#pedro pascal request
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Hi 🌸
What about a fic where reader is walking with Pedro and they are at the airport but they get swarmed with paparazzi. Everyone wants to talk with Pedro so the reader falls and the paparazzi start to push her around and he freaks out trying to find her 😩☺️
Breaking Point
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x female reader.
Summary: pedro looses his shit after you get hurt from paparazzi.
Word Count: 2k
Content Warning: paparazzi being assholes, reader gets hurt, slight panic attack, Pedro losing his shit.
Note: I FUCKING LOVE YOU ANON. TRULY. Anyway I’m gunna source Pedro’s rage from that video of him at the airport where he’s frustrated but make it 100 times worse lol. I cant believe people are actually requesting my fics, I love you guys.
It’s no secret that Pedro spends a lot of time in LA when he’s not at home in New York, snaps of him plastered on the internet for the world to see; exposing his location within the day of him arriving. Privacy wasn’t a luxury you could afford, especially after his upcoming fame after his role as Joel Miller in the last of us, paparazzi just seemed to be everywhere you went, no matter if you were ordering a coffee, driving to a family members house or even going to the gym. Pedro was often apologetic about the lack of privacy and how intrusive the paparazzi could be, your life has changed drastically since being with Pedro. It was hard to acclimate to, being followed and having hundreds of photos of your face and personal life plastered on the internet and magazines worldwide. You had put your big girl pants on and learnt to deal with it, Pedro admired your resilience, even though the paparazzi were moderately tame up until today.
Today was one of those instances where you and Pedro were on your way to LA, a frequency that had become a fortnightly occurrence, the airport was nearly empty, a few people floating around, you try not to draw to much attention to yourselves regardless as you pull your luggage behind you, the few people that occupied the airport seemingly recognising Pedro despite the cap and sunglasses in an attempt to hide his face. He never minded the fans approaching him, in fact he loved it, as long as they were polite he would entertain them, what he didn’t need however was for someone to post online that he was in the airport, much against your luck that’s what happened when a particular fan approaches the both of you.
“Oh my god Pedro! Could we get a photo please, I’m such a huge fan!” A young girl asks him, his attempt of a disguise obviously failed, Pedro offers a polite smile, “yeah of course, thank you for your support.” You step to the side while she takes a selfie, not wanting to intrude on her moment, “I can totally take a picture for you if you like?” You offer kindly. The girl smiles and is trembling as she hands you her phone, you snap a picture of them together, Pedro wearing a genuine smile, his tired pose captured in the image on the girls iPhone.
You hand the iPhone back to her and she thanks you both, speed walking back to her friend that had been left by the seating area, showing her phone and seemingly posting it to the internet. Within minutes your phone is buzzing from a text notification, Lux sending you a screenshot of the post on Twitter from the girl, in her excited high she exposed your location to the world; worse off the paparazzi. You try to prepare yourself for the shit storm bound to happen.
“This isn’t good.” You mumble to yourself, a loud sigh leaves your lips that catches Pedro’s attention. “What’s wrong honey?” You simply turn your phone to him, he squints through his sunglasses and exhales loudly. “This is going to turn to shit.” He looks around the airport as you walk toward where you’ll be boarding your plane, about to stick your luggage on the belt carousel when you hear shouting and clamouring heading in your direction, that didn’t take long. Pedro turns your body away from the audience as to give you some privacy from the invasive images being snapped of you. He wished just once that the way he touched you would be kept private, he gentle hand on your back, his lips on your temple, nothing seemed sacred between you and Pedro despised it.
“Pedro, Pedro! Look here!”
“Please here look! Just one picture.”
“Someone move the girl out of the way.”
The paparazzi were screaming over each other, pushing and shoving their way closer to you with every second. Their desperation to get a new picture of Pedro outweighed any morals they had, if they had any at all. You struggle to make out their sentences and demands as they rush you, pushing you a few steps back, separating you from Pedro as they surround him in a half circle as they scream at him, each trying to gain his attention for their news report.
You begin to panic once you’re separated, never having death with paparazzi that act like this before, the noise and clamouring becomes too much to handle, it’s easy to become overstimulated when the screaming overlaps each other and the noise becomes havoc, you try to squeeze between the gaps to get back to Pedro, reaching out to him as you try to get his attention, to no avail. Pedro is polite in the way he’s shielding his eyes from the blinding flash as he calls your name, asking them to move out of the way so he can find you, unable to see you past the swarm of strangers. “Pedro!” You call out, voice breathless and strained as you panic, you’d never been around paparazzi like this before. “Please move out of the way so we can get on with our day.” Pedro pleas.
One man shoved past you harshly, seeing the gap you occupied in order to get the perfect picture of Pedro once he had taken his sunglasses off. You trip backwards at the force of his shoulder barging you, stumbling over your luggage that’s pulled tightly behind your legs and as if in slow motion, it takes a few seconds to register the pain in your head as it smacks into the floor as you fall onto the cold tile.
“Baby! Oh my god look at what you people have done! Move out of my way!” Pedro tries to shove his way past in an effort to get to you, seeing you being brutally shoved to the ground, groaning in pain set a fire inside of him.
You grunt in pain as you cradle your head, the area hot to the touch where it met the cold floor, the throbbing spreads to your ears leaving a ringing noise to squeal through them. “Oh fuck,” you mutter which comes out slurred, your own voice sounds unrecognisable, unable to stop the room as it spins around you, the dizziness sets a nausea in you that climbs from your stomach to your throat.
“What the fuck is wrong with you people, have you got no dignity or respect?” Pedro snaps as he rushes towards you, seeing your face paler than normal and the pained look on your face as it scrunches. He kneels above you, your eyes seeing doubles as he comes into view. “Baby, are you okay?” His hand is cradling your head and one is waving in front of your eyes, you blink slowly, trying to gain a clearer view of your surroundings.
Pedro slowly helps you sit up, leaning against your luggage as the clicks of the camera are still shuddering throughout the ordeal, not caring that they’ve physically hurt you. Pedro’s face is red and a large vein in his neck and forehead begin bulging in his rage. “You fucking cockroaches, you did this to her. You can expect to hear from my lawyer for this stunt. Get that camera the fuck away from me.” Some of the men flinched, never seeing this side of Pedro. It was a first for you too; the indescribable rage he’d shown was a direct result of your injury at the hands of these people. The clicking and flashes of the camera finally stopped, your vertigo stops to a standstill and you’re brought back to your senses. “We’re sorry man, we just wanted some new pictures. I got a family to support you know.” The man who pushed you excused himself, the irritated tone didn’t go unnoticed, Pedro scoffs, “go and get a real fucking job. All you do is harass people it’s pathetic. Now get the fuck away from us before I call the police. You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass for this.”
