whiskeyncoke-redux]

I’ve always thought it would be fun to be a seat-filler at award shows, and now I can’t stop thinking about sitting next to a flirty Pedro Pascal.. (especially since they say you aren’t supposed to talk to the actors!)

The idea of him introducing himself (as if he isn’t a famous actor), sharing candy he snuck in with you or trying to make you laugh while on air and having to shoo away the award show employees that try to intervene. Him just being smitten with reader the whole night.. okay, I’d *love* to hear your take if it interests you!

Hi Nonny dearest, sorry it took me so long to respond, I just had to get my thoughts together because I LOVED this idea so much!! So here we go, hope you like it.

The Seat Filler

Pedro Pascal x Reader

A/N: here's another one, hope you all like it. No hateful comments please. Again I gotta shout out @ziggyrocket for the support ❤️. It's 6:32 in the morning, apparently I don't sleep like a normal person, I'm on my second cup of coffee, so any typos or whatever are my bad... and Maxwell house coffee's.

Warnings: none (well, corny jokes I guess)

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

You had signed up for this gig half on a dare and half out of curiosity. Being a new sign-up, you hadn’t expected to be called in right away, but yet, here you were, in a borrowed gown, in a theater mixed with some of the biggest stars and regular people just like you: seat fillers. 

You remembered the main rules the director told you: 1) look like you’re enjoying yourself, always smile and 2) most importantly DO NOT talk to the actors, meaning the actual celebrities. You nodded and murmured your understanding along with everyone else who was there to work as fillers, not really thinking anything of it. What celebrity would want to talk to me anyway? You mused as you took your seat.

You looked around the theater, excitement flooding through you at the idea of being in such a place surrounded by people you had admired from afar, in magazines, and online. You took a deep breath to steady yourself; you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. You glanced at the empty seat next to you on your left and wondered who’d be in it.  On your right was another filler and on their right was another empty seat.

The filler next to you leaned over slightly and whispered, “Who do you think they’re gonna put next to us?”

You shrugged. “No idea, hope it’s someone good.”

He nodded in agreement, then a look came over his face as he glanced over your shoulder.  You turned your head to look and you blinked hard as you recognized the man coming towards you, and taking the vacant seat next to you. While the man next to you was busy getting settled,  you glanced back over at your fellow seat filler, whose jaw had semi-dropped. You both exchanged excited looks, then you nudged him lightly with your elbow and he shook himself, cleared his throat lightly and sat up. You both faced forward, determined to be on your best behavior. 

Unfortunately for you, your newest seat mate had different ideas. Pedro knew the whole deal with seat fillers and how they were told not to speak to anyone. But he felt a mischievous streak go through him when he saw you glance at him briefly. 

“Hi,” he said, taking his seat. “I’m Pedro Pascal.”

“Hi,” you said back, nervously glancing around to make sure that no one saw you speaking to him. 

The two of you smiled at each other, before you turned back to face the front. He took a few seconds to study your profile as you sat there, determinedly facing the front, sitting as still as a statue. 

He glanced down and saw that your elbow was resting on the shared arm rest. With a small smirk, he placed his on the arm rest too, bumping yours. 

You looked over at him, smiled awkwardly and whispered a hurried, “Sorry,” before moving your arm and facing forward again.

After a few minutes, you placed your elbow back on the arm rest, and, noticing that, Pedro, bumped your elbow again with his. You moved your arm again. And then a few more minutes later, you placed it back again, only for him to bump you again. After the fourth time this happened, you looked over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow and he just smiled innocently at you.

A few minutes later you felt him shift next to you, you looked over and saw him pulling out a bag of Skittles. You tried to hide your smile, but he noticed and nudged you slightly and offered you some. You looked around, making sure that there was no one watching, and then you held open your palm and he shook some of the candies into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered and popped a few into your mouth. 

A little over an hour into the show, you could feel him getting restless next to you. You figured the sugar had gotten to him. After the Skittles, he had pulled out a candy bar, broke it in half and shared it with you. He fidgeted in his seat, tapping his fingers on his knee and the seat. You tried to ignore it, but you had to admit it was more than a little distracting.

“Are you okay?” you whispered hurriedly to him.

He turned to you and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you though?” you asked, gesturing to his jiggling knee.

He smiled. “Yeah.” But his knee kept jiggling, you had to suppress a laugh at that. 

He noticed you struggling to keep a straight face, and decided to aim the restless energy he had at you. He was going to make you laugh, really laugh, by the end of the show. His mind was made up.

He thought for a moment and then he leaned over to you, “Psst, hey.”

“Yeah?” you answered looking straight ahead.

“I have a question.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Why did the bicycle fall over?”

You were confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I said: why did the bicycle fall over?”

“Uhh, I don’t know. Why?”

“Because it was two tired.”

You turned to look at him after that, he laughed at the look on your face.

“That was corny,” you said, shaking your head, but pursing your lips to keep from laughing.

“Oh, that reminds me of another one,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. He looked around,  cleared his throat, and then asked, “What does corn say when it gets a compliment?”

You shook your head and shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to say anything but wanting to hear the punchline, you turned to him.

Barely able to suppress his giggles, he answered,”Aw, shucks!”

You put your hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the laugh you felt escaping your lips.

“Okay, one more,” he announced. 

“Oh, lord,” you groaned.

“It’s a good one, I promise.”

You waved your hand slightly for him to go ahead, knowing he would anyway.

“Okay, why are pirates called pirates?”

You bit your lip trying not to laugh. “I don’t know why?”

He leaned closer. “They just arrrr!” he whispered the last word in a bad pirate accent. 

You couldn’t help it, you snorted, then quickly covered your mouth to stifle your giggles, but he’d heard it, and he smiled at that.

“Good one right?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, oh my god, that was bad, but…” you couldn’t finish as a fresh wave of giggles overtook you. Your shoulders shook with your suppressed laughter.

He smiled and laughed along with you. For the rest of the ceremony, he would lean over and whisper comments about one person’s speech, or another’s outfit, nothing malicious or mean, just something to make you smile. And he always had a bad joke or two to whisper to you. 

By the end of the program, your cheeks were hurting from all the smiling and your stomach was sore from the laughing. You couldn’t help it, a few had escaped, luckily it was during the jokes the emcee told, so it looked as if you were enjoying the show. Truth be told, you couldn’t remember what had happened during the show, or who had won which award. If someone had quizzed you on it after, you surely would have failed; but you felt it was worth it because being seated next to Pedro had made it the best night of your life. You hadn’t laughed that hard, or enjoyed yourself that much in a long time.

After the show was over, you headed out with your fellow seat filler.

“You seemed to really be enjoying yourself,” he said as you filed out into the lobby.

You nodded with a huge grin on your face. “Yeah, I did.”

“I could tell,” he said, nodding, “what was he saying to you to make you laugh so much?”

You shrugged. “Oh, just a few jokes, and comments that’s all,” you said lightly.

He looked at you curiously, but when he realized you weren’t going to elaborate he commented, “Lucky you. The one they put next to me was on her phone the entire time.” He shook his head. “At least you got some entertainment.”

You two chatted for a little more, making plans to grab a late dinner with him and some of the rest of the seat fillers. Before you could leave, however, you felt someone tap you on your shoulder.

“Okay, I have another one,” you heard Pedro’s voice in your ear before you could turn around. “Just thought of it.”

You looked at him. “All right, go on.”

“Which bear is the most condescending?”

You started laughing then answered, “what?”

“A pan-duh!”

You burst out laughing along with him. “Where on earth did you even hear these?”

He shrugged. “Internet.”

“They are so bad,” you said, still chuckling.

“And yet, you laughed. Therefore they did their job,” he pointed out.

“True enough,” you agreed, “thanks though.”

“For what?”

“Making this event… well, eventful. I was prepared to be bored out of my mind, sitting there like a statue, smiling a fake smile the entire night.”

He smiled at you. “Well, I’m glad I could help. So, what are you planning on doing after this?”

You shrugged. “I was gonna grab something to eat with some of the rest of the seat fillers…”

“Oh, okay, I'm doing the same.” He nodded and looked away. You noticed that for a second he looked slightly nervous, but before you could get a good look, his face cleared and he turned back to look at you.

“I guess I should let you go then…” you said, turning to catch up with your friends.

“Wait, one more question.”

You stopped and looked back at him. “What's up?”

“Well, you know, I have a lot more jokes…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, and, well, all my friends and family have heard them. But you haven’t, at least I’m pretty sure you haven’t….”

You nodded. “I haven’t, I don’t think.”

“Good, well, I shall have to inflict them upon you, you know, if you don’t mind. Maybe over dinner tomorrow?”

You thought for a second. “I don’t mind at all,” you answered with a huge grin.

#ask #answered #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ficlet #pedro pascal rpf #rpf #javier peña #din djarin #joel miller #frankie catfish morales #whiskey writes

[f10werfae]

Mi Princesa

pairing: Sugar Daddy!Pedro Pascal x Pregnant!Reader

summary: Some morning loving with Pedro Pascal and his very pregnant wife, and maybe a little spice in the shower (DILF Warning ) Disclaimer 18+

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶

Full Masterlist, Pedro Pascal Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Good morning mi princesa, and good morning mi amor” Pedro whispered bending down to kiss his wife’s 6 month bump, the coldness of his wedding ring making her flinch. “Baby, ya woke her up” She whined feeling the small fluttery kicks erupt at the tip of her stomach, her eyes still closed but her lips already aiming for Pedro’s, giving him one hell of a wet kiss. “I’m sorry baby, daddy wanted to talk to his princesa” He whispered gruffly, one of his hands sneaking up her sleep shirt to cup and squeeze at one of her swollen breasts, massaging it softly.

“Eh? What about your other princesa?” Y/n winked biting her lip, softly moaning at the feeling of his cold hands on her tits, he was always so gentle with her; almost as if she was made of glass. “Mm can’t forget about her, but you’ve been upgraded baby, tú eres mi reina”

“Hmm sounds sexy what does it mean?” Tracing the side of his face she felt his hand fall back down to her rounded stomach, a habit he had picked up over the past few weeks, along with the belly kisses and telling his baby-girl stories. “Means you’re my reina, my queen, and this little girl, is our princesa”

“God could you get any sweeter, sexier and even more handsome Pedro” She squealed using her energy to hoist herself up to straddle him, even with her stomach in the way, she leant down as best as possible to pepper kisses all over his neck; giggling once she felt his hand on her ass, softly drumming against it with his hand. “Oh shit, I may have peed a little” She said suddenly sitting up, knowing damn well how much her precious princess loves using her bladder as a cushion, sending her to the toilet multiple times an hour.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your waddle?” Pedro whistled watching her speed waddle into the toilet, a hand on the small of her back as she sent a glare his way, sticking her tongue out at him. “ah baby don’t get like that with me, I can’t stand it when mi reina gives me that face” Pedro sighed springing himself out of the cotton sheets, following his wife like a cute little puppy, just watching her wash her hands and brush her teeth. “Stop giving me those eyes, Mr Pascal” She warned spitting out the rest of her water, reaching behind him to pull on the water heater,

“What eyes Mrs. Pascal? The eyes you fell in love with? The eyes you look into while-“

“Yes yes, those eyes, now help me” She smiled widely holding both hands up in the air, watching on as Pedro pulled his shirt off her body, hearing him wolf whistle once he saw her nude body; acting as if they hadn’t been going at it like rabbits due to her raging hormones. “Come on daddy, don’t ya wanna shower with the mommy?” She smirked slowly stepping into the shower, her hands rubbing over her stomach as she tilted her head cutely, knowing damn well what it did to her sugar daddy husband.

“Mierda, the things you do to me woman” He groaned quickly ridding himself of his shorts and t-shirt, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist to bring her side flush against his chest, the gruff of his facial hair softly scratching against the top of her head. He could practically feel the heat coming from her wet centre the more he felt up her wet body, taking his sweet time to kiss and grab at all his favourite spots (which was basically everywhere) Taking his time to kiss at her breasts, her stomach, her arms, even bending down to kiss at her thighs.

“Please Pedro, you know what you’re doing, s’not fair” She sighed stomping her foot lightly, furrowing her brows as his tongue licked stripes up her neck and into her mouth; causing her to moan into his hot wet open mouth. “I need you daddy, please” She whined using the nickname that started their relationship in the first place, on that dodgy sugar baby site. Her hand leading his down to her already swollen clit, directing his fingers to rub slow soft circles on her button.

“I’ve got you mi vida, got to help my princesa’s mama, mi reina” He whispered kissing her lips then her cheek, his fingers moving at a steady pace as he felt her grasp onto his forearms for balance, her forehead leaning against his chest.

“I-i’m close baby, so so close” She whispered kissing his pec, gasping when she felt his fingers sort through her holds, swiftly inserting a finger into her snug hole; with one finger at her clit simultaneously. “Let go for me mama, i’m right here, let go for me gorgeous girl” He sighed against her temple, feeling her clench onto one of his fingers as she shook against him; her legs slightly trembling. “Good girl baby, feel and taste you so good” Rubbing her folds gently to let her ride her high, he slowly removed his hands, licking them clean as he looked into her eyes.

“You’re crazy Pedro, but I love you so much for it” She breathed out, clearly out of breath, her body fully leaning onto his for support; before wincing again when she felt an extra strong kick being delivered to her ribs, her little girl was finally awake again. Pedro’s hands immediately rushing to her stomach, shushing his little baby at the same time, he was in awe at her sheer strength. His lips meeting the stretch marks on his wife’s belly, his eyes marvelled in awe at how beautifully they were spread on her skin, the marks telling a story of how she was carrying his baby, their baby. Their princesa

“mi princesa, no le hagas daño a tu madre, she takes such good care of you, making sure you’re safe and healthy in her amazing beautiful body. Take care inside there okay? You can kick papa all you want when we meet you, but for now stay calm mi princess, te amo mucho”

———

no le hagas daño a tu madre = Don’t hurt your mother

PSA: This was so cute to write I loved it so much🫶 So I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :)

*All Spanish came from online as i’m not fluent, if something needs corrected please let me know :)*

See you guys at the next update 🫶

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fandom #sugar daddy!pedro #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x wife!reader #pedro pascal x pregnant!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #rpf #romance

[josephquinnswhore]

Hi 🌸

What about a fic where reader is walking with Pedro and they are at the airport but they get swarmed with paparazzi. Everyone wants to talk with Pedro so the reader falls and the paparazzi start to push her around and he freaks out trying to find her 😩☺️

Breaking Point

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x female reader.

Summary: pedro looses his shit after you get hurt from paparazzi.

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: paparazzi being assholes, reader gets hurt, slight panic attack, Pedro losing his shit.

Note: I FUCKING LOVE YOU ANON. TRULY. Anyway I’m gunna source Pedro’s rage from that video of him at the airport where he’s frustrated but make it 100 times worse lol. I cant believe people are actually requesting my fics, I love you guys.

It’s no secret that Pedro spends a lot of time in LA when he’s not at home in New York, snaps of him plastered on the internet for the world to see; exposing his location within the day of him arriving. Privacy wasn’t a luxury you could afford, especially after his upcoming fame after his role as Joel Miller in the last of us, paparazzi just seemed to be everywhere you went, no matter if you were ordering a coffee, driving to a family members house or even going to the gym. Pedro was often apologetic about the lack of privacy and how intrusive the paparazzi could be, your life has changed drastically since being with Pedro. It was hard to acclimate to, being followed and having hundreds of photos of your face and personal life plastered on the internet and magazines worldwide. You had put your big girl pants on and learnt to deal with it, Pedro admired your resilience, even though the paparazzi were moderately tame up until today.

Today was one of those instances where you and Pedro were on your way to LA, a frequency that had become a fortnightly occurrence, the airport was nearly empty, a few people floating around, you try not to draw to much attention to yourselves regardless as you pull your luggage behind you, the few people that occupied the airport seemingly recognising Pedro despite the cap and sunglasses in an attempt to hide his face. He never minded the fans approaching him, in fact he loved it, as long as they were polite he would entertain them, what he didn’t need however was for someone to post online that he was in the airport, much against your luck that’s what happened when a particular fan approaches the both of you.

“Oh my god Pedro! Could we get a photo please, I’m such a huge fan!” A young girl asks him, his attempt of a disguise obviously failed, Pedro offers a polite smile, “yeah of course, thank you for your support.” You step to the side while she takes a selfie, not wanting to intrude on her moment, “I can totally take a picture for you if you like?” You offer kindly. The girl smiles and is trembling as she hands you her phone, you snap a picture of them together, Pedro wearing a genuine smile, his tired pose captured in the image on the girls iPhone.

You hand the iPhone back to her and she thanks you both, speed walking back to her friend that had been left by the seating area, showing her phone and seemingly posting it to the internet. Within minutes your phone is buzzing from a text notification, Lux sending you a screenshot of the post on Twitter from the girl, in her excited high she exposed your location to the world; worse off the paparazzi. You try to prepare yourself for the shit storm bound to happen.

“This isn’t good.” You mumble to yourself, a loud sigh leaves your lips that catches Pedro’s attention. “What’s wrong honey?” You simply turn your phone to him, he squints through his sunglasses and exhales loudly. “This is going to turn to shit.” He looks around the airport as you walk toward where you’ll be boarding your plane, about to stick your luggage on the belt carousel when you hear shouting and clamouring heading in your direction, that didn’t take long. Pedro turns your body away from the audience as to give you some privacy from the invasive images being snapped of you. He wished just once that the way he touched you would be kept private, he gentle hand on your back, his lips on your temple, nothing seemed sacred between you and Pedro despised it.

“Pedro, Pedro! Look here!”

“Please here look! Just one picture.”

“Someone move the girl out of the way.”

The paparazzi were screaming over each other, pushing and shoving their way closer to you with every second. Their desperation to get a new picture of Pedro outweighed any morals they had, if they had any at all. You struggle to make out their sentences and demands as they rush you, pushing you a few steps back, separating you from Pedro as they surround him in a half circle as they scream at him, each trying to gain his attention for their news report.

You begin to panic once you’re separated, never having death with paparazzi that act like this before, the noise and clamouring becomes too much to handle, it’s easy to become overstimulated when the screaming overlaps each other and the noise becomes havoc, you try to squeeze between the gaps to get back to Pedro, reaching out to him as you try to get his attention, to no avail. Pedro is polite in the way he’s shielding his eyes from the blinding flash as he calls your name, asking them to move out of the way so he can find you, unable to see you past the swarm of strangers. “Pedro!” You call out, voice breathless and strained as you panic, you’d never been around paparazzi like this before. “Please move out of the way so we can get on with our day.” Pedro pleas.

One man shoved past you harshly, seeing the gap you occupied in order to get the perfect picture of Pedro once he had taken his sunglasses off. You trip backwards at the force of his shoulder barging you, stumbling over your luggage that’s pulled tightly behind your legs and as if in slow motion, it takes a few seconds to register the pain in your head as it smacks into the floor as you fall onto the cold tile.

