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russellsppttemplates · 7 months

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I thought you didn't want to tell anyone (Charles Leclerc)

It appears that the Leclerc family is growing

Note: english is not my first language. I got this request from @myheartgoesvroom a good while ago and I finally had the time to write it!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions pregnancy symptoms, feeling sick, being bothered by warm temperatures/heat

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are we all ready to go?", Charles checked with everyone inside the jet, seeing the nods and Charlotte, Lorenzo's girlfriend shrug her shoulders, "I slept funny last night, it's just tiredness", she said, closing her eyes and resting her head against the seat, "I'm going to sleep for a little bit".

Charles told the pilot they were ready, sitting next to you in the three seater, his mother sitting next to you on the other end, "I hope you are all going to take this time to rest", Pascale looked at all of you, "if I see any of you checking work e-mails, I'll swat your phones myself", she chuckled, seeing Arthur shake his head and Charles grab your hand in his, "if I see you in your phone, I'm locking it", you threatened, "you need to rest, amour, this season has been pushing you too much", you mumbled, kissing his cheek as Carla started talking about something she had seen on the news.

When you arrived at the airport, it didn't take long until you were in the van that was taking you to the hotel you were staying in, "well, these are some winding roads", Carla said, opening the window to get a little bit of fresh air, "we're nearly there, miss", the driver smiled apologetically, "but it is true, these roads are not the the weak".

"I'm usually fine, but motion sickness is bothering me a lot today", she muttered, taking big and deep breaths as she looked out the window, "it's that one there right? Looks really good!".

The check in was done seamlessly and everyone was given a card key before you headed to the villa, the staff members that helped you with the luggage also explaining a few of the amenities and how the services worked for you since you were staying in a villa and not in the hotel building.

"We have to go see about the rental cars, and the boat, too", Charles put his hands on either of his brothers' shoulder, "which one of you guys want to come with me?".

"I'll join you, and we can stop by the supermarket to get some snacks, yes?", Pascale suggested, grabbing her bag as the boys grabbed their wallets, "do you need us to go?", Charlotte asked, "no need, chérie, they can go and get the cars and we'll do the shopping. Go rest for a little bit, yes?", Lorenzo said to his girlfriend, kissing her forehead and leaving the three of you to unpack.

"The rooms are all pretty identical. The suite is bigger and has a bigger balcony, but they all have a bathroom", Carla pointed out as she opened the door to exemplify, "it has a bigger bed, but Charles will sleep glued to me, it's not like a bigger bed would make much of a difference", you blushed, "so if any of you guys want it, go for it. Or we can leave it for Pascale", you suggested, seeing the other two girls nod and go to each of the smaller rooms, leaving the one closest to the suite to you and Charles.

The room was decorated in a minimalist way, tones of white, beige and light brown complimented by the sunlight coming from the window to the balcony. While the girls unpacked, the boys and Pascale got back and discussed the plans for dinner.

"I can get them to deliver the food to the door, no problem", Charles said as Charlotte admitted that she was hoping for an early night, her headache still bothering her, "we just have to set the table and they'll bring anything we want", he showed them the menu, "I'm not picky", you said, "but if they have that local dish, you know the one with the chicken we had last year in that restaurant? I'll have that", you said to your boyfriend, getting up and heading to the kitchen with his mother, hoping you'd be able to find all the cutlery, cups and plates that you needed.

When the food arrived, everyone helped set it up in the table, "I'm just going to wash my hand quickly and I'll be right back", Charles mumbled, kissing your cheek as he held out his hand that seemed to have some sauce on it.

The first full day began with a walk along the beach since you wanted to get to know the area and Charles didn't mind joining you, walking hand in hand along the wooden decking, "it's really warm today", you pointed out, fixing your cap and adjusting your sunglasses, "yes, last year wasn't so warm, right?", he said, "it's a good thing we always have the time and the opportunity to come here year after year, specially as a family.

"They won't say it out loud, but I know maman, Lorenzo and Arthur, and girls, too, they consider you family already. The guys specially, I think they've always considered you part of our family and Pascale Leclerc herself has never failed to mention how much you and I were made for eachother since I was old enough to understand what that meant", he kissed your knuckles.

"I'm very grateful for that, I'm very grateful for you", you whispered, almost like you were telling him a secret even though you made conscious effort to let him know how much you loved him and cherished him everyday, not wanting him to ever entertain the idea that you didn't feel those things towards him.

The walk was going well until the heat started getting to you, "can we go walk along the water, please?", you caught Charles' attention, "I think it's getting a bit too warm for me, I'm nearly tripping over my steps", you giggled as Charles pulled you to the warm sand, "do you want me to carry you? Get some water? Look, there's a bar", he pointed, walking with you to the beach bar and getting a bottle of water, "here, amour", he handed you the bottle.

"I think it's the heat", you blushed, "and I admit I could be more diligent about my water intake", you admitted, holding Charles' hand in yours and pulling him towards the water, the freshness from the water in your feet helping you cool down.

Walking back to join the rest of the group, you noticed Charlotte in the water with Lorenzo and Pascale while Carla and Arthur stayed in the sun loungers, "I see Charlotte is feeling better, that's good", you smiled, arranging your towell and laying down on it, "can you reapply my sun block, please?", you asked Charles since he was still up.

"Sure", he grabbed the spray bottle, rubbing the product on your skin, "and are you feeling better?", he asked, "I think my mother always has a hand fan with her, I can go a look for it in her bag", he offered.

"Are you feeling okay?", Carla checked, emphasising you, "I'm fine, just bothered by the heat, I was not made for these temperatures", you chuckled.

"Oh, I just remembered that really hot summer in Monaco where you had to stay inside because the heat outside made your face go tomato red in less than a minute!", Arthur teased you, "Hey!! I was about eleven, I was going through puberty and, like I said, I wasn't made for these temperatures", you added, "Carla, if you want to to hit your boyfriend for that one, you have my blessing".

By the time the rest of the group came back, lunch time was approaching and you made your way to the villa, deciding to make something for lunch since you had the fully equipped kitchen. The boys were on the grill and Pascale was seasoning the fish, "you have to make sure it's properly cooked", Lorenzo explained to his younger brothers, assertive that no raw fish would end up on the table, "do you guys need help? Y/N is just finishing the salad, Carla went upstairs and Charlotte also went up to wash the salt off of her skin".

"She's okay, right?", Arthur asked, the worry in his voice noticeable, "I think so, yes, she said something about cream for her shoulders, I think", Pascale quirked her brow, "her skin was slightly red when we walked back here", Charles pointed out, still not convincing his youngest brother as he walked upstairs to check on his girlfriend.

"I don't want that towell, I want this one", Carla stated, swapping the identical towells on top of the sun loungers after everyhting was tidied and you decided to spend the afternoon by the pool, "sure have that one", Arthur smiled charmingly, "do you want anything else?", he asked her, "I can go and get if for you", he said as he saw her negative nod, moving to the lounger next to her, "I'd like a beer, actually", Lorenzo called for him, "then you can get up and go get it yourself, brother".

After you arrived back from dinner, Charlotte went upstairs so she could rest, Lorenzo excusing them and wishing everyone a good night before they went up, leaving you, Charles, Arthur, Carla and Pascale in the outside area, sitting in the sofas as you talked about the plans for the next day, "are we still up for the boat?", Charles checked.

"Do you feel better?", Arthur asked his girlfriend, rubbing her shoulder, "yes, I told you it was just the road. I'm not used to winding roads like that, not all of us can be fine at all that speed and turns and bumps", she nudged her boyfriend, "are you sure? We can just sit it out", Arthur insisted, "I'm fine, Arthur, let me go on the boat with my favourites. You'll also be there, but that's a pain I have to deal with", she teased him.

By the time Pascale asked for your intake on something, you were already asleep, holding one of the pillows, "Oh, bless her", she smiled, catching Charles attention to your figure, "I should take her to bed", he stated, getting up and storing his phone on his pocket.

"How do I...", he mumbled to himself, trying to find the best way to move you to the bedroom without waking up, "you can just wake her up, Charles, like usual", Pascale noticed her son's dilemma, "she needs her rest, she's... she needs all the help she can get from now on", he said, sliding his arm around your back and the other under your knees, successfully holding you safely against him, "Good night everyone, see you tomorrow", Charles said lastly, heading to your bedroom.

When he laid you down on the bed, you stirred a little bit, opening your eyes, "hey, beautiful, I did my best not to wake you up", he cooed, softly touching your cheek, "you can go back to sleep, amour, here", he nodded, taking his t-shirt and shorts off before laying down next to you, pushing you to lay on his chest, "have a good sleep, my loves", he kissed the top of your head.

"Are you sure you're okay?", Arthur asked Carla again for what felt like the tenth time in the thirty minutes they had been on the boat, "if anything feels wrong, you tell me and we will go back to the port?", he nudged, "yes, amour, I will tell you", she told him, looking at you and silently questioning if you too thought this was a bit much, her quirked brow showing her own confusion, "he's just being caring, I guess? It would be worse if he didn't care about you", you reasoned, grabbing your bag and finding a spot to lay on.

"I have your water, amour, to make sure you actually drink more that the average for a little kid", Charles said, walking to meet you in the deck with two big bottles of water, "I have ice cold and room temperature, depending on how you're feeling", she smiled, sitting next to you and placing a tote bag down, "I also have snacks if you get peckish", he said, "we just had breakfast, Charles".

"I know, but of you get peckish, it's okay, it's normal, so you have your snacks here if you want them", he added, laying on his stomach as his arm wrapped your body near your waist, his hand rubbing small circles and shapes on your tummy.

"Lorenzo just called me to check if I was okay. Am I being inconsiderate if I think this is too much?", Charlotte confided with you, "don't look at me, Charles suggested I sit this paddle game out 'and take the opportunity to rest, amour', like that's not what I have been doing", you reasoned, seeing Carla walk in with a pharmacy paper bag, "Arthur asked someone from the reception to bring me this, and then he texted me saying that 'they're safe' for me. Isn't medicine safe anyway?", she took a box from the bag, "those are anti-sickness pills", Pascale recognised after reading the box.

"We all believe something is wrong with them, don't we?", Charlotte was the first to point it out, verbally you soon after found out, as Pascale shook her head as he laughed, "something has been wrong with them since this holiday started. I know I raised attentive boys, but neither of them have let either of you out of their sight, I mean, yesterday I heard Charles tell Y/N that he was going to use the bathroom and he would leave the door semi open so she could call him if she needed anything", Pascale offered, seeing you roll your eyes, "that was true, I was hoping no one heard it", you blushed, "no worries, the walls are not that thick, chérie, and Charles didn't exactly whisper either", she rubbed your shoulders.

"So they're treating us like we are made of porcelain and no one knows what is up with them?", Carla asked, "a couple of nights ago, Lorenzo told me he would wait until I was ready to tell him", Charlotte shrugged, "I just let it slide because I didn't know what he was talking about and, honestly, I was closer to dreamland than I was to here, so I didn't pay it too much attention".

"What would you tell him, though? And it seems like they haven't talked about whatever is going on between them either. Was it something they saw?", you reasoned.

"We have to try and think like they're thinking so we can figure out", Carla said, "a hard task at hand considering how they think", Pascale retorted.

"They've been very caring with us, more than usual, and it's each one of them with each one of us, and not with you", you pointed to Pascale, "do they think we're ill? We're not mad at them, right?", you looked over, "so, it's, like a health thing, something that requires changes in the long run and- Oh no", you pitched in, sure that if you were a cartoon, the light bulb would be lit up on top of your head.

"I think my card is not working properly, I'm going to the front desk to see if they can sort it out or give me a new one", you informed Charlotte and Carla as you closed the door before you. When you went to the front door to grab the towells one of the staff left there, you weren't quick enough and let the door close, and when you tried to ring your card in, it didn't work.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience", the man at the front desk apoligised, "it's okay, these things happen. Thank you again, have a good day", you smiled at him, grabbing your new card and walking back to the villa.

The house had three big bedrooms, the suite, a big living area connecting the kitchen to the living room and the outside was even bigger. You had direct access to the patio where you had a big table and barbecue area, as well as a pool and a big garden with a small gate at the end that led to the beach. Overall, it was the perfect place for you to spend your holiday and you had been looking forward to spending time with family.

You were taking in the view and enjoying how the warm air surrounded you when you stumbled on someone, "I'm so sorry, are you okay?", you asked, looking at the whole situation and seeing a few games on the floor and a small box you recognised from the pharmacy.

"I'm good", a shaky voice said, "I'm sorry I ran into you, I have to admit I was distracted", a young woman around your age apoligised back to you, "I work with kids all day, why would I be so nervous to be pregnant?", she blurted.

Sensing her nerves, you thought you could help her, "do you need help with that? I'm pretty good in a crisis so I can be a sound mind of you want to", you attempted.

"Would you, actually? I really need to vent it all out", she cringed, "I'm staying right here, let me just tell the girls", you opened the door, "Carla! Charlotte!", you called, seeing them join you in the hall, "this is Ana", you introduced, "these are Carla and Charlotte, we are all dating brothers, different ones, I mean", you chuckled, "and Ana here could use our support because she has to take a pregnancy test", you smiled.

"It's very nice to meet you, you can use this bathroom, here", Charlotte said warmly as she opened the door of the bathroom by the stairs.

After reading the instructions, you left Ana to do her thing before she opened the door again, "so,", she smiled nervously, "is this your first time here?". "Yes, we've never been here. Last year we stayed somewhere else. So far, so good", Carla responded, "pardon my question, but are counting on a certain result?".

"My boyfriend and I have been together for a long time, and we've not been not trying, I guess?", she chuckled, "it's just nerve wracking you know? I work with kids, that's why I have all of those games, I work at the kid's club", she explained. The phone with the timer beeped, catching her attention and making you rub her back soothingly as she got it and read the results, "you're pregnant, Ana", you smiled.

"She must've put it in the trash and they saw it, let me check", you said as you walked to the bathroom, "there it is! She put it in the trash and they all saw it", you reasoned.

"Well, that surely explains a lot of it. I have seen Charles, particularly, dote on your like your a porcelain doll, but even these last few days were unusual for him", Pascale chuckled, "the way he helped you up the stairs? That's when it clicked for me that something was really different".

"Well, the things is that there's nothing different", you stated, "and Lorenzo and Arthur too, then!", you rubbed your temples, giggle alongside with the rest of the women in the room, "Pascale, with all due respect because you've raised these men impeccably, sometimes they're not the sharpest", Carla touched her shoulder, "should I be offended because I followed their train of thought?", you wondered.