“I’m sorry man, I can’t afford a lawsuit.” The man stutters as he realises Pedro is dead serious in his threat. Pedro helps you stand and you wobble on your feet, his arms hold you upright as he leads you away from the crowd. “I don’t give a fuck if you can afford it or not you spineless prick.”
“Come on baby, you need to get your head checked out.” The paparazzi that lingered snapped a few more shots of Pedro leading you to the front desk as they’re escorted out by security.
You’re sat down on a small chair, an EMT approaches you, kneeling down so you can see him.
“Hey, how’re you feeling? Heard you had a bit of a fall.” He starts, opening his medical pack as he observes you. “A fall? She was shoved by those heathens.”
“Its okay.” You turn to assure Pedro, but it was totally not fine, he just shakes his head at the way you’re still trying to make this out to be no big deal. “I think I’ll live. I still feel a little dizzy though.” The EMT takes out a torch, you blink harshly a few times as it blinds you, you try to adjust to the bright LED light. “Just follow this light for me. That’s it, now look up.” Your eyes follow the light lazily, seeing Pedro with a concerned expression on his face out of the corner of your eye, made you feel guilty for ruining his whole day.
“Your reaction is a bit sluggish. Just going to check your head now okay? Where does it hurt?” You nod and point to the area at the back of your head slightly to the left and wince as his gloved hands part your hair where the giant egg on your head was. Pedro’s hand sits on your knee, rubbing it to reassure and offer some support to you. The man gently prods the sore spot and you tense, holding your breath, a headache coming on at the sudden contact with the sore spot.
“It’s very possible you’ve got a concussion. I’d advise not getting on a flight until you’ve been cleared. It may take a few days.”
You sigh, “thank you for looking over me.”
“It’s no problem at all, look after yourselves,” the man farewells as he walks away. Your hands are aggressively rubbing your hands over your face in annoyance, you’ve just delayed Pedro’s flight and now you would have to stay home while he flies to LA for his interview.
“I’ll call a cab to get home, you should still go to LA. You can call me tonight once you land.” You offer weakly and Pedro frowns deeper, the stress lines on his face making him age a few years by the whole ordeal. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving you here after that, concussion or not. I’m staying with you honey.”
Before you can protest Pedro hushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I can rebook the flight and reschedule the interview for next week. I need to be here to make sure you’re okay. Don’t ask me to leave without you.”
“Okay.” You accept which helps Pedro relax, his face red from where the stress lines had been a semi permanent fixture on his face. “Let’s get you home baby. Gotta make sure my girl is looked after.”
Pedro calls a cab outside the airport and helps you into the car, the taxi driver loads your luggage for you. “They’re going to point the narrative about you being awful. You know that right?” You look up at him through your lashes, Pedro scoffs, “let them, they can get fucked.”
He tucks your hair behind your ears and slips his fingers in between yours to hold your hand, a sincere look in his eyes, “no one fucks with my girl and gets away with it.”
#pedropascal#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x from reader#pedro pascal rpf#pedro pascal request#pedro pascal comfort#pedro pascal boyfriend
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Omg I saw that ask about dad Pedro, can you imagine having a sick baby and Pedro coming home and baby instantly calms
I'm sorry I am a little shit and I changed it to Joel Miller because that screams Joel Miller, I'm very sorry if you don't like it anon :(
post outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
Warnings: none, just fluff
A/N: my first time with Joel Miller, I never went past episode one of tlou (but i will, i promise) so idk if it was good
Joel grunted in exhaustion when he finally got home after a patrol. He didn't really like going on patrols anymore, not ever since he got you and your beautiful little girl. He never wanted to be a dad again, not after Sarah, not after the outbreak. But when you showed up pregnant, with sad teary eyes, looking so scared at his reaction, he only wrapped his arms around you and held you close.
Nine months later, little Rose had him wrapped around her tiny little finger. He thought he would never feel that kind of love again, but with his beautiful little baby, he was the softest he could be. He held her all the time, he helped you, he was there all the time, not wanting to miss one single thing from her life.
But Joel would always disappear when Rose got sick.
He knew it was kind of a jerk move, but he just couldn't bear to see the suffering in her face, her cries and how he was absolutely useless in taking her pain away.
That was why when her fever sparked, he immediately volunteered for patrol.
He couldn't keep his thoughts away from you and Rose. He knew he shouldn't have left you alone with her, but at the same time you knew how torturous it was for him.
So when he finally got inside and heard Rose's whimpers, his heart shattered. He was hoping his princess would get well once for all, he just hated how babies got sick, there was nothing more unfair to him than that.
You smiled at the sight of Joel, though you were tired from taking care of Rose the whole day, you were happy and relieved to see him. You missed your man so much and your daughter certainly missed her dada too.
You sat closer to him, rocking the baby gently "her fever broke about an hour ago, so someone got a real nice bath and is now smelling like strawberries" you tickled her tummy so softly but she only let out a small cough "I don't know why she's still crying, Joel" you gave him the same scary eyes from when you told him about the pregnancy and his heart clenched at how much he loved the two of you, at that moment he knew he would be able to take down the whole world just to keep you two safe.
Joel extended his arms and gently took Rose, placing her against his chest, seeing her teary eyes. It was too much for his heart, it felt like it was shattering each time she blinked and watched his face, how she sighed and cooed. He rubbed her back and kissed her delicate head.
"Shh Rosie… dada is here princess" he cooed at her, seeing how she had stopped crying and only paid attention to his voice.
Rose closed her sleepy little eyes and sighed tiredly. Her tiny hand gripped around her dada's finger as tight as she could.
As Joel spoke with her, she began drifting off to sleep, feeling so safe in her dada's arms.
You smiled and kissed his lips before resting your head against his shoulder "see? We both missed you"
____
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#pedro pascal#joel miller#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller x you#pedro pascal x y/n#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#joel miller fanfic#pedro pascal request#joel miller request
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Hey
Can you please write a pedro and reader spicy time? The last one you wrote was epic🔥🔥🔥
Thank you soooo much!!! I just got an idea the other night that corresponds to your request. Had too much fun writing this one. I’m really proud!!
Minors DNI
Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex
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Pedro and you have been apart for a few months now. You were literally in the opposite places. He was in Europe filming while you stayed left in L.A, also filming on your own. You never got the chance to see each other as you both had busy schedules. You texted and called every time you could, but with the time difference it was hard.
He was the one to come back first to New York. He started to film a little bit earlier than you so he finished earlier as well. You came back just two days later, around 11pm. When you entered the house, it was pitch black. You assumed he would be sleeping already since it was so late. You tried not to make noise as you walked in with your luggage.
You didn’t even have time to close the door that the lights turned on. Surprised you turned around to see Pedro, at the end of the corridor, only wearing a shirt and briefs. He had messy hair and a tired expression suggesting that he was sleeping until you arrived. A wave of guilt went through your body.
“please tell me I didn’t wake you up” your voice sounded a little nervous.