“Baby! Oh my god look at what you people have done! Move out of my way!” Pedro tries to shove his way past in an effort to get to you, seeing you being brutally shoved to the ground, groaning in pain set a fire inside of him.

You grunt in pain as you cradle your head, the area hot to the touch where it met the cold floor, the throbbing spreads to your ears leaving a ringing noise to squeal through them. “Oh fuck,” you mutter which comes out slurred, your own voice sounds unrecognisable, unable to stop the room as it spins around you, the dizziness sets a nausea in you that climbs from your stomach to your throat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people, have you got no dignity or respect?” Pedro snaps as he rushes towards you, seeing your face paler than normal and the pained look on your face as it scrunches. He kneels above you, your eyes seeing doubles as he comes into view. “Baby, are you okay?” His hand is cradling your head and one is waving in front of your eyes, you blink slowly, trying to gain a clearer view of your surroundings.

Pedro slowly helps you sit up, leaning against your luggage as the clicks of the camera are still shuddering throughout the ordeal, not caring that they’ve physically hurt you. Pedro’s face is red and a large vein in his neck and forehead begin bulging in his rage. “You fucking cockroaches, you did this to her. You can expect to hear from my lawyer for this stunt. Get that camera the fuck away from me.” Some of the men flinched, never seeing this side of Pedro. It was a first for you too; the indescribable rage he’d shown was a direct result of your injury at the hands of these people. The clicking and flashes of the camera finally stopped, your vertigo stops to a standstill and you’re brought back to your senses. “We’re sorry man, we just wanted some new pictures. I got a family to support you know.” The man who pushed you excused himself, the irritated tone didn’t go unnoticed, Pedro scoffs, “go and get a real fucking job. All you do is harass people it’s pathetic. Now get the fuck away from us before I call the police. You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass for this.”

“I’m sorry man, I can’t afford a lawsuit.” The man stutters as he realises Pedro is dead serious in his threat. Pedro helps you stand and you wobble on your feet, his arms hold you upright as he leads you away from the crowd. “I don’t give a fuck if you can afford it or not you spineless prick.”

“Come on baby, you need to get your head checked out.” The paparazzi that lingered snapped a few more shots of Pedro leading you to the front desk as they’re escorted out by security.

You’re sat down on a small chair, an EMT approaches you, kneeling down so you can see him.

“Hey, how’re you feeling? Heard you had a bit of a fall.” He starts, opening his medical pack as he observes you. “A fall? She was shoved by those heathens.”

“Its okay.” You turn to assure Pedro, but it was totally not fine, he just shakes his head at the way you’re still trying to make this out to be no big deal. “I think I’ll live. I still feel a little dizzy though.” The EMT takes out a torch, you blink harshly a few times as it blinds you, you try to adjust to the bright LED light. “Just follow this light for me. That’s it, now look up.” Your eyes follow the light lazily, seeing Pedro with a concerned expression on his face out of the corner of your eye, made you feel guilty for ruining his whole day.

“Your reaction is a bit sluggish. Just going to check your head now okay? Where does it hurt?” You nod and point to the area at the back of your head slightly to the left and wince as his gloved hands part your hair where the giant egg on your head was. Pedro’s hand sits on your knee, rubbing it to reassure and offer some support to you. The man gently prods the sore spot and you tense, holding your breath, a headache coming on at the sudden contact with the sore spot.

“It’s very possible you’ve got a concussion. I’d advise not getting on a flight until you’ve been cleared. It may take a few days.”

You sigh, “thank you for looking over me.”

“It’s no problem at all, look after yourselves,” the man farewells as he walks away. Your hands are aggressively rubbing your hands over your face in annoyance, you’ve just delayed Pedro’s flight and now you would have to stay home while he flies to LA for his interview.

“I’ll call a cab to get home, you should still go to LA. You can call me tonight once you land.” You offer weakly and Pedro frowns deeper, the stress lines on his face making him age a few years by the whole ordeal. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving you here after that, concussion or not. I’m staying with you honey.”

Before you can protest Pedro hushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I can rebook the flight and reschedule the interview for next week. I need to be here to make sure you’re okay. Don’t ask me to leave without you.”

“Okay.” You accept which helps Pedro relax, his face red from where the stress lines had been a semi permanent fixture on his face. “Let’s get you home baby. Gotta make sure my girl is looked after.”

Pedro calls a cab outside the airport and helps you into the car, the taxi driver loads your luggage for you. “They’re going to point the narrative about you being awful. You know that right?” You look up at him through your lashes, Pedro scoffs, “let them, they can get fucked.”

He tucks your hair behind your ears and slips his fingers in between yours to hold your hand, a sincere look in his eyes, “no one fucks with my girl and gets away with it.”

#pedropascal #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x from reader #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal request #pedro pascal comfort #pedro pascal boyfriend

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 4

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Gif by:@sh214

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

*! New warnings will be listed first !*

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: ~2.3K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Hi there! To those of you who have read and are still with me, THANK YOU! I love you all. I'm sorry that my chapters are taking longer and longer. Work has been a bit more hectic lately and I also just had some serious writer's block with this chapter. That being said, it feels a little rough and I apologize if its awful lol. But either way, thanks for hanging in there with me and please let me know what you think! Your comments make me happy!

__________

You groaned, stepping out of bed and drifting towards the bathroom. Your face was sticky and your eyes stung from crying late into the night. It was silly, naive, and frankly stupid… but sometimes you can't control how hard emotions hit. Seeing that Pedro didn't actually watch your video was a let down - to put it mildly. Obviously he's a popular guy. A star. He has better things to do.

You should be grateful he even responded to your Instagram message before. Even though it hurts, surely he has more interesting things to do than message someone like you. Just because you wrote a song and he said he liked it doesn't mean he owes you anything more.

So after a fitful night's sleep, you were utterly exhausted; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Luckily, it was still your weekend and you could rest today. 

More like spend the day wallowing in your self pity… you think, disdainfully at yourself.

Looking in the mirror, you notice your puffy eyes. There's some new acne, and a mop of frizzy hair on your head. After using the toilet, you step on your bathroom scale before your shower; a morning routine you started during years of dieting. Another 3 pounds. Up again?!

You look in the mirror, pinching your stomach with a sigh. I guess I shouldn't have had those cookies yesterday…

The food guilt creeps up as you think of the goodies you've eaten recently. Cookies yesterday, fast food the day before. You were bitter that you weren't one of those people that could just magically eat whatever they wanted without gaining an ounce. 

But you aren't, and you should know better. 

Frustrated with your appearance, you begin your usual internal debate about how to fix it.

Maybe I should go back on the diet…

But the diet caused you so many problems. Remember the stomach issues? The hunger? The lack of joy? Binge eating on cheat days until you were sick?

But! I lost so much weight!

Yeah, until you started gaining weight…

Maybe I didn't cut enough. People said I looked so good. I was *almost* skinny.

Maybe people would like me more if I was skinny… Maybe Pedro would like me if I were skinny. There's no way he would be with me looking like this.

These were the debates that plagued you for months… years… a lifetime.

You showered, tears beginning to flow again as you tried to push out the thoughts. He was probably just busy, but either way you knew you didn't have a chance. 

Your friends were right. You were an obsessed fan. It was… concerning, as they said. They pitied you when you felt sad about your feelings. Just find someone you actually have a chance with, they pushed. Someone real.

But... he did message you. Maybe he didn't even know you had an interview yesterday? Maybe he watched it later. You were being utterly ridiculous. It didn't matter anyway.

But what you didn't know was that Pedro felt just as disappointed. He wanted to be the one on your list. The one you loved. He went to bed just as mopey as you did and woke up just the same.

_____

Having washed away your bad feelings as best as you could, you gave Skipper a kiss on his little forehead and made some coffee while scrolling Instagram. You were nervous to see what people had to say about your interview, but you had to face the music eventually.

As you could have predicted, people were running through the potential suspects (or prospects, that is) who have brown curly hair and brown eyes. Some supported you and loved your interview. Others criticized you for being too chicken to show yourself. 

You weren't used to this level of attention, and you really weren't sure you enjoyed it. But you were grateful to have your two lives kept separate, your true persona still shaded in privacy.

What you did not predict, was a notification popping up from Pedro, interrupting your scrolling. Forgetting to breathe, you immediately clicked on it. If the message were food from the oven, you would've burnt your hand the way you grabbed it so fast. 

Perhaps I should've been a little more chill about opening this so quickly... Oh well.

Pedro Pascal messaged you: "Hey! I watched your interview yesterday. You did fantastic. I know fame is new to you and you're nervous, but you're a natural."

Your heart swelled. He did watch it!! He must have just been busy during the live stream.

You replied: "Pedro! You watched it!?! Thank you so much. That really means a lot to me."

Pedro read your message immediately, but instead of sharing in your level of excitement, he was hit with a wave of confusion instead. She must just be trying to not hurt my feelings. She already knows I watched it.. unless she didn't even notice my name. Or she didn't care enough to look for it…?

He decided to play along with it anyway. "Absolutely, I did. I've had it marked on my calendar since the day it was announced a couple days ago and watched it as it was streamed live."

His response took you by surprise, and then made you angry. If he really watched it, he would know that they gave you a list of the people who watched it live. Why was he lying to you about it?

You started to plan out your response, maybe even send an accusatory comeback, but then you thought about it again.

Why would he lie about it? What would he gain by lying? He messaged you.

With this in mind, you instead chose to take a different approach. One better designed for fishing. One you had to be very careful about, so as not to reveal the fact that you looked for his name.

"Wait!? You watched it live? I didn't see you on the list. You're one of the few people I've spoken to who actually seem genuinely friendly and interested in having a conversation with me. I had sort of hoped you were listening."

There. That doesn't sound too revealing, right? Totally friendly…

Pedro opened your message and was met with both confusion, and something else he wasn't expecting. Hope. Did you look for his name??

Still, he wanted to address the confusion. "You didn't see me on the list? That's odd.. but I'm sure there were a lot of names to scan through. Maybe my name was just buried in that list."

You knew it wasn't buried. He was the only name you looked for. The only name you cared about seeing on that list, not that you'd admit that to him right now. But you also didn't want him to feel that insignificant either.

"There were a lot of names, I'll give you that. But I swear you weren't there. Were you logged into your account? Maybe your Internet crashed, or you missed part of it?"

Instantly he remembered the ten or so minutes that Oscar interrupted him. 

Oscar!

"Oh shit! That's it. Oscar barged into my house while I was watching it and I slammed my laptop closed."

"Oscar… Isaac? Wait, why did you slam your laptop closed?"

"Yeah, that's the one. And… I don't know. He just surprised me, I guess. It wasn't a planned visit."

Slamming your laptop closed is an odd reaction to your friend visiting, but okay, you thought.

"So you closed your laptop, and missed a few minutes. And that must have been the moment they pulled the list of viewers."

Pedro replied. "It must have. But I was there, more than happy to listen to what you had to say"

If my name had been on the list, would her answer have been different? When asked whether the man she loved was on the list and she said no, would my name have changed anything? Pedro wanted to ask you these questions. But he couldn't. Not only was he scared, but he also didn't want it to come off as some douchey comment that made you uncomfortable. He wanted to get to know you better, even if just as a friend, and he wouldn't let a silly little crush ruin that.

You sent a response that could be deemed as friendly or neutral, still cautious. "Thank you Pedro. I'm really glad you watched it."

He replied without hesitancy. "Of course. But, I am sorry that your guy wasn't on that list."

He sounds genuine. Not like he's fishing for information like everyone else on the internet. In turn, you decide to be playful with your response. Risky, but still not too revealing. "It's okay. It turns out that list wasn't as accurate as I once thought it was" you typed with a smirk.

"So maybe he was watching after all," Pedro answered.

"Maybe he was."

Pedro soon changed the subject, "I did enjoy hearing about your favorite things, though. You may know this already, but I love movies. Some of the ones you mentioned are a couple of my favorites as well. But as for your favorite books, I haven't read them, but I've been meaning to find a new book to read."

The fact that he was a reader made your heart flutter; the thought of him sitting with a book, his glasses perched on his nose, brow furrowed as he stroked his thumb over his lip in deep concentration. You were overjoyed at the thought of him reading *your* favorite book and potentially having someone to talk to about it. Before you knew it, you had frantically sent multiple excited messages.

You: "Oh! If you read any of my favorite books we HAVE to talk about them!"

Second message: "AGH the first book I mentioned is my favorite, out of all of them. The ending blew my mind. And the characters were just so amazing! Well except for that one guy.. but I won't spoil that…"

Third message: "But my favorite character has the greatest lines!!! Sometimes I like to quote it but nobody else gets it. And the way the author describes the settings is so magical, it makes you want to be there."

Pedro caught himself smiling at his phone, wrapped up in your excitement, as you were finally able to talk to someone about your favorite book. It was adorable how happy you seemed.

He started to type a reply when you sent another message. "Shoot… I'm sorry. I got a little too carried away…"

"Who told you that?"

Huh?

"Who told me what?" You asked.

"Who made you feel like you had to stop talking when you became excited about your interests?"

His question took you aback, but your mind struggled to pinpoint the answer to it. There's been so many people that have told you that over the years. People you assumed were friends. An old crush who didn't like multiple text messages at once. Classmates who would complain or make fun. It was routine.

"Oh. It's not a big deal. It's just something I've heard over the years. But I also know how I get and I don't want to be too much. I'm sorry. I don't want to monopolize the conversation too much either. But hey, you didn't mention, what are your favorite books?" You tried to change the topic.

Pedro felt that protective feeling bubble up in his chest again.

"Over the years!? There have been multiple occasions?" Pedro shook his head, even though you couldn't see through the text. "I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel that way or said anything to imply that your interests weren't worthy of being heard. Fuck them. They should be thankful that you shared your interests."

They should be grateful to hear your beautiful voice get so excited. To get to see your excitement and smile, Pedro thought to himself angrily. He hoped he could someday witness you getting excited over your interests in person too.

"Thank you Pedro. But really, it's okay. I know I get a little… obsessive and crazy, especially with sending multiple texts, so I don't blame them. Haha. :)" you tried to soften the mood.

"I don't want you to ever feel that way with me. I liked hearing you talk about your interests."

You began to type, but Pedro beat you to the punch.

"In fact… if you'd like to talk more," he gave you his phone number. "Feel free to text me, or you can call me too. I like talking on the phone, but I know not everyone does."

Holy shit. Is this real life? Did Pedro Pascal just give me his phone number? And ask me to call him?

Truthfully, your introverted self really didn't like talking on the phone. But the idea of talking to Pedro, hearing his voice on the other end of your phone was too much to handle.

What you didn't realize, was that Pedro wanted it just as bad.

Your fingers danced over your phone keyboard, trying to find the right words for a reply. What do you say when the love of your life (that you didn't think you would ever have a chance with) gives you his phone number?

Pedro watched anxiously as the three dot-dot-dots of typing appeared and disappeared over and over. His heart was racing, and he began to worry he may have overstepped this time. 

Why did you give her your number? She's going to think you like her!!! 

But you do like her, you idiot, Pedro berated himself.

He ran his hand down his face, waiting for your response in agonizing suspense. But instead of hearing the pop of a notification, his phone began to ring instead, an unknown number displayed on the home screen.

Wait… is that her? Is she CALLING me?!

He answered frantically, practically dropping his phone in the process. 

"Hello?"

"Hello? Pedro? It's me.."

You heard him give a breathless laugh before answering with a gentle "Hi."

_____

Thank you for reading!! Let me know your thoughts :) More will be coming soon. I know this is a painfully slow burn lol. Thanks for being patient.

Next chapter! Here

_____

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #rpf #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal x afab!reader #key to your heart

[pedge-stuff]

I just had the worst and saddest possible day ever and all I wished was someone here, just to hug me under my cold covers. Can you please make something up with pedro and reader please?

I'm so sorry you are going through this?? I hope things have improved since you submitted this. Sending love your way.

—————————————————————————

okay (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

a little, plotless shorty for your troubles.

thanks, as always, for everything.

TW: a very brief mention of disordered eating

summary: sometimes, you just need to be held.

—————————————————————————

"I'm okay," you whisper. "It's okay, really. I just need a little bit."

Less than convincing.

There is a dip in the mattress behind you. Even with your eyes closed, covers pulled over your head, turned away from him entirely, you can tell he is settling against the headboard, atop the duvet.

Pedro doesn't speak. Doesn't touch you, either, but you're not really sure if you're grateful for that; sometimes, being touched when you're like this feels so intolerable, it takes your breath away. Other times, a soft touch feels like the only thing that can hold you together. Trial and error, involving a lot of shitty and unfair antagonisms, has taught Pedro to give you space before he gives you love.

This is why you suck, your brain supplies. Nothing more— your mind is too fucking tired to even dissect your insecurities properly. You just feel bad.

Not without reason; at least, not today. Three missed calls from your mother, with whom you are barely speaking to, anyways. (It turns out being engaged to Oberyn Martell is about the only thing that could cure her passive aggressive homophobia. A bit too late to be water under the bridge, at any rate.)

Three missed calls, and some really shit news.

So, you're in bed. Under the covers, hiding, as if 8:30 is a totally normal bedtime.

And things are decidedly not good.

The tears come, silent and steady.

A warm press of lips to the back of your neck startles you; hot puffs of breath where his nose is buries into the hair curled at your nape, just a moment, before pulling back. It does not feel as bad as you'd feared.

"Sorry," you croak, blindly reaching behind you; squeeze what feels like his knee, in what you hope is a marginally reassuring gesture. "I'm fine, baby, you don't have to sit here with me." Pedro is early to bed— neither of you are really night owls— but not this early.

He makes no effort to move. "Can I..." A tentative hand, between your shoulder blades.

You can't help the thin whine that accompanies your shaky exhale. Fucking pathetic. But you turn, slowly, rolling over to face him. You'd assumed he was up against the headboard, but he's shifted down now, head on the pillow beside you.

Smiling, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Wordlessly, he tucks an arm over your waist. He's always been strong, biceps as thick and sturdy as tree limbs, but the Gladiator training has added a layer of muscle just about everywhere. (Including his stomach. Abs are slowly stealing the small belly there, and while you're proud of the work he's putting in, you secretly miss the softness.)

"I don't know what you're thinking," Pedro whispers, mouth brushing against the top of your head. "But I'm so sorry, honey." He rubs the length of your spine, brow furrowing at the feeling of unfamiliar protrusions. Stress and an irregular schedule has sent good eating habits by the wayside; your body is shrinking, while his grows.

It's been the shittiest fucking month. He's been gone, you've been busy, and neither of you have gotten enough of the other. Back in New York three days now, but this is the first night you've been able to stay in together— and, of course, you've ruined it.