When the boys arrived back from their paddle game, you and the rest of the group stayed in the living room as they headed up for showers, claiming you'd prefer to stay in for the night since you weren't feeling well, earning all of the three boys' approvals without further questions.

Charles was the first to come down, hair still wet as he walked to you, kissing your forehead, "do you need anything, amour?", he asked and acknowledged your negative answer, sitting next to you and cuddling you to his chest, "have you been feeling good today?", he brushed your hair and pulled it behind your ear. On your end, you were trying your best to keep a straight face, "yes, I'm fine, got all the rest I needed", you smiled, kissing his cheek and allowing him to place his hands under your top you were wearing and touch your tummy.

A little while later, Lorenzo walked dowstairs too, stopping by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for him and another for Charlotte, checking if she was feeling better while Arthur also joined you in the living room.

"I'm just ordering dinner", Charles said as he typed on his phone screen, "they say they can put everything with eggs on the side and separately, and there are no raw ingredients, everything is washed and I-", he was interrupted by Carla's loud laugh.

"I'm sorry, I can't do it, not when I know where all of this is coming from", she continued as Charlottle broke down, too.

"What do you mean?", Charles said as the confusion on his face became clear, "Charles, amour, look at me", you called, "do you think there is something wrong with me? That my health status has changed?", you questioned honestly.

Charles fumbled with his words, "I mean, amour, I- do you want me to say it out loud or whisper in your ear? I didn't know of you wanted to tell anyone because you haven't told me either, and that's okay! But do I say it now?", he yelped, "you're pregnant, Y/N", he stated.

Arthur and Lorenzo got up as if on cue, both belting out "Y/N's pregnant, too?", before looking at their girlfriends and seeing their giggles, "you think the three of us are pregnant?". The brother's looked between them, "I saw the test in the trash bin, and Carla had just been in the bathroom, so I assumed we were having a baby", Arthur reasoned, "Charlotte hasn't been feeling well, it's her test", Lorenzo offered, "are we talking about the same test on that bathroom or has that bathroom been the 'pee on the stick and find out you're pregnant' Station?", Charles argued back.

Chuckling you got up and cupped Charles face with your hands, "it happened once and it's Ana's test", you smiled, "the girl from the kid's club. She was scared to take it and we gave her some support, that's all", you smiled, "no one's pregnant here", you finally said.

The boys made a collective "oh" noise until Arthur spoke, "you were not feeling well and I just thought that it was yours", he said to Carla, accepting her hug, "same goes to you, you kept saying the food tasted funny and I connected the dots, that apparently weren't so clear", Lorenzo said to Carla.

Charles had shifted on his feet a couple of times before he turned to you, "I thought you didn't want to tell anyone, that's why I didn't say anything. If you did not feel comfortable in telling it, it was because you wanted privacy and I respected that. I thought you'd eventually announce it when you were ready so I didn't push for it either, I just wanted to be there", he admitted. You kissed his jaw soflty, "well, there's no baby in here, the test does not belong to any of us".

"It's a good thing to know, though. Whenever the time comes, I'm having enough grandchildren to spoil to my heart's content", Pascale clapped, getting up and heading to the outside area, "Oh, look at that sunset, it's beautiful!".

"So, no baby...", Charles trailed off, holding your hands in his, "I have to admit that, in a way, I'm relieved, because that would change up our lives a lot, especially with three babies in the family", he chuckled, "but when things are more settled, in a few years surely, we can start our family if you want to", he smiled charmingly, "of course, whenever the time comes. I love you, Charles, I love you so much", you smiled, "but, please, whenever that happens, don't coddle me like I'm a porcelain doll", you attempted, "Oh, that will have a to be another negotiation I'm afraid, amour".

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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urf1lterr · 1 year

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afterglow | pedro pascal [1/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 6.8k

status: 1/3 complete

author's note: i actually started this weeks ago but never had the chance to finish. hope you guys like this short one shot even though its gonna be two parts lol. not edited.

"Quick! Spray her hair some more! We need to make sure there's no flyaways," your manager demanded to your assistant, handing over a large can of hairspray.

Objecting, you swat it away making her gasp. "Too much will make me look greasy."

Here you were, all dressed up in your tight corset red dress in the back of some SUV one of your assistant's ordered being a nervous wreck.

If it wasn't for the two shots you had taken before, you were sure you would have fainted right about now. It was your first time attending the notable award show nominated.

And alone.

You did attend the past two years; however, you always had your boyfriend near from a distance as you walked down the red carpet and participated in interviews.

Well, ex boyfriend. But that's irrelevant now.

Of course you knew your team would be three steps behind you majority of the time, but it wasn't going to be the same knowing you had to sit alone for most of the show, especially since you were nominated.

Not that you knew you would win, you were up against women who dominated the screen year after year while you recently got your first big lead after so many years. But it was indeed a huge honor to even come to this point as you knew this might never happen again.

Pulling up to the main entrance, you could hear how loud the fans and paparazzi were through the thick, tinted windows. Your driver quickly jumped out of the car before rounding his way to yours, swiftly opening it, the chilly air instantly making you shiver.

Gulping, you try to hide any signs of fear in your body by smiling widely and immediately directing waves and bows to the crowd as your manager was right behind your ear, constantly informing you on how quicker you needed to be.

You were finally able to get rid of her when another worker offered their hand to you, ushering you to the main carpet for your pictures.

Taking a deep breathe, you are instantly dragged to a spot to start your first poses, doing the same angles- hands on hip and shifting of head- which the paparazzi demanded you do, as you followed down the long path.

Already in the middle of the walkway, you move your arms behind your back as you send a warm smile before hearing another roar from fans. Glancing to your side, you fight the urge to scoff knowing damn well you'd wake up to news outlet making headlines over it.

You just found it incredibly annoying the massive attention being displayed over nothing.

It just so happened that your infuriating ex thought it would be a brilliant idea to make his mark on the carpet right after you. Mentally sighing, you tried finding other things to plant in your head to stop you from cursing him out.

You were not going to let him get to you, especially not on your special night.

Once you came down the end of the road, you were met with your team again before being thrown into a line for interviews.

"If it makes you feel any better," you heard your assistant move up to your ear, whispering as you were neatly fixing the large necklace draped around your neck. "He was totally checking you out."

Backing your head away from hers, you give you a gross look as she shrugged. "Don't make me barf before the show even starts."

One thing about you assistant, she's been with you since the very beginning. From your first agency, she had been assigned to you until she was forced to cease the partnership as you changed companies. So she did that, but with her original company and took the move with you.

She says it's because that's what friends do, you think it's because of the increase in pay.

Since following you around for years, she witnessed all the shy, awkward, romantic, and crying stages of majority of your relationships.

Most certainly remembering the last one real well.

Him being your first love didn't make it any better as it led to you breaking down over the silliest things for months when you should've been moving on.

But every time there was a chance it was understandable to mention his name, your assistant wasted no time trying to make him stuck in your head.

Let's just say she believed what you two had was...special.

Blocking out the rest of her remarks, knowing where she was headed, you get called into an interview. Mentally groaning, it was always the same old questions every year that bore you to death.

How are you? Who are you wearing? Are you in a relationship?

You would always reply truthfully until it came to the last part. Your ex didn't mind publicly announcing it, basically pleading for its unveil anytime you two went out.

You on the other hand disagreed. Being a prominent actor himself, you knew the media would slowly take a toll and make your relationship harder.

This theory often left the two of you fighting constantly for many months, committing cruel and nasty jabs to one another before calling your almost three year-old relationship quits.

That was 10 months ago, tonight being the first time you'd be in the same room since screaming unholy words to each other's faces, throwing fragile objects in all directions before he stormed out of your home, never coming back.

Well, you did change all the locks that same night.

But long story short, only family and friends knew about your relationship from start to finish. Fortunately with that, you didn't have to deal with fans freaking out over the two of you being near one another.

Save that for Austin Butler and Vanessa Hudgens.

Forming a proud smirk, you beam back to the interviewer as she pushed a mic up your mouth. "I'm actually seeing someone."

Gasping, the interviewer looked at the camera in shock, trying to keep her audience engaged, before stepping closer. "Who's the lucky man- or woman?! We don't discriminate." You could hear the fans in the back cheering as more celebrities were passing by. "And just how long have you been keeping your lover locked up?"

'Lover', really?

Faking a grin you knew she thought was believable, you wave your hand in front of her. "He's not ready to be discovered quite yet, he's a little shy-," you wink to the camera as she squeals. "-but 9 months next week."

Ending the conversation with her wishing your nomination and 'relationship' the best of luck, you walked off to find your assistant giving you a disappointed look. "What?"

"Why would you do that?"

Shrugging, you move a strand of hair over your shoulder. "It's not that serious, maybe it'll gain me more publicity."

You didn't care for the attention, you just wanted to find a way to prove that you were moving on in life- for your fans at least. Even if it was a lie and you were still the same person you were 10 months ago.

She just stood there, making her silence loud and clear that she was not by the very least happy. Deep down you knew it was a low move to pull, but it's not like you did it in front of your ex.

Maybe the news will spread tomorrow when you don't have to breathe in the same air as him. Better for you, nonetheless.

"I love your dress," you heard someone praise you as you were in search for your seat. Turning, you were met with your familiar red-head friend. "It really compliments your eye look."

Smiling, you bowed to the famous Jessica Chastain, another actress you met a handful of times.

As the two of you reached out to one another a couple of times, you were indeed introduced by your ex as his close friend was actually a lead in a series with her.

"I could say the same for you, that necklace is breathtaking," you gush as she waves off your warm acclaim.

"I see we're sitting next to each other," she grins ear to ear, gesturing towards the seats nearby. "Good, now I won't have to only talk to my husband during the commercial breaks."

That's how the remaining half an hour went by, catching up on one another's life before the lights slightly dimmed, signaling the start of the award show.

Opening with Jimmy Kimmel's monologue, you quietly giggled from all the jokes he presented, especially the one about Pauly Shore you were sure he would take personally.

Towards the end of his act, you notice the act of violence come up, obviously referring to last year's fallout with Chris Rock and Will Smith, before he started acknowledging popular film heroes across the room.

You slightly jump as his first victim was Michael B. Jordan, exposing you and Jessica in the back trying to jump out of from the camera view but poorly failing, making the people near you laugh.

It wasn't even 30 seconds later before you heard the mention of an all too familiar character being called out, your ex boyfriend in his thick black glasses appearing on the big screen while acting tough to the lens.

Oh, how you used to love those glasses.

But you did notice another person making a small presence in the corner, causing you to pause for a moment. You were sure you'd seen this individual walking pass you down the row to his located seat.

Turning your head to see where this stranger was, your eyes instantly locked with the one person you hoped you wouldn't be near. How had you not have known he was literally sitting behind you- well, three people diagonal from you but same thing.

He was still behind you.

What made things worse was the fact his sister was right by his side, sending you a warm smile as you quickly turned your head forward, not daring to move an inch the entire show it if meant you didn't have to face his gaze again.

Continuing your attention on the stage, you didn't notice the set of eyes burning your side. In fact, that spilt second you did notice him, you didn't take account of the way his expression softened in heartfelt- eventually breaking once the swift turn of your discomfort became apparent.

It seemed you truly were disgusted by him.

But once the act was over, you felt Jessica lean over to you. "Definitely rooting for you," she lightly squealed. "If the nerves get to you, hold my hand."

You send her a questionable look. "For what?"

"Your nomination, silly," she giggled as your eyes widened. That was happening now? The memo you were given weeks ago said opposite. "Best Supporting Actress is up next!"

"But I was told it wouldn't be announced till the second hour."

She sends you a uncertain shrug, not sure what to say. There must have been a last minute change to the line up- which was totally fine, but you were not prepared for your nerves to hit.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you rub your hands together as you see the production team walking near the stage for the upcoming selection. You couldn't at least get a commercial break?

As the lights started dimming and the crowed cheered, you could see the two presenters make their way to the middle of the stage before the clips of films played.

Cringing, you jump and quickly close your eyes as you saw yourself on the gigantic screen. It's very weird watching yourself act out a character, which is why you avoid it at all costs.

Especially the crying scenes- you always thought of Kim Kardashian's crying meme whenever your tears were on the screen.

Your ex would say otherwise, constantly praising you every chance he had when you would appear on a film, claiming you had such a passionate aura when you expressed yourself. Often following with his additional, "it's what made me fall in love with you."

Swaying your neck, you try to clear your mind. Fuck your thoughts for daring to think about him in such a crucial moment.

Wishing for time to fly by quicker, you completely zone out as the wait seemed longer than usual. It also didn't help that the camera was zoomed up to your face trying to capture your reaction to this nerve wracking milestone.

You let out a sigh of relief as another actress, Jamie Lee Curtis, was awarded- thrilled that you didn't have to go up and make a dreadful speech that surely wouldn't be planned.

"Why do you seem thankful?"

Turning to Jessica, you send her a chuckle. "I probably would've fallen down the stairs if I did win," you declare as she rolls her eyes. "Plus, the other nominees had more of a lively feel with their roles than me- they deserved it more."

The rest of the show did seem to fly by smoothly. There was the segment where your ex did have to present an award in which you were forced to pull a contented face in case any random camera caught you.

He seemed nervous, but he did do well considering the room was filled with remarkable individuals- it was very intimidating to say the least.

But you weren't ever going to tell him that.

Standing up and patting your dress down, you quickly excuse yourself in search for your assistant during the intermission. You really needed to touch up your makeup and she was the only who had your powder in her bag.

Walking near the side of the stage, you slip through a door and make it to the backstage area where most celebrities' teams were scattered around, trying to be useful and take hundreds of pictures.

"There you are," you smile as you catch a glimpse of her bright red hair from the corner of your eye near a wall. "I really nee- uhm"

You halt as you were met with the same presence of the man who battered your heart and left it to rot months ago. The one who caused the constant breakdowns in your car after every Starbucks run from the frequent trips you two used to share.

The one who left you stranded for his ex.

"Oh, hey!" your assistant beamed while you just gave her an agitated expression, trying your best to stay calm and collected before you became the opposite. "You're not supposed to be here- the show is still go-"

"I need my powder," you grit your teeth, causing her to suck in her lips by your noticeable anger.

Quickly reaching to her bag and unzipping it, you tried ignoring the amused expression your ex was portraying as he leaned up against the wall in hope you would spare him a glance.

You didn't.

Placing the product in your hand, she shakily reaches out to you. "Here, I can take it once you're done w-"

"I'll hold on to it," you dryly cut her off, swiftly turning your back to them before speed walking towards the door you came in from. All you wanted to do now was sit through the remainder of the awards and sleep on the car ride home.

But of course things never went your way.