“no I was just watching TV” you frowned a bit “okay I probably fell asleep” you chuckled. “Come here” he said opening his arms. You put your stuff down, kicked your shoes and went straight into his arms. You hummed.
“I missed you so much” he laid his head on top of yours, holding you tight.
“You have no I idea how much I missed you too” he said as he put one of his hands in your hair. You stayed like that for a few minutes.
“We should probably go to bed now, you’re tired” you said pulling away. Pedro cupped your face with his hands, looking at your features like it was the first time he saw them.
“I’m not tired anymore” he smiled before leaning in to kiss you. It felt like time stopped. His lips were finally on yours. Your heart started to beat faster than before, like it was your first kiss. You suddenly felt hot, already wanting more than just a kiss on the lips.
“good” you said as he pulled away, looking at his lips before staring at his eyes with a smirk. He smiled like he understood immediately how you felt, probably feeling the same. He grabbed your hand, pulling you with him to the living room where he stopped to turn off the tv. He then continued to the bedroom, still holding your hand.
Once you were in the bedroom, you were not letting go of each other, continuously kissing each other until you reached the bed. Your jeans and shirt were long gone on the floor, as well as Pedro’s. You were both in your underwear now. You lightly pushed him so that he would sit on the edge of the bed, carefully spreading his legs so you could stand in between.
“I missed you so so much” you said playing with his hair and caressing his face. His hands were on the back of your thighs.
“What did you miss exactly” he said in a lower voice. You stared at him for a second.
“You- you being close to me”
“Did you miss this?” He said as he squeezed your ass with both of his hands, earning a moan from you.
“Yes, yes I missed this” you let your hands on his shoulders, holding him as he left kisses on your stomach. “I missed your hands on my body” you closed your eyes as the feeling of him touching you was too good. “I missed feeling you”
“Hmm.. keep going”
“I missed having my hands in your hair” you paused, opening your eyes again to look at him. “I missed touching you” He pulled away, looking at you. His hands got lower behind your knees to make you sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling at him.
“Did you miss something else?” He smirked. He unclipped your bra with one hand, slowly taking it off of you, revealing your breasts. His hands immediately cupped them, also pulling you closer so he could kiss them.
“I missed so.. many things” you said between breaths. He was so good to you that just his touch made you skip breaths. “I missed the way you make me feel” his lips and tongue were working perfectly against your nipples, sending shivers through your entire body.
In a swift motion, by holding your left leg he laid you down on the bed. He lifted your ass a bit, grabbing your thong and slowly pulling it down. He threw it somewhere, not really caring. He was staring at you. He spread your legs, hands on your knees, he went down, kissing your thighs first.
“I missed the way you kiss my thighs every time before going down on me” he smiled as he looked at you again before finally going down on you. You gasped. You already started to breathe heavily. “I missed- oh god- I missed your tongue on my- my” you couldn’t even finish your sentence.
“on your..?” He asked “got to use your words mi amor” he teased
“on my clit” You said louder because your orgasm was coming. “Oh yes Pedro just- like- that!” You had your hands in his hair. You felt your orgasm getting closer and closer, taking over your entire body, making your legs shake.
He was licking and sucking your core just perfectly. His hands were holding your thighs, keeping your legs open just for him. You started to arch your back, arms falling on the side to help you stay still. Moans were leaving your mouth unconsciously, warning Pedro that you were about to come.
“Can you come for me cariño?” He said pulling away for a second, looking at you.
“If you keep going.. yes” you sighed and teased at the same time because he stopped right before you were about to feel the integrity of your orgasm. He smirked at your cockiness, but didn’t say anything, instead he went back in between your legs, finishing what he had started.
You didn’t know if it was because he stopped right before or not, but your orgasm hit you more intensely than it was about to before, making you release your juice into Pedro’s mouth. After a few seconds, you were still panting. He crawled back up to kiss you, not forgetting to leave a few sloppy ones on your stomach, breasts and neck.
“Is there something more your missed?” You were moving your hips a little bit because you still wanted more. You couldn’t help but smile at his question. He wanted you to say it.
“I missed the feeling of your dick inside of me” you said as you lowered your hand, starting to feel him through his briefs. “And I am not the only who’s missing something” you joked
“You’re not going to miss it for long” he said kissing you. He stood up, taking of his boxers. Oh yeah he missed you a lot too. Biting your lips you moved your finger, telling him to come closer. He didn’t hesitate a second. You cupped his face, kissing him all over his beard, ending on his lips.
“I missed you beard” you were running your fingers through it. “Still wet after you just ate me out” you chuckled, blushing just thinking about how a few seconds ago he was buried in between your legs. “I missed the butterflies in my stomach” you shyly admitted. His hand caressed your stomach.
“I missed your soft skin” he whispered as he went down to kiss your neck. “Smelling like vanilla” his left hand went down to your folds, slowly entering your vagina with two fingers. “I missed your sweet pussy” he said, moving his fingers before removing them. “That tastes like heaven” he added, licking them. You but your lips, feeling the heat coming to your cheeks.
Both your hands on his hips, you pulled him a bit closer, wanting to feel him entirely against your skin. He grabbed his dick, sliding it against your wet core, before slowly entering you. You both gasped and moaned at the same time, knowing that you extremely missed this feeling. Adjusting for a bit, he started with slow movements.
But it didn’t take long for you to demand more. You waited too long, you wanted to reach your climax as he was deep inside of you. His thrusts were getting faster already, each time going as deep as he could. His head was resting against your shoulder, leaving kisses from time to time. You had your hands in his hair, gripping onto it as your orgasm was coming.
His left hand was holding your waist, getting a little higher to hold your breast. His right hand started to work on your clitoris, adding a new sensation that sent you to heaven right away. It was too much at the same time and yet it wasn’t enough. Your moans were a lot louder, screaming his name. Pedro lowered his head a bit, perfectly placed to kiss your right breast that was left untouched right now. He left little bites around it, not forgetting your nipple, sending shivers that went along perfectly with your orgasm.
You were soon at your climax, your screams getting higher, hinting Pedro that you were there. And he was very close too. The feeling of your walls clenching around his dick was what made him join you. You were arching your back to the feeling, head falling behind, so Pedro’s left arm enveloped you and held you tight, because your arms weren’t enough. He was coming right after you.
You were both breathing heavily at the same time, creating one same and unique movement. Still holding you, he left a big sloppy kiss between your breasts before he pulled his head back to look at you. His left hand reached the back of your neck to push your head a bit so you could look at him too. You smiled at each other.
“I missed how much I want you” you said staring at him, feeling hot and sweaty. You could feel your skin sticking to his. He pulled out, leaving you feeling empty. You both laid down next to each other. “You know there’s one thing I can’t miss” you turned on your side to face him. He looked confused. “I can never miss how much I love you. I love you so so much” he immediately went to kiss you. The kiss quickly deepened into a more languorous one.