"Just happy to be with you," Pedro says, as if reading your mind. "Maybe this strike'll last forever, and I'll never need to go back to Morocco. Sorry, Paul Mescal."

You laugh, despite yourself, thick with tears. "I'm gonna miss the fan selfies, I think. What're they calling you? Pee-paw?"

Pedro groans, punishing you by pulling you tighter against him. Your face is squashed against his chest. Not a hardship. He smells clean, spiced. Familiar. Comfortably, and safe.

"You're engaged to the oldest man on the internet," he laments. "In Twitter years, I'm dead."

The squished hug is short-lived, breaking as he rolls back, gently, to get a better look at you. Cups your face, puffy and wet and gross; brushes twin thumbs over your cheeks, with a fond smile.

"There you are," Pedro whispers.

"I'm okay." Another sniff, but the threat of tears seems to have subsided. Today was shit, but it's over now; you're here, together, with nothing but time and sleep ahead of you.

"It's okay that you're not, sweetheart."

But you are. You're with him.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #din djarin #javier pena #javier pena x reader #din djarin x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the mandolorian #narcos

[javarium]

Occupational Hazard | Pedro Pascal.

Note(s): Comedian! Reader, Large but Legal Age Gap (MC is 30+), Female Reader, mentions of assault and injury, Pedro and MC are engaged 💍 (also, more often than not, when you ask for no salt on the fries at a fast food place (where I’m at anyway), the fries are always hot and fresh), wrote this in a span of, like, two days so it’s not proofread! enjoy!

Summary: Being a successful comedian, you’ve made all sorts of jokes, especially ones at your own expense. But not everyone has the same sense of humor, and Pedro finds out how dangerous some of these people who find your jokes “offensive” are.

****

Pedro hadn’t expected your text message so late. He had just gotten home an hour prior, tired and exhausted. But after his shower, he heard the ding of the two minute reminder on his phone. He plucks his phone from the charge and reads: Would you be available right now? To pick me up? Had an incident tonight.

He’s dressed and out the door not even five minutes later, wet hair slicked back away from his face so his glasses wouldn’t get wet.

It unfortunately takes him thirty minutes to get to the comedy club where you were scheduled to have an event, much much longer than he wanted. But when he arrives, he’s ushered in by the guards that already know him and the fact you and him are in a relationship.

A female guard in plain clothes is waiting for him the moment he steps through the doors, more than likely the one who informed the ones outside you had sent for him and to let Pedro through.

A couple of twists and turns down some hallways and he’s at the stage where you do your work.

He grimaces to himself, and his heart fills with worry and concern.

Not even five seconds upon entering the room did your eyes lock onto his form, his presence something you’ve always noticed immediately regardless of his quiet he was — always seemed to know when he walked into a room, your soul practically locked onto his own.

When the doctor pulls away, finishing her job, Pedro sees the damage done: a full black eye that would be shut for several days and a split lip, with a nose almost broken with a dot of dried blood at your nostril. You’d probably have to go to the hospital in a day or two to have that checked out to make sure it healed properly.

Everyone pulls away from you like opposing magnets, leaving the room to give you both some privacy. He’s glad. He also doesn’t want them to see him pissed off, because he was almost fucking livid.

He pulls a chair from where the crowd sits and places it in front of you. You give him a smile through the pain, and he wants to kiss you so bad but your lip is split damn it—

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey yourself,” he whispers back, trying to smile back and not be angry. One hand is laced between the fingers of your left hand that has that pretty diamond engagement ring on it, his other cupping your cheek on the side that doesn’t have a black eye and rubbing your skin fondly. “What happened, baby?”

You shrugged. “Not everyone has the same kind of humor.”

Pedro raises his brows. “Meaning?”

You inhale heavily, releasing an equally heavy exhale.

“A guy got pissed at a deadbeat dad joke I made,” you said. “I guess he fit the criteria, knew it, and got pissed. Felt called out, I guess.”

His eyes go wide with shock. “You serious?”

“Yeah,” you admit. You run your thumb over the skin of his hand and continue, “I think I’m gonna cancel my next three shows.”

Pedro’s against it the second the words leave your mouth. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am.” You give him a face, one he recognizes easily: you’re not going to budge, and there’s no point in him arguing. “I think he universe might be telling me to take a break.”

He nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, you’ve been going as hard as me lately. I’m starting to think this line of work is more dangerous than what I do.”

You slap his shoulder in a light and childish manner. “Oh, shut up. You do a lot more taxing work than I do.”

“But you’ve done a lot more shows than you have in the last, what, year?” Pedro argues this time. “That’s a fucking lot. Not even I’m sure I could handle that much moving around the states so fast.”

You jab back, “That’s why I pack lightly, baby.”

He laughs. “Har har. Got me there…” Pedro leans forward and presses a kiss to the side of your temple. “I love you, mi princesa.”

You giggle, warmth flooding to your cheeks at Pedro’s affection and soft declaration of love for you.

You almost get to say it back, but he grins cheekily because he already knows and proceeds to ask, “Want some McDonald’s?”

You stand to your feet immediately. “I want two twenty piece McNuggers, two fries without salt, and a big-ass Sprite.”

“You eat too damn much.” Pedro snorts, smiling ear-to-ear. “And you and your no-salt on the fries, I swear.”

“It’s better that way!” you reply, mock offended. “And you get them fresh, too! That salt isn’t any good for high blood pressure anyway.”

“Whatever you say,” he remarks. “So, McDonald’s in the car, go home, shower, and cuddle with a movie on until we fall asleep?”

You love him — absolutely and positively love him. This man knows how to make your bad days better like the back of his hand.

“Sounds perfect.”

You’re so glad to have him. You’re the luckiest woman in the world, no doubt, to call such a perfect man yours.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #real person fiction #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal fluff #pedro rpf x reader #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller tlou #female reader

[audreyscahier]

Off the Record (Pedro Pascal x OFC)

Word count: 4,560 words

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Content warnings: Daddy kink (not ddlg; she just calls him daddy a lot), oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, (slightly) rough sex, sweet sex, Big Dick Pedro, Soft Dom Pedro, alcohol, lingerie, a little bit of slapping, dirty talk, a hint of sugar daddy vibes

Summary: Rae is an entertainment reporter who has developed a playfully flirtatious professional relationship with Pedro over the years. Totally professional. Until he invites her to hang out in his hotel room one night after an event—strictly off the record.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and written just for fun. If RPF makes you uncomfortable, please do not continue with this post.



The convention is so crowded that it feels like an act of fate when Rae steps out for some fresh air and happens upon Pedro, alone behind one of the side buildings. He’s smoking a cigarette and he gives her a playful, guilty grimace when he spots her, gesturing with a flick of ash.

“You caught me,” he says.

“You’re such a bad boy,” she teases.

He laughs.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. He’s looking her up and down and she sees his eyes linger on her bare legs before drifting their way up the rest of her body. The attention makes her stand a little straighter.

She’s used to California weather. This is a rare travel assignment and she hadn’t packed well for the climate.

“Fucking freezing. But that’s the cost of beauty,” she adds loftily, like she’s done it on purpose.

He raises an eyebrow, amused. “Well, it’s paying off,” he says. “You look gorgeous.”

She gives him an appreciative smile. “It’s too bad you didn’t put any effort in; we could’ve looked good together.”

It’s a joke. He’s wearing a cozy, well-fitted cashmere sweater and designer trousers, with a one-inch heeled suede boot. His dark hair is styled at the perfect in-between point of messy and coiffed, with well-defined curls that you could still run your fingers through.

Not that she’s fighting back the urge to touch him. That would be unprofessional.

He’s playing along with the joke, narrowing his eyes at her and shaking his head, ruefully. “You’re always fucking showing me up.”

Her phone vibrates and she glances at it. It’s a text from her producer, giving her a 15-minute warning for their next interview.

“Three more hours,” she sighs. “And then I’m going to go back to the Fairmont and climb under all the covers and stuff myself with room service.”

“I’m at the Fairmont, too,” he tells her. “Don’t order the crab cakes—they’re dry.”

“You should invite me over to hang out,” she says. “I can help you raid the minibar on Disney’s dime.”

He takes a drag on his cigarette and blows the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, away from her, considering it. “What’s your poison?”

“That depends,” she muses. “If you want me to stay good, I like vodka. Tequila? My clothes come right off.”

He barks out a laugh, slowly shaking his head. “Well, I’m in…” He digs in his pocket, pulling out a slim wallet and rifling for his hotel key card to find the room number. “Room 512, if you want to stop by. We can call down for salt and limes.”

It makes her heart beat a little faster, that he’s taken this past harmless flirtation and turned it into… This was an invitation, wasn’t it? Rae schools her expression, trying to remain playfully aloof.

“Maybe I’ll see you later, then,” she says, and gives him a wink as she turns to go back inside.

He opens the door on her second knock. The room is nicer than hers—it’s a king suite with a huge tub that she spots through the open bathroom door as she steps inside—and he hasn’t been in town long enough to make it very messy. The lighting is muted, just a couple of table lamps on in the corners and a golden sheen from the setting sun filtering through his open curtains. He’s kept on the nice sweater, but changed his trousers for a pair of dark, comfy-looking sweatpants, and abandoned the shoes in favor of bare feet.

Rae slips off her flats by the door, making herself at home.

“I thought you might stand me up,” he observes.

“Of course not,” she says. “It’s not like I can afford to break into my own minibar. I needed to get to yours.”

Pedro clicks his tongue, mock-hurt. “You’re using me. You know, Meryl Streep warned me about this. She said the more famous you get, the less you know who you can trust.”

He’s joking around, she knows, playing off of her comment and name-dropping the most absurd famous person he’s acquainted with just to make her laugh. But the sentiment still makes her feel a little sad, and it probably comes out too earnest when she tells him, “You can trust me.”

He looks at her and gives her a quiet smile. “Yeah, I know.”

There’s a plate of lime wedges and a shaker of salt already sitting on the counter with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. She raises an eyebrow, delighted he’s chosen her favorite vice.

“I warned you about the tequila,” she reminds him.

He makes a face, dismissive. “You don’t scare me.”

She waggles her eyebrows, like, maybe you should be scared, but he just shakes his head, amused, and pours them each a generous shot.

“Salud,” he says, clinking his glass to hers.

They don’t go overboard. A 7:00 AM wake-up in this time zone will be 4:00 AM as far as her west coast-attuned body is concerned, and she likes her job too much to sabotage it by getting seriously drunk the night before a long work day. But with two or three shots apiece, they make it through a few of the tiny, overpriced bottles, and they each have a pleasant, relaxed buzz going.

Pedro makes for good company. Off the press line and away from any cameras, inhibitions lowered by the tequila, his sense of humor comes out a little dirtier. Every time one of his jokes lands, sending her into a fit of laughter, he grins, looking pleased with himself. Not for the first time, she finds herself thinking that it’s almost maddening how charming and charismatic he is.

“You know,” Rae tells him, “A lot of fangirls out there would pay good money to take a shot with you. I’ll never be able to tell anyone about this because they’d rip me apart out of jealousy.”

“Oh please,” he teases. “Don’t pretend like you’re not right there with them, getting all hot over the Mandalorian every week.”

Her jaw drops, but she swiftly recovers. “Actually, I belong to the camp that believes Din Djarin is a virgin. I don’t think he’s probably even that good in bed.”

He’s offended. He goes from a lazy sprawl to sitting upright, just like that. “Excuse me?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a take on this? It’d be an amazing scoop if I could get a quote from you.”

“Hey,” he says warningly. “This evening is strictly off the record.”

“Of course,” she agrees. He holds up his hand, pinky extended, and she scoots closer on the couch and hooks her pinky around his, promising. “So?”

“Din Djarin is not a virgin,” he says decisively. His tone says he thinks the mere concept is ridiculous.

“Well, who has he had sex with?” she challenges him.

He counts off on his fingers. “He fucked that twi’lek girl with the knives—”

“Xi’an,” she supplies.

“Of course you remember her name,” he laughs, but not unkindly. They both know she’s nerdier about Star Wars lore than he is. He ticks off the next finger. “He fucked Omera. He obviously fucked Cobb Vanth, if you can’t see that you’re blind.”

He has to raise his voice to be heard over her laughter. He’s holding back his amusement, too.

“I can’t believe you’re questioning Mando’s sex life when you’re the one calling him a daddy all the time.”

“Uh uh,” she corrects him. “I think you’re a daddy.”

Over the course of the conversation she’d continued to unconsciously slide closer to him, and now as he watches her in amused contemplation, they suddenly feel very close. The realization of it, in the silence following her overtly flirtatious statement, makes her smile fall and her pulse pick up. She looks down, taking a breath, and when she glances up he’s still looking at her face. His voice has turned husky when he speaks again.

“Can I kiss you?”

She bites her lip, trying to stay cool, and nods. He leans in closer, lightly gripping her chin under his thumb.

“Yes?” he checks.

“Yes,” she says breathlessly.

His lips are soft, and dry, and a little tangy from the salt and lime they’ve both been consuming. He slips his tongue lightly over her bottom lip, adding a little glide to the kiss. She follows his lead, melting into him and feeling flushed. He’s cupping her face, and the firm press of his hand on her cheek is simultaneously grounding and makes her feel like she’s caught up in a dream.

“Can I—” she starts. She curls her fingers, closing around nothing. His eyes are dark, watching her patiently. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” he murmurs. He takes her hand in his and guides it to rest on his upper thigh, close enough the permission is clear—not so close that he’s making her move too fast.

He kisses her again, and she closes her eyes and lets herself follow her instincts. Her fingers inch higher on his lap until she feels his bulge, stiffening under the soft fabric. She runs her fingers along him and his breath hitches. She squeezes, lightly, and he grunts, shifting his hips up into her touch.

“Can I—” she starts again. He cuts her off, answering against her skin as he works his mouth down the length of her neck, telling her, “Yes,” before she can finish the question. “Yes.”

So she makes her way to the edge of the couch and sinks onto her knees on the floor, pushing his legs open to settle between them. He’s looking down at her there, looking turned on, looking like he likes what he sees—but when she reaches for him he stops her, grabbing her wrists in one hand.

“Wait,” he says. His voice is lust-rough. With his other hand, he picks at the fabric of her top. “Take these off first.”

She bites her lip, feeling a rush of arousal pulse through her to pool between her legs. She misses his grip when he lets go of her wrists, but she stands obediently and strips off her clothes, until she’s down to just her underwear. Pedro’s mouth falls open, taking her in. Focusing in on the matching bra and panties.

“You brought this for a work trip?” he asks, sounding awed.

Maybe she hadn’t done such a bad job of packing her suitcase, after all.

“I just… like lingerie. I like to wear it under my regular clothes,” she tells him. “It makes me feel sexy.”

She does a slow turn, letting him see the cheeky cut of her panties.

He looks a little dazed. “It’s very sexy.”

His gaze follows her breasts, perched filling out the lacy, balconette cups of her bra, as she kneels before him again. This time he doesn’t stop her when she reaches forward, brushing her hands over his growing bulge as she grasps his waistband and tugs it down to unveil him to her.

She was certain it would be big, but the sight of his cock still makes her mouth drop open and her eyes widen as she takes it in. Her hands look small, touching him, wrapping around his length. She feels that rush again, pussy going wet and her mouth watering for him. She licks her lips, purses them tight, and leans in to slide her mouth open around the tip of his cock.

He swears.

She sinks her hot mouth onto him, sucking him off and savoring it, her saliva mixing with the mild salt-tang spurts of his pre-come spilling onto her tongue. She slides her hands down to the base of his cock where she can’t reach her mouth, slicking him up and working over his length in firm strokes.

Rae pulls back for a moment, wanting to watch his face while she jerks him off. She has one hand wrapped around his shaft and she reaches the other down to massage over his balls. His eyes are heavy-lidded, watching her, and his breath is unsteady, hips twitching like he wants to thrust hard into her heat. He grabs the back of her head with one large hand, tugging her forward just gently, telling her without words that he wants her mouth back on him. When she doesn’t take him in immediately, he taps his cock lightly against her cheek, nudging at the corner of her mouth.

Her eyes flutter closed. “You can be rough with me,” she tells him. “I like it.”

“You like it?” he repeats. There’s a pause, as she meets his hot gaze and silently nods. “Then take it.”

Pedro’s grip is tight on the back of her neck as he forces his cock past the seam of her lips. He fills her mouth, hitting against her throat, and she moans, focusing on avoiding him with her teeth and distracted by the way her clit throbs from the rough treatment. Her body is rocking, legs pressed tight together, head bobbing on his dick, all her senses overwhelmed by the taste and smell and sound of him—by his soft stomach where she’s braced one hand, tucked under his shirt, and the ache in her jaw and her vision blurring with unshed tears from taking him too far and starting to choke.

He pulls her off, to let her get her breath back, and squeezes his fingers around the base of his dick, steadying himself as she runs the back of her hand over her wet mouth, wiping away the drool that’s gone running down her chin.

“Come here,” he says, gentle again. He pulls her into his lap, straddling his legs, and kisses her softly at the corners of her mouth, soothing over her swollen lips.

He runs his thumbs delicately along the tops of her bra cups, feeling the lace bordering her soft skin, then smooths his hands down her sides to her hips. He looks up, watching her face as he slides one hand over the thin fabric of her panties, but his controlled expression changes as much as hers does when he touches her and feels the arousal soaking through.

“You got that wet for me?” he rasps. “From sucking my cock?”

She nods slowly, feeling exposed and shivery under his gaze, turned on even more by hearing those words in his deep voice.

“I told you I liked it,” she whispers.

His jaw clenches. He slips his fingers under the fabric, teasing over her skin, feeling along her folds—watching her gasp when he finds her clit. Then he pinches it, hard enough to make her cry out and buck her hips in his lap, and her breath comes out unsteady when he lets go.

“Rae,” he says. “Go get in my bed.”

The command sends a wave of calm through her system. She takes a deep breath. “Yes, daddy,” she murmurs, and climbs carefully off of his lap.

In the bedroom, she follows his instruction, stripping off her lingerie and tossing it aside before climbing onto the plush bed. She leans back on her elbows, legs demurely crossed at the ankles, and watches him pull his sweater over his head, revealing his softly toned body and broad shoulders. Then he shoves the sweatpants off his hips, stepping out of them where they pool at his feet, and her gaze is drawn back to his cock, bobbing enticingly between his legs. Her eyes glaze over, hypnotized with want.

He kneels onto the bed, reaching to uncross her ankles and make space between her legs. His eyes rake over her, drinking her in, absently biting his bottom lip as he lingers on her pussy. Then he makes his way up, straddling her thigh, one knee by her hip and the other just below her cunt, not quite close enough for her to grind against his leg like she thinks she might like to try. He kneels over her like that, leaning forward to brace one hand next to her shoulder, and caresses her face with the other, running his fingers lightly over her cheekbone. She melts under him, meeting his dark eyes, taking in his handsome face and his lush lips and thinking maybe he’ll kiss her again.