Hearing loud footsteps of shoes, you feel a gush of wind hit you as a person barged their way in front of you, causing you to stop your movements. "You didn't have to be so harsh on her, you know?"

Holding back your laughter, you mock him. "Harsh? What's so harsh about doing your job?"

He releases a wary look, knowing you would never act like this unless something was bothering you.

Sadly, he knew he was that something- or somebody.

"I was the one who went up to her," he explains, trying to defend her from your future wrath. "She was only kind enough to stay-."

"I don't care what my workers do when I am not around," you cut him off, glaring at him. "Nor you."

With that, you make your exit before he could further justify himself. In reality, you were upset she was talking to him, but you knew he must've started the conversation and could understand why she stayed.

But what really hurt was the fact you knew deep down she believed you were in the wrong as to why you resented him. Maybe the sight of the two of them triggered your feelings, but for a person who's never sat down and heard both stories she was not one to have any say as to how you should feel.

Sitting down on your seat, Jessica sends you a worried look by how fast you strutted back as if you were running away from something- your past. Returning a reassuring one, you steer clear from the body walking through the aisle as they eyed you down, ultimately brushing your backside as they shuffled to their located seat.

Goosebumps arose all over from the split-second contact. For such short contact, it was sure as hell strong as his warmth hit you.

Straightening your posture, you exhale lowly, trying to compose yourself. You don't want anyone thinking you seemed triggered or anxious because you weren't. And you were going to prove it, making it your best interest to stop thinking about all the unnecessary issues in your life and let loose a bit.

And that's exactly what you did.

"I think I broke my toe," you whine, hopping on your right leg as one hand held onto your left ankle. "How am I going to dance now?"

"That's enough shots for you," you heard Florence exclaim, quickly taking the small cup away from your right hand as you huff, trying to fight back.

It was no use, once determined you knew there was no stopping her from doing her thing.

"Give her a bottle of water and she'll come back to life," you heard Shailene suggest as you tried your best to stay balanced.

After the award show you swear you were going to go straight home until a certain somebody caused you to flip your plans around and party.

That somebody being Andrew Garfield.

"Why end all the fun so early?" you hum, finally feeling your feet numb from the pain and standing better. "The party is just starting!"

Swaying your arms crazily as your hips were rocking in all directions, Shailene's laughter fills your ears as you miss Florence's disturbed stare.

Your dancing was not a pretty sight to see.

"It started almost three hours ago!" Shailene called out over the blaring music that was playing on the dance floor. You were sure it was some EDM song until you took a notice of the familiar lyrics.

Instantly freezing, your friends stop in worry as your body movements halt. Slowly pointing your finger up in the air, you gasp. "Is this Ciara?!"

Feeling a body collide with yours, an arm immediately wrapped around your shoulder. "Oh god! I couldn't find the bathroom, they have like 20 rooms here" Andrew complained, out of breath. "I almost pissed myself!"

Florence walked in front of you two, taking his cup away from him as well. "And no more drinking for you, too. Sir."

Weeping and pulling a despairing pout, his shoulders fall. "Aw c'mon, I wasn't even dri- holy shit, is this Ciara?"

Excitedly jumping up and down, you rapidly nod as he cheers along, both of you fan girling to the iconic song choice. Your other friends just stared, not quite sure what your next actions would be.

Pulling away from you and gently pushing people to the side, Andrew began forming a circle as you giggled in your hand by how energetic he was becoming.

The large opening caught the attention of the other attendees who began walking over to see what all the commotion was.

"You're causing so much-"

"Shush! I'm about to do my 1, 2 step!" Andrew placed a hand to Florence's face, ignoring her parenting skills before swinging his body smoothly to the middle of the circle.

'I shake it like Jello, make the boys say hello 'cause they know I'm rockin' the beat'

Cringing hard, your two sober friends began covering their faces as Andrew allowed the dance floor to acknowledge his presence.

Soon enough, the crowd got bigger as guests began vibing to the rhythm, eventually making the space and air around you hotter.

'I know you heard about a lot of great MC's but they aint got nothing one me'

Constantly tripping over your heels, which you knew would reveal fucked up feet tomorrow, you find Florence and leap to her side, watching as her once stern expression was slowly forming into a grin.

She could never stay annoyed for too long, her lively personality forbid it.

"Because I'm 5 foot 2, I wanna dance with you and I'm sophisticated fun!" you hear someone beside you scream as you followed along, wrapping your loose arms around hers as the two of you begin twirling through the crowd.

Behind your drunken state, you just knew your sober-self tomorrow was going to be praying no one records your embarrassing moves.

The song seems to end faster than what you had anticipated, going from the funky beat to a familiar pop one which made you happier.

Shrieking in joy, Andrew jumped back to Florence and you once realization filled his ears. "I'm about to fucking go insane right now! This son-" stopping, he turned his head to find someone swaying right beside him before leaning towards their ear. "This is your song!"

Bursting out in laughter, you see the devoted artist agree to the obvious note he had made.

"Sorry about him," you intervene, your words coming out in slurs. "He's a dedicated Swiftie...as well as me," you squeak and watch as she waves her hand in appreciation.

God, if only you could see how badly you were humiliating yourself in front of the legendary Taylor Swift.

Not being able to begin your upcoming requests on scoring some of her sold-out concert tickets, you were dragged back onto the dance floor by your very hyper dance partner.

'I knew you were trouble when you walked in, so shame on me now'

Walking closer to get a better look at you two, Shailene's eyes widened as the song continued. "He better not-"

"Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground!" Andrew sung, falling on his knees with his head back. Following after him, you sink to the ground in despair as others continued screaming the lyrics over and over again.

Everybody's a Swifite.

Getting back up by the help of Shailene, you begin to serenade her as Taylor's famous lyrics start catching up. Expressing a face of sorrow and grief, you dramatically chant.

'And the saddest fear...'

But with the crowd of people pushing their way through, your vision ends up falling upon another person- one you were sure you would've avoided if you weren't as plastered as you were now.

'Comes creeping in...'

A sudden harsh push has you involuntarily making your way to your target, you accidentally pushing their shoulders back as they halt their movements, surprised you were even giving them any bit of regard in public until they realized what had happened.

Oh god, how can you be in this situation with a sad Taylor song playing. How ironic.

Noticing the sufferable look of discomfort forming upon your features by his proximity, he tries taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you from the rough crowd but you rejected his hands.

'That you never loved me or her'

Giving him one tough push of his chest, which was incredibly hard by how weak the night has made you, his face filled with hurt at the sight of your developing teary eyes.

You couldn't help it, all the memories of your relationship began flooding your mind. The laughs, the love, the arguments- and in this moment you weren't stable enough to contain your true feelings towards him.

Trying to reach back out for you, your ex steps forward but someone else begins to distract you.

"Or anyone, or anything, YEAHH!" Andrew hollers, viscously shaking your shoulders with his eyes closed before opening them, his beaming grin falling instantly. "Did I make you cry?!"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head and look down as you feel tears slowly begin pouring out. "Hide me before Taylor sees me, I don't want to look ugly in front of her." you joke, trying to stop his flourishing worries but it didn't.

Instead, it made him even more concerned by how unfazed you were after releasing your waterworks out of nowhere.

Nodding, he holds your hand and begins to lead you away from the crowd but another grip was holding you back. Looking at your other hand, you move your gaze to discover your ex was the one who ceased your steps, sending you an alarmed stare in return.

Trying to free yourself, you shake your hand vigorously as he leaned into you. "You can't just breakdown in front of me and expect me to leave you alone!"

Scoffing, you move your face away from his crazed one. "I'm drunk, ignore me."

"A drunk mind speaks the hidden truth."

Pausing your movements, you stare him down as he doesn't back away but only frowns by your rude attitude. He wasn't going to let this nonstop quarrel continue anymore, especially when you obviously weren't fine if you just fell apart over a silly Taylor Swift song.

In his eyes, you clearly weren't fine with him. He wanted to fix that.

Inhaling sharply, you forcefully pull your hand away as he winces by the sudden release. Trying to find a clever comeback in order to take a win on this minor bickering, you allow your drunken-self to take the lead. "I prefer Spider-man, anyway."

What the fuck? You pull a disgusted face, slapping your forehead once your back was facing Pedro to hide your embarrassment. How was that fucking clever? Spider-man- really?

Turning to Andrew, you tug his hand and swiftly make your way through the bodies of the crowd as your two other friends followed behind, definitely witnessing your intense argument with your ex- which you were sure people finally uncovered.

Strolling through the back door, a cold breeze hits your body causing you to shiver and clutch your arms together tighter in hopes of forming some warmth.

"Your car should arrive in a few minutes, Ma'am," you hear the valet attendant claim, awkwardly standing still as your makeup was smudged near the corners of your eyes.

You thank him as your friends quietly gawk you, curious to figure out what was going on but not wanting to trigger you more.

"Will you three stop staring at me like that and ask already?" you groan as they jump in alarm. "I know you're all very confused."

Slowly taking a step forward, Florence placed a soft hand on your arm for comfort. "We don't want to intrude. It's your business."

"I believe I welcomed the party in my business ten minutes ago," you sarcastically smile. "So, it's fine."

Sighing, Shailene was the first to speak up as Andrew gave you a sympathetic face, trying to be respectful. "You and Pedro dated?"

Shrugging, you nipped on your bottom lip to prevent the fear of tears from flowing again. "I guess?" you lightly chuckle, trying to lighten your mood a bit. "3 years must have meant something, right?"

Pulling you in for a hug after capturing your weak voice crack, Andrew cradled you in his arms as Florence and Shailene tried rubbing your back.

Being emotional wasn't really your thing, so being consoled was very strange yet nice.

It made you feel wanted, sadly.

All thoughts through your mind disappeared once a deafening bang was heard from the building, the four of you pulling away from the hug instantly and averting your focus to where the sound directly came from- the back door.

With harsh steps, you make out Pedro's agitated body language as he rapidly shook his head and pointed at you while your friends froze in shock. "I'm sick of you always running away from me every time we talk. Is that fair? I can't have one normal fucking conversation with you because you scatter the second words leave my mouth."

Feeling your hands tighten up, you hug yourself tighter as he takes your silence as complete bullshit.

Now you wanna be quiet?

"Do you know how hard it was trying to find you? Hearing everyone ask if you were okay because you decided to come up to me and run out crying?" he sternly declared, his face now serious as he inched closer to you, your emotionless expression killing him. "As if that was my fault!"

You knew he wanted you to breakdown, to cry in his arms and beg for forgiveness by making you feel as if this was all your fault. It might be- but you weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

His greed to be right was popular during your arguments, but of course he never saw it that way.

Stepping in front of you, Andrew awkwardly tried blocking Pedro from your view to calm him down. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Andrew began speaking. "Look man, maybe now isn't the right time to be discussing this." Giving a slight nod to the street, he continued. "There's paparazzi nearby, we don't want this getting out."

Faking a laugh, Pedro tilted his head before glancing over Andrew's shoulder to meet your eyes. "I'm sure the paparazzi won't be at fault for that one, right y/n?"

God, you hated how petty he would become when provoked. It was one of the rare traits that made him so unattractive and you hated how you shared it.

Maybe you both are just too toxic for each other if you can't be near one another, after months, without fighting- even if you did start it. It was a clear sign after all.

Glaring, you were about to break and fight back until a familiar SUV pulled up. Internally cheering for the literal perfect moment, you slowly ignore his presence and make your way to the car door as he scoffs.

"So you're just going to leave again, like always," he flares, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull the door open. "You can't be serious."

Groaning loudly, you slam the door shut and march over, facing him head on as his strong expression never falters. Instead, he released his arms to his sides and angrily looked down at you. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

Gasping, Shailene and Florence look at each other in disbelief as Andrew scratched the back of his neck, trying to process where this may be leading to.

Nowhere good, that's for sure.

Before Pedro could speak, you harshly place your hand over his mouth to shut him up. Which he did, but he was certainly not happy by your actions. "Yeah! I'm the one who caused all of this-" you start as you feel your adrenaline going crazy. "-but it's done. Over. Nothing we can do now to change what happened and if you're so worried about it, I'll make a public apology if it means I won't ever have to deal with you again."

Frowning, he snatches your hand away from his face that causes Andrew to wince at the rough contact. "Worried? You think I care about what happened in there?"

You swear you could see sadness fill his eyes as they hid under the blaring anger that was presented. He didn't dare to look at any other direction but your own, scared if he did you would run away again.

But he knew deep down that was coming, soon.

"Why else are you this upset with me-"

"Because you act like we never happened!" he interjects, exclaiming loudly as your mouth shuts. "You-" he begins, running his hand over his hair in frustration, "-you pretend like I don't exist. That we weren't together for all those years and for what? Why do I deserve to be treated like shit in the end? Why am I the only one trying-"

"Trying?!" you shriek, laughing sarcastically as he sighed in response, not taking your tone well. "Really? I don't recall you trying to reach me after you left me-"

"Left you? You changed the locks to the damn house! I couldn't come back in-"

"You still left!" you yell, causing him to flinch by your increase in volume.

Feeling the warmth of someone's hand on your shoulder, you could already tell it was Shailene's by the rings on them. "Maybe we should go. It's getting late and soon people will be coming out..."

Slowly breaking eye-contact with Pedro, you nod and back away. You were done with this conversation and you surely didn't want to even attempt to talk things over when you already knew you both needed help in order to even let things go.

But letting things go didn't mean reconciling.

The sight of you walking away from him terrified him when he knew it may be the last time he was ever going to be face to face with you again for a while. He didn't want to give up, not now when he finally had your attention after months of trying to bump into you.

That's hard when you blocked him on everything and instructed your neighborhood security he was not welcomed to see you weeks after you changed your locks. Of course he could've just waited until you left the gate to trap you, but he wasn't a stalker.

Slamming the door shut after you opened it, Pedro leaned his back against it to halter your movements. Freezing at his quick actions, you try pushing him away but he doesn't budge.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend," he blurts out, breathing heavily as he blocked your hands from grasping the door handle. You immediately pause as he continues to let his thoughts flow freely out of his mouth.

Did he watch that interview? Impossible, he was walking the red carpet. He couldn't have had time to.

"I know you said that to seem happy or I don't know, make me jealous? Fuck, you could've said that to fake it for the cameras but I'm not going to stand here and act like you don't love me."

Choking from his last statement, you immediately try pushing him away from the door to get in, even sending a look over your shoulder, you glare at your friends who sheepishly stand there not helping, too invested to intervene.

Those little nosy bitches.

Finding your wrists, Pedro stops your forceful shoves and lowers your trembling arms. "You still love me."

Not being able to move, you were stuck in his trance. Maybe it was from all the chaos happening and your emotions spiraling out of control, but you felt the sudden urge to give up.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, crying, being mad whenever his name popped up.