“You have no idea how much I love you too” he said, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You both laid down again, resting your head on his chest.
#pedro pascal#fanfic#imagine#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#oneshot#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal preferences#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro x reader#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal smut#pedrostories#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal request
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Heyyy!!! I absolutely loved your latest work “Taking it All In” I haven’t stopped crying since I read it. I was wondering if you could write something about the depression that the reader has in the story. Something along the lines where reader has been skipping school for some time due to depression and she hasn’t told Pedro about it. He finds out cuz eventually the school calls him and tells him whats going on with your absences and your bad grades. You two get into a fight about it because you refuse to tell him what’s going on as to not worry your dad. After days of not talking, cold shoulders and staying in your room/bed as much as possible Pedro finally cracks and tries to talk to you again. You’re in laying on your bed not wanting to move while Pedro is talking to you and he notices small cuts on your arm that your trying to hide, way to linear to be from your cat, and he finally puts the pieces together.
Taking It All In Pt. II (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)
Pt. 1
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings: Descriptions of Self-harm, mentions of depression, suicide, and some slight hinting of eating disorders.
A/N: Thank you! You're so sweet! I hope you like this part two of Taking it All in!! Also, thank you for the details in your requests! It helps to plan what to write!
It’s been months after that hike with your father. You had gotten help, but it only helped so much. You had this fear that if you told your therapist your actual thoughts, you’d end up somewhere where grippy socks were mandatory.
It didn’t help that you found your mother, you hadn’t told your father, but you searched and searched the internet until you found her. The woman who was so afraid of loving you, afraid of having a life with your dad, she was alive and well.
She was happy too. You would think it would make you feel happy to hear that she was happy, to see the photos of her and her family, her two kids and husband. But all it did was take you to a dark place. The images of her at her sons' soccer game, or her at her daughters' recital. It should be you in those photos with her.
This whole time you thought your mother was most likely dead or if she were alive, she was alone in some other country probably traveling. You didn’t ever imagine that she could have started another life. You hadn’t brought it up to your therapist, mostly because they’ve been trying to help you cope with other issues in your life. It was mostly how you felt about constantly having to travel from place to place or not having your father around as much, it meant a lot of journaling. Plus, if you told your therapist, it meant telling your father and you didn’t know how he’d react or if he already knew.
What if he already knew. You hadn’t thought of that, it was another scenario that could happen, another scenario you don’t know if you can handle.
You heard the front door open and then close, “I’m home!” You heard your dad call out.
You sighed to yourself, you had ditched another day of school, but luckily for you your dad left for meetings before you even got up. Meaning that it was easy to ditch. In fact, you hadn’t gone to school at all the past week.
Pedro was met with silence, he shrugged, “probably studying,” he muttered to himself. He made his way over to the kitchen to get dinner started. He wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he knew a thing or two.
You made your way down the hall, “There she is!” Pedro said as he heard your footsteps get closer, “Hey, I was thinking, how does spaghetti sound tonight?” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of apple juice.
“Sure,” you said with a shrug. You poured yourself a cup of apple juice, putting away the bottle right after.
“Long day at school?” You gave him a nod. “Alright, well, go ahead and rest. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” You felt horrible for lying to him. He had thought everything was getting better and that you were beginning to feel happier, but it was all just a lie. It was a mask.
** mentions of self-harm begin here **
You walked back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. The lying, the feeling of abandonment, everything, it just felt like it was all tumbling down. You pulled up your sleeves, revealing the linear cuts that you had done to yourself. It started off with something small, hitting your hands against something when you were mad, but the pain felt kind of nice.
Not kind of, it did feel nice. It took away the pain of everything in your mind for a moment and you liked it. You liked your mind being peaceful for just a moment. But those moments only lasted a few seconds and you needed something that would last longer. You had saw some girls with some cuts on their wrists at school, it wasn’t till one day you aksed one of the girls what they were while you both were in the bathroom. The girl seemed a bit embarrassed but you were genuinely curious. She explained what they were, but she didn’t explain it further.
For weeks you couldn’t help but think about it, but the thought of hurting yourself in that way seemed scary. What if you went too deep or if you got caught? But a week ago, when your dad had to work late, you felt yourself drowning in your thoughts. Hitting yourself against your bedframe wasn’t working. That was the night you first self-harmed, you felt lucky that the weather was getting cold again so hiding your scars was easy.
Your dad played some music while he began to boil the pasta. Your cat watched from the other side of the counter, he knew his boundaries and Pedro seemed to like the company. Pedro began to slowly dance to the rhythm of the song playing until it was cut off by the sound of ringtone, “That’s not part of the song,” he grumbled as he grabbed his phone.
The number looked familiar, he hesitated on answering, “Could be important or a scam,” he muttered. He shrugged to himself before answering the phone, “hello?”
“Hi! This is Linda from the JFK High School, may I speak to Y/N Pascal’s father?”
“This is he speaking,” Pedro responded. He had no clue why your school would be calling.
“Hi, Mr. Pascal! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past few days, it wasn’t until we looked through our files that we realized we had an old phone number.”
“Ah, yes, I changed my number. Probably should’ve updated you guys on that,” is that it? He thought.
“It’s quite alright, but the real reason why we’ve been trying to get ahold you is because we’ve noticed that Y/N hasn’t been attending her classes for the past week.”
Pedro stopped what he was doing, placing the wooden spoon he had in his hand down on the counter, “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.”
“I’m afraid not. Her teachers are beginning to worry now that her grades have been slipping and she hasn’t been showing up. We were wondering if maybe the family went on vacation and someone forgot to notify the school?”
“N-No, we’re not on vacation,” Pedro looked towards the hall.
“Well, is there any reason why she hasn’t been in school?”
“I-I don’t know, I thought she had been going to clases this whole time.”
“Will she be there on Monday?”
“She’ll be there Monday,” he stated.
“It is my obligation to let you know that if the student doesn’t show up for school for another full week that the school will revoke certain privileges for Y/N.” Pedro knew the consequences of you missing school, it could also mean jail time on his case.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this. Thank you, Linda.”
“Of course,” Linda said before hanging up.
Pedro placed his phone back on the counter, he then shut off the burners on the stove. “What do I do, gatito?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know what to say or ask even. He let out a deep sigh before making his way down the hall.
He knocked on your door, “Mija, puedo entrar?” (Can I enter?)
You opened the door, “dinner is ready already?” you asked with a confused expression on your face.
Pedro felt his heart break, there you stood, his little girl, in front of him. He never expect you to miss school and not tell him, it only meant one thing. You were lying to him about everything. “No,” he said softly. He was trying so hard to remain calm, but there was a part of him that wanted to yell and ask why the hell you werent going to schoo. Then there was that nurturing side of him that just wanted to ask you why you weren’t going to school. Both had the same question, just a different way of approaching it. “Can I come in?”
You shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. You watched as he sat on the edge of your bed, “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent truthful with me, okay?” He asked
You chuckled slightly, expecting some dumb question, “okay.”
“Mija, no estoy bromeando horita, necesito que me escuches.” (I’m not joking right now, I need you to listen).
Oh fuck, he knows, you thought. You gave him a nod, “did you miss school this past week?” You nod again. Pedro took in a deep breath, “Why?”
You shrugged, “papi, it’s no big deal.”
“No big deal!?” He yelled as he stood up. “Mija, do you know I can go to jail because you haven’t gone to school!? Do you have any idea how stupid that is? Que te estabas pensando, huh!?” (What were you thinking?)
You felt tears well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry! I just didn’t feel like going!”
“If you don’t feel like going then you tell me! How come you didn’t tell me?” You remained silent, Pedro let out a deep sigh, trying to calm down again. “What’s going on, Y/N??”
“Nothing,” you whispered.
“No me dices que nada esta pasando, por que tu no te comportas como asi. Tu eres mi hija, y yo queiro saber que esta pasando.” (Don’t tell me that nothing is happening because you don’t behave like this, You’re my daughter and I want to know what is going on.)
“Nada esta pasando!” You yelled, “Deja me en paz!” You walked out of your room. (Nothing is happening, leave me alone)
“Dejarte en paz?!” He followed you out. “What is going on with you?!”
“Would you just leave it alone? I didn’t go to school this week and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll go to school on monday, just leave it alone!”
“I’m not just gonna brush this off, this is serious, Y/N! Missing school for a week? You can’t just do that! So, what is going on?”
“Ugh! I don’t have to tell you every fucking thing okay?!” You yelled. You believe that this was probably the first time you ever yelled at your dad. The first time you had ever gotten in such a big argument. Didn’t mean that you two didn’t argue, you argued but it never led to a screaming match. Not like this.
Pedro stood there in disbelief, “Y/N M/N Pascal, I am your father and I demand to know what the hell is going on with you.”
You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t just blurt out that you found your mother; but not only did you find her, you also found her new family. You couldn’t tell him that you felt replaceable, that even he was replaceable, at least to your mother. You just couldn’t. “Nothing is going on,” you said.
“You’re grounded,” he said in defeat.
“Fine,” you said as you began to make your way back to your room.
“For two months,” he added. “I’ll need your phone and your game consoles.”
You stopped in the middle of the hall. You were doing this for him, you wanted to keep his happiness even at the cost of your own, “Fine.” You walked into your room, slamming the door behind you.
“Slam the door and I’m taking your T.V.”
You groaned in annoyance, “Fuck you,” you spat. You had instantly regretted saying it. Pedro stood there for a second, in shock mostly. He felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes, he wasn’t going to take your T.V. as a matter of fact, he didn’t want to take any of it away. He partially said it in hopes that you’d crack and tell him what was going on.
He heard the cat meow at his feet, he looked down, “I think I’m loosing her, gatito,” he whispered before turning around and making his way down the hall and back to the kitchen.
~~
Days went by, you didn’t speak to your dad all weekend. Spending most of your time in your bedroom, your mind was all over the place and you had self harmed some more. It felt like the more you did, the more you craved it or the more your mind raced, the more you felt the need to have that feeling.
You didn’t eat much either, for some reason you just couldn’t think about eating. Your stomach didn’t feel hungry either so you snacked on small things. When you came home from school on Monday, your dad was in the kitchen prepping for dinner. You walked past him, not saying a word. The tension was thick, someone could cut a knife through it.
Pedro didn’t say anything to you when you walked past him to grab something to drink, even though he wanted to say a million things. He had so much to talk to you about, so many exciting things, but he was stubborn and you were too.
When you didn’t come out for dinner, he left a plate at the foot of your door, knocking to let you know, just like he did for past two days and just like you did, you’d wait a few minutes before grabbing your plate. You would leave it on your desk, hoping that maybe you’d feel some sensation of hunger. Yet, just like the other full plates of food beside it, you’d never touch it.
“Just give her some time,” Javiera said into the phone. Pedro had called her Monday afternoon while he was out for a drive.
“How much time?” he asked, his voice strained from crying. He had called her up crying about twenty minutes ago, and like the big sister she was, she tried her best to console him through the phone.
“A few more days, she’ll crack soon enough,” she said hopeful. “You’re a good dad, Pedro.”
“I sure as hell don’t feel like it right now.”
“I know,” she began, “all parents feel that way one day or another.”
“I just… I wish I knew what happened you know? Why did she all of a sudden just become this totally different person?”
“Teenagers,” she expressed. “Don’t you remember how you were?”
“Don’t get me started,” he chuckled.
“You were the worst!” Pedro knew she was right. He had given his parents a hard time when he was a teenager. “It’ll get better, I promise.”
Tuesday comes and goes and so does Wednesday. By Wednesday night you ate some of your dinner, but you still couldn’t stomach to eat all of it. You only ate because of how dizzy you felt all day. Thursday comes and goes, you caved into your cravings more as each day passed, your arm was full of scars, it felt raw to the touch.
You cried yourself to sleep most nights. Friday night Pedro went to knock on your door, only to hear you crying. He knocked softly, but was only met with “Go away.” He felt so defeated, he wanted this silent treatment to be over with. He wanted his baby girl back and he wanted to help you with whatever you were going through. He knocked again, “Go away!” He shook his head, opening the door, you were laying in bed, your arms covering your face.
“Mija,” he said softly.
“Please, just go away!” you yelled.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it anymore,” he began to say, he noticed the uneaten food on your desk. His heart sunk, looking back over at you, taking in how you looked. He walked over to the desk, some of the food began to develop mold. He let out a shaky breath, walking over to the bed, “Baby girl,” he said. Pedro noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual long sleeve, for a while he was beginning to worry that you had begun to harm yourself because you were always wearing long sleeves.
It relieved him to see you in a short sleeve for once, he inched closer, you still hard your arms covering your face. You were too focused on what was on your mind to realize that your father was near you and that you weren’t wearing a long sleeve. Even if you had realized it, it would be too late.
Pedro spotted something red near your wrists, but your arms were in a position where he couldn’t see your whole wrists. Yet, the small amount he did see was enough to send him in a panic. Pedro was soft with his touch, he grabbed your hand gently, pulling it towards him so he could see your wrists.
You quickly pulled away your arm, holding it close to your chest as you sat up in the bed, “get out,” you said through clenched teeth.
“How long have you been doing that?” Your dad asks, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Get out!” you yelled.
“How long!?” tears fell from his eyes, he stood up from the bed. “How long, Y/N?” he asked again.
“Dad, I don’t want you to cry,” You said as you looked at the ground, “Just please get out.”
“No! I’m not gonna-” he inhaled, “you’re not shutting me out.”
“Please,” you begged as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You got up from the bed, walking over to the door and opening it. “Get out,” you begged.