Pedro slaps her face, just hard enough to send a jolt through her, making her gasp. Her eyes snap back to his, pulse racing.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, voice gone husky.

“I—I want your cock,” she moans.

“Tell me,” he says. “Say it again.”

“Please,” she begs, “I want your big fucking fat cock, daddy.”

He laughs, a low, dirty chuckle. “Where do you want it, baby?”

Her face is flushed; her whole body is on fire, all hot and needy for him. “In my pussy.”

“Yeah?” He rubs his hand over her mound, warm on the smooth-shaven skin, then feels down into her slick folds where she’s soaking wet. “Your pretty little pussy? You think she can take it?”

“Yes,” she whines. He pushes three thick fingers inside her, making her cry out and tilt her hips up, greedy for it. His knees are spread wide to balance himself and hold her legs pushed open with his own. When she writhes under him he sets his weight down harder, pinning her.

With his free hand, he slaps her tit. The sting makes her yelp and her cunt clenches tight around his fingers. He twists and pulls them free, then thrusts inside her again, working in and out until she feels like she can’t form a full thought, head all empty but for the sound of her moans and his hot, heavy breath, and the fast, dirty squelching sound her pussy makes as he fucks her hard.

When he pulls his hand away she can see her slick coating his fingers, shining wet in the dim lamplight. He falls forward so that he’s hovering directly over her and feeds his fingers into her mouth, making her taste her own arousal. Her eyes flutter closed as she sucks them clean.

“Dirty girl,” he murmurs. He pulls his fingers gently out and lowers his face to hers instead, giving her a deep kiss to chase the taste of her with his tongue.

He grinds his hard cock into her hip and eventually pulls out of the kiss, murmuring against her mouth, “I have to grab a condom.” He brushes his thumb over her mouth as he pulls away, tender. “You still good?”

“Mmm,” she breathes. “So good.”

He rifles in his travel bag, unzipping a small pouch and retrieving a condom packet. When he returns to the bed, he runs his hand along her thigh and then slaps her flank. “Get on your knees.”

She rolls over, pushing up onto her knees, and braces her forearms on the bed, arching her back. It feels primal, presenting her cunt like this for him to take, and behind her he growls with want.

She feels the head of his cock press blunt and thick at her entrance, and he starts working his length into her in shallow, prodding thrusts, a little deeper each time. He starts slow—he has to, she’s so fucking tight around him, and it’s only because she’s so turned on that the stretch isn’t too much to take. Gradually, he pushes his cock into her hot, slick center, and it leaves her gasping for air, like he’s fucking all the way up into her lungs.

“Christ,” he groans. His voice has gone impossibly deeper. “You feel so fucking good, baby. How does that feel?”

She tries to speak and it comes out a strangled moan, incomprehensible.

He withdraws a little, fighting against the grip of her pussy trying to keep him inside. His hands are strong on her hips, holding her in place.

“Tell me,” he commands. He thrusts in again as she opens her mouth, and she cries out.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how this cock feels in your sweet—little—pussy—” He emphasizes each word with a deep thrust. She feels lightheaded from it, but it’s like it breaks something inside her and her tongue finally works again, babbling needy words at him.

“It’s so good, fuck, it feels so good, daddy,” she moans. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—” The friction is easier now, with her body opening up to take him, and he’s moving faster. She’s gripping desperately into the bedsheets above her head, moving with the push-pull rhythm of his sex, and she’s starting to feel almost high from it, a little spaced out on the sensation of his dick driving into her.

He leans forward, draping hot over her back, and it shifts the angle of his thrusts, so that he’s suddenly hitting a spot that makes her see stars.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit—” He probably can’t make out the words; her voice is muffled in the sheets. Her body is trembling, on that pre-orgasmic high, pure pleasure running through her with every stroke of his huge dick. She wishes she could stay suspended like this forever, in this luxurious bed being fucked by this perfect cock, balancing right on the cusp of ecstasy.

When she comes, she collapses flat onto her belly, shattered, and he follows her down, pinning her to the bed and continuing to fuck her just as hard. She cries out, the sounds of her orgasm tearing out of her throat and ringing in her ears as her pussy pulses and flutters around him. Finally, he slows and pulls out of her, and the sudden emptiness feels too big, like he’s left her hollowed out in the tender space of her cunt. He turns her over, onto her back, and braces over her, eyes focused on her face when he slides his dick back inside and fills her in again. She whimpers, needy and overwhelmed, feeling every long, slow inch of his cock dragging through her.

He kisses her, languid tongue matching his steady thrusts. It’s intimate in a way Rae’s not sure she’s earned the right to be with him. But it doesn’t surprise her, learning he’s sweet like this. He’s always looked at her like he wants the eye contact, like he wants to be close, like he thrives on connection. She’s always seen him act kindly to everyone in the room, and it only follows that when you’re the only one in the room with him, he’d devote himself to you and take his time.

She wants to make him feel good. To see him lose control and let go. She squeezes her cunt around him, experimentally, and he breaks their kiss to exhale a gasping breath, rhythm faltering.

“Fuck,” he breathes, mouth on her chin. “Do that again.”

She clenches again, running her hands down his body, teasing at him with her long nails and feeling him tremble. “You feel so good, daddy,” she whispers. “Your cock is so big, I don’t—fuck!” she exclaims, when his pace picks up and he rams into her, harder. “I don’t know how you even fucking fit inside me, your big—fuck—fucking cock—shit—”

He’s panting, making ragged, desperate sounds, pushing up into her like he can bury himself even deeper. Teeth sharp, biting at her jaw. She’s not even thinking about the words spilling out of her, just lets every filthy thought slip free, riling him up. “Fuck me, daddy, fuck—you’re fucking splitting me in half—I want you to come inside me—fill me up—I want it, I want it, I want it—”

He groans, hiding his face in her neck, stiffening and releasing inside of her. She wishes, insanely, that he had fucked her bareback so she could feel it coating her pussy, dripping out after. She would have let him if he wanted to, she thinks, and it’s a terrible thing to realize about herself.

It doesn’t stop her from holding him in place before he can pull out, keeping him deep inside her cunt, and rubbing at her swollen clit until she comes on his dick one last time, savoring the orgasm and the rumbling sound of his groans in her ears.

He doesn’t try to kick her out after—in fact, he orders a slice of caramel cheesecake from the room service menu and asks if Rae wants something, too—but in the end, she reluctantly says that she should go.

“I have to be up early to interview that kid from the new Marvel movie,” she sighs.

Pedro laughs, unsympathetic. “Oh, your life is so hard.”

“Yeah, harder now,” she complains. “I’m gonna be walking funny on the press line tomorrow.”

He bites back a laugh, but then furrows his brow in concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

She hums, giving her nude, exhausted body an experimental stretch. “That was the biggest dick I’ve ever taken,” she tells him. “And… it was the best.”

He relaxes again, looking like he’s not trying very hard to hide a satisfied smirk.

“Don’t let it go to your head or anything.”

“Oh,” he says, shaking his head dismissively, “Way too late for that, sweetheart.”

When she sees him again they’re back in LA, at a premiere for his new indie film. He greets her with a familiar, professional smile, but she can see the change in how he looks at her now, the new, interested sparkle in his eyes and how he lingers on her longer. He gives her a tight hug goodbye, murmuring, “Bye, baby,” too quiet for the mic to pick up, and she slips a folded note into his hand as she pulls away.

I had to buy a bigger toy—you’ve ruined me. Asshole.

She hears his dirty, delighted cackle and she fights to school her face, tamping down the light, giddy feeling in her chest as she turns her focus to the next guest on the press line.

She’s not sure how he got her home address. It probably wasn’t that hard, she supposes, to have his agent contact her company and sweet talk it out of them with the promise of exclusive promo material, or something of that kind. It’s probably not worth questioning how one of the biggest rising stars on the planet can get something he wants. In any event, she’s grateful he did, because she might have received this package in the middle of the office, otherwise, and that would have been more than a little embarrassing.

He’s got her size right. She wonders if he’d snuck a peek at the tags before she put her underwear back on—if he was already planning this even then. The thought of it makes her feel—something. She’s not sure what it makes her feel. She’s walking a tightrope between a dangerous mistake and total euphoria and it’s all she can do to keep her balance, because she can’t risk taking a misstep.

The set is from a luxury brand so expensive she would never buy it for herself. It’s an ethereal blend of ribbon and tulle, the thong nothing more than a scrap of beautiful fabric, and she knows it will have cost him several hundred dollars.

There’s a gift note, sitting on top of the tissue paper-wrapped goods.

A ‘sorry for ruining you’ gift. So you can feel sexy at the season 3 premiere. Show me after, if you want.

-P

Her stomach swoops, as she tries not to fall.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal rpf

[moonxknightx]

𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 --- Pedro Pascal x F!Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 --- Fluff and smut ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 --- RPF ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 --- 18+, Smut, oral (both m&f receiving), piv sex, fingering, orgasm denial, passionate sex, unsafe sex ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 --- After months of waiting for a call back on Pedro’s audition for the tv show The Last Of Us, he finally get’s the call, which means it’s time for a celebration .

“BABE I GOT THE ROLE!” Pedro shouted as he ran through the front door of your shared apartment.

“What?” You smiled as you took your headphones off and closed your laptop. “I got the part baby.” Pedro smiled while opening his arms for you.

“You mean…” You slowly got off from the couch and walked towards Pedro who still had his arms wide open.

“Yes sweetheart i got the role for Joel Miller!” Pedro yelled while pulling you into probably the biggest hug ever.

“No fucking way!” You smiled while looking up Pedro. “I’m dead serious baby. I literally just got the call. They are going to send me the script tonight and then they want to meet up next week to discuss it.” Pedro explained while tightening his grip on your waist.

“I am so proud of you Pedro.” You smiled while Pedro lifted you up in the air and spun you around. “Me too! I am going to play The Joel Miller.” Pedro laughed while gently putting you back down.

“Congratulations baby.” You smiled while pulling Pedro in for a deep passionate kiss. Pedro immediately kissed back of course, while walking you back towards the couch until your ass hit the furniture.

“What are you doing?” You giggled when Pedro started kissing your neck. “Celebrating?” Asked Pedro while moving from your neck to your jawline.

“You want to celebrate it with sex?” You asked with an amused smile. “Well i mean…” Pedro gave you a cheeky smile which caused you to shake your head while you tried to hold back a smile.

“Please?” Begged Pedro while reaching for your shirt, desperately wanting to take it off. “Alright but i want to come first.” You smirked while Pedro started laughing.

“We can do that.” He smiled before taking your shirt off to see you weren’t even wearing a bra underneath.

“You’re not wearing a bra?” Asked Pedro while gently grabbing your breasts in his hands. “Was i supposed to wear one?” You asked while moving one of your hands to Pedro’s hair.

“No no absolutely not.” Pedro murmured before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, making you moan in pleasure.

“Oh shit baby.” You breathed while pulling on Pedro’s hair. “Don’t stop.” You said while throwing your head back.

“I’m not planning to.” Pedro smirked before pushing you backwards so you’re laying down on the couch. Pedro quickly climbed on top of you and continued with kissing your breasts.

“God i love them so fucking much.” Pedro moaned softly while flicking his tongue on your left nipple.

“Pedro i need more.” You managed to breath out while trying to your best to keep still.

“You need more hmm?” Asked Pedro while kissing his way up to your jawline. “Yes i need more.” You repeated while trying to arch your back.

“Tell me what you need cariño.” Pedro whispered while still kneading one of your breasts in his hand.

“I need your dick.” You moaned softly while pulling Pedro into a desperate kiss.

“Oh yeah? You need my dick?” Asked Pedro with a slight smirk. You desperately nodded while reaching for Pedro’s belt, wanting to undo it as fast as possible.

“Oh fuck.” Grunted Pedro while looking down at you, watching how you undid his belt and his pants.

You quickly took off his pants and boxers which revealed Pedro’s very hard dick.

“Can i suck it?” You asked Pedro with puppy eyes while gently wrapping one of your hands around the base of his cock.

“Fuck yes please do.” Pedro groaned and watched how you carefully took his dick in your mouth, making him hiss in pleasure while he threw his head back.

You immediately began sucking on his dick, not forgetting to slide your tongue over the tip, knowing it would drive Pedro crazy, like it always does.

“Mierda…please don’t stop.” Moaned Pedro while latching one of his hands on top of your head, guiding you up and down his cock.

You looked up and gave Pedro a smirk before you moved one of your hands towards his balls which made him moan softly.

“Fuck keep doing that cariño.” Pedro breathed while his hips started to stutter, letting him know that if you were to keep up with this, he would be coming in no time.

Luckily, you noticed it and quickly let go of Pedro’s dick with a small ‘pop’ sound. “Did you like that?” You asked cheekily while cupping one of his balls in your hands.

“Fuck yes, why did you stop?” Pedro panted while watching how you began kissing your way up his body, from his abdomen to his jawline.

“Because we made a deal right? I get to come first.” You smirked while Pedro rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Come here then.” Pedro groaned while grabbing your waist harshly, pulling you into him.

“Do you want me to eat you out hmm?” Pedro asked while kissing your neck. “Yes please.” You moaned softly, gripping onto his shoulders while digging your nails into Pedro’s skin.

Pedro hissed in both pain and pleasure at feeling your nails in his skin. “Fuck!get up.” Pedro groaned while getting up from the couch, pulling you with him.

Pedro lifted you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist to secure yourself. “Let’s take this to the bedroom shall we?” Pedro smirked while carrying you into the hallway of your apartment.

The moment you and Pedro entered the bedroom, you were thrown onto bed while Pedro climbed on top of you.

“Let’s take this off first.” Pedro smiled while pulling your sweatpants off, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

Pedro’s lips curled up in a smirk when he saw the wet spot on your panties. “So fucking hot.” He muttered before pushing your panties to the side which gave him a clear view of your glistening wet pussy.

“Please Pedro…” You whimpered while arching your back. “What is it sweetheart? Want me to eat you out?” Pedro smirked. 

“Yes please.” You moaned softly. Pedro grabbed both of your ankles and pulled them over his shoulders before leaning down so he could place a small kiss on your inner thighs.

“Don’t. Tease.” You groaned while bucking your hips. Pedro chuckled slightly before licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you moan in pleasure while you threw your head back.

“Oh fuck keep doing that.” You moaned while Pedro started focusing on your clit. You moved one of your hands into Pedro’s hair and pushed him closer to your pussy, needing to feel more.

“This feels so good.” You managed to say between moans while Pedro dug his nails into the soft skin of your thighs.

“Pedro more…I need more.” You whimpered while bucking your hips into his face.

Pedro listened to what you were saying and carefully moved one of his fingers towards your entrance, slowly pushing it in which caused your hips to stutter while you clasped your hands over your mouth, trying to silence your moans.

Pedro didn’t like it though. “Hey don’t do that baby. I want to hear you.” Pedro groaned while adding another finger into your pussy.

“Oh fuck Pedro i’m close.” You moaned while you threw your head back in pleasure.

“I know baby.” Pedro smiled, looking up at you while his tongue is still working on your clit.

Just when you were about to come, Pedro completely stopped with everything he was doing to deny your orgasm.

“No! Why did you do that!” You whined while tears started to form in your eyes. “Ssh don’t cry baby.” Pedro chuckled while kissing your cheek.

“I hate you!” You groaned in frustration while glaring at Pedro who was trying to hold back his smile.

“Calm down cariño. I just want you to come on my dick.” Pedro chuckled while placing his hands on your waist, lifting you onto his lap.

“Are you okay?” Asked Pedro while gently pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Yeah i’m fine. I was just so close.” You sighed while placing your head on Pedro’s shoulder.

“I know baby.” Smiled Pedro while stroking your back. “Just fuck me please. I need to come. You promised.” You whined while reaching down for Pedro’s cock, stroking him.

“Here let me.” Pedro said while gently moving your hand away from his dick. You watched how he pumped himself a good few times before he positioned his cock at your entrance.

“Are you ready?” Asked Pedro while pressing his forehead against yours. “Yes i’m ready.” You sighed with a small smile.

Pedro gave you a quick kiss on your nose before slowly pushing into you, making you gasp in pleasure and slight pain.

“Keep going, it’s okay.” You breathed when you saw Pedro’s panicked face. He didn’t want to hurt you.

Pedro did as you told though, and kept pushing into you until he was fully inside.

“Are you okay baby?” Asked Pedro while kissing your jawline. “Yeah i’m okay.” You smiled softly while gently grabbing Pedro’s face so you could kiss him.

While the two of you were kissing, Pedro started thrusting into you, making you both moan and whimper.

“Fuck keep going Pedro, you feel so good.” You moaned while throwing hour arms around Pedro’s neck.

“I love you so fucking much baby, you have no idea.” Groaned Pedro while taking one of your nipples in his mouth, making you whimper.

“Fuck me harder Pedro.” You breathed while latching one of your hands in Pedro’s hair.

Pedro immediately began fucking you harder while you were holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

“You feel so good baby. So damn good.” Pedro grunted while slightly biting your shoulder to muffle his moans.

“I’m so close Pedro.” You moaned while burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Come for me baby. I know you want to.” Pedro whispered while keeping his thrusts deep and slow just how you liked it.

“Fuck i’m gonna come!” You announced while closing your eyes. And before you knew it, you were releasing all over Pedro’s dick.

“Oh shit!” Cursed Pedro at the feeling of you milking his cock. “Ride it out sweetheart.” He whispered while trying to keep your head up.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Praised Pedro, kissing your shoulder while your body went limp in his arms.

“Do you want me to pull out?” Asked Pedro softly while caressing your face. You were about to say yes, but then you remembered that Pedro didn’t get to come.

“What about you?” You asked quietly. Pedro chuckled while kissing your cheek. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows while looking at Pedro. “But-“

“You’re tired cariño.” Pedro interrupted while giving your hips a little squeeze. “Pedro…” You sighed while throwing your head back slightly.

“It’s okay. I promise. Why don’t we just lay down while i’m still inside of you hmm? Is that okay with you?” Pedro asked while looking at you.

You bit your lip for a moment, thinking about his offer. You really wanted Pedro to come as well. But if Pedro really had no problems with it, neither did you. You were really tired after all.

“Alright fine…” You sighed while Pedro pulled you with him so you were laying on top of him in bed.

“It’s no big deal baby.” Pedro smiled before pulling you into a passionate kiss. “Yeah whatever.” You smirked slightly after pulling apart from the kiss to catch your breaths.

“I’m really happy you got the role baby. I really am.” You smiled while kissing his neck.

“Damn i almost forgot about that.” Pedro chuckled while rubbing his forehead. “You’re a dork Pedro Pascal.” You sighed as you started tracing small circles on his chest.