You wanted all of this to stop.

Gripping the back of your neck, he leaned in and sent you a hopeless look before pulling your body closer as a way to find comfort and security. "And god, I still fucking love you and you know that."

With that, you were snapped back into reality.

Finding all the power you had left in you, you yanked your body out of his arms and jumped back before he could catch you. Angrily glaring at him, you make sure there's enough distance so he wouldn't latch himself back on you before speaking your mind.

"Don't say that," you spit out, redness filling your face as your fury kept growing. "Don't say 'you know that' when you didn't seem to when you were constantly out with your ex without telling me!"

The dropping jaws behind you went unnoticed as you stared Pedro down, catching the way his face ached with agony the longer you two continued your shared meltdown.

This was getting out of hand and you both knew it.

"Why would I tell you when I knew this is how you'd react?" he snapped back, his hurt now forming into irritation by how ignorant you were being. He knew he did nothing wrong, so why couldn't you believe him? "Nothing happened and you know that."

Pointing a finger at him, you release a snarky smirk as he tried to contain his calm this time. You were getting on his nerves bad. "Hiding secrets with someone you were intimate with for five fucking years is deceiving," you huff, gripping the bottom of your dress. "and you know that."

Before he could fight for his defense, you completely shun him. Speedily avoiding his following presence, you make it to the passenger door of the SUV before he could block in and jump inside.

However, your movements weren't fast enough as he gripped the door hard, not letting you close it. Anxiously sighing, he lowered his head to keep contact with you as you ignored his close proximity, focusing on finding a stern hold on the door so you can shut him out, again.

Leaning in closer, he shakes his head. "We need to talk about t-"

"You didn't want to talk about it last time because you it was your own business remember," you intervened as he closed his eyes in exasperation. "What did you say again? 'This isn't about you. Stay out of it.' I'm out now so you can go."

"I was angry and ups-"

"Andrew!" you call out, causing Pedro to stop talking and confusingly gaze you. "Can you please help? I really want to leave."

Pedro let out a loud scoff, returning his past hurt look as you simply waited for your friend to rescue you. Within seconds, Andrew came by your side and sent Pedro a look of sorrow, not really sure how to make him feel better by his wanted removal.

He didn't need to do much as Pedro backed away himself, shaking his head and sent you one last glance of betrayal. "I'm fucking done," he declared, walking backwards and you prayed your sudden feeling of panic wasn't on full display.

"I'm not going to waste my time anymore when its no use." With that, he made his way back to the building, muttering a swift "have a great life" before aggressively pulling the door open and disappearing inside.

Ignoring the presence of people around, you stared at the windshield in front of you as Andrew stayed by your car door, not wanting to close it just yet.

You didn't want to admit it, but you felt your chest tighten as you began to feel uneasy. Was this it? Did you finally get what you wanted?

Or what you thought you wanted?

Of course you wanted this, now you could move on.

You had even forgotten about Florence and Shailene until the sounds of the back door opening flooded through your ears as they hopped in and made a seat for themselves.

As an intense wave of guilt took over, you immediately turned your back to face them for your explanation until Florence waved her hands to make you stop. "You don't need to explain anything right now, all I want is for you to relax."

Sighing, you slowly nod and turn back towards the front to see Andrew give you a small, condoling smile before gently closing your door, trying not to smash your feet or dress in the process.

Awkwardly gazing to the driver who was cautiously scanning over you making sure you weren't going to puke or breakdown, you send him a sad grin. "I'm sorry...for causing a scene."

He chuckles, shaking his head as you felt your cheeks burn from how embarrassed you were. You must've looked so childish fighting with a grown man over your secret relationship. "Don't worry, as long as I get a big tip you can do whatever you want."

Frowning at his response, your eyes widen as he laughs louder, his body shaking from how funny he thought this miserable situation was. "I'm only joking, I would never let a woman tip after dealing with an unfaithful ex."

Sitting up straighter, you send him a surprised look. "So you think he was cheating, too? Right? I'm not cr-"

"Okay! Let's not continue this conversation anymore," Shailene cuts you off and nods to the driver. "Please drive us to her house."

Your driver sends you a promising wink before starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot to hit the busy streets of the city. You wish you could remember the rest of the car ride, but sleep took over after the car passed the third traffic light.

But as you finally got to forget about the recent incident, little did you know it would haunt you the moment you woke up.

3K notes · View notes

pedritomosquito · 1 year

Text

All Choked Up (Ch 1)

MINORS DNI

Summary: You're shooting a fight scene with Pedro that involves choking--you know where this is going.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

Word count: ~4.1k

Content: SMUT, Minors DNI Blog, thigh riding, choking, handy, general steaminess

You had been called in for more shooting after working for a month on The Last of Us as various clickers. You were going to be doing another fight scene, but this time as your normal human self. Wardrobe had just finished with you and one of the PA’s was escorting you to set to be approved by Craig and Jeremy. It looked like they were in between takes of a scene with Joel and Ellie. Pedro and Bella were both sitting on set pieces, laughing and sipping at water.

Craig and Jeremy are crowded around a monitor with several other producers watching the latest take. The PA introduces you and suddenly all of them turn around, examining you. Craig greets you.

“Great to see you again! Thank you for joining us.”

You have to hold in a laugh, because ‘thank you for joining us’? As if you wouldn’t have thrown yourself into fucking LA traffic to be here?

“Thank you for having me,” you smile instead.

At the sound of your voice, you see Pedro perk up out of the corner of your eye. You pretend not to notice his gaze.

“This looks great,” Craig approves. “Can I see it without the scarf?”

The PA unties your neck gaiter.

“Yes, perfect,” He nods. “Thank you Jennifer,” He dismisses the PA and sends you on your way, “See you on set!”

Interesting costuming detail for Craig to be so particular about, but whatever. The PA starts to usher you back towards the wardrobe department.

You hear Bella call your name and you turn, giving them a happy wave. Pedro gives you a wave too.

“Tomorrow–You, me?”” You playfully point between him and yourself, “we’re squarin’ up!”

“No way!” Pedro replies, looking dare you say excited to hear the news that you’d be working together.

“See you at rehearsal!” You call as you slip out the door.

—--

The next day you have stunt choreography for the fight scene in the evening. You dress in a cute matching Lululemon knock off set and report to the rehearsal studio on the lot. The three stunt coordinators are there to greet you and you stretch out until Pedro arrives.

He’s in a tight workout t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Not the gray sweatpants dear LORD.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” one of the coordinators teases, “And ten minutes late, no less!”

“Fuck off, Phillip,” Pedro laughs as he approached, “I’m old and I’m tired.”

“That’s your excuse every day,” You prod.

“Well it’s true every day,” Pedro complains.

“Ready to beat the shit out of each other?” You smirk.

His laugh makes your stomach flip flop.

“Absolutely.”

The stunt coordinators demonstrate the choreography first and you have to make sure your jaw doesn’t hit the floor.

Your character stands yielding a prop knife and his character rushes at you, grabbing your arms. You struggle like that for a beat before the knife gets knocked out of your hands. He keeps his grip on one of your arms as he punches you across the face, then shoves you back up against the wall. Both of his hands come up to your neck and you fight against him until you pass out and he drops you on the floor.

You have always been on your best behavior around Pedro. The poor guy has women thirsting after him at every turn and you don’t want to add to his suffering. You have your own private thoughts about him–many of them not PG rated. But you are there to do a job, to be a professional. You never really allow yourself to entertain any of those thoughts beyond simple fantasy.

But he is about to choke you against a wall.

That alone has you entertaining several new thoughts.

“Alright, how do you guys feel about that?” Phillip asks.

Pedro just nods with a small “great.” He does this stuff pretty much every day so you’re sure none of it phases him.

Phillip looks to you and you must be a bit too wide eyed.

“You look a little uncomfortable,” Phillip notes kindly, inviting you to speak.

Pedro’s concerned expression knocks the wind out of you.

“No, no,” You assure them, “It just looks amazing and I’m hoping I wasn’t padding my resume when I said I had stage combat experience.” You give a little giggle to sell it and god bless being an actor because they all buy it.

“No worries, you definitely got this,” Phillip assures you.

Phillip had not been lying–you pick up the sequence just fine. When it comes time to run the fight with Pedro, you are feeling confident about the choreography but not much else. You mark through it, slowly going through each motion to practice.

You’re pretty sure you black out when he slides his hands under your chin. He is slow and careful and he barely even makes contact with your throat but just the idea, the notion that he could so easily, makes your insides scream.

He eyes you closely making sure you are okay. You feel safe. Somehow that makes it even worse.

You go through some notes and run it one more time slowly before kicking it up to full speed.

The intensity of doing it in real time causes an adrenaline storm. Pedro’s hands are all over you, all power and tight gripped. You desperately hold it together so you won't forget what you’re doing.

The way your back hits the padded wall forces the air from your lungs. Before you can even get a breath in, Pedro’s inches away from your face, hands around your neck. Heat spreads across your cheeks all the way down to your chest. You are sure the shock is written all over your face and you swear Pedro’s eyebrows furrow just a fraction. You take the moment of embarrassment as a good cue to drop to the floor out of his grip.

“That looked great!” Phillip approves, “How did that feel?”

You nearly choke on your spit at the question.

“Good,” you manage to squeak.

You catch Pedro side eyeing you and force yourself to look anywhere else. You bend over and fiddle with your shoelace out of sheer desperation to hide your face.

“Yeah,” Pedro echoes, “Good.”

You can hear the smile in his voice and want to leap out the window.

“Alright, let’s go full out this time,” Phillip says, “Add the acting, the drama, I want it all. Let’s take it from the line before so we can get the timing down.”

You and Pedro square up, getting into position.

“I’m not going down easy,” You play with a quirked eyebrow.

“Bring it,” He challenges.

You both slip into character and you raise your knife.

—-

“Great work, guys!” Phillip chimes, “See you on set tomorrow.”

“You drive here?” Pedro’s voice appears next to you.

“Yep,” You reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and pushing open the door. The cool night air glides a chill down your arms.

“Let me walk you to your car,” He offers, “ I just need to grab my stuff.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, that’d be—that’d be great,” You stumble over the words with a smile.

It’s a short walk to his trailer

“What’s been your favorite project you’ve worked on?” He asks.

“I always thought it couldn’t get any better than Mandalorian but honestly I think this show might be my new favorite.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, everything on this show feels so… real. Mando was all soundstages and green screens. Last of Us really feels like we’ve been dropped into an apocalypse,” You explain before cautiously adding, “And I’ve gotten to work with you a lot more.”

“You like working with me, huh?” Pedro asks as he playfully bumps his shoulder into yours, the shadow of a teasing tone in his voice.

You can’t find words for a moment, pausing with your mouth parted. You might as well put all your cards on the table. “Yes,” you finally reply with a small laugh, “I do.”

You can safely toe the boundary of friendship here. You figure he wouldn’t read into it if he wasn’t interested.

Wait. Are you interested? Oh fuck. Of course you’re interested.

Pedro pauses for a fraction of a moment as you arrive at the trailer, looking at you. Before you can say anything, he pulls open the door and holds it for you. You climb inside and he brushes past you as he enters.

“When you showed up here on set,” He says, “I was really happy to see you again.” He sits down on the cream colored loveseat.

So he isn’t just ‘grabbing his stuff’ after all, you guess.

You join him, trying to remember how to sit like a normal human being.

“I thought you were lying when you said you remembered me,” you reply honestly.

“God no,” Pedro chuckles. His gaze on you intensifies, flitting down your body for a moment, his voice dropping a bit lower. “Couldn’t forget you if I tried, sweetheart.”

You suck in a quiet breath. Your mind begins to swim in the suddenly thickening air. How has he managed to make himself so clear in just a single uttered sentence?

He seems to search your face. You realize he’s looking for reciprocation . This isn’t the time to toe the limit at all–it’s the time to cross the line entirely.

The line between colleagues is drawn for good reason, you try to remind yourself. But all logic dissolves in the simmering heat of how he watches you from the other end of the couch.

Fuck the line. What line? Never heard of one.

You switch on a new part of yourself, cocking your head.

“You aren’t too forgettable yourself,” You reply with a soft smirk, making sure to regard every inch of him.

That is all it takes from him to start closing the gap between you, stopping just inches away. He reaches out and slides your bag off your shoulder in slow motion. You stay frozen as it thuds to the floor. The way his eyes never leave you makes your breathing pick up.

“You can leave right now, I won’t hold it against you,” He says quietly, “We can go back to before and I will never try this again.”

You can’t imagine a worse fate. You shake your head desperately.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, eyes glued to yours.

“I want you ,” You whisper.

His lips easily find yours as you feel a hand lace into your hair and another around your waist. The softness of his lips makes you forget to set yourself into motion, too busy melting into it. You finally remember to reach for him, placing a hand on his chest and the other on the side of his neck. You splay your fingers over his bare skin, brushing a thumb against the stubble on his jaw.

His fingers graze over your scalp as he gently grips a handful of your hair. It makes your jaw fall open and he takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth. You grab a fistful of his shirt to pull him closer.

His hand travels up the center of your chest, curving over your collarbone and back down your side.

He is either being a tease or far too respectful.

You take his wrist and guide him to the bottom hem of your tank top, sliding his hand underneath until his fingers come to the elastic of your sports bra. You pull the spandex up out of the way.

His fingertips skate lightly over the bare skin before he cups you, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

You whine against his mouth, arching into his touch. Your head tips back and he kisses down your neck before returning to your mouth. His lips become more insistent, the pressure of his hands roaming your body more firm. You shift to pull your leg up under you on the couch, needing to get closer to him. He untangles his hand from your hair and does you one better, reaching down, grabbing your ass and pulling you into his lap until he has you hovering over him, his knee between yours.

You pull off your tank top and your sports bra.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Pedro murmurs breathlessly as he attaches his mouth to your nipple.

“Fuck,” The word punches out of you and your hands fly into his hair. His mouth is all heat, tongue working in circles and flicks. You imagine his face between your legs doing the same and you shudder at the mere thought.

He grabs your hips and speaks against the skin of your chest.

“Sit.”

He pulls you down firmly onto his thigh.

“Good girl.”

A gasp helplessly escapes your lips and he has you all figured out. He fails to suppress a smirk and you have half the mind to admonish him, but any attempt is interrupted by his mouth returning to your tit.

He guides your hips to grind against him. The feeling of your wet leggings sliding over his sweatpants drags against your clit just right. You whimper against his temple. He tugs your hips forward again as he flexes his thigh into you and your whimper becomes open mouthed, a moan buried in his hair.

Your hips start to roll on their own accord, chasing down the friction.