He shook his head, “Why?” he cried, “Why would you do that to yourself?” You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, “And don’t say it’s the cat, because that’s too many for the cat. It’s too clean. I thought you were getting better.”
You looked at your dad, you could see the pain you were trying avoid. The heartache you hated to see, “I’m not better,” you confessed. “I’ve never gotten better.”
“What?” He asked in disbelief.
“I didn’t get better, okay?” You said loudly, holding back the sob that was scratching at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“You think I want to hear that my baby girl never got better?” You remained silent. He walked over to you, taking your had to look at the marks again. He sniffled, “My beautiful baby girl,” he sobbed, “why would you do this?”
You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a deep shaky breath, letting the sob take over you. “I couldn’t handle it anymore, it’s all too much, okay? It’s so loud in here,” you gestured towards your head.
Pedro couldn’t handle seeing you cry, he pulled you in, feeling you tightly wrap your arms around his body. “Why?” he kept asking.
“I was trying to protect you,” your dad let go of the embrace.
He placed his hands on your face, “Mija, I should be the one protecting you, Okay? Whatever it is that you’ve been holding in, I can handle it. You never have to worry about me.”
You wanted to spill everything, it was like the dam inside was breaking and this was just the little drop of water to break it. “I found her,” you confessed.
He looked at you with a confused expression, “who?”
“My mom,” you inhaled, “I found her,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. Pedro was in disbelief, she was alive, for the longest he just kind of accepted that she passed away.
“That’s what you were trying to protect me from?” He questioned.
You shook her head, “That’s not the best part,” you began. “You know what the best part is?” You began to walk back over to your bed. You let out a small sob, “The best part is that I also found out that we’re replaceable.” Pedro watched as you sat on your bed, it pained him to see you in such dismay. It also pained him to hear the news that your mother was alive, she was alive and had another family. “The woman we both thought was trying to protect us from herself, is out there with a family of her own-”
“Cariño,” your dad tried to interrupt.
“I have a brother and sister that I don’t even know! And she’s in these pictures laughing with them, she’s at birthday parties and soccer games,” you took in a shaky breathe.
“Y/N,” He took a couple steps towards you.
“That should be me, dad,” There was the drop of water to break the dam. “It should be us,” you sobbed. Pedro quickly pulled you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder, “It should be us,” you sobbed.
“I know, Mija,” he whispered as tears fell from his eyes, “I know.” He let you cry it out for a few minutes, mostly because at that moment he didn’t know what to say exactly. How he should console you after finding out something no one should ever experience. His mind wandered, how could someone create another family when they left one behind? He thought if it were him, he wouldn’t be able to do it. He knew it would always be in the back of his mind that he had abandoned another family.
Did it wander in the back of her head? Or did she just not care?
Pedro felt so angry just thinking about it. He wanted to track her down and just yell into the void. She was the love of his life or so he thought. He had considered her the love of his life, hopeful that one day she’d realize what she left behind and come back. She wasn’t coming back, though and now he knew that. Now he had to console you and find a way to show her what she missed out on.
Pedro let go of the embrace, taking your face in his hands once again. His thumb gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down your face, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking at you again. “We don’t need her,” he started to say.
“But-”
“I know, Mijita. It hurts,” you nod, “She has no idea what she’s missing out on, Mijita. Her kids have no idea what a horrible person she truly is as fucked up as that sounds, it’s true.” He gave you a smile through the tears, “The only thing that matters is that she gave me you, my beautiful baby girl. That’s all I know of her, she gave me you and she was nothing else.”
“You don’t regret being with her?”
Pedro could never regret it, “No, because then I wouldn’t have you. I can’t imagine my life without my little girl. I’m sorry you don’t have a mom in your life, but not every girl has multiple mom figures in their lives.” It was true, you had your tia and some of your dads close friends. Your dad let go of your face, he took a hold of your wrist. “But this,” he started to say, tears welled up in his eyes again, “Oh, baby girl,” he sighed.
“I’m sorry,” you cried.
“No, no, no,” he pulled you in for a quick embrace, before letting go, “we’re going to work on this together okay?” You nod, “I can help, we’ll make more appointments with your therapists, we’ll find healthy alternatives, and we’ll overcome this.” He choked back a sob, “but I never want to see you harming yourself again, please promise me that?” You remained silent.
You weren’t sure if you could promise it, mostly because you were addicted to the way it made you feel. “Prometeme, Y/N.” (Promise me)
“I-I’ll try,” you finally said. Pedro didn’t want to push it, if trying was what he could get, then it was enough for him. He could work with trying. Trying meant putting the effort and it meant to him that you still wanted to live.
“Trying is all I need,” he said. “I can’t lose you. Know that you have people that love you.”
You looked up at your dad in realization, you never realized how much it could impact your dad. How self harm was always correlated with darker actions. Darker actions that your father had a past with. This time, you pulled him into an embrace, “you won’t lose me,” you said. “I can promise you that.”
He let out a relieved sigh, “we’ll have to talk about the food on your desk too.”
“I’m sorry,” you began. “I just-”
“No, I know.” You didn’t have to say more, he knew what it was like. To be too much in your mind to even eat. He understood, “let’s get you something to eat, hmm?”
You nod, watching as he got up from the bed, “I love you, papi.”
“I love you too, Mija,” he gave you a small smile. You got up from the bed, following him into the kitchen. He ordered you your favorite take out, once the food had arrived you both took the food to the living room.
Pedro glanced over at your wrist from time to time, his heart sank every time, but he was going to get you better help. Over time, the cuts will heal and they’ll just be white little memories of the battles you’ve dealt with, but Pedro knew he never wanted you to feel like you’ve hit rock bottom. From here on out, he was going to try his hardest to make sure you were your healthiest, physically and mentally.
He placed a small kiss on your temple, “love you,” he said softly.
You gave him a smile, “Love you too, dad,” you said, focusing your attention back on the television. You both knew the journey from here on out wasn’t going to be easy, it wasn’t said aloud, but it was like a silent acknowledgment. But eventually, it’ll be okay because pain was just temporary.
Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnookok @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @twkobii
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#pedro pascal x daughter!reader#pedro pascal x daughter#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal daddy#pedro pascal x teen#pedro pascal x teen!reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x daughter teen#pedro pascal request#pedro pascal teen!reader#pedro pascal x teen reader#pedro pascal x daughter reader
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Pedro Pascal one shots & requests
* indicates smut. 18+, minors do not interact.
one shots:
Dirty Thirty*
The Night Before
Birthday
When it Rains
requests:
Take Care
Just the Way You Are
The Interview
Trials and Tribulations
Roasted
Precious Moments
Pranked
Expecting the Unexpected
#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal masterlist#Pedro pascal request#Pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#Pedro pascal stories
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hi! i just read misfire & omfg?😭😭 pathetic dieter is top 2!! i was wondering if you would consider doing an alternative to where the reader does engage??