“I’m just kidding baby. How could i forget. You were the one who helped me with getting the role of Joel Miller.” Pedro said while playing with your hair.

“Me?” You questioned while looking up at Pedro. “Yeah you.” Smiled Pedro. “How?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Well because of you i really knew how to portray Joel’s character for the audition.” Pedro explained. “Because i played the games so much and forced you to play it with me?”

“Yeah exactly.” Pedro leaned forward to kiss the top of your head while he pulled you even closer if that was possible.

“Well i’m glad i could help you baby. I know you are going to crush it as Joel Miller. I believe in you.” You smiled before kissing Pedro on the lips.

“Thank you sweetheart.” Smiled Pedro while letting out a deep sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“You do know what you have to do now, right?” You asked with a slight smirk. “And that is?” Asked Pedro with an amused smile.

“You have to take me to set with you. At least once.” You smiled proudly which caused Pedro to laugh.

“Okay nerd.” Smiled Pedro while kissing your nose.

“I am not a nerd Pascal!” You snapped, making Pedro laugh even more.

“Says the one who has played both The Last Of Us games more then at least four times and read all the books.” Pedro smirked while you rolled your eyes.

“I hate you Pedro Pascal.” You sighed before burying your face in his neck.

“I love you too baby. And don’t worry, i’ll take you to set with me, okay?” Pedro said while closing his eyes.

“I love you Pedro Pascal.” You smiled while kissing his cheek. “Oh now you do.” Sighed Pedro while giving your hips a squeeze.

“Yes now i do.”

(A/N): i love Pedro Pascal and i can’t wait to see him as Joel Miller

Fill out the tag-list form on my blog if you like to get tagged in more Pedro content!

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #javier pena #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandolorian x reader #javier pena x reader #javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal rpf

[pedrotonin]

LOST IN THOUGHT - PART 1

Or: Thanks to Joel Miller.

[part 2] - [part 3]

Summary: you are Pedro's new groomer and accidently tug his curls a little too hard. Oops.

Pairing: Pedro x female reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Some curse words. Sexual tension (mostly from female perspective)

A/N: Okay, so I decided I would have a go at this fanfiction thing myself. The idea for this is living in my head for a while now. I never wrote fanfiction before, like never in my life.

That, and the fact that English is not my native language, stopped me from giving it a try.

But here we are. Enjoy.

Your first day as Pedro Pascals new groomer was one you wouldn't soon forget.

You'd spend hours preparing for his arrival, pacing back and forth. Waiting. Internally screaming. Panicking. You had, at one point, even called your best friend, who had managed to calm you down a bit. And when he finally walked in with his assistant in tow, you managed to shake his hand and tell him your name. Just like a normal person. Thank god for small mercies.

He sat down in your chair, got rid of his glasses and pulled out his phone. He told his assistent to wait for him at the location the photoshoot was held at in about half an hour. Then he looked up at you in the mirror and smiled. You felt your heartbeat increase.

"So, Mr. Pascal, how wou-"

"Pedro, please,"

You gave him a shy smile and asked how he wanted his hair done. He shrugged and told you to do whatever you'd like.

He then opened his phone, excused himself and started answering texts.

Okay, you could do this. This was your job. You'd done it a million times before. Maybe not with his hair, but still. Hair was hair. Right?

You looked at said hair. It was messy, curly. Brown, streaked with a bit of grey. You inhaled and ran one of your hands trough it. It felt soft. You exhaled. Get a grip.

He already changed for the shoot. Currently wearing grey striped dress pants, a matching waistcoat, a light blue button up shirt and a navy blue tie. Sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, showing his strong arms. You swallowed.

Deciding to put some gel in his hair, so you could slick it back a bit, you reached over his shoulder to grab some products. Your arm brushed his and he looked up at you for a brief moment, before resuming to his text messages...

Dipping your fingers in the product, you willed your inner thoughts to shut up. This was just Pedro Pascal, you could do this. The fact you watched most of his movies, spend more time than you'd ever admit on YouTube looking at his interviews, followed multiple fanpages on instagram and tumblr and read hundreds of fanfictions, it did not matter. You would never tell him this. He did not need to know. Besides you mostly did it to get to know him better. To get to know his different hair styles. It was just work related. Yes, that was exactly what it was. You almost convinced yourself. And the fanfictions? Well, you just liked to read. About him, but still, no harm in reading, right? You were just going to do his hair and that was that. He would never know.

Applying the product in his curls, your mind started drifting to this incredible fanfiction you read last night. It was a Joel one. You especially liked those. Joel Miller, doing all sorts of things to the female reader. Thinking about how you had read it and imagined Joel slowely backing you up against a wall. Pressing his body against yours. Whispering dirty things in your ear. All dominant and needy and...

Pedro let out a tiny groan.

You blinked. Slowly you realised what you were doing. Your right hand was in his hair and you were pulling it. His head even tilted back a bit because of it.

You found his eyes on you through the mirror again. Shit. Shit.

Somehow you could not let go. You were frozen, staring at your own hand.

He groaned again. It shot straight to your core.

You let go and stared at him. Waiting for him to tell you to get the f- out. He did not. Instead he put his phone down, a blush forming on his cheeks.

You forced yourself to speak.

"I am so sor-"

"Mr. Pascal? They are waiting for you." His assistant peeked around the corner.

He got up. Adjusted himself. Donned his glasses and looked at his hair. Fixed it. Your job, your only job...

Turning around he looked you up and down. Heat spread across your entire body. He was so much taller than you. You willed the ground to open up so you could disappear.

He put his hand on your shoulder.

"Lovely to meet you. Untill next time?"

Wait, what?

[next part]

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal hair #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #slow burn #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal rpf

[maggotzombie]

Hello Love, May I Please Request A Smut Where Pedro Pascal Is Injured From The Gym And Reader Doesn't Wanna Have Sex With Him Because She's Afraid To Hurt Him But He Convinces Her He's Okay Please?

gentle touches ; pedro pascal

PAIRING — Pedro Pascal x Reader (fem) SUMMARY — Pedro has overdone his workout and is feeling the results on his body. You're trying to give him space but he has other plans. WORDS — 3,3k TW — 18+ MDNI!, established relationship, mention of minor injury, very explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral sex, vaginal intercourse, very slight spanking, creampie), some language (you know, the dirty talking kind). A/N — This was a challenge. I was not planning for this to be my first Pedro fic (I'm actually in the middle of writing what I thought it'd be lol) but my mind quickly started putting this together once I got this request but, at the same time, I everything I wrote didn't sound right. So it took a little while hehe Hope you like it, anon! 😘

— 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

HE’S TRYING TO HIDE IT since he came back from the gym a couple of days ago and you’re pretending to not have noticed it. But can he really hide anything from your exceptionally vigilant eyes?

Pedro never was good at keeping things from you either. He usually spoils his own surprises because he’s way too excited about them so he ends up admitting what he’s been planning with a huge smile on his face. And, to be honest, you love how fast he talks when he’s telling you everything.

But, yeah, despite his trainer’s warnings, Pedro has overdone it in the gym and is feeling every bit of the consequences on his body. It doesn’t help that he’s not that young anymore and he’s also stubborn as fuck, even going as far as assuring you that everything’s fine when you ask him.

Either way, you’re giving him space to heal, not that he wants any. You’ve been positively ignoring the looks he has been giving you since you were doing a yoga routine in the living room yesterday.

You look up from the book you’re reading when Pedro walks into the room. His lips turn into a smile as soon as he sees you lying on the couch and he quickly makes himself comfortable on top of you, resting his head on your chest.

You chuckle, your fingers immediately burying in those amazingly soft chocolate locks of his. “What’s up, baby?” You ask opening your legs wider to accommodate his body.

“I’m bored,” His voice is a little muffled as he buries his face in your chest.

“Wanna go for a walk?” You suggest, looking down at the crown of his head.

“No, I'm not really in the mood to go out,” Your boyfriend says.

Figuring he’ll just tell you what he really wants at some point, you just say: “Okay,” And go back to your book, which you prop against his back.

Pedro rests his head more comfortably on your chest and you lower your hand from his hair to stroke his back absently. You don’t pay attention to his hands as he traces patterns in your skin but you can’t ignore the goosebumps they leave in their wake when Pedro caresses sensitive spots.

You catch yourself reading the same line multiple times before actually comprehending it. “What’s your book about?” He asks casually.

“Uhh… It’s a thriller,” You reply once you get your head together.

“It must not be that good, you’re not actually reading it,” Pedro comments, his hands carefully going from your hips to your thighs.

“Actually, it’s very good,” You frown, looking down at him. “What do you mean by that?”

He looks up at you with a slight smirk. “You haven’t flipped a page in five minutes.”

You scoff, embarrassed for getting caught right-handed. “That’s because you’re distracting me!” You point out. “Could you keep your hands to yourself, please?”

Still smirking, your boyfriend raises both hands before settling back down. But it doesn’t last too long. This time, he gets bolder and tucks his hands under your shirt, making you squirm under his touch.

“I have an idea,” He starts to pepper kisses on your chest. “Since you’re not that into that book and I’m bored, we could entertain each other.”

You don’t even reply because you’re so distracted by the way his nimble fingers tease one of your nipples over your bra. Your body begins to respond to the stimulation almost instantly, that sweet tingly sensation traveling down your spine and settling on your core.

Pedro’s lips against your chest make a shiver run through your body and he easily reaches up to your neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin before easing it out with his tongue. An involuntary moan slips past your lips as he suckles a hickey on that spot in your neck that makes you go insane.

When your brain starts to function again, you realize you’re tilting your head back to give him more access to your neck so he can continue his ministrations while your eyes are closed and you’re fisting his shirt.

Then it downs on you that it’s what he wants when he came looking for you. Which is fine, until you remember his injury.

“Hold on,” You abandon your book and pries Pedro’s face away from your neck with both hands on his shoulders. “I don’t think we shouldn’t have sex right now.”

He makes a face. “What? Why the fuck not?” He asks, confused.

“Honey, I don’t want to hurt you,” You thumb the spot on his cheek where his dimple appears when he smiles.

He shakes his head. “You’re not gonna hurt me, what are you talking about?” Your boyfriend reaches forward and attaches his lips to yours.

You don’t push him off you immediately. Instead, you kiss him back, getting lost in the sensation of his tongue in your mouth. Then you move him away again but not before biting on his bottom lip and eliciting a breathy groan out of him.

“I meant, more,” You say, panting slightly. “I don’t want to hurt you more,” You look down at his swollen lips as they look even more appealing now.

“I’m not hurt, baby,” He says, trying to go for another kiss but you stop him.

You glare at him. “Pedro,” You say and he sighs. “You know you can’t keep anything from me.”

“Okay! Yeah, I’ve got hurt in the gym a couple of days ago but it was a minor injury and I’m better now,” He confesses rapidly. “Can we fuck now? Because you’ve been killing me all this time with your yoga shit and these fucking tiny shorts,” Your boyfriend squeezes your ass and you can feel his erection when he presses you against himself.

You smirk at his confession. “Is that right?”

“Uh-huh,” Pedro hums, dipping his head to kiss your neck.

You feel your skin prickle with goosebumps in response to his lips and you close your eyes. “Are you sure?” You ask again in all seriousness. “Are you really better?”

“I’m fine,” He rasps, dragging his lips across your jaw.

You buckle your hips against him unwittingly and he moans at the friction. You end up locking your legs around his hips and, in desperation, you hold his jaw and bring his lips back to yours. Pedro gladly kisses you back, tucking his hands into your shorts.

Settling into the couch, something pokes into your back uncomfortably. “Hold on, hold on,” You push him away again.

At first, he thinks you’re about to protest again. But, when you remove the book you were reading from under you and throw it carelessly on the coffee table before pulling him down by his t-shirt, Pedro knows he’s won.

Your boyfriend smiles into the kiss and holds your hip with one hand while grabbing your thigh with the other. He presses his erection against your core again just to hear your sweet whimper.

But he’s not the only one that knows your weak spots and you quickly work to your advantage, lowering your kisses to his throat this time. In addition, you slip your own hands under his shirt, and his reaction from your nails running up his back is to buckle his hips again.

“Fuck, baby,” He hisses as you nip his neck.

You suckle a spot, giving in a hickey of your own before moving away to see the product of your work. But you get distracted at the look of him – his disheveled hair is pointing in every direction, his lips are swollen from your kisses, and his eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown with lust. Everything is a product of your work as well.

“You’re so sexy, corazón. Mi mamacita perfecta,” Your boyfriend murmurs, looking down at you as his hands slowly run up your sides, taking your shirt with them.

You nearly melt into a puddle at him speaking Spanish. “Yeah, papi?” You ask.

The look on his face at your choice of words is downright obscene and he says something in Spanish under his breath that you didn’t catch. It also does make him move more urgently, taking off your shirt more and throwing it somewhere in the living room.

Pedro kisses you fervently before trailing his kisses down your jaw and neck. You moan at the feeling of his hands kneading your breasts and teasing your nipples over your bra. He slips both hands under you when you arch your back and easily unclasps the undergarment as his mouth travels further south, nibbling on your collarbone.

“Tan hermosa,” His warm breath against your skin gives you goosebumps again and you shiver in expectation.

He peppers your chest with wet kisses until arriving at the valley of your breasts. Your boyfriend drags his soft lips against your skin and his mustache tickles you, but you love it. You arch your back again and Pedro chuckles against your skin, sensing your desperation for him to take your nipple into his mouth. He mumbles for you to calm down in Spanish and does what you wish.

Immediately, you tangle your fingers into his curls, moaning at the feeling of his tongue. After a bit, he switches to the other nipple but keeps teasing the previous one with his thumb.

Even though the sensation your his mouth on your tits is wonderful, you’re getting so aroused that it’s starting to ache.

Absently, you push his head down. “Baby,” You whine, squirming under him.

“What’s going on, corazón?” Pedro’s hair is even messier now. He tilts his head, cupping your back as he looks up at you. “Do you need me lower?” He kisses your underboob and then the spot above your navel. “Maybe here?” His fingertips brush your clit over your shorts.

“Y-yes,” You sound winded at the slight touch. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” He nuzzles your stomach before dragging his lips and nose down your belly button.

Pedro keeps spreading feather-like kisses down your body and the anticipation only makes you ache more for his touch. You know he’s in the mood for teasing when he doesn’t waste the time slipping both your shorts and panties down your legs. He does take his time kissing the way back up your legs though.

You know you’re embarrassingly wet as you could feel the air colder against your core. “Mami,” Pedro muses after kissing your knee. “You’re dripping wet.”

Your boyfriend runs his index finger across your folds, gathering some of your slick, and it nearly makes you burst into flames. “Baby, please,” You stutter, buckling your hips toward him once again. “Stop playing around and eat my pussy, papi.”

He groans, as you expected, and moves toward your core quickly. Throwing your left leg over his shoulder and pushing your right one to expose you more, Pedro dives in, licking a long stripe of your pussy right away. You moan loudly and shiver at the same time, knotting your fingers into his hair again.

The vision of Pedro buried in between your legs is something that you want to burn into your memory. The way his hair falls over his forehead and how he closes his eyes in focus as his tongue works, lapping out everything you have to give him like a starved man.

As usual, he eats you out perfectly, alternating between sucking your clit and flicking his tongue on your folds. “Fuck, baby,” You cry out, buckling your hips against his mouth. “Your tongue feels so fucking good.”

Your boyfriend groans and the vibration only adds to the feeling, making you throw back your head with a loud groan. You hold his head harder against your pussy and you lock eyes with him as he pushes two fingers into you.

“Oh, shit, papi,” You gasp, moving your hands to your breasts.

He moves his mouth away and licks his lips. “Does this feel good, mi vida?” Pedro asks, pumping his fingers in and out.

“Yes,” You close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his fingers.

Pedro moves one of your hands away from your boob and covers it with his own, pinching the nipple with his nimble fingers. The added sensation makes you clench around his fingers and he curses in Spanish, reattaching his mouth to your clit.

The combination of his tongue flickering quickly on your bundle of nerves and his fingers scissoring inside you has your legs quivering.

“Oh, God. No, baby, stop,” You ask, panting. You push his head away. “Stop,” You repeat. “I need your cock. I want to cum on your cock.”

“You will, baby girl,” Your boyfriend reassured you but keeps moving his fingers.

You reach out and grab his face, making him look at you. “I want your cock inside me right now, Pedro,” You demand more firmly.

He nods, pulling his fingers away. “Yes, vida.”

Pedro pushes his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean as you sit up to help him out of his clothes. You remove his shirt but he attaches his lips to yours before you could do the same with his shorts. Even so, you reach out and pull his shorts and boxers briefs down to his thighs.

He opens his mouth but whatever he is about to say dies on his lips as you take him in your hands. Instead, your boyfriend groans and immediately thrusts into your fist. You pump his length a few times and he pulses in your hand, ready to stretch you out. So you line him up at your entrance without waiting for him to fully remove the rest of his clothes.

Pedro fills you up with a thrust, pulling loud noises out of both of your throats. “Fuck, corazón,” He rasps with his eyes closed, basking at the sensation of you squeezing him. “You feel so good.”

“You too, baby,” You say, searching for his lips. “You’re so big,” You gasp.

He kisses you and starts to move slowly. You moan as he stretches you out, wrapping your legs around his waist, your brain turning into mush. As the pace starts to get more rapid, you stick your nails to your boyfriend’s back, mewling as he nibbles on your neck and collarbone.

When Pedro grabs your left leg, raising your knee to waist level, your eyes roll to the back of your head. The new position gives him more space to move and makes his cock reach new spots inside you.

“Oh, shit,” You cry out, holding to him tighter.

“Yeah, baby?” Your boyfriend huffs, looking at you. “Do you like it like that?”

“Y-yes,” You whimper, grasping onto his arm. “Yees, papi, like that.”

You don’t even need to ask him to go faster because he does it as soon as you stop talking. The sound of his hips slapping against your thighs starts to get louder, echoing around the room along with your moans as he fucks you into the couch.

After a little bit, Pedro’s movements start to slow down. “Hold onto me, corazón,” He says.

“Huh?” Your lust-induced brain doesn’t quite register what he says.

Instead of repeating, your boyfriend wraps an arm around you and pushes both of you off the couch. He sits down with you on his lap and manages to remove his shorts and underwear, spreading his legs wider.

Pedro looks up at you, settling back against the backrest cushions. “I want to watch you ride my cock, princesa,” He says.

You smirk, resting both hands on his shoulders and starting to bounce on his length. “Like this?”

He rests his head back and closes his eyes. “Sí, bonita,” Pedro moans.

You giggle and, without halting your movements, you cup his face and kiss him. Your boyfriend rests his hands on your hips and you bite his bottom lip, causing him to squeeze your flesh.