“That’s it,” He says softly, licking up your chest, “Make yourself feel good, pretty girl.”

You let out a stilted sigh, dropping your head and sucking the skin beneath his jaw. You reach your hand down and press over the crotch of his sweats. You inhale sharply when you feel him already hard underneath your palm.

“You know how hard it was to control myself, hm?” He questions, voice strained as he pushes himself up against your hand, “Keeping everyone from seeing how much I loved having you pinned up against that wall?”

“ God , that was good acting,” you moan.

“Yours needs some work,” he taunts, “‘Could see it all over your face, querida. Bet you were wet for me, weren’t you?”

“Whole time,” you nod desperately.

He drags his fingers up your chest and wraps his hand around your throat.

“Oh fuck,” tumbles from your mouth.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? My hand wrapped around your throat like this?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Fuck, keep talking,” you beg, moving faster in his lap.

“You like the sound of my voice, huh?” He prods, “Like it when I tell you how good you are while you fuck yourself on my thigh?”

You only nod with a whine, reaching under his waistband and taking his cock in your hand. You nearly whine again when you feel how thick he is.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hand tightening just a bit around your throat.

The squeak he receives from you in response is equal parts innocent and filthy.

He uses his free hand to shove his pants and boxers down his hips, exposing his cock in your fist.

You pump him slowly, watching the precum leak from his slit. You release him, pausing your own movement to dip your hand into your panties. You slide two fingers into yourself, gathering your wetness, and return to his length.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, his words trapped in the back of his throat as you wrap your slick hand around him. His hand tightens on your neck and he thrusts up into your hand, jolting you back into your own rhythm.

Your free hand is slipped under the neckline of his shirt, placed on his chest to steady yourself. The skin there is firm and radiating heat. You can feel his heart beating as fast as yours against your palm.

“You gonna cum like this?” He asks, “Such a needy girl, making a mess on my thigh?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, god yes,” you babble. You’d say yes to practically anything he could ask of you right now, anything to stay in this moment.

Every word he speaks, every shift in his touch drives your fist around him faster.

“ Fuck you feel so good,” He says through gritted teeth, hand now trailing down your throat, curling his fingers to skim his nails over your delicate skin, “Doing so good for me.”

“Please, please, Pedro–” you blindly plead.

He squeezes his hand, tightening the grip on your neck. It’s hardly enough to affect your breathing, but it fuels the tension growing in your hips all the same. Your motions begin to stutter.

“That’s it, querida,” He hums, “That’s it.”

“I’m gonna–” your stutter, “I’m gonna cum.”

He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and every bit of air deserts your lungs.

“I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

Pure heat sparks and sets you ablaze, flames rolling down your body as you cum, cries forced from you.

“ Good girl , there it is. That’s a good girl,” He grinds out the words, pushing himself harder up into your fist. “Fuck, that’s it, fuck ,” A strangled noise catches in his throat, stripes of white painting your hand and his shirt as you ride out your high.

You lean forward to collapse against him, pressing your head to his shoulder, and you both try to catch your breath. He wraps his arms around you, fingers absently tracing over you back.

“Thank you,” you sigh.

“ Thank you ?” He nearly giggles, “Jesus Christ, all I did was sit here!”

“Then you’re welcome,” you breathe, “Like, very, incredibly, definitely welcome literally any time.”

His laughter bounces against your chest.

“Don’t go making offers that are too good to be true, now,” he warns, and you can feel his grin against the side of your neck, “I can’t take the heartbreak.”

So you’re not the only one who wants this to be more than a one time thing. Fuck yeah.

“Any. Time.” You repeat, whispering in his ear.

——-

Coco is setting up her station next to Stephanie and Jess for the afternoon. The hair and make up department is an integral part of The Last of Us because of the extensive clicker-fication process. Coco always jokes with Pedro that she has the easiest job out of everyone–make a man, who is already gorgeous, gorgeous. Not much to do there, just upkeep on Pedro’s gray hair and ensuring he’s grimy enough for an apocalypse.

You walk into the room bundled in a scarf and find Jess’s chair, greeting her. You had never met before and you were a little nervous. Coco, on the other hand, you’d talked to a few times.

“Okay, so, I might have screwed up a little ,” You admit to Jess, immediately piquing the curiosity of the women around you. You were about to make Jess’s job a bit harder.

“Oh?” Jess says.

“So, um, I get uh–strangled, in the scene we’re shooting today so there’s going to be a lot of focus on… my neck…” You preface hesitantly.

Coco whirls around.

“You didn’t,” She gasps, scandalized.

You grimace apologetically as you unwrap your scarf.

“I did.”

There’s no way they could possibly know that Pedro put the hickey blooming dark purple on your throat unless they’re mind readers, but still. You’re paranoid that somehow everyone will know what you did last night with Pedro.

Could see it all over your face, querida.

“You have girl bossed too close to the sun,” Coco shakes her head while Jess and Stephanie giggle.

You cover your face with your hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jess laughs, “You’re hardly the first actor to need some hickey cover up. Happens all the time–we’ll get you fixed up.”

Jess does an excellent job as promised and your neck looks pristine.

You thank her endlessly and slip out the door to go to wardrobe.

Just a moment later, Pedro speeds into hair and make-up, greeting Coco and plopping down in her chair.

“I need a bruise covered up,” he says simply.

“How’d you hurt yourself this time, old man?” Coco asks.

“Uh, it’s not exactly that kind of bruise,” he replies sheepishly. He pulls down the turtle neck he’s wearing, revealing the hickeys he’s sporting up his neck.

Coco, Stephanie and Jess all exchange a look. Stephanie is desperately trying to suppress a smirk and Jess has to turn away to contain herself.

You and Pedro are none the wiser that you’re totally busted.

“ Pedro ,” Coco scolds him playfully.

“I know, I know,” he sighs.

“Pass me that concealer, Jess?” Coco asks, “We’d better get started. This might take a while since someone decided to sell his body last night.”

“Oh shut up,” Pedro waved her off with a bashful chuckle, “Vete a la chingada.”

“Pedge, I’m immune to your spanish insults. I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Allow me to translate: fuck. off.”

“Never.”

—————-

You're sitting on the sidelines of the set, absently going over your script and blocking.

“Hello you,” a low voice rings next to you.

A smile climbs onto your lips and you keep your attention on the pages.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you chime.

“Come here often?”

You giggle, finally looking up at him, but your breath is stolen. God , he looked so good as Joel.

“Querida, your face,” he chuckles, “we talked about this.”

You pause for a moment and realize what he’s implying. You must be blushing. Or drooling.

“I have no idea how I have an acting career,” you murmur.

He’s laughing and you can’t help but be reminded of a ray of light. He’s like a bright beam, reflected and refracted into a spectrum of color, streaking boldly across a sunlit room. Maybe you didn’t understand how someone could be ‘beaming’ until now.

He looks like he almost starts to reach out to touch you, maybe tuck a stray hair behind your ear or place a hand on your waist, but he aborts the movement.

Phillip approaches you and you break from your trance.

“Hey guys!” He greets, “how about a quick dry run fight before shooting?”

“Sounds good,” Pedro nods as you agree.

Someone from the props department appears with your fake knife and you thank them.

You do a slow motion run through, making sure the spacing and blocking is perfected for the set pieces around you.

The full speed run is just as intense as the first time you had tried it the night before. You’re panting on the floor by the end, and Pedro extends a hand to help you to your feet. You look up at him from underneath the fan of your lashes and he stares down at you all the same.

“Alright you definitely have the choreography down!” Phillip sings his praises and declares you both ready for filming.

“We’re going to start shooting in just a minute here,” Craig informs the room.

Jess is there, coming over to touch up your make up one last time and the guy from props reappears, returning the discarded knife back to you.

“You and Pedro have us sharing the good setting powder,” Jess laughs to herself, taking some onto her brush before Coco steals the container with a smile as she passes by.

It hits you all at once.

You left hickeys all over Pedro last night, didn’t you? You look over and see Coco brushing the powder over the side of his throat.

“ Jess, ” Your eyes are blown wide.

She pauses, regarding you with confusion for a moment until the realization appears on her face.

“Oh! Don’t worry, we’ll never tell. Makeup artists take an oath of secrecy,” She explains. “ However ,” She adds, “I am living vicariously through you. Just full transparency.”

“Fair,” you reply a bit distantly, still watching Pedro.

—-

Coco goes over to Pedro and starts on her final touch ups.

“You know,” she says quietly after a moment, “The weirdest thing happened earlier.”

“Yeah?” Pedro asks, suspicious of her playful tone.

“Yeah,” she replies, “A minute before you came in asking us to cover up your hickeys, your scene partner came in needing the same thing.”

“That is… quite a coincidence…” He agreed slowly.

“I’m glad one of us had sexcapades last night,” she assured him, “all I did was watch tv.”

“Please never say ‘sexcapade’ ever again,” Pedro muttered.

“Look, if you’re going for subtlety–tone it down,” She advises, “You look like you’re about to jump each other’s bones, not kill each other.”

“Fuck, it’s that obvious?” He asks.

She just replies with raised eyebrows and a smirk. “But–hey,” she says sincerely, “Good for you, Pedge. You deserve it.”

“Stop–” He swats her away with an embarrassed smile, “Making me blush. Joel doesn’t blush.”

“Go get ‘em tiger,” She pats him on the back before leaving.

A/N: Tell me what you liked most! I wanna know what my beloved slutty lil readers enjoy!

Chapter 2

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal smut #fanfiction #tlou

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bunnysbrainrot · 8 months

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Bunny's Masterlist

Hi everybody! I think it's about time for a masterlist to make my writings more easily accessible for everyone. Below you can find the links to my works based on the characters!

Supernatural: Dean Winchester: If You Change Your Mind - Ch. 1 If You Change Your Mind - Ch. 2 If You Change Your Mind - Ch. 3 Back Seat Guessing Game (ft. Sam) He Wants To Watch (ft. Sam) Discreet

Sam Winchester: Keep Watching No Vacancy - Day One No Vacancy - Day Two No Vacancy - Day Three Guessing Game (ft. Dean) He Wants To Watch (ft. Dean) Size Matters Research Sinners (Teaser)

Crowley: Your Rightful Place Fitting Room Vices and Virtues

Castiel: Obedience at Its Finest (Lucifer!Cas) Vices and Virtues

The Last of Us: Joel Miller But I'm Better (Series, DBF!Joel) Blood Flow Daddy's Girl The Real Thing Our Little Secret

Too Sweet (Series, Jackson!AU) Bourbon and Mead Unspoken Rules

The Walking Dead: Negan Smith: Easy Access

Other: Pedro Pascal: Sway Coat Check

Thank you for all of your support, as always. It means so much more than you know! If you have a request or simply want to say hi, my inbox is open for you!

Also, check this link to see who I write for, and this link if you'd like to be tagged in future posts! I'm still editing old works and adding names to let users know when their favorite character is posted.

Here's to our lil family, and to more fanfiction!

xoxo

#fanfiction #fic writing #bunny writes #masterlist #spnfandom #tlou #the walking dead #twd #the last of us #pedro pascal #writing #bunnysbrainrot #supernatural fandom #supernatural

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leclsrc · 1 year

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we need need neeed a charles variant of the media naranja fic :( just a multiple lives au even just a drabble or a headcanon auds audrey big a please only u do this shit justice

bec this has been rotting and i needed to practice writing :)

divine sense – cl16

Charles is always led back to you. title from this

“Your mole is nice,” he says, cutting himself off and thinking a bit more on his words. “It sits just there, on the corner of your eye.”

“Really? God.” You poke at it, rub over it even if it sits relatively flat and unassuming and a bit tiny. “I’ve always hated it. People mistake it for leftover eyeliner or mascara all the time, and it’s—whatever.”

“It’s pretty.” His gaze could light you on fire and water it down all at once. “It’s one of the first things I noticed about you. Granted, I thought it was a, uh, how you say? Mascara, yes, that flicked off your eye a bit, but now it’s just there. I like it.”

A slow smile creeps its way onto your lips and you bite it back, to no avail. “Thank you.”

“It’s the reason why you look so familiar to me.” My mole? You ask, your head turning to the side a bit. He nods. “I don’t know why, either. I mean, clearly we didn’t know each other then. But something about you—you’ve always felt familiar, I think.”

“I have?”

The trees are greener in the spring, but they’re thin still, not yet too thick with leaves that will fade into orange and die and fall. It’s perfect, Charles thinks, because then the sun filters perfectly through the green of them and shines through the blinds and onto your face, smiling tenderly and warm and waiting. Your eyelashes cast a shadow across the rest of your face and he could stare forever.

“You have.”

—

“Did you get mascara on your eye?”

“What? Oh. Fuck, no. This—it’s a mole.” You turn quickly to the mirror. “I know, it looks a bit like it, yeah.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s all good. So, Charles, right?” You reread the application sheet and stretch a hand forward to shake his. “My new roommate… taking up Architecture.”

“Yep.” He smiles proudly, the emblem of your university front and centre on his sweatshirt. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but have I met you before? You just look a little familiar. Mole and all.”

“Oh.” Instinctively, you reach up to touch the area on which it sits. “I don’t think so, sorry. Um, but in my Lit class, we did have a discussion about how… like… moles are places where you were kissed in your past life.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” You smile up at him. The fall breeze filters through the open living room window, blowing tendrils of hair over your face that you’re quick to brush away. “Granted, I don’t know who would want to kiss an area like this.”

“You don’t?”

And maybe you’re a bit loopy from the drive, or hungry from waking up early, or maybe not at all. Maybe Charles the college roommate is messing with you, or maybe pulling a prank, or maybe not at all. The sunset today is beginning to tint the room and his pretty face a muted orange and you could stare forever.

“I don’t.”

—

Your first time in Italy is marked by a series of ugly firsts: first catcall, mistranslation, scam, blistered heel. But you make it, despite it all, to your foster family’s farm estate, all old vine-caked buildings and stables and lemon trees. You spot somebody poking their head out of the upstairs window but the mop of hair disappears just as quickly.

The door is answered by Pascale—the one you’d been corresponding with prior to today. With her is her husband, Hervé, and two sons, one of whom is somewhere in the house getting your room tidy, she says apologetically. You’re quick to quell her apology, sated by the ice water and bowl of fruit (Hervé says something about picking them all out himself; Arthur, the younger one, pulls you aside with a boyish smile and says it was actually him.)

“Lorenzo is off at university for summer classes,” Pascale explains when she’s putting the second spoonful of pasta on your plate. “So I am stuck with Arthur here, and Charles. He’s about your age, yes? Twenty-two in October.”

Charles descends into the kitchen talking in rapid Italian to his mom, that only tapers off when he sees you at the table. You smile, dopey, raising a careful hand to wave.