Sweet anon, what a wonderful question.
The answer is absolutely, and I have, and also I may have written the bulk of this earlier today instead of doing my job.
Thank you so much for reading Misfire and your kind words! Without further adieu I present you: Misfire (Anon's Version)
Summary: Dieter gets waxed for a role and is way too into it.
Word Count: 1,494
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN! Reader
Rating: 18+ explicit
Warnings: 18+ mdni, body hair waxing, pain kink, humiliation kink, degredation kink, praise kink, sub!Dieter, dom!Reader, anal fingering, prostate orgasm, coming untouched, minimal aftercare, no use of y/n
It isn’t the stickiest situation Dieter’s ever been in, but it is still quite sticky.
The last thing he expected for a Tuesday at 8am was to be ass naked on a cold esthetician table, hard as a rock. All for a stupid role about stupid Olympic divers.
Because your hands are so gentle, which is the sexiest fucking contrast to the sting your wax leaves as you rip it from his fuzzy asscheeks.
His breath leaves him in little whimpers as your wax stick gets closer and closer to his entrance, and he’s drooling from his mouth and his cock at this point.
Which is fine, since he’s on his stomach. And maybe he’s grinding into the medical grade sanitary paper that covers your waxing table, and trying to disguise his squirming as discomfort.
It would’ve worked, too, if he didn’t have to wax every inch of the front of his body as well.
But now you’re telling him to flip over, and he doesn’t want to move. Any other time he’d be dying to get his cock out and swing it around. But you’re just trying to do your job, and here he is, leaking onto your poor little waxing table, soiling it.
With a heaved sigh, he rolls onto his back, clambering all awkwardly on the small space. You’re turned away from him, preparing the next glob of hot wax, and his cock throbs.
“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and shameful, and you barely hear him.
“What’s that?”
Dieter can’t say it again. He just grumbles and covers his eyes with his arm.
“Oh. Look at you, you poor thing.”
Dieter’s blood runs cold at the sound of your teasing voice. Well, all the blood that isn’t in his dick. The dick that’s now dribbling another stream of pre-cum as it jerks in the air.
“I didn’t mean to,” he tells you.
And he looks so pretty, with his wide brown eyes and his flushed face. But he’s anything but innocent, and you know it.
“Did you not, Mr.Bravo? Was I just imagining you humping my table like a bitch in heat, then?”
You watch his chest expand with a gasp, see the wheels in his head turning for a desperate attempt at getting him out of this unscathed.
He’s going to be fun to play with, you think.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll uh, I’ll go, and I’ll make sure you’re paid triple for the trouble— I can do this myself at home.”
He starts to move to climb down from the table, but you don’t let him. Your gloved hands press down firmly on each of his thighs respectively. His prick bobs and sputters at the contact, and you’re sure your grin is devious.
“Nuh-uh, you aren’t going anywhere, Dieter. You want to act like a needy whore, then I’ll treat you like one.”
There’s a split second where apprehension gets the best of you, and Dieter freezes up, and you think maybe all the debauched tabloid entries you’ve read about him aren’t true at all. Maybe you’ve made a horrible mistake, and he isn’t a completely unhinged, freaky sex fiend at all.
But then his body goes lax and his eyes close as he whimpers.
“Yes, yes please.”
You huff out a sigh of relief and let your hands smooth up and down his thighs.
“There you are, good boy. You know your place, don’t you?”
“Mmm-hmm!”
He nods his head and looks back at you with not a sliver of an iris to be found.
“Get on your hands and knees for me, then.”
He’s so eager to comply, crinkling up the paper on your table as he flips to his stomach, then eases up onto his hands and knees.
His back arches as he hangs his head between his shoulders, and his freshly waxed ass is gorgeously on display, all for you.
“For such a naughty thing, you’re being awfully good for me now,” you say, swiping your gloved fingers along the back of his thigh.
He shivers, and goosebumps break out all over his smooth skin, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life.
“I’ll be so good, promise,” he whispers.
You hum and squeeze the meat of his asscheek. He pushes into your hand and keens, and you watch another clear bead pour from his straining cock onto the crumpled paper underneath.
Your other hand reaches up to grab him and spread, and you’re filled with awe as his puckered hole flutters at the attention.
“Oh god,” he sighs, slumping slightly, balancing himself on one hand as the other makes a valiant effort to wrap around his own prick.
It falls just short, though, when you grab his wrist and pin it behind him.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?”
The noise that works from his throat is pitiful, defeated and impatient and pleading.
“N—no, no, you didn’t. I’m sorry.”
You squeeze his wrist harder, and watch his dick bounce wildly between his legs, begging silently for any friction at all.
“That’s what I thought,” you coo.
His breaths are coming in more ragged, now, and his hips wiggle with desperation. Having such an influential, powerful man reduced to a puddle under you rministrations sends you reeling. Mad with power.
So, you throw caution to the wind, and hawk a mouthful of spit directly onto his hole.
He jolts and gasps and his face falls against the table as his arm gives out on him. His ass tilts up even more, and he spreads his legs farther apart and whimpers as your saliva drips down past his taint and onto his heavy sac.
“Please let me come,” he begs, “I need to come.”
“Aww,” you mutter, “so eager.”
He gulps another lungful of air, stuttered and wet, and you realize he’s crying, little droplets streaming from the corners of his eyes and wetting your table. All of a sudden, you find sympathy.
“You can come,” you say.
He tries valiantly to reach for his aching prick, but your grip on his wrist doesn’t waver.
“Ah-ah,” you tut, “you can come, but you’re not touching your cock.”
He groans, and at first you think he’s defeated, but his dick throbs between his legs and sputters another few dribbles. The paper below him is transparent now, soaked and soiled from pre-come and drool and tears and your own spit. You want to see him come so badly, make an even bigger mess, and he doesn’t seem very far off.
His legs are shaking and his hips rock back and forth absentmindedly, searching for anything he can get and coming up short.
So you relent, and you help him along. Your gloved finger presses against his hole and it damn near sucks you in, greedy and ready.
“Oh god, oh shit.”
You feel the warmth of him draw in the tip of your finger as the ring of muscle spasms and relaxes. You enter so easily, a smooth, slow slide until you’re knuckle deep and Dieter is rocking his hips back and forth to urge you to move. You press in and out in minute motions, barely drawing back before diving in again.
And then you curl your finger, and he yelps, and his legs tense up.
“Have I– have I been good?”
His little hiccup of breath is sweet, pathetic music to your ears and you let out a satisfied hum.
“You’ve been very good for me, Dieter.”
“Yeah– fuck. Please–”
“Come for me, make a mess for me. Be a good boy and come.”
You can feel it before you’re even done speaking, his tight hole clenching around your finger. His legs tremble with the force, pulled taught and strained, and his groan almost sounds pained as he finally releases.