Pedro’s attentive eyes rake over your body as you ride him, his hands following it sometimes. He cups your breasts, kneading them before guiding his mouth to capture your nipples again. You cradle his head, encouraging him to go on as your fingers massage his scalp.

He begins to thrust his hips up when your movements falter with fatigue. To keep meeting his movements, you readjust your body, resting your forearms around his shoulder to use the backrest of the couch as support.

At the same time, a slap to your right ass cheek startles you slightly but it also fuels your desire. Another slap to the other cheek has you whimpering lewdly and your boyfriend groans, holding onto your hips and helping your movements up and down on his cock.

You pull on his hair to make him look at you and he groans, grinning when he looks up at you. You take his lips and moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against his, enjoying the way your clit rubs against him. Pedro catches on to that and guides his thumb there.

A bolt of electricity makes you shiver the moment he starts to rub you and you throw your head back, cradling his neck as he looks up at you, rocking against him urgently.

He can sense your orgasm building up by the way your pussy starts to squeeze him. So he keeps toying with your clit as you return to bounce on him with more purpose, snapping your hips down onto him.

Your mewls don’t make a lot of sense anymore and Pedro’s groan joins your sounds. Craving more speed, he wraps both of his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as fucks you faster than before.

You scream, burying your nails on the cushions as your orgasm takes over you, your body trembling against Pedro. He doesn’t let you go and keeps fucking you through your orgasm, your pussy squeezing him deliciously and milking him perfectly.

“Fuck, baby girl,” Your boyfriend gasps. “Look at me,” He asks, feeling his cock swell.

You rest your forehead against his and he becomes more vocal, howling and shivering slightly as his thrusts start to falter. His cum coats your walls and he keeps fucking it further into you with the last snaps of his hips before slowing down to a stop.

None of you can form any coherent sentence and the only sound in the room is from your heavy breathing. With his cock still inside of you, your body keeps convulsing on top of him with aftershocks. Pedro curses when your pussy squeezes him again.

A soothing hand starts rubbing your back, easing you off the orgasm as your heart continues to race. He finds your lips and he kisses you sweetly, a stark contrast from the way he was fucking you literally a minute ago.

“Are you alright, corazón?” He rasps, his voice thicker.

“Yeah,” You croak out, raising your head from his and cupping his face. “Are you?”

“Fucking A, baby girl,” Pedro replies with a lazy smile and you chuckle.

“Does anything hurt?” You raise an eyebrow, playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

“Not right now,” He says truthfully. “The only thing I can feel is your sweet pussy making me hard again,” You roll your eyes but keep smiling. “Do you know you drive me crazy when you call me papi?”

“Why, honey. That’s why I do it,” You giggle at his face when you tell him that.

Once again, Pedro surprises you by lifting you up in his arms swiftly. You yelp, both in surprise and at the feeling of his cock sliding out of you. You begin to leak on him, but he doesn’t seem to care as he gets up from the couch.

You clutch onto him, looking at him questingly. “I’m gonna fuck your brains out in the shower,” He says, determined.

“Ay, ay, papi!” You say and giggle when he grunts, shaking his head.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #the mandalorian #din djarin #javier peña #oberyn martell #frankie morales #francisco morales

[secretwriterpp]

Angel voice

Summary: Pedro Pascal x Reader. Karaoke night with friends.

***this is officially my first fic! I had this story in my mind for so long, I had to write it. I’m not even a good writer and English is my second language, so I’m sorry if it’s a tough read. No beta , I don’t know anyone who could help me with this , any volunteers ? ***

Warnings: RPF. Just friendships. A little flirting. I guess … two idiots falling in love.

For the last few months , you always walked hand in hand with your new bestie Sarah. The friendship was new, but it was intense. You met her on the set of an amazing indie film. She was the main character and you were the supporting one. It was a movie about a love story between two inspiring women. Loving Sarah on screen and in real life was easy, it felt like you knew her your whole life.

Tonight was no different, your hand into hers , you walked on the sidewalk together with some of her closest friends. Oscar and Elvira were walking behind you whispering sweet nothings to each other while Pedro was the leader of the pack , goofing around , pretending to be in an action movie , hiding from imaginary bad guys. The little group of friends kindly accepted you as the new member of their pack as soon as Sarah introduced you to them. Since you just recently moved to NYC, it was great to have people you could count on.

You were lost in your thoughts , feeling the warmth of the summer breeze on your face and bare shoulders. Only hearing the buzzing sounds of the city. You were having a hard time realizing how lucky you were to have them, to be exactly where you wanted to be with your acting career, you felt really emotional at that moment. Maybe it was the fatigue from the long days on set or maybe it was the effect of Sarah’s earlier questionable concoctions she called her special drinks , but you could cry. You were so lost in your own head that you jumped when you heard Elvira joyous exclamation.

- YEEEES! Come on guys! It’s been a hot minute since we humiliated ourselves properly!

You heard Pedro hum a barely perceptible « oh nooooo » while he formed a fake gun with his hand and pretended to shoot himself. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at what Elvira was so excited about. You were pleased to see that is was a karaoke bar.

Only Sarah knew that you were a good singer. She called you her soft angel when you sang for her on set. Your favorite Pink Floyd songs were the soundtrack of your blooming friendship. Truth is , you tried to succeed as a singer/songwriter a few years ago, but it just didn’t happen. It was for the best though, now you knew it. After realizing you would probably never be a recording artist , you decided to focus on your acting career and it paid off.

When you entered the bar , it was very noisy, a mix of people singing and other simply screeching , people cheering and others having animated conversations. Elvira was fast to find you guys a place to sit. She knew she had to move fast so Pedro wouldn’t have a good reason to convince them to leave and escape his worst nightmare. It wasn’t a secret that he didn’t like Karaoke, he didn’t want to sing and he didn’t want other people to butchered all of his favorite songs . He mimicked his best suffering expression when the girl on stage started to sing sweet home Alabama with her shrieking voice.

You guys were seated in a big white U shaped bench wrapped around an oval table , perfect to accommodate your little group. You were squished between Sarah and Pedro who were having a deep conversation about the last movie they saw together. You were not complaining , being with them was so much fun and you had to admit that being so close to Pedro was not bad either. Since you met him, you had a little crush on him. Nothing serious, nothing you would tell him about , it was just a fun little game to flirt with him. And oh boy was he a flirt. The little smiles he did when you spoke about your recent projects, the way his eyes just lingered on your mouth, his hands touching your skin every chance he get, followed with a cute wink when your eyes would meet his. It was nothing your brain said , but the butterflies in your stomach made you wonder which body part of yours was right.

Nobody really paid attention to the people who were on stage , a few times, when the performer was not as bad , the girls and you would cheer and sing along. You don’t know how many drinks you guys were in when Elvira came around the table to talked to Pedro.

- So , what are you going to sing tonight Pedrito? Pedro lost his smile and rolled his eyes.

Sarah laughed : I really don’t know if Elvira really loves karaoke or if she just like seeing Pedro suffer!

Pedro: She hates me! She hates that her husband calls me his girlfriend , she’s jealous and that’s her way to get her revenge.

Elvira: Oh please P , not everything is about you!

Pedro did his most exaggerated shocked face: Excuse me! ?

Elvira : All I want to do is sing a sexy duet with MY husband. (Emphasis on the MY) She winked at Pedro

Oscar was already putting their name on the list , there was still a few people before it would be their turn. On his way back he grabbed a few shots for all of you.

Pedro turned to help Oscar with the shooter glasses: -Your wife sings like an half dead cat , I will need multiples of these.

Elvira punched Pedro on the arm while you and Sarah giggled at their imaginary love triangle.

Sarah: y/n should sing! She will change your mind about karaoke Pedro. She sings like an angel!

You blushed.

Oscar teased his friend : you should sing his favorite song!

Pedro immediately interrupted him, making no signs with his head and both his arms : oh no! No, no, no, no, no. Do not touch Prince. NO!

Sarah: I know! You should sing Dreams! You have the perfect voice for that song. Anyway, you can’t sing any Pink Floyd songs , those are just for me , plus this bar is not the vibe for that.

- Wow Sarah , are you flirting with me ? I have the voice to cover Stevie ? Please , no.

Even if you wanted to protest the song choice , it was too late. Elvira literally jumped out of her seat and was already adding your name to the list. It’s not that you didn’t want to sing , you loved it , but now the pressure was on. What if they didn’t like how you sing it ? What if Pedro didn’t like it ? The moment you met him, you needed him to like you. Was that how you felt with all your past “little crush”? Once again, you were lost in your spinning mind.

Sarah brought you back to earth : - don’t worry , your voice is magical. She thought you were worried about your skills.

For the next hour, you mostly had to listen to bad singers , it was almost torture sometimes. Fortunately, the alcool was smoothly flowing , making it all more bearable. Even Pedro looked like he was having fun. Every time he laughed he immediately clung to the person who made the joke. Resting his head on their shoulder, reaching out to hold their arm or squeeze their tight just above the knee. You couldn’t help and match his energy, every single thing he said that made you laugh you touched his skin. His wrist, his bicep, his neck. You were too far into your gin tonic consumption to care what people would think of it, what he would think of it.

It was finally Oscar and Elvira’s turn to sing. They chose to sing the Dirty Dancing hit “time of my life”

Pedro was exasperated : damn they are so annoyingly cheesy.

That they were , but it was so adorable at the same time. Their love was radiating on stage. Elvira was indeed a bad singer , half dead cat would not be your choice of words, you were too polite for that. Oscar could hold a note , but he kept messing the lyrics of the song, they both laughed in their microphones when they missed a word. You and Sarah cheered for them like it was the most crucial sport event.

———-–—————————————————

Pedro was genuinely having fun. The running gag was that he hated karaoke, he did , but seeing his friends having fun was way more important to him than his hatred of bad singing. Elvira and Oscar were doing their thing on stage and he was impressed by their lack of self awareness. They massacred that poor song. He cheered for them anyways. They ended their performance by doing a little spinning dance move , it was disgusting how much they loved each other.

Pedro could hear you ask Sarah: Seriously Sarah , this kind of love really exists ? Or is it just for them?

Pedro felt a sting in his heart. He wondered why you didn’t believe it could exist? Wondered if someone hurt you in the past. He wasn’t really a big believer in love with a capital L himself , he didn’t really do relationships, but it wasn’t okay with him that you would have this kind of thoughts, that you would feel that way too. It felt unfair. Since he met you, he felt very protective of you. You were so sweet and kind.

Sarah : I think it exists , but theirs is definitely one of a kind.

Elvira was skipping her way to your table , still on her adrenaline high.

-We slayed it!!! Didn’t we ?

-Pedro pointed his right ear : Sorry , I can’t hear you , my ears are bleeding.

Elvira raised her two middle fingers at him and mouthed a very felt “fuck you P”.

Oscar came to his wife defense: you were perfect my love , I’m the one who forgot entire parts of the song. Pedro is just jealous that I didn’t slow dance with him on stage.

Pedro touched your shoulder : hey y/n ! I think it’s your turn. He watched you get up of your seat and walk towards the stage. You looked relaxed and confident. Maybe she really is a good singer he thought or maybe she’s just too tipsy to be bothered by any of this.

He followed your every step. He didn’t realize before that moment how little you were wearing tonight. Just a tiny lilac summer dress. Your legs, shoulders , cleavage , all exposed under the intense stage lights. Your dress was way too short for you to stand close to the edge of the stage. You were not that drunk, he saw you take a few steps back when you realized some creeps in the front were more than happy to look up your dress. You nodded to the host and the song began to play in the loud room.

Dreams was one of his favorite songs. He was a huge Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks fan. Normally, he would dread the moment you would open your mouth to sign his favorite lyrics , but right now he was just curious. He was hypnotized by the way you swayed your hips to the beat. Those few seconds at the beginning of the song felt like minutes to him. Right before you parted your lips to sing your first note you looked at him and winked. He felt everything squeeze inside of him, like his heart stopped. He held his breath , hoping he wouldn’t have to lie to you later and pretend he liked your voice. He felt the urge to cover his ears to avoid to deal with that possibility. But then he heard you.

🎶 Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom

His body instinctively relaxed , but he had to listen more , just to be sure.

🎶 Well, who am I to keep you down?

The noise in the bar significantly went down.

🎶 It’s only right that you should play the way you feel it. But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness.

- No fucking way ! That’s all Oscar could say looking at Sarah with a surprised expression in his face. Elvira was already clapping hard for you.

- Told you guys , an angel.

🎶 Like a heartbeat, drives you mad

That was his favorite lyric in the song , his jaw dropped slightly. Your voice was soft and smooth. It was definitely different from the original singer but it was beautiful. By the time your were at the chorus he was completely lost in your voice. Feeling the beat passing through the speakers and vibrating straight into his chest. The bar was quiet, everyone dropped their beer to drink at your words instead.

~Maybe he likes karaoke he thought , nooooooo, maybe he likes you. ~

It felt like he was gone for so long when you sang the last words.

🎶 Oh oh oh , you’ll know ….

The crowd went crazy when you finished. And then suddenly his feeling flipped and it felt like he didn’t really have time to enjoy your performance , it went by too fast.

——————————————————-

You smiled at your audience and did a little bow before exiting the stage. You were overwhelmed by the crowd’s reaction. You focused on your group of friends , walking back towards them with the biggest smile on your face. You did it , they liked it.

Elvira was the first one jumping in your arms , she was so excited.

-OMG Baby, you should sing for a living , that was amazing . I feel like I should pay you right now.

You laughed, she was exaggerating , but you were grateful for the compliment. Oscar was next, bowing before you.

- I surrender at your talent , queen of karaoke. El and I will give you our crowns.

Sarah sang proud and loud : I TOLD YOU GUYS!!!

Pedro looked at you with his big brown eyes and his bright smile and pulled you close to hug you. He whispered in your ear

- you almost made me cry.

You stayed in his arms for a while, he held you tight, his chin on your head.

The night slowly came to an end, the conversations began to be more sparse and you all agreed that it it was time to go back to your respective apartment. You went to bed feeling proud and feeling loved. You fell asleep trying to remember how it felt to have his arms wrapped around you.

———————————————————

Pedro was lying in his bed , thinking about the night , about how he felt. What he felt wasn’t new to him, but it was something he didn’t feel for a long time. He didn’t let himself feel that way, he never let himself be in situation that could lead him to feeling that way. When did he let his guard down? That squishing feeling inside his stomach, he could not shake it off. He could not be in love ? It was just silly… He could not be in love just because you had the sweetest singing voice he ever heard ? That’s just stupid. He knew it wasn’t just that. Your hips, your lips, your skin, your eyes , your laugh, your smile.

- Fuck.

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #fluff

[whiskeyncoke-redux]

Across the Room

Pedro Pascal x Reader

A/N: I was asked to write a fic based off this gif... so here ya go. Enjoy.

Warnings: Light smut (oral F receiving) 18+ ONLY | Minors DNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t want to be here; not at some fancy party with a bunch of “fancy” people you didn’t know. You would rather have been at home, curled up on your couch with your nose stuck in a book, or even better, relaxing in a hot bath with candles lit, but your friend Veronica (Ronnie for short) had gotten you to come out with her. She had begged, bargained, and even bullied you a little bit. She needed company, she had told you as you got dressed. You had rolled your eyes at her as she went on about only being invited because of a friend of a friend, so she was sure she wouldn’t know anyone there. 

Yeah right, you thought.

But nevertheless you pulled on the dress she had brought for you and followed her out to the waiting car.

Now here you were, dressed up and in shoes that pinched your feet, causing you to shift from foot to foot ever so often. Not wanting to mingle, you chose a spot near the wall, where you could just watch the crowd of people milling around talking and dancing to the music. And Ronnie, who had claimed she wouldn’t know anyone there, moved between each cluster, mingling.  

At least she is having fun, you thought as you heaved a sigh and took another sip of your drink, she was in her element: being surrounded by people. You, on the other hand, had been ready to go as soon as you had stepped out of the car. 

When she looked over at you and jerked her head to try to get you to join her, you just frowned slightly and shook your head. She decided then to head over to you, which prompted you to roll your eyes at her.

“Don’t give me that attitude, Y/N!”

“I don’t have an attitude,” you argued.

“You do,” she said. “Why are you still standing here?”

“I told you I didn’t want to come! These are your friends, not mine!”

“Listen, all I'm saying is that you look too good to just stand against the wall here all night. I made sure of that.”

You looked down at the dress she had had you put on. It was gold and white, sleeveless and - something Ronnie made sure of - fitted to your body to perfection. You had to admit (reluctantly and to yourself, of course) that you looked good.

But you wanted to be stubborn. “It absolutely means that!”

“Y/N!”

“Veronica!”

It was her turn to roll her eyes at you, as she let out a sigh of frustration “So what are you just gonna stand here all night?”

You shrugged. “Maybe.” 

“Hmph,” Ronnie grunted. “Well, I've seen a lot of people eyeing you.”

“No,” you said in disbelief.

“Yep, like that man over there at the bar,” she said, and nodded in that direction. You followed her gaze and when your eyes met his, you felt your heart leap.

“So, again I ask, are you just gonna stand here?”

ACROSS THE ROOM

As Pedro stood at the bar waiting for his drink, he sighed to himself. Another boring ass party. He didn’t know why he kept coming to these things. Because you were bored, he told himself. At least the drinks were free and he planned to take full advantage of that.

Once he got his drink, he thanked the bartender and turned to look out over the crowd of people there. He smiled and nodded to a few people he vaguely knew but couldn’t quite place. He headed out into the crowd and chatted to a few people for a few minutes, although he couldn’t exactly remember their names, before heading back over to the bar to freshen up his drink. As he was waiting on the bartender he scanned the crowded room for the host, all the while thinking of a viable excuse to give them to leave early. This party was a bust as far as he was concerned. 

He got his fresh drink and took a sip, still scanning the crowd, when something caught his eye. He stopped and took a good look. He saw you standing there in deep conversation with your friend. The gold in your dress seemed to make you glow in the lights. He noticed your friend nod in his direction and then you looked over at him. 

Once your eyes met, everything around him seemed to slow down. He couldn’t hear the conversations around him; there was a rushing sound in his ears. He felt his heart skip a beat.  If he hadn’t known better he would have thought he was having some sort of attack. He was rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of you. 

Something deep, and urgent took hold of him.

Back on your side of the room, you could barely hear what Veronica was saying to you.

“Hellooo, earth to Y/N!” Veronica waved her hand in front of your face. “Are you even listening to me?”

You jerked your head away from the man at the bar. “Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. What were you saying?”

She laughed. “Damn, you weren’t even paying attention to me.”

“Yes, I was.”

“No, you weren’t. You were too busy drooling over that guy at the bar.”

“I wasn’t drooling,” you said, turning to look at the bar again.

“Anyway,” Veronica said, grabbing your hand to make you look at her. “As I was saying: are you gonna stand here all night?”