He stares.

“Vieni a sederti,” Pascale says, pointing to the empty seat beside you. Shyly, he takes a seat and fills up his glass with water—then yours.

“Oh,” you say. “Thank you.” Your gaze travels to him, and find he’s already looking—at the corner of your eye.

“It’s a mole,” you clarify with a quiet, pretty laugh. “Are you excited to take me around? Pascale says you’re my tour guide.”

“Sure, sure.” He laughs. “Where do you want to go?”

Hervé has played some Italian music on his vinyl, so it’s what scratchily plays through the dining area, accompanied by the scent of garlic and lemon and olive from the trees outside, blowing a gentle breeze through the archway of the house.

You turn away from his green eyes to answer one of Arthur’s questions, peppering chili flakes over your aglio olio to twirl and deposit into your mouth. One red flake stays on your lip and he imagines swiping it off with his thumb. Your eyes meet his again, gaze amused and gentle and Charles could stare forever.

“Anywhere, really.”

—

“Oh, honey,” you whine playfully, letting your husband crowd you against the counter of your kitchen, peppering kisses all over your face. “Missed me that much?”

“You know I did.” He parts from you, and even if he's taller his gaze seems to convey looking up at you, adoration and love crowding his green eyes. A hand caresses your jaw, cheek; his thumb rubs over the corner of your eye. The blank skin there, unmarked, unblemished.

He kisses it. His favorite spot. “I woke up this morning thinking about you,” he says fondly.

“About how I left you in charge of changing Mila while I slept in?” You tease lowly, forehead pressed to his.

“About how in love I am with you,” he says honestly. Your heart pulses. It was never a whirlwind of love for either of you. It was slow, warm, familiar. Hey, you.

Despite that, he means it, you know he does, he’s never failed to show just how much. When he wakes up early to change Mila, or when he takes charge of the stove when you’re sleepy. When he lets you walk him around the winding avenues of Manhattan to get cookies or a good coffee or a better beer. When he watches you sing karaoke tipsily, Billy Joel or The Smiths. The way he memorizes every part of you, the way he knows you. Any and all of the love Charles ever had and ever felt always answered to you.

Lips meet the corner of your eye again. “You know that? I love you. You changed me. You know that, right?”

You could stay forever, in the dusk of the city, questions suspended in the air to be lovingly answered in the lifetimes to follow. They will come, though. You can stay for now—you’ve done your waiting for a love like this.

You smile. “Right.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc drabble

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afictionaladventure16 · 1 year

Text

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Pedro Pascal x Teen/Daughter!Reader ** PLATONIC **

Best Chilean Soccer Player (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

(1.3 k) Summary: Pedro is your little league soccer coach, you both journey from struggling in something you love into becoming the best. (Fluffy)

El Gatito (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

(2 k) Summary: You bring home a kitten which your dad is against, but eventually he warms up to the cat. (fluffy)

Broken Promises (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

(4.5k) summary: When Pedro breaks a promise, you begin to act out which leads to bad decisions and broken bones. (angsty/lil fluff)

Did You Forget (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

(5.2 K) Summary: Ever since the Reader's mother passed away Pedro hasn't paid much attention to her. It isn't until Pedro finds out about the Readers dark side that he realizes what he has done (angsty/Fluff)

Because of You (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Fem!Reader)

(2.3 K) Summary: Pedro is the reader's only support system after her suicide attempt and protects her from her narcissistic mother after a bad family therapy session. (Angst/Fluff)

SERIES

It's the End of the World (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Fem!Reader)

Summary: You had seen The Last of Us and even played the game, but you never imagined it happening in real life, and neither did Pedro. You both meet in unforeseen circumstances and create a pact to help each other get to each other's destinations, but over time a bond is created. Throughout your travels, Pedro slowly realizes that he can't lose another person in life and makes it his mission to protect you.

Pt. 1 (3.1 K)

Pt. 2 (1.5 K)

Taking It All In (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader) ** COMPLETED **

Pt. I (2k)

Summary: Pedro takes his daughter for a hike in Los Angeles, which leads into an emotional conversation. (angst/fluff)

Pt. II (4.3k)

Summary: Months after the hike, Pedro gets in a fight with his daughter, but this fight leads to something bigger as you reveal something big. (Angst/Fluff)

Pt. III (3.9k)

Summary: It was supposed to be a quick trip to the store, but it quickly turned into more than just a trip, leaving Pedro to realize some things. (Angst/Fluff)

Pt. IV (3.4k)

Summary: Your slowly becoming okay with the idea of your mother coming back into your life and maybe even coming to your quinceanera, but will this be permanent or will she leave again? (Angst/Fluff)

Pt. V (6.1K)

Summary: Things take a turn for the worst when you decide to listen to a voice in your heart and get in the car with your mother.

To Build A Home (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Reader)

Pt. I (2.8k)

Summary: Summary: Your mother decides it is time for you to meet her boyfriend of six months, you are defensive at first, but you think you could get used to the idea of having this one around more often.

Pt. II (3.1k)

Summary: Pedro plans out a day for the two of you to bond, but it doesn't turn out the way Pedro and your mother expected it to.

Pt. III (3k)

Summary: Your past comes back to haunt you. You go home in hopes of finding comfort in your mother but you are met with Pedro who tries his best to be there for you in dark times marking the beginning of a movement within you.

Pedro Pascal x Reader

It's the End of the World as We Know It (Pedro Pascal x Latina!Reader)

Summary: After Covid, everyone thought they were safe, they didn't expect a fungal virus to take over the world and create a zombie apocalypse. Now you were fighting to survive on your own until you met Pedro creating a friendship and bond that would be hard to break.

Ch. 1

#Pedro Pascal masterlist

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transfaulkner · 1 year

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posting more ocs. this is pascal the reason he looks as young as he does in the art is cause of he's a spy and disguises himself with the power of disguise watch. he's really wet and sad and pathetic and probably needs to take a break. her one and biggest dream in the world is to retire to her parents' sheep farm in finland but she knows it's too dangerous because of her enemies. she has a weird gay thing going on with both other support classes on her team (sniper AND medic) which i think is very funny.

#img #meet my ocs #ch: pascal #wf2 #behold my sad wet pathetic spy #she's my beloved

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sillygoose067 · 2 months

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Over the 7 Seas

Ch. 30

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Author's Note: Chapter 30 ALREADY?!?! It feels like yesterday I started writing this series. For those of you who've followed me every step of this journey so far, I thank you immensely.

Also, this chapter is inspired by a request from @iamapersonwholikesunicorns. So thank you for this idea.

You manage to clear up matters with the rest of the Leclerc family and enjoy a fulfilling dinner, warming up to the brothers and Charlotte.

All of a sudden, you hear a cry. The baby must have awoken.

Charlotte’s fork clatters to the plate as she moves to get up.

“No, no, Charlotte, if it’s alright with you, I can go see to her. I’ve already finished my meal anyway”, you rush out. She looks at you with a grateful expression.

“Can you please? I haven’t been able to have a good meal in weeks, she always seems to know when I’ve just sat down.”

You nod and slip your hand out of Charles’s to go find the infant. He gives an apprehensive Enzo a smile of reassurance.

…

As you approach the crying baby, she stops momentarily, not recognizing you as any of the familiar faces of her family. Her eyes are wide and still glazed with unshed tears as you lift her out of the carrier.

“Hi”, you begin talking to her to engage her. “Aren’t you such a beauty? Why were you crying, sweetheart? Will you help me figure it out? Hmm?”

Her lip wobbles as she can’t seem to grasp the situation, and you frantically search your purse for something that would distract her. You find your keys. You jangle them in front of her, and her eyes light up as she reaches for them. Handing them over to distract her for a bit, you lift her and check for any obvious problems that could have been bothering her.

Diaper full? Nope. Hungry? Not yet. In need of a burping? Nope. What could it be? You rack your brain for any other possibilities. Then it hits you. Bringing a hand to her forehead and her back, you realize she’d been sweating in her clothes.

“Oh, you poor baby. Were you feeling warm, sweetheart? Is that what was bothering you? Did Maman dress you up in too many layers?”

You wipe away the tear tracks from her chubby baby cheeks, using the end of your top to collect the unshed tears from the corners of her eyes. You pick her up and she drops your keys, her attention now drawn to your braid. You let her play with your hair as you make your way to the dining room again.

Peeking your head through the door, you knock on the doorframe to bring attention to yourself. “Hey Charlotte, I think she was overheating– her clothes are soaked through. Can I take them off and get her changed into something else?”

She tells you, yes you can, and that the baby bag is under the lamp in the living room.

As you turn to go, you catch yourself. “I never asked; What’s her name?”

“Isabelle.”

You smile and hum to yourself. What a beautiful name.

The Leclerc family’s eyes follow you out of the room, wondering how you’ve managed to handle the situation so well.

Once you’ve left, Charles fills them in on how you’d come to Europe with your friend Marie and her daughter Leila, who had been around the same age as Isabelle when you’d moved to Nice. He also told them about you having a younger sister back in the States.

As he unpacks all this new information, Pascale covers her mouth with a napkin and smiles to herself. You’d make such an amazing mother.

…

Down the hall, you were playing with Isabelle, her giggles permeating throughout the house as you held her up and she bounced, standing on her unsteady legs. She was so cute, you had to stop yourself from holding her close and inhaling the still-there baby powder scent she gave off.

After playing around and babbling and cackling uncontrollably for the past hour, she crawls into your arms and lays her head on your shoulder. You situate her comfortably and hum a lullaby from your childhood to her, rocking back and forth gently while patting her back.

Charles steps into the room and your eyes meet his as you smile and bring a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet. He nods and makes his way over to the sofa, taking a seat silently. He watches with a flutter in his heart as you handle his niece with such care– It makes him jump to visions of a future with you. He’d always been a family man, but none of his past partners seemed to feel the same way. And then you came along and lit up his life.

He rests his cheek on his hand as he watches you lull Isabelle to sleep. Lorenzo and Charlotte enter the room just as you get up to place her back in her carrier.

“Thank you so much Y/n”, whispers Charlotte.

“Of course, I love children and I’m willing to help out anytime you need some.”

Lorenzo comes over and shakes your hand. “It seems I misjudged you greatly. I apologize for treating you so harshly tonight.” He looks over to where Isabelle is resting, love in his gaze. “Isabelle doesn’t take to anyone as easily as she did to you, you know? Not even Charles and Arthur. She seems to be a good judge of character.”

“Yeah, and she gets all of that from me, asshole”, interjects Charlotte.

He kisses her temple affectionately. “Of course she does. She needed to balance out the fact that she has all of her daddy’s charming looks, so she took your personality. Something tells me she’ll be a handful when she’s older…”, retorts playfully, earning him a smack to the chest.

…

After bidding everyone goodbyes, you and Charles make your way over to his car. Once he gets seated, he shuts the door and rests his head on the headrest with a thump and a sigh. He tilts his head your way. “Chéri, have I ever told you how much I love you?”

You grin shyly. “Once or twice.”

“Well, I love you. And that could not have gone better. I’m so proud of you.”

“You think so? I don’t know… I felt like–”

“Love, I’m telling you, you managed to win them all over without bribes and sweet talk, so yes, that could not have gone better. If anything, you’re stuck with me forever now.”

He brings a kiss to your knuckles, leaning over the armrest to place one on your lips softly.

“It’s late”. He checks the time. “Do you want to stay over at my place tonight? I can lend you some clothes”.

You chew your lip, contemplating his offer and weighing your options. You didn’t want to accidentally wake Marie and Leila, but you also didn’t want them to worry about you not turning up.

“Ok, just– Can I text Marie that I’ll be staying over at yours?” His thumb comes up to caress your cheek, which you lean into instinctually. “You never have to ask Chéri.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #fluff #smut #f1 #formula 1

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eddiemunscns · 1 year

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Introducing Catherine “Kitty” Gallagher in Bad Habits

Kitty Gallagher had it all. Talent. Looks. Money. A loving fiancé. But, even she was beginning to go stir-crazy amidst the global Coronavirus pandemic. There were only so many potential hit singles one could write, and only so much wedding planning one could do when it was hard to tell when or if things would ever return to normalcy. So, when her best friend turned agent presents her with the opportunity to make her acting debut in Cliff Beasts 6, it almost seems too good to be true. She realizes soon after that it might very well be too good to be true. The reason? A ghost from her past returned to serve as a thorn in her side yet again: Dieter Bravo.

Taglist: @steveshcrringtons @steve--harrington--gal @starcrossedjedis @acabecca @cas-verse @rey-of-luke @malafvma @fakedatings @sgtbuckyybarnes @samwilsonns @valdrinors @drbobbimorse @asirensrage @richitozier @allaboutocs

#ch: Kit Gallagher #fic: bad habits #ocappreciation #pedro pascal #dieter bravo #the Pedro Pascal fanfic universe ™️

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additiva · 1 month

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Frechheit Ch 15 Snippy

The first little section of Frechheit Chapter 15... under the cut for those who celebrate.

After Miami, there’s two weeks until Baku, which means Max gets a week to relax in Monaco, and he gets Charles. He gets Charles making a mess of his kitchen, showing Max the playlist he thinks he’ll like, wandering around with Jimmy draped around his neck, and of course, sleeping in Max’s bed. At night, and after lunch if he can swing it.

In the mornings he leaves for his workouts, then comes back. Most afternoons, he spends flitting between sponsor commitments: photoshoots, meetings, appearances. Then he comes back.

He speaks regularly on the phone with his manager, in rapid Italian. Max knows what it’s about. He doesn’t ask, and Charles doesn’t offer.

Generally though, he’s more open than ever.

They never run out of things to talk about. Even before, when they were barely friends, it had never been an issue. Now though, it feels like a whole other category of conversation has opened up.

Charles tells him about his family; about his mother: Pascale (a hair-dresser, very kind but worries a lot about Charles). Arthur (older brother whom Max has met, worries a lot about Charles). Lorenzo (oldest brother whom Max hasn’t met, worries a lot about Charles).

Max thinks he’ll probably fit right in, if he ever does meet them.

Charles doesn’t mention his dad, and Max doesn’t bring him up. He’d found out last year about Herve, who’d died when Charles was in F2.

Charles tells him about some of his friends, and about how he’d met Seb. He’d been in his first year of F3, before joining Ferrari, and it hadn’t been an accident. It was at an event in Italy on sustainability in motorsport. He’d gone there specifically to meet Seb, and researched all about the topic beforehand, to impress him when they met.

He’d admired Seb, and thought he might be a good mentor. He’d been right. Seb was even better than he’d expected. He’d taken Charles out for sushi, laughed at him and taught him to use chopsticks, then taken Charles under his wing.