You shook your head slowly. “Nah, I’m not,” you said, grabbing your drink and shaking your hand from her grip. You took one more look at the man who was still staring at you, and headed to the doors that lead outside to the terrace. Something about the way he looked at you, his gaze, made you feel… not, exactly uncomfortable, but unsettled. 

Pedro’s eyes followed you as you took one more look at him before grabbing your drink and heading to the doors leading outside. He downed his drink, before ordering another, and quickly drank that one too; then he found himself heading over to you, pushing through the crowd. He was filled with a nervous, but oddly determined energy. 

Before you could push the doors open to head outside, he caught up with you. 

“Excuse me…”

He reached out and grabbed your arm. Normally, a strange man grabbing you would have caused you to make a scene, but as soon as his hand made contact with your skin, you felt a rush of heat flood your body. You stopped and turned to him, your eyes locking onto his. They were a gorgeous, sweet dark brown, reminding you of warm coffee, which made your breath hitch in your throat.

You cleared your throat. “Yes?”

The both of you stood there, unsure of what to say, but totally captivated by each other. You felt his hand slide down your arm to your hand. Before you knew what was happening, you felt him pull you back near the center of the floor. You barely registered the music that was playing as you felt him rest his other hand on your waist; you took your free hand and placed it on his shoulder as you both began to sway to the music. 

Neither of you said anything, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other. It felt as if no one else was there; it was just the two of you in your own little world. No words were needed. It was just  the heat and electricity passing between you. You never wanted to let go, to let this moment end. Right then, you were in your own personal heaven. You and this complete stranger, who somehow felt like someone you’d known forever. All you could focus on was the feel of his hands: one in yours, the other on your waist; and you began to wonder how those hands would feel touching you in other places.

Somehow, sometime, between songs, you had stopped dancing, tugged on his hand, and led him outside to the terrace. The fresh air cleared your mind, but only slightly. He still had your hand in his and he pulled you away from the cluster of people that were out there. You stopped around a corner, eyeing each other. You smiled shyly under his gaze which caused him to grin. You felt your breath hitch again, his smile seemed to light up the darkened corner you were in. 

“So…” he began, his voice, even with that one whispered word, sent shivers down your body. 

“Yeah…” you whispered back.

You don’t know what came over you, but before he could open his mouth to say another word, you had grabbed him and pulled him close. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. All you could think about was him and what you so desperately wanted, needed, to do with him. Your hands slid up his strong arms, to his broad shoulders, before tangling in his hair. Your fingers tugging slightly on the dark chestnut locks. 

With a small grunt, you felt him take a step forward, causing you to bump against the wall. His large hands on your back, sliding down to your hips, before reaching around and grabbing your ass. You let out a small gasp, and he shushed you, before biting you lightly on your neck. You have to bite down on your lower lip to stop another, louder gasp escaping your lips. You had to settle for grinding against him, wanting him more and more.

He bunched up your dress. It was over your knees before he stopped for a second.

“You sure?”

You nod and let out a single, breathy “Yes.” Looking into his eyes to drive home the point. 

You wanted him, right then, right there. Never before had you felt this. Needing no other reassurances, he pushed your dress up over your hips. He trailed his lips from your neck, down to your exposed cleavage, before sinking to his knees in front of you. You felt him kiss then bite at your stomach, then up one thigh, then the other. When you bucked your hips, you could swear you felt him smirk, before sliding your panties to the side. Then you felt his tongue make contact with your soaking wet core, you had to cover your mouth with your hand, because the sound that would have escaped would have definitely brought attention to you two. 

It was all you can do to keep quiet, as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. Your upper back was flush against the wall, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs as his tongue worked his magic on your pussy. He licked a stripe up your exposed pussy lips before swirling his tongue around your clit. He then began sucking on your sensitive nub, while sliding one finger, then another inside you. Pumping them slowly in and out of your wetness, you hear a soft squelching noise. When did you get this wet? The thought was chased from your mind when you felt him remove his fingers and slip his tongue inside you. 

At the very back of your mind, you were sure someone could hear the light slurping noises he was making, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you could focus on was his hands on your thighs, his head between your legs, and his mouth and tongue alternating between your pussy and clit. And that pressure building in the pit of your stomach. 

You heard yourself let out a slightly audible “Fuck!” when he wrapped his lips around your clit again and started sucking as he curled his fingers deeper inside you, finding that sensitive area deep inside you. Your legs started shaking as you felt that pressure build into a heat that then spread from your core to the tips of your fingers and toes. If he hadn’t been holding you up, you were sure you would have collapsed on the ground. He held you up as you rode out your orgasm. 

When your breathing evened out, you looked down at him, who was smiling at you from under your dress. You smiled back then stuck your hand out to pull him up. He grabbed your hand with a slight wince, he stood up. 

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Fantastic,” you breathed out, before pulling him against you and kissing him deeply again. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he slid his into your mouth.

Your hands were close to undoing his pants when you heard someone calling your name.

“Y/N? Y/N where  are you?”

“Shit.” 

“What is it?” he asked you, only half paying attention since his hands were busy pushing your dress back up.

“Someone’s looking for me.”

“Y/N?” It was Ronnie and you could hear her footsteps coming closer to the corner where you were. “Are you out here?”

With a frustrated sigh, he reluctantly pushed himself from you and you both straightened your clothes. Shyly you stepped out of the shadows and around the corner.

“There you are!” Ronnie said, hurrying towards you. “What were you doing back there?”

“I…” you started but didn’t get a chance to finish because she kept talking.

“Listen I saw Jared, I gotta go.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I’m in no mood to be in the same place as him,” she ranted as she grabbed your arm and began pulling you away.

But your feet were rooted to the spot. “Ronnie, slow down. What’s happening?”

“Y/N, didn’t you hear me? Jared is here…”

“I heard that…”

“And I don’t want to be in the same place as him. Now come on!”

“But I…”

“You’ve been wanting to leave all night, so let’s go!”

She gave your arm one harder yank and you stumbled forward. 

“But…” was all you could say as you looked back at the darkened corner. You saw him standing there, leaning against the wall, watching you be pulled away. You gave him an apologetic look before you let yourself be pulled away.

—

A WEEK LATER

“Are you still upset over that guy?” 

You gave your friend a look. “Yes. Yes, I am Veronica!”

“Ouch, okay, I get it. I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Can’t you forgive me?”

“I already have… I just wish you hadn’t pulled me away before I even got his name.”

Ronnie nodded. “Understood… I still can’t believe you did that before even finding out his name, let alone in public. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

You had to admit that it was very out of the ordinary for you. You were more of a wait-til-the-third-date kinda gal. But there was something about him, something you couldn’t shake even still, after a week. You had thought about him everyday (and night) since. The way he had made you felt, was something so unreal, so deep, it still had a grip on you.

Ronnie saw the look on your face, the look you would get lately that meant you were thinking about him. She shook her head. She had never seen you like this before and she wished that she could do something to help you, but she had no idea where to start. 

She led the way down the hall to your office. “So, what do you want to do for lunch?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know, you decide.”

Ronnie gave you a look and pushed your door open. “Well I was thinking about that place… woah!” 

You looked up at what had caused her to stop talking. There on your desk sat a bouquet of red roses.

“Where did those come from?” she asked you.

“No idea,” you said, as you walked towards your desk. 

 You looked at them and inhaled their sweet perfume. 

“Oh, look at the card,” Ronnie said, and she picked up an envelope and handed it to you.

You opened it and read the short message:

Y/N,

I hope the flowers are a nice surprise. I have to say I had quite a difficult time finding you since you didn’t give me your name, but luckily I heard your friend say it. I did some asking around through the host, and found you through a friend of a friend. I’m hoping that this doesn’t come off as creepy, but I had to find a way to get in contact with you and hopefully see you again. The way you made me feel was something I never felt before. 

So, how about dinner Friday at Gino’s at 6? If you don’t come I’ll understand, but I hope to see you.

-Pedro

“Pedro,” you whispered, as you looked up at Ronnie. “That’s his name.”

“These are from him? Oh my goodness! The man’s got taste,” Ronnie said, glancing at the flowers again with approval. “So what did the note say?”

“He found me through a friend of a friend and wants to meet for dinner on Friday at six.”

“I take it from the look on your face, you’re gonna go.”

All you could do was nod, smile, and sniff at your roses again.

—

Friday after work, you rushed home to change. Your boss had decided to hold a last minute meeting and you were running late. You cursed as you ran back out to your car after a quick shower and change of clothes. It was 5:53 when you got in your car and Gino’s was at least 20 minutes from your place. 

As you drove as fast as the law allowed, you prayed to every single god you had ever heard of to please let Pedro still be there at the restaurant when you got there. You pulled up to the place and spent five minutes driving around to find a spot. Once you got one, you hopped out of your car, straightening your dress and patting at your hair. You glanced down at your phone. It was almost twenty after six. 

“Shit!” you said as you walked as fast as your heels would allow you to the entrance up to the hostess’s stand. 

—

Pedro sat there at his table, silently cursing himself, of course the roses were too much. He probably scared you off. He looked down at the time. 6:16. Maybe you weren’t coming. He pushed his chair back with a sigh and was about to get up, when he took one last glance at the door. 

He saw you rush up to the hostess’s stand. Once again he froze as he felt his heart skip a beat. All conversation around him seemed to go quiet as he heard that rushing sound in his ears again. He couldn’t help but smile while watching you presumably tell the hostess you were looking for him. He stood as she led you to him.

“Thank you,” you said softly to her.

Pedro made his way over to your side of the table and held out your chair for you to sit.

Once he sat back down, the two of you just stared at each other for what seemed like hours, just drinking each other in.

You broke the silence first. “Sorry I was late. Meeting at work ran long.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“I’m glad you’re still here, I thought I had missed you.”

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he confessed.

“There’s nowhere else I'd rather be,” you told him, which caused him to smile, lighting up his face, and, you could swear, the area around you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @shellbilee @liquorlaughslove @ziggyrocket @thegetawaywriter @a-little-counter-esperanto​ @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @darth-anakin-bucky​

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal rpf #rpf smut #javier peña #javi gutierrez #dieter bravo #din djarin #whiskey writes

[f10werfae]

Por Vida

pairing: Sugar Daddy!Pedro Pascal x Female!Reader

summary: Post-Sex aftercare with sugar daddy Pedro, with lots of pillow talk and sweet promises (Dilf Warning 😘🫶)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶

Full Masterlist/ Disclaimer 18+

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“But it’s not fair!” Y/n whined resting against his bicep, her newly manicured fingers grasped around his arm, his lips focused on peppering kisses all over her face; finally landing on her lips to shut you up. “I know mi vida, daddy knows, i’m here to make it all better yeah?” He whispered cupping her jaw, nodding along with her as she giggled against his lips. One of his hands massaging over her breast.

“you smell so good, so soft, my gorgeous woman” He whispered bringing her nude body closer to his side, both of them mixed with his bedsheets, allowing her to rant about her colleagues who just couldn’t keep to themselves. “Stop it! Stop tryna butter me up and let me vent” Y/n whined slapping his chest then kissing it gently, with him chuckling in return, his hands venturing down to take a sneak of a grab at her ass; earning him another squeak and a giggle.

“Can’t help it amor, you’ve got me wrapped around your pretty finger” Pedro whispered interlacing their fingers, bringing it to his lips and kissing it, both of them still clearly dazed from the post-sex haze. “Hm well you’ve got me wrapped round this” Smirking, Y/n took her other hand, softly pumping the limp cock laying between her thighs. “You really are something else” He laughed kissing her again, he just loved those lips of hers

“Yeah? Well ya better put a ring on my finger before anyone else finds out about me” She whispered tracing his lips with her finger, seeing him widen his eyes and throw a scowl her way, “Fuck you for putting that thought in my head, acting as if you’re not in my sheets, my arms and in my heart” He growled nuzzling in closer to her, grazing the tip of his nose on her cheek as he kissed her face all over again.

“I know, am just playing with you old man, you get so cooked up so easily” Rubbing over the creases on his forehead, she felt his lips travel down to her breasts, taking a tit in each hand as he massaged, sucked and kissed at each hardened nipple. “When it comes to you, yes, cause we need each other baby, por vida” Coming back up to face her, he took her hand and purposefully kissed the space on her ring finger, letting her know it wouldn’t be that long before there’d be a rock on it. A mighty diamond, fit for his sugar babe.

His Spanish making her feel weak at the knees, he always spoke it so softly towards her, even bringing it out during the filthiest and dirtiest love-making sessions. Sure it may have started from a sugar baby website, but that was besides the point. 5 months of pure ruthless fucking and shopping, lead to dates and sleepovers; with Y/n practically living in his house by month 8. Now a year and a half into this relationship, things were definitely heating up with progression, both sets of parents reminding them that time wasn’t on their side; them wanting grandchildren ASAP.

“Por vida” She nodded replying back, the words simply rolling off her tongue from the amount of times she’s said it, his nose nudging hers playfully as he captured her lips once again. Her whines and whimpers increasing in volume once their tongues met out in the open, the wet smacking sounds filling their bedroom, their kiss was as sensual as you could get. Their lips gently massaging each others, with Pedro pulling away every few seconds to peck her repeatedly to tease her, and taking another few seconds to just stare at his woman, “You’re so beautiful, mi corazon, I can’t wait to start our life together”

“M-me too” She stuttered feeling flustered, one of his arms resting under her head, the other now settled back on her hips; kneading her skin greedily. Tracing the ink on her hips, a simple cursive ‘P’ tattooed only a place he would ever be able to see, making it that even more special, with her initial being on the underside of his ring finger. Of course when Y/n found out she went crazy at it, only for him to remind her “This spot is reserved for our ring my love, just reminding people it’s taken” He would say, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to calm her down.

“Imagine our wedding picture right above the fireplace in the front room and the tiny pitter patter of feet, our little ones running in here every morning to wake Mama and Papa” Speaking lowly he trailed wet butterfly kisses all over her collarbone, softly grinding his hardening length on her mound, here we go again…

———

PSA: First time writing for Pedro Pascal and it was quite fun actually, let me know if you would want more from him 🫶🫶🫶

See you all at the next update in a few days :)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x female reader #sugar daddy!Pedro #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #rpf #romance

[josephquinnswhore]

Hello

I’ve had this idea for a while :}

What if reader and Pedro had a la la land moment when they break up and then reunir two years later at an awards show and realize they still have feelings for each other

Like right person wrong time :>

Finding Our Way Back

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x female reader.

Summary: you and Pedro rekindle your relationship after seeing him at an award show, it’s been two years since you’ve separated and he looks better than ever.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warning: allusions to reader that worked in a shit workplace, fluff.

Note: thanks so much for requesting. Thought I’d do the MTV awards since he’s nominated and I’ve already written about Pedro at the Oscars! I hope you love it 🫶🏼

As an interviewer for Vanity Fair, you knew it was highly likely that you’d run into your ex boyfriend, Pedro Pascal at the MTV awards as he was nominated with Bella Ramsay in the category “best duo,” after his latest role as Joel Miller. Although things had ended amicably on both ends, it had been two years ago since you split; your maturity, respect and the love you still had for him played a part in that clean break. You wanted to beg for him to stay with you, to try and make things work; but he was having a big breakthrough in his career and you couldn’t be selfish with him, after decades of his hard work to get to where he is now, so you let go. After years of smaller roles, despite you reassuring him he was incredible in all roles he played, he knew this one would change his life, working on a project with his idol Nick Cage.

Funnily enough, being in this situation was how you met. You standing at an event in a dress that was too tight and itchy on your skin, waiting to interview the nominees for this award show. Although all those years ago you didn’t work for such a well known, respected company as VF.

You worked for a small company called For You Entertainment, they were working their way up the ladder attending small events with D-List celebrities when your producer thankfully got you a breakthrough, an interview with the cast of Narcos at the end of season 2 premiere. You were nervous and fidgeting with your lilac sequin dress that was so tight you were cursing your stylist internally for making you wear clothing that was a size too small for your waist. Your lungs felt heavy as they couldn’t inhale fully, the feeling of being claustrophobic in your own skin was dizzying, along with the sweatiness of your hands and the bright light from your film crew, it was all too much. A staff member from the event, led Pedro to you and you knew you were screwed, the knowing look in those chocolate brown eyes, he knew how anxious you were feeling, he read you instantly. Your co-workers were ready to begin filming when Pedro held his hand up, signalling for the men to stop momentarily, and they did.

“Hey, I’m Pedro. It’s so nice to meet you…”

His hand meets your own as you introduce yourself, he catches the wobble in your voice as your confidence plummets to the ground beneath your heels. He offers a kind smile and you’re enamoured by how kind he’s being, how gentle and attentive he is; he was doing whatever he could to make you comfortable.

“Are you okay?”

You let out a shaky breath and huff out a small laugh,

“this is my first ever interview with like, a real celebrity and you’re my celebrity crush. Plus this dress is a size too small which they picked on purpose, something about making my boobs perkier.”

The speed at which your mouth rambles leaves your brain unable to comprehend the words that leave them for a few seconds, the moment you register what you say your eyes are wide and Pedro is laughing sweetly.

“It’s a pleasure to be here with you, don’t be nervous, I think you look stunning. You can do this, I’m here to help you make things go smoothly! Shall we?”

How wrong he was, he wasn’t just like any other guy, that’s what drew you in, he sucked you into his orbit, the gravity holding you down to him. Alas, you agree to start the interview. Your nerves somewhat shaken and cheeks a deep shade of red, along with a tingle of heat on your face you’d never experienced prior to Pedro’s flattery.

“Let’s do this.”

You bare a shy grin and give the camera man a thumbs up as they prepare to start the interview.

There was nothing wrong with your relationship with Pedro. It had just seemed like the relationship had run it’s course through the years. You were studying and working full time, 60 hours a week you were in a chokehold of being underpaid and overworked, being younger, new to the industry and vulnerable, you let your boss expose you to the cruelty of the profession when you had several employees that treated you like a doormat. Pedro had always insisted he hated how much you worked for them; how terribly they treated you and crushed your potential within months, that you could achieve more.

Pedro has just gotten a main role in “the unbearable weight of massive talent” when things fell apart, he was incredibly hard working and committed to his work life, the man that was practically married to his career left you in a position of what felt like roommates more than actual lovers. The conversation was hard and you almost didn’t go through with it; you knew you’d regret it but it was necessary, you couldn’t live like this anymore. You missed the intimacy and the connection, feeling like you were in a loveless relationship even though you loved him endlessly.

He had gotten home from a long day of filming, body slumped as he walked through the door, hours and hours on end of filming had him exhausted, he was surprised to see you sitting on the couch with the light and tv on when he walked through the front door.

“Hey, you’re up?”

The confusion in his voice was evident and you inhaled a shaky breath, turning to face him, you nearly backed out of your plan like a coward. Instead you invite him to sit next to you.

“Yeah, we need to talk, will you come sit?”

Pedro’s thick eyebrows are pinched in a frown, looking his age when the wrinkles in his face become evident. The lounge dips as he sits next to you, his large hand on your knee as his brown eyes watch you.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice is cautious and you just exhale, not questioning your own judgment.

“I think it would be in both our favours if we part ways, I’d prefer if we could do this amicably and still be friends afterwards. There’s no connection or intimacy anymore, we’re both too busy. Maybe if,” you sigh loudly unable to find the courage to finish the sentence. Luckily, Pedro knows what you’re thinking.

“If we were at a different stage in life, right?”

He finishes the thought in your head and you nod, fat tears falling down your face, his arms are quick to pull you into a hug, your head rests on his shoulder and he kisses the back of your head.

“I still love you, maybe things will work out for us one day, hm?”

You chuckle, the noise wet as you choke back your tears, “that would be a dream wouldn’t it?”

Having worked for Vanity Fair for the past 12 months, you had met some well known A-list celebrities, some in which would be here tonight at the mtv awards, some people attending not as well known but still nonetheless attending and perfectly deserving of your attention. Your black cocktail dress hugged your figure perfectly, hair pulled upward and styled neatly. Your faces natural beauty was accentuated by the light make up that had been carefully applied by the companies make up artist. The shades of pink and gold on your eyelids were glistening in the lights that shone a bright white overhead as you stood in the middle of the walkway right before the entry to the building where the awards were being held.

Your manager had warned you sympathetically that Pedro was one person you’d be interviewing, it didn’t take much reassuring on your behalf to assure her that although and and Pedro hadn’t really spoken since you broke up; besides the yearly birthday messages and him liking your Instagram posts, that things were okay between you and you were happy to interview him.

When you see him, he’s looking as handsome as ever. His brown hair had a few greying strands on the side of his head near his temples. The purple suit he wears clings to his body and he wears it with finesse, the grapefruit colour makes his skin look its glowing in a golden light, the suit hangs off his broad shoulders with no room to spare. A small heart-shaped patch in his black and grey beard was still failing to fill with hair on the left side of his face. He smiles so widely when he sees you, quickening his casual pace to a speed walk to bump his body into yours, wrapping his strong arms around you to pull you into a hug, his big muscles bulging against your dress-clad skin. You accept the hug and pull him into you, squeezing him as your arms wrap around the back of his neck, the cologne he wears compliments the natural musk of him that you recognise and miss so dearly.

You fight the urge to look at his plump lips a second time, the shade of pink whispered sweet words to draw you into him like a hypnotist, threatening you to kiss him against your will. He pulls back and stands tall next to you, he towers over you, even in your 3 inch heels.

“Pedro Pascal, what a warm welcome. Thank you so much for joining us this evening.” You greet warmly, holding the microphone between the small gap between your bodies, he misses the redness on your cheeks as he grins so widely his dimple exposes itself.

“Thank you for having me, it’s so great to be here, and it’s so great to see you, look at you, you’re looking stunning this evening.” He stands a little too close to you than he does anyone else that’s trying to get an interview from him, his fondness of you showing through the camera that records you.

“You always were a charmer weren’t you. This suit is incredible, you’re looking dapper tonight.” Your free hand that isn’t holding the mic gently runs a hand down his suit, keeping your hand on his chest, getting a feel for the material. You grin at the redness of his cheeks before getting to what the fans really want.

“Now, there is something your fans are begging me to address. As the self proclaimed biggest daddy on the internet, are your fans all your children?” Pedro laughs, the sound is ringing in your ears like the most delightful song you’ve ever heard. He takes the microphone from you and turns to the camera, “yes, you are all my children. I will warn you, grogu may get a little jealous.”

“That’s so sweet, why do you think you chose these roles that have you as basically a father figure?” You muse, eyes batting unintentionally as you’re drawn into his charming character. “I mean, truthfully I would love to have kids someday. Since that’s not an option right now I’m opting for the role of playing dad.” Your heart starts racing, both in awe and disappointment, knowing you would never be the one to bare his children, as his girlfriend or wife, you had missed your opportunity years ago.

“Now we do have a question that a lot of people are begging us to ask you and who are we to deny them?Does Joel Miller in the tv series meet the same fate as the game?” Pedro bares his teeth in a grimace and looks directly into the camera. “It’s going to be almost exactly the same, sorry kids.” He shrugs casually before turning back to you.

“Well Pedro it’s been such a delight to talk with you this evening, we’re wishing you and Bella the best to win an award, have a wonderful evening!” Pedros hands cross in front of his torso, fumbling with the silver ring that sits on his pinky. “Of course it’s amazing to see you. Thank you, have a great night.” He waves to you sweetly as he walks off with a staff member that’s leading him into the building. You stop filming and let out a big sigh.

“How are you feeling?” Your cameraman Andrew asks, “I’m okay, just feels like an open wound still, I guess.” He offers a sympathetic smile, “you did great. That was an awesome interview, everyone’s going to love it. Your chemistry is off the charts.”

You silently agree. The chemistry was still there, maybe you should just, text him later as a “it was so good to see you” curtesy text. Regardless of how terrible he was at texting, it would show you made an effort.

It’s been hours since you saw and spoke to Pedro, his image ingrained in your brain every time you close your eyes, where you’re normally met with blackness this night you’re met with his smile, the smell of his natural musk, the scent of his cologne lingered on your own skin as if he lie next to you. The heaviness of his hands as he hugged you felt as if he was still touching you, it made you restless. You were struggling to sleep even when the streets below your apartment began turning off their lights, one by one you seemed to be the only one wide awake in the neighbourhood.

11:28pm. After changing your mind about half a dozen times on what to write, you settle on something kind and friendly, and you send the text: “it was so good to see you tonight, you look great.”

To your surprise it’s barely a minute before he replies: “it was such a pleasure to see you, can I ask you something?”

Your heart is racing as you can barely think about what he could possibly ask, you assure him: “of course, anything.”

The bubble comes up as if he’s typing, then disappears. You grown as you watch him type and delete this message before it finally comes through after a few minutes: “going to bed anytime soon?”

You raise an eyebrow to yourself and whisper, “seriously that’s what took you so long?” And reply to him: “nope, wide awake.”

“Want some company? I can bring coffee.” You rub your eyes in disbelief, wondering if this is real or an illusion.

“Please do. You know how I like it.” You send through your address as you’ve moved to a newer and slightly bigger apartment in the last year. “Be there soon.” He replies without a moments notice.

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself as you rush to the bathroom, attempting to make yourself look presentable, brushing your hair down neatly before braiding it, smoothing out your pyjamas and turning on some lights in the living room as you turn on the tv to Disney Plus turning on Moana as you attempt to sit comfortably.

There’s a soft knock at the door and you get an alert on your phone that someone’s outside, you check your phone, seeing Pedro standing in black pants, a white shirt and a large black trench-coat, a cardboard cup holder in hand with two Starbucks coffees occupying the space. You smooth out your pyjamas once again and unlock the two locks to your front door, feeling winded as you see your ex boyfriend standing there looking as beautiful as ever with a shy smile on his face.

You open the door and step to the side, “please, come in.” He shudders slightly from the breeze that drafts in from outside, your house abnormally warm and the feeling is welcome on his cold skin. “You have a nice place here. How long ago did you move in?” You take the coffees and sit them down in the cup holders in your lounge as he takes off his trench-coat, the atmosphere too warm for the accessory. “Coming up 12 months now. Right after I started working for Vanity Fair.”

You gesture for Pedro to sit on the lounge after he hands his coat on the coat hanger by the door, he keeps a respectable space between you, unlike earlier in the evening where he stood entirely too close. “Moana always was your favourite.” Pedro muses to himself. “Somethings never change.” You reply with a shrug, the statement having a double meaning behind it.

“Yeah, I guess. What’s new in your life anyway. Other than work and all the formalities?” He questions, the hopeful look in his eye beams as you sink comfortably into the grey couch, “nothing really, I’m quite boring these days. The same girl you know.” You sip your coffee and hum in contentment, missing the way Pedro whispered “and love.” After your statement, “thanks so much for the coffee, it’s perfect. It’s any wonder you still remember,” you admit.

“How could I forget my girls coffee order?” Pedro freezes, realisation of what he said sinks in. “I mean, I meant- I didn’t..” he stutters and you rest your hand on his, trying to diffuse his panicked state. “It’s okay, I’ve missed you you know. Seeing you tonight made me realise how much I never got over you.” The admission has both of your skin burning with desire and slight embarrassment. “You feel that way?” His voice is sweet, you wish he would just talk to you all night, you’d simply sit and listen.

“Of course I do. I’ve always loved you Pedro.” Just like that the bomb has dropped, the elephant in the room is too large and suffocating to ignore, you still love him, years later you still love him.

“I’ve been needing to hear that for such a long time. I love you, I was a fool to let you go,” you lean into the warmth of Pedro’s hand as he caresses your face, your heart rate spiking at his touch and confession. “We can always just.. pick up where we left off,” you offer sweetly. Pedro’s eyes raise at your offer, the ball was in his court and he was going to take it. Without another word he pulls you into him, your lips smashing into his, moulding together like two unique puzzle pieces that were made for each other.

You part your lips and grant him access to deepen the kiss, years of unspoken love and missing each other all came to surface with this kiss. When you pull apart you’re both heaving, foreheads pressed together you stare into his chocolate orbs. “Please be mine. I don’t think I could go another day knowing you’re not mine.” You exhale a shaky breath, the taste of him still on your lips, “I was always yours Pedro. We just had to find out way back.” Pedro’s thumb strokes your cheek and let’s put a small laugh, almost in relief. “I’m grateful we did. Everything feels right again.”

You nod as you silently agree with him, the hole left empty now felt overfilled, you knew your cup would never be empty again with Pedro by your side again, “stay the night.” Your nose grazes his cheek as you whisper. He pulls you into his lap, strong arms holding you in place as he kisses your shoulder. “When have I ever been able to say no to you?”

“I’ll teach you how to stop being such a people pleaser one day you know.” You jest lightly. “As long as I have you, none of that even matters, baby.” You turn to kiss him, the intoxicating sweetness of his lips is almost impossible to pull away from. “You’ll always have me. Promise.” A few moments of silence pass before you ask, “did you win the award?” Pedro hums before he realises what you’ve said, pulling his eyes away from the tv, “yeah we did, Bella was stoked, it was such a big moment for them.” You lean into his chest, smiling in content with how perfectly things were falling into place.

#Pedro pascal #mtv awards #Pedro pascal as Joel miller #Pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal x fem reader #Pedro pascal rpf #Pedro pascal x ex girlfriend #right person wrong time #Pedro pascal x interviewer reader

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Series List

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Panic/Anxiety Attack. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f). Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's (or Pedro's) inner thoughts!

Read the story below!

Track 1: Here

Track 2: Here

Track 3: Here

Track 4: Here

Track 5: Here

Track 6: Here

Track 7: Here

Track 8: Here

Track 9: Here

Track 10: Here

~More coming soon!~

More stuff:

The Key To Your Heart Playlist: Here

🎶

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal rpf #rpf #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #A! wrote a fic #Key to your heart

[pedge-stuff]

102 degrees (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked.” drop a line if you have a sug. (:

summary: maybe it's the fever talking, but Pedro might finally be ready to go public with your relationship.

————————————————————————

It’s not a whine, per se— more like a thin, whistle-y exhale as the press tents come into view. A noise of quiet resignation; Pedro is exhausted, and the night hasn’t even started. 

There is little comfort you can offer. You’ve been careful not to touch his face or hair throughout the ride, per the explicit instructions of Mira. This has left you no option but the back of his neck, between the high collar of his overcoat and the lowest hang of his curls. You thumb rhythmically over the overly-warm, slightly damp skin. Small comforts. 

Of course he’d wake up with the flu on the day of the biggest premiere of his career thus far. “Fucking shit-ass karma,” he’d groaned between dry heaves over the toilet that morning. Three negative covid tests and a house-call IV drip later (celebrity medical care is, you’ve come to realize, very fucking weird), he was semi-functional. But fucking miserable.

This once, you’ll give your grown ass boyfriend a pass for whining. 

Though the windows are tinted, you are quick to remove your hand as the car pulls up. He is anxious enough about the evening, without having to worry about people seeing. You know the drill— low profile has basically become your middle name. The only thing worse than having the flu on premiere night, you muse, would probably be Pedro getting outed to the world. 

“It’s going to be fine,” you insist softly, squeezing his knee. “Carpet, premiere, talkback, reception. Easy.” 

He straightens out of his slump against you, taking a deep breath. “Easy,” Pedro repeated, unconvincingly. He sighs.

“Then a full cap of NyQuil and no alarm tomorrow morning.” 

You dare to grip his hand, one last time, as the car slows to a stop. He brings yours to his lips, and presses a (noticeably fever-warm) kiss to the exposed skin of your wrist.

"Only thing getting me through this is the prospect of going back to bed with you tonight."

"Mr. Pascal, are you coming on to me?"

He offers a weak chuckle. "Ask me again when I'm not about to barf in the back of an Uber."

The car slows to a stop. Another deep breath, as Pedro slips an easy mask back into place. "Carpet, premiere, talkback, reception."

— — — 

There are layers to the whole thing. You don’t begrudge his hesitancy, to publicly reveal your relationship. The few times a pap has caught you out together, the TMZ byline is something along the lines of “Pedro Pascal Seen Strolling Sunset with SNL Sidekick.” Perks of heteronormativity, you suppose. 

It’s all him. You’ve been out for a long, long ass time— frankly, never thought you’d go back in, til suddenly you’re signing an NDA and attaching yourself at the hip to a man whose hand you can’t hold in public. 

It’s not that he’s ashamed. (He reassures you of this often.) He’s just private, and unwilling to pop a bubble he’s lived comfortably in for the better part of five decades; sometimes, his perspective on (and fear of) public homophobia speaks volumes to the age gap between you. 

So you stand back, under the cover of the press tents, watching Pedro walk the carpet. You’re in good company— Mira and Coco track him beside you with narrowed eyes, vigilantly monitoring him for accidental hair touches or makeup smudges. 

He sways on his feet between interviews. Your heart clenches.

The carpet is short, much less elaborate than the ones at awards ceremonies. After a few interviews and a series of photographs, everyone starts slowly making their way into the theater.

You hang back in the lobby, a little unsure of how to proceed. There is guest seating in the mezzanine, mostly for the press reporters and various network reps in attendance. It's not a big venue. The main seating is reserved, obviously, for the people actually associated with the show. And their guests. Which is, technically, you, but... Well.

You maybe should have ironed this out prior to arrival. The whole flu thing kinda took priority.

"Yo!" There is a light shove on your shoulder. Bella, flush with excitement and fresh off the carpet, pulls you in for a quick hug. "Your man is so unwell."

They are laughing, though your heart clenches. Poor baby. "This would only happen to him," you agree. "He come in already?" You'd been scanning the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Like a fan. (A fan that spent the better part of the morning pressing a cold washcloth to his neck, sitting on the bathroom floor.)

Bella cocked an eyebrow. "You guys are so fucking weird about this shit." They are privy to the details, courtesy of Pedro. Apparently it was a hot topic of conversation while killing time on set. You'd received many a FaceTime during long stop-downs between takes; calls you'd assume were your boyfriend, but had Bella cackling on the line after you picked up.

As if on cue, a mass of black fabric appears in your periphery.

"Are you conspiring to put me out of my misery?" Pedro is still wearing his 'everything is fine and I'm doing great' press smile.

"Duh." Bella smooths down the front of their blazer. "I think it's gonna start soon? I gotta find my mom."

They wade back into the dwindling crowd, leaving you and your germy boyfriend in the corner. Pedro's eyes are closed, as he takes measured breaths through his nose.

"Oh babe," you whisper quietly. "I'm sorry this is happening to you."

He softens. "It's okay. I'm okay. Gonna be honest, I'm relieved we're about to sit down for a couple hours."

"Just a few more hours left, that's all. I'll see you at the reception?" Your eyes drift to the door upstairs, behind the velvet rope separating press and attendees.

“Are we not—“ He clears his throat, voice breaking weakly. “Are we not sitting together?”

His eyes are glassy, but lack the same fever-bright quality he’d woken up with. The crease between his eyes deepens as he frowns. This feels like the start of a larger conversation that most definitely will not be happening in the lobby of the Regency Village Theater. 

“We can,” you offer cautiously. “If that is what you want.” 

A large, slightly trembly hand grasps your shoulder. “Of course that’s what I want, love. ‘M sorry. It’s dark, it’s safe, I just… I’m so tired.” The last part is admitted in a pained whisper. Your heart aches. It takes a concerted effort to not reach out and touch him. (It usually does, in public. He is a tactile aficionado– preens over little touches, forehead kisses, the brush of your hand over his hair. You offer these so frequently in private, that in public, your hand twitches regularly against the impulses.)

Pedro's manager waves from the other side of the room. He musters a small smile, releasing the grip on your shoulder. "Premiere, talkback, reception. Bed."

In the stiff theater seats, he leans so far over the armrest, you know his back will be sore later. But he tucks himself into your side the moment the lights dim, head on your shoulder. The frame of his glasses digs into your neck, and you couldn't care less. Your focus is on the lines he is tracing into your palm, large hand cupping yours in your lap.

The show is fantastic. Of course. The talkback is short, courtesy of Craig, and the reception is informal enough that you are in-and-out. Pedro makes the rounds while you make awkward small talk with Bella's mom (whose name you always forget, dammit, but she's lovely nonetheless). Take two sips of some cocktail called "Look for the Light" and wait for your cue to leave. Though you remain blissfully flu-free, you have been anticipating the conclusion of this evening as strongly as Pedro.

The Uber home has to make an emergency stop, so the star of the evening can puke water and crackers on the side of Mulholland Drive. You tip well.

And then, hours after he stepped onto the carpet, the prophecy is fulfilled. Pedro is tucked into bed, dogs at his feet, empty but blue-tinged medicine cap discarded on the nightstand beside a mug of water and his glasses.

His face is smushed into the pillow. Eyelids at half-mast, as he watches you change out of your simple suit and into a pair of well-loved flannel bottoms.

You don't need a shirt. On cue, your boyfriend octopus-latches as you slide under the covers, head resting on your bare collarbone.

"You did good tonight," you say, through a yawn. Reach up to tug the chain on the bedside lamp. Your other hand cards through Pedro's hair, detangling little clumps of hair spray he was too tired to brush out. "'M so proud of you."

"I mean it," he whispers back. "It's time. I'm sick of not being able to hold your hand."

Your lips brush his temple. 'We can talk about it tomorrow."

"Plenty of time for it," he mumbles, right on the cusp of sleep. "Since we're not leaving this bed."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal hurt/comfort #bella ramsey