Piece by tiny piece, Max is starting to puzzle out an image of Charles’ life; of the world that Charles lives in beyond Max’s apartment. It’s frustrating, trying to keep things so compartmentalised, but at every moment, the threat of discovery hangs over them. It’s something Max fights to ignore.

He has another appointment with Dr Martin (“You can call me Elizabeth, or Liz, if you’d like.”). They discuss the exercises she’d given him, and she notes his good progress. They talk again, at length. Max tells her about F1, about the good things and the bad things. About his team, and how he’d almost ruined things last year. About the press, and social media. About how he’d been avoiding it completely until recently, because he doesn’t care what people think.

At that, she gives a very neutral hum, and encourages him to continue.

She never takes notes during the session. Just listens.

She doesn’t give him a diagnosis, or anything like that. But she gives him more homework, and he leaves feeling content, like he’s got direction.

When he gets home, Charles is waiting for him with encouraging words and a warm smile.

So, it’s a good week.

Great in some ways, because Charles is obviously feeling more confident in this thing between them. He’s been pushing things further, emotionally. And physically. Which is.. Well. It’s a problem for Max, to be honest.

It’s just going to be embarrassing if he has a heart attack at 29 because Charles is both sexy and unhinged, and has decided to start being both at once.

Charles’ existence alone is pretty much enough to get him going, so they're really getting into dangerous territory now.

Late on Tuesday night, they get restless and go for a long drive; along the coast, out into the countryside around Nice. They stop for a while on a deserted beach outside of Eze, to kick around a football they’d brought with them.

By kick around, he means they each hoard the ball for as long as possible, before the game devolves into the two of them trying to slide-tackle each other into the sand.

Charles tries to tempt him into more right there by the water, but Max is really trying very hard to make rational decisions where possible, so he corrals him back into the car and takes them home instead.

#frechheitfic #lestappen

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pedritomosquito · 1 year

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All Choked Up (Ch 2)

MINORS DNI

Summary: After your post-rehearsal hook-up, how will shoot day with Pedro go?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Content: SMUT, Minors DNI Blog, choking, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected P in V, Daddy kink, enthusiastic consent, Pedro is a consent king, soft dom, praise, degradation

Chapter 1 Here

“Action!”

You dart forward, knife raised as Pedro advances toward you. His large hands grip your forearms and you try to tear your way out of his grasp. He twists your wrist just enough for the knife to fall from your hand. His fist flies toward your face and you throw your head to the side to sell the punch. You allow him to easily push you the two steps back until you feel your back hit the wall.

He’s stepped right up into your space, your bodies nearly pressed together, both of his hands around your throat. You can feel him panting on your cheek, eyes locked on yours. You put all your efforts into struggling against him. You claw at his hands with the pads of your fingers so you don’t scratch him and writhe in his grasp. The feral glint in his eyes is only growing the more you fight and you know it’s Joel, not Pedro, but your mind is absolutely running away with the primal display.

Once you lose consciousness, Pedro lets go and you drop as heavily as you can to the floor. He walks out the door which leads to dead space between set walls, out of view.

“Cut!”

You open your eyes and Pedro reappears above you with his usual soft expression. He helps you back to your feet and can’t seem to stop himself from reaching out and fixing one of your rogue hairs this time.

“Thank you,” You smile and he shoots back a wry one of his own.

“Okay,” Craig says, a bit slowly, like he’s interrupting something, “That was… great, but I need you to act like you hate each other this time.”

Oops. Guess you were having a bit too much fun.

“Let’s reset,” He directs, then looks at you and Pedro and reminds you both, “You want to kill each other.”

You and Pedro are both nodding. Pedro looks a little embarrassed, which you find some glory in.

Jess starts straightening you back out for the next take. She has a shadow of a smirk on her face.

“What?” You question her.

“I didn’t say anything,” Jess maintains her innocence.

“Jess.”

“Y’all just look like you’re having fun out there, that’s all,” She shrugs with a knowing tone.

“Alright, let’s go again!” Craig called.

You shoot another take and after calling cut, Craig waves you and Pedro over to the monitor.

“Come see what we’re seeing,” he says.

They play back the take as you and Pedro watch. The sequence does seem a bit… heated, in more ways than one.

“Pedro, I need you further back from the wall for the choking—and your faces are too close. It’s not creating the right kind of tension,” Craig instructed.

Exactly what kind of tension it is creating goes unmentioned.

“And I need more fear from you,” Craig tells you. “Your character is fierce and brave, but towards the end you’re realizing you’re about to die. I need that terror. Sound good?”

You and Pedro are both nodding like bobble heads, desperate to try again and undo the impression you’ve given everyone. You’re both people pleasers, for better or worse.

The next take finally reads like a murder instead of a porno, but it’s turning you on without fail. You have to do two more takes after that before Craig deems them ready to move on to the next angle.

“Just a minute to set up the next camera angle, please,” Craig says.

You’ve soaked your underwear to the point of discomfort. In a fit of equal parts pettiness and arousal, a downright evil idea springs to life in your mind.

You walk the few steps over to Pedro, casually pulling him through the set’s fake doorway. The space it leads to is hardly bigger than a closet but it’s out of sight of the crew. He looks at you curiously and is about to say something when you stop him, crowding him against the wall.

“You,” You say, hand slipping under your waistband to dip two fingers into yourself, “Made a mess.”

You withdraw your hand and bring it up to his lips.

“Clean it up,” you whisper.

His mouth parts silently and you slide your fingers in. His tongue drags along them, sucking them clean.

As quickly as you’d pulled him aside, you exit back onto the main set, leaving him behind without another word. You make your way over to Jess who starts fixing your hair.

It’s a long moment before you see Pedro emerging from the doorway from the corner of your eye.

“You good, Pedro?” Craig asks with a touch of concern.

Everyone within earshot turns to look at him, including you. His face is a little flushed and his eyes look wild. He schools his expression, even though the blush is continuing to spread down his neck.

“Yep!” He says with an easy grin.

You walk past him to your starting mark, twirling the knife in your hand.

“Someone needs to work on their acting,” You tease quietly with a smug smile, “Can see it all over your face, querido.”

--------

“Alright, that’s a wrap for today,” Craig called, “We have cupcakes here for Tina’s birthday, don’t forget to grab one on your way out!”

Cupcakes? Hell yeah, thank you Tina!

After you change back into your clothes, you find a small group crowded around a table with the birthday treats. You shuffle through and pick up a vanilla cupcake. You see Pedro across the small room and you catch his eye.

You decide you’re not done playing games with him today.

You take your finger and swipe it through the soft, white frosting. You stare at him as you lick at the sweet icing before sliding your entire finger into your mouth.

The intense look in Pedro’s eyes sparks a fire of anticipation as he swiftly makes his way over to you. He stands a little close, seeming to tower over you. You look up at him innocently.

“Need a ride home?” You ask.

“Yes, I do,” he answers through gritted teeth.

You sit in silence as you drive down the dark road. You sneak glances at him, catching his profile in sliding strips of streetlights. You can feel his eyes on you too. He shifts in his seat and you can tell he’s trying to subtly adjust his pants.

You pull into his driveway and throw your car into park.

You look over at him and he simply leans over the center console, pulling your keys out of the ignition.

“Come inside.”

Your breathing is shallow. You just nod and climb out of your car, following him up the front steps.

As soon as the door is closed behind you, he has your back pressed up against it, one hand on your throat, another on your waist, and a knee pressed between your legs.

“Do you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into?” He asks, lips nearly against your cheek, “Do you know what’s going to happen now that you made me want you so fucking bad?”

You shake your head minutely, holding your breath.

“I’m going to make you fall apart with my mouth,” He explains slowly, “And then on my fingers. And then I’m going to fuck you good and deep.”

He’s nodding as he speaks and you mirror him mindlessly, clutching onto his shirt.

“How does that sound, querida?” He asks. You nod more emphatically but he interrupts and says, “Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“S-sounds good,” you manage to whisper.

He lets out a soft laugh and a genuine grin tugs on his lips. His touch lightens. “You really are just a sweet little thing, aren’t you?

“All bark and no bite,” You confess quietly with a sheepish grin.

“You like it when I’m rough with you?” He asks sincerely.

“God yes,” you answer instantly.

He chuckles again, the darkness flowing back into his eyes. His hand from your waist travels down and palms over the crotch of your pants.

“The safe word is cupcake, okay?” He whispers in your ear, a precious secret just for you and him.

“Okay,” you nod, your eyes falling shut.

“Try it,” he directs you softly.

“C-Cupcake,” you repeat it hesitantly.

The weight of his body against yours disappears and his hands withdraw. You open your eyes to see him standing in front of you.

“Good girl,” he praises softly. He then snatches up your wrist and tugs you into him. “Fuck I can’t wait to see you cum again,” he says before his lips lock onto yours.

He’s soon dragging you down a hallway and into his bedroom. You pull off your pants and he does the same. He starts undoing his shirt but you take over, making him sit on the edge of the bed. You straddle him as you undo the buttons.

“Missed being in your lap,” you sigh, hands working down his shirt. He hums in agreement as you push the fabric off his shoulders and his mouth finds yours. His hands find the hem of your top. He pushes it up your stomach. You take hold of it and break the kiss to pull it off. You reach back and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms.

He drags a hand down your chest, too tempted by the expanse of soft skin not to touch it. You roll forward and both of you let out contented noises at the sweet friction. He wraps an arm around your back to pull your bare chest flush against his, feeling his heartbeat against your own.

You rake your fingers through his hair and he grabs your ass, pressing you down tight onto him. You’ve soaked through the thong you’re wearing and you’re already leaving a wet spot on Pedro’s briefs.

He stands up with you still wrapped around him, turns around, and tosses you down onto the bed.

He crawls up beside you, licking over one of your nipples on his way to your lips. His hand travels down between your legs.

“God, are you always this wet?” He asks reverently, rubbing slow circles over underwear.

“Siempre estoy mojada pensando en ti,” You reply. I’m always wet thinking about you.

He groans deep in his throat and you feel him push his hard-on against the side of your hip. “Didn’t know you could speak Spanish, querida,” He says breathlessly.

“Sip,” You nod, squirming under his touch. Yep.

“You’re just full of goddamn surprises, aren’t you?” He teases, rolling his fingers tortuously slow.

“Pedro–please,” You say, trying to circle your hips.

“What?” He asks innocently, “You want me to slip my fingers underneath these and touch your wet pussy, play with it til you cum?”

The vulgar words coming from his sweet mouth sends a rush of heat over you.

“Mhm,” You nod fiercely.

He pulls his hand away instead and a wounded noise leaves your mouth.

“I don’t think I will,” he says defiantly, “I think I need to taste you again.”

“Oh my god, yes,” You murmur. He moves down your body, placing himself between your legs. You watch as his teeth scrape over the skin of your left hip and capture the waistband of your underwear. He hooks a finger under the other side and drags the fabric down. You help him slide it all the way down and off.

A broad hand settles on each of your thighs and he pushes your legs apart. You can feel his breath rolling over your wet cunt before his tongue glides over you, bottom to top, gathering up the taste of you. You gasp and sound rumbles deep in Pedro’s chest, vibrating against you.

He covers all of you with his mouth, overwhelming you with heat. He runs the underside of his tongue over you and he feels so soft, like a ribbon of silk.

His tongue strokes and circles your clit.

Your hands weave into his hair.

“Fuck, yeah,” you breathe.

He begins sucking gently, alternating with flicks of his tongue. The more he works you over, the faster your breathing becomes.

He moves his tongue down, pressing it into your entrance. You grind into his face, your clit pressing to his nose.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re getting me so close,” you pant.

He can feel the way you’re clenching around nothing, trying to grip his tongue.

He pulls away and you whimper.

“All fours. Elbows and knees.”

You comply instantly, rolling onto your stomach and dragging your knees up underneath you. You expect to feel his mouth or cock press against you, but instead you feel the mattress shift. Pedro lays on his back, his head underneath your hips between your legs.

“Oh fuck,” You breathe, taking in his position.

He yanks your hips back and pulls your cunt down to his mouth. He starts by flicking his tongue over your clit, making you jump. His hands grip tighter, keeping you pressed to him. One of his thick fingers begins to circle your hole before dipping inside.

You push back against him, gliding your clit over his tongue and taking his finger deep inside you.

“Oh fuck yes,” You moan. You’ve never done this before, not in this position, and it’s simply divine. You rock back again and are met with a second finger slipping inside you. “Fuck!” You tilt your hips to hit Pedro’s tongue just right.

Pedro turns his head to the side, kissing your thigh.

“That’s it, querida, use my mouth,” he says, “Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

“Holy shit Pedro,” You breathe as he returns his mouth to your clit, “feels s-so good.”

He just groans in agreement. He sucks your clit until you can’t keep still, pushing back into his fingers. He opens his mouth, allowing you to grind on his tongue. Your thrusts devolve from polite to needy.

His fingers begin to press down harder, rubbing over a sensitive spot inside you.

“Fuck, just like that!” You tell him. You start to lose control over the rhythm of your hips. He stays steadfast in his movements, making the pressure inside you grow and twist.

“Oh fuck, Pedro! Faster! You’re gonna make me cum!”

He hums against your clit, sending a vibrating jolt into the depths of your stomach. His fingers start hooking faster.

You feel a new kind of pressure rushing into the base of your hips and realize what is about to happen.

You wonder if you should tell him to stop, if you might die of embarrassment, but it doesn’t matter either way because your orgasm is bursting from you before you can act.

“FUCK—” You cry with a choked off sound, squirting on Pedro’s face.

You’d only ever accomplished this on your own twice and never at all with a partner. Dear god, you’re praying that he’s into this. Your hips jerk away from his mouth at the oversensitivity but he keeps up with his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he praises, “Soak my face.”

His words alone earn him another gasped “fuck” and more wetness on his cheeks. You look underneath yourself and find him with his mouth open, trying to drink in as much as he can get. You drop your head and cry out into the bedding.

When you come back to your senses and unbury your face from the sheets, your thighs are trembling and Pedro is firmly kneading them in his grip with grounding strokes.

You lift up your knee to un-straddle him and clamor down the bed to be beside him. You take his face in your hands and get a good look at how his skin shines with your cum. Before he can speak, you bring your tongue to his jaw, licking away the wetness.

“That’s it,” He says lowly, “My perfect little slut, cleaning up her mess.”

Your eyes become hooded at the new name as you continue to lap at his face. Pedro doesn’t miss it.

“Aw, you like being called a slut, don’t you?” He smirks, “My sweet girl isn’t so innocent after all, huh?”

You groan and start pawing at the waistband of his briefs. He takes your hand in his and guides you to palm over his cock.

“That what you want, querida?” He teases.

You nuzzle your nose into his cheek and nod with a whimper.

“Say it,” He demands.

“I—I want your cock,” You reply.

“And where do you want it?”

“Want it inside me,” You reply, groping him through his underwear, “Want you to cum while you fuck me.”

He sits up and slides off his boxers. He leans over and grabs a condom from the night table, tearing it open. He places it on the tip of his cock.

“You’re going to put this on me with your mouth, okay?” He directs with a condescending tone that makes your brain whir.

You nod, moving so you can place your mouth on him. You wrap a hand around the base of him and start working your lips down his shaft, unrolling the latex. Pedro’s hand winds itself into your hair as he groans.

“Next time, you’re going to fuck me with that beautiful mouth of yours,” he decides in a strained voice, “But right now I have to have your pussy wrapped around me.”

“Mhm,” You agree with your lips wrapped around his dick. With the help of your fingers, you unravel the condom all the way down his thick cock. Pedro gives a tug on your hair, pulling you off of him and guiding you up the bed. He climbs on top of you and lays his body over yours. His left hand strokes over your throat as he speaks in your ear.

“You had fun today, didn’t you? Teasing me at work,” he chides, mouthing at your neck, “You wanted me to know that you’re a dirty little slut, huh? So I’d know to treat you like one?”

You nod with a little whimper escaping.

He rolls his hips and his hard length slides over your clit and back, notching at your hole. You try to push against him but he pins your hips with his own.

“You know what I think you want more than anything?” He teases, “I think you want my hand around your throat while I fuck you.”

“God, Please, Pedro,” You nod, your hips attempting to buck up into his again.

The fingers stroking over your throat stop and his hand spreads across the fragile skin.

His hardened facade falls away for a moment.“Tap twice if you want me to lighten up, three times for cupcake, okay?” He whispers.

“Okay,” you whisper back. “I’ve—I’ve never done this before,” You admit, placing your hand over his.

“I’ll be gentle,” He assures you softly, “And we can stop whenever you want. Does that sound okay?”

“Yes.”

“Two taps for looser, three taps for stop,” he reminds you. “Show me.”

You tap twice on his wrist and he nods in approval, then you tap three times.

“Good girl,” he tells you quietly and your muscles tense up with a shiver. He captures your lips in a kiss, rolling his hips over yours. One of your hands moves to his hip and the other trails into his hair.

The head of his cock keeps grinding over your clit as he moves. You try to pull on his hip to get more friction but he stops.

“So needy,” he says, “be patient.”

You whine in protest, squirming under him.

“Please,” you beg.

“Please what?” Pedro asks, pressing a little on your throat.

“Ohmygod, I need you inside me,” You reply, “Please!”

“Okay querida, I’ll give you what you need,” he allows. He reaches down and guides the tip into your hole. He pushes forward slowly, giving you the first couple of inches.

The way Pedro gasps and moans into your ear makes you dizzy. He’s barely even a third of the way in and you already feel stretched. You grip onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin like teeth. He pushes in farther and you try to keep still and take it.

“Relax,” Pedro says quietly, the hand on your throat sliding off and resting on your collarbone, “Breathe.”

You open your eyes and exhale.

“That’s it,” he says, waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m going to give you more, okay?”

You nod and he places kisses over your cheeks as he pushes forward. Your hands regrip, pawing at his shoulders absently, looking for something to ground you. He’s a lightning rod in your storm of adrenaline.

“I’ve got you,” he says, “You can take it, querida. Doing so good for me.”

His praise loosens the aching stretch inside you. He eases in the rest of the way until you can feel the base of his stomach pressed to your clit.

“Good girl,” His head drops to your shoulder as he groans.

“S-So full, fuck,” you gasp.

“You like being full of me, sweetheart?” His voice strains.

You nod, reaching down to grab his ass cheek, keeping him close to you as you grind up against him.

His breath hitches and you catch what nearly sounds like a whine. He pulls back and pushes into you experimentally, fed by your delicate sounds and breathing.

“Goddamn, you feel so good,” he sighs heavily as he thrusts again, “Taking me so well.”

“Wanna be good for you,” You replies desperately.

“Oh yeah?” He asks menacingly.

You feel his hand slipping back up to your throat.

You nod.

“After being such a bad little slut all day,” He says, “Now you wanna be good for me?”

“Yes,” you squeak as he picks up a slow rhythm to his thrusts.

“Okay sweet girl,” He replies, leaning down to feed you scorching, messy kisses as he fucks you. You wrap your legs around him, forcing his hips closer to yours. You move a hand to the one he has on your throat and grip onto his wrist, pushing it.

He breaks his mouth from yours, easily clued in on what you want.

“If I knew all I had to do to get you under me was put my hands on this pretty little neck, I woulda done it ages ago,” He says, “You look so pretty with your bullseye necklace.”

You imagine his view, the bullseye tattoo between his thumb and first finger framed perfectly in the center of your throat. The thought makes you moan. Your grip on his wrist becomes more insistent.

“Okay,” he acquiesces to your silent plea. “Gonna start real gentle, okay?” He says softly, looking at you for permission.

You marvel at the way he drops in and out of his dominant character, rough all over yet smooth around the edges. Knowing that you get both sides of him—all of him—is intoxicating.

You give a small nod and he slows the rhythm of his thrusts, focusing in on his grip.

It’s not exactly the sensation you expected when he begins to squeeze his hand. He’s pressing in on both sides of your throat and pulses the amount of pressure he applies. It amplifies the feeling of his cock sliding inside you and you catch just the echoes of a misty, heady feeling. You want more.

He lets go and you moan at the loss.

“That feel good?” He asks. It’s dirty talk as much as it is an honest question.

“Yes,” You reply instantly, feeling the desperation setting in, “Yes.” Your hand returns to his wrist, already pleading for more.

“Easy, querida,” He hushes, “I’m taking my time with you.” He gives you a particularly slow, deep thrust.

“Oh god, love when you give it to me deep,” You admit breathlessly.

His hand leaves your throat and hooks your thigh, pulling your knee up higher to give him more access.

“You take it so well, sweetheart,” He praises, rewarding you with more.

He reaches new depths in this position, fucking you in places you swear were previously untouched. You cry out and your hands scrabble for purchase in his hair to his back to his shoulders.

“Fuck, please, please!” You beg.

“Tell me what you want,” he says.

You just whine in response, grabbing at his wrist.

“Tell me,” he commands.

“Choke me!” You finally manage to blurt out, “Please, I want you to choke me!”

“There you go,” He smirks.

“H-Harder, please,” you quietly add.

“So good, telling me what you need,” he replies, somewhere between sweet and wicked, “I’ve got you.”

His hand travels to your throat and he skims his fingertips over your skin before finding his grip, starting to press. As promised, it’s tighter than before.

It’s perfect.

The mist begins to blur everything but the feeling of Pedro fucking you, the sensation crystal clear and torrid. You would scream if you could. Instead, the pleasure stays locked inside you, building and swirling.

You distantly hear Pedro moan and it makes your cunt flush with a new wave of wetness.

He lets go of you and air rushes into your lungs.

“Yes, Pedro!” You exhale.

“Can tell you love it,” He replies with a strained voice, “Getting me all wet while your pussy grips me so fucking tight.”

Your inhibitions fall away with the way he reads your body like a book. There’s no hiding from him.

“Fuck me,” You plead.

He’s happy to obey, picking up speed. It’s hard and fast, slamming your hips with a tightening, growing heat. You know that you’re whimpering out little yes’s and fuck’s but it’s dulled against the lightness in your head.

“Already close again, querida?” That smirk returning to his lips, “You going to come on my cock?”

You let out a choked sob and can only nod in reply.

“Give it to me,” he says, fucking you impossibly harder.

The heat filling you to the brim climbs higher than you can stand.

“Da-Pedro!

Pedro immediately slows to a near stop and his eyes bore into yours. Your hand flies to your mouth.

“Oh,” He says dangerously low, amusement pulling at his lips and dancing in his eyes, “Now what do we have here?”

“Sorry,” You barely whisper. Humiliation rushes to your cheeks. He rolls his hips hard and presses even deeper into you, making a messy whimper tumble from you.

“No, you’re not sorry,” he replies steadily, withdrawing back, “Go ahead. Say it.”

His grip on your throat tightens as he buries his cock inside you.

“Daddy!”

“That’s my girl,” He nearly laughs, beginning to fuck you in a steady rhythm again, “Shoulda known. Such a good little slut, course you wanted Daddy to fuck you, didn’t you?”

You nod frantically.

“Deep breath, querida.”

You inhale and feel his hand squeeze tighter. Blood rushes in your ears and you watch him watch you. Four thrusts more and he releases you, leaving you gasping.

“There you go,” he says, “You love that, don’t you?”

“Yes Daddy,” You reply reflexively.

His hips stutter as he groans.

“Jesus Christ,” He breathes.

He suddenly hooks his arms under yours, pulling you up to sit chest to chest. He wraps one arm around your back to keep you up and his free hand is at your throat again.

“Oh fuck!” You helplessly cry as he fucks up into you, “Daddy!”

He tightens his grip on your throat and everything but Pedro leaves your head. There’s nothing but him, inside you, all around you.

“Make a mess in my lap, baby,” He demands, nosing against your jaw, “Come for me.”

He releases his grip and everything floods through you, burning hot and bursting. You come with your mouth falling open, unable to say a word.

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” he encourages as he fucks you through it, “Give it to me.”

Your soundless scream finally turns into a flurry of gasping sobs as you tremble in his lap, cumming hard.

“Good girl. Fuck, that’s my good girl.”

You’re drawn into the mist that hums quietly in your head. You feel Pedro’s hips slow underneath you and hear him swearing as he unloads into the condom inside you.

Every inch of your body is ringing with dizziness and sunlight and Pedro. You float in the blissful glow.

You’re drifting back down like a leaf falling from a gentle breeze when you realize there are soft sheets and a pillow underneath you. Your face is tucked into Pedro’s neck as he holds you, his quiet voice in your ear.

“You did so good, sweetheart. I’m right here, I got you. Such a good girl,” he murmurs.

You pick your head up a bit to look at him.

“There you are,” he says with a small smile, a hand brushing over your cheek, “Are you okay?”

“Um, yes,” you reply with an incredulous look. Duh. Thought I made that pretty clear when my soul left my goddamn body.

“Alright,” he laughed gently, “No need for the sass. I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?”

You nod and reluctantly let him go.

He was wearing a condom so you wonder how much mess there could possibly be, but when you pull back the sheets, you realize that your own cum has coated your thighs. Jesus.

Pedro returns with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your skin clean. You watch his careful ministrations for a moment, hesitating to ask him the question on your mind.

“Was that…” You try to piece together the words, “For you, I mean—was that…”

“Mind blowing?” He offers.

“I was going to say extraordinary,” You giggle.

“Earth shattering.”

“Astonishing.”

“Divided life into two eras—before that fuck, and after.”

That assessment finally breaks you with a laugh.

“Yes, it was incredible, querida,” he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before retreating to the bathroom to get rid of the washcloth.

You sit up a little as you watch him go, knowing that you have a dumb smile on your face. You glance over at your clothes on the floor.

Shit, are you supposed to leave now? This is technically a hook up, so maybe you’re expected to get dressed and go, or slip out in the morning undetected.

What happened these past couple of days didn’t feel like a hookup. That wasn’t Pedro’s intention here, right? He was so intimate and sweet and sincere and…

God, what if you’re being ridiculously naive? What if he does this with every extra he can get his hands on? What if Jess puts concealer on his scene partner’s hickeys every week?

“Hey.”

Pedro’s gentle voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He’s approaching the bed, his gaze following yours to the outfit laying on the hardwood.

He sits down on the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go,” he admits quietly, “And I don’t want you to disappear on me in the morning.”

You just blink at him. How does he know you like this? You think back through your memories with him and try to put your finger on when he had managed to learn you like this.

“You can, if you wa—“ He quickly begins to correct himself.

You interrupt the doubt wavering on his tongue with your lips, kissing him short and fierce.

“You really think I’d want to disappear on you after life-dividing sex?” You smirk.

He smiles, kissing you till you lay back down, and follows after you. He settles alongside you, pushing aside the comforter and opting to pull the blanket from the bottom of the bed over you both. You wonder why until you realize the comforter is soaked with wet spots.

“I’m sorry about the, um… the mess,” You say, a bit of embarrassment painting your cheeks, “that’s never happened before.”

Pedro groans a little.

“Querida, you’re going to get me hard again,” he complains out the feeble warning with a little laugh. “I’m really the first person to make you do that?”

“Yes,” you reply as he wraps his arms around you. You place an arm and a leg over him, resting your head on his chest.

“I don’t think you understand how fucking hot it was,” he says, “I couldn’t care less about clean up. Now I know to put a towel down next time.”

Next time.

Your stomach does silly little butterfly flips.

“You were really good at… um… you know…”

You can feel Pedro beginning to laugh again.

“You are so sweet,” he says, “a minute ago you were begging for me to choke you, now you can’t even say it?”

“Okay, that was kinky me!” You explain, “She’s a whole different person. I don’t know her!”

“Oh I see,” He says in mock realization.

“But really, you were really good at it,” You continue, “You must have done that before.”

“Nope.”

“No way,” You reply incredulously, craning your neck to look up at him, “How did you know how to do it like that?!”

“I did some googling when I got home last night,” He says simply.

“You googled how to choke me?” You hold in your giggle.

“And phoned a friend,” he adds.

Now that piques your interest. You pick your head up to look at him fully.

“You phoned a friend?”

“It’s Hollywood, everyone is kinky!” He defends with a wry smile. “It was just a good friend of mine.”

Your mouth drops open as a name pops into your head.

“Oh my god, it was Oscar Isaac, wasn’t it?” You gasp quietly.

Pedro bites his cheek and fights a smile.

“You called Oscar Isaac and asked him how to choke me?!” You prodded.

Pedro can’t help a proud smirk and gives a nod.

“I mean, the bar is exceptionally low, but that’s one of the nicest things a man has ever done for me!”

“I think doing a little research to make sure you don’t hurt your partner is pretty bare minimum,” he scoffs.

“The bar,” you remind him, demonstrating with a flat hand in front of you, “Exceptionally low.”

“I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself,” he says as you place your head back down.

“Enjoyed is a bit of an understatement,” you reply quietly.

You nuzzle in as he adjusts the blanket back over your shoulder.

You reach your hand up blindly and find the side of his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He turns his head, pressing his cheek into your palm.

“You’re welcome, querida.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #fanfiction #the last of us #Joel miller

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