His cock jerks against nothing as rope after rope of his seed sprays your table, each streak just a little less forceful than the last, until the final few drops weakly ooze from his spent cock.
He whines when you slowly slip your finger from him, and curls into himself when your hands leave his body.
You round the table to look him in the eyes, sleepy and sated and red from the tears.
“Okay?” you ask, disposing of your soiled gloves.
He sighs, and you thread your fingers through his sweaty curls.
“I’m good,” he tells you with a hoarse voice, “thank you. For uh– For all of that.”
You give him a sweet smile, and he returns it, so vulnerable here, curled up into a ball, shivering from his cooling sweat, and lax.
You find your handy box of tissues behind you, and set the on the table beside him.
“Now clean yourself up and we can finish your wax.”
Dieter watches in disbelief as you leave the room with a nonchalance that makes him burn.
He aches with the hope that you'll let him return the favor next time.
#dieter bravo#dieter bravo fanfiction#dieter bravo fanfic#dieter bravo fic#dieter bravo x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#sub!dieter bravo#dieter bravo whimpering#I love you anon thank you for this motivation <3#pedro pascal request#dieter bravo request#prompt fill
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“You’re gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?”
I love how Ellie was smiling even before saying that line, like she was so proud that she came up with it lmfao
#the last of us#tlos#joel miller#ellie#pedro pascal#bella ramsey#hbo tlos#pedro pascal tlos#pedro pascal request#ellie williams
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I *adored* your Pedro Pascal friends to lovers - please do more! 🥺
thank you soooo muchhh. feel free to send a request!
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hey guys!
sorry i took a long break from writing, i am back and will be working through my requests now but i have writers block and a massive obsession with our handsome pedro pascal!
my requests are open for pedro and joel miller!!
#tlou show#tlou part 1#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal request
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Imagine no outbreak Joel seeing you doing a million steps nightly skin care routine and just laying under the covers and waiting for you to be done and come to bed already and slowly getting frustrated
Maybe a little toddler cuddling in bed with him and Joel fake complaining to them about you
“Mommy is taking a long time huh?”
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
a/n: this request is so so so cute, anon you're a genius
he was being a drama queen,
as always.
You'd been in the bathroom a total of five minutes and already he was groaning and calling out to you as if you'd been in there an hour.
"I've just finished washing my face baby, I'm not even half way done" you laughed, patting your skin with a towel
Another groan sounded from the bedroom and you just smiled, as you reached for the fist of the many products that were gonna go on your face.
This was part of your routine now.
Him moaning and complaining because you were taking too long and wanting nothing more than to just have you there in bed with him into his arms, while you laughed in front of the mirror at how much of an unpatient man you had married.
"I don't even understand why you do that stuff" he sighed, loud enough for you to hear, turning again in frustration under the blanket "You're already gorgeous, darlin'"
You rolled your eyes, your mouth betraying you with a smile
The amount of times you'd heard him say that...
Doing your skincare, makeup, putting on lotion... all tasks that to him did nothing but lessen the amount of time you could be in his arms.
"nice try miller" you chuckled, peering out of the bathroom door to talk to him "but flattery ain't gonna work"
Just as his eyes narrowed, a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, a little goblin jumped on the bed, having sneaked in without either of you hearing.
Said Goblin, being Emma, your beautiful, smart, nosy daughter.
"daddy!" she giggled, jumping literally on top of him, earning a painful groan from Joel, before he smiled, feigning an attack on her by wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down to him.
"whatcha doing here peach?"
"'m not tired" she explained, hiding her face in his neck
"aw babygirl, you can stay with us for a while, but you have to sleep in your own bed ok?" he murmured, stroking her hair "You're a big girl now"
"mh-mh" she nodded
Your heart warmed as you watched the scene before you, but before you lost precious moments where Joel was too preoccupied with your daughter to realize you still hadn't finished, you went back to your skincare.
But of course, it was all in vain.
Not even a minute passed that you heard him murmur "Mommy's taking a long time huh?" to Emma, who gasped as she answered
"where is she?"
"she's in the bathroom, putting all sorts of stuff on her face"
"what stuff?" She frowned, confused
"stuff she doesn't need" he explained
You huffed a laugh as you popped your head out of the bathroom, still massaging some serum onto your cheeks "I'm almost done I swear"
"mommy!" Emma smiled wide as she saw you
"Hi pumpkin" You blew her a kiss in return
You watched as Joel murmured something in her ear, something you could very well hear
"tell mommy she doesn't need all that stuff, that she's already beautiful"
Emma didn't waste a second before complying
"You're pretty, mommy!"
You rolled your eyes at him, although the smile on your lips didn't fade one bit
"thank you baby" you stifled a chuckle "but you should explain to daddy that the reason I am so beautiful as he keeps saying, is because of this stuff"
"daddy!" Emma scolded him, turning back to him "You didn't tell me that! You should listen to mommy, she's smart"
He couldn't help but laugh at that,
God if she wasn't right
"You're right" he grinned "she is smart, and I should listen to her" he said "But you know what would be better? If while she was explaining all that smart stuff she's always saying, she was right here beside us, so we could cuddle with her, wouldn't it?"
Emma considered what he said for a moment before agreeing
"yes" she nodded "it would"
You sighed, exasperatedly, as you finally exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind you
"there, I'm done" you said, climbing into bed "happy now?"
They almost answered in unison, but while Emma yelled her "yes!" as she jumped between you two, Joel's "yes" was much calmer... only a hell of a lot more smug.
He brought you closer with his strong arms, sandwiching your daughter between you and him in a tight hug.
"You're the least patient person I've ever met Miller" you murmured, turning to him with a glare
"And you, sweetheart, are the most perfect one I've ever met."
You rolled your eyes, your mouth once again betraying you
"I better be" you bit down a smirk, watching him grin
"I love you" he murmured, ghosting your lips
"I love you too assh-" your eyes lowered to where your daughter held onto you, forcing you to censure yourself "I love you too" you said, before he kissed you softly, his hand drawing gentle circles on your waist,
You leaned away when quiet snores sounded through the room, and once you lowered your gaze, you found out why.
"just this time" Joel immediately suggested, giving you his best puppy eyes
"You said that last time too" you reminded him
The pout on him persisted, as he tried harder to convince you
"please?" he begged,
You let out another exasperated sigh, before inevitably, as always, agreeing
"fine" you breathed "but this is the last time"
He kissed you again, and when he let go... you swore your daughter had a smile matching his on her lips.
You would have bet a fortune that this was their plan all along.
#did i think this request was for pedro until i was halfway done? yes. yes i did#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#dad!joel miller#joel miller x f!reader#no outbreak!joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#tlou#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfic#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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got another pedro x plus size reader (because they give me confidence and make me feel better about myself)
going to a premier of one if pedro movies and then going to like an after party with all his celeb friends. having drinks and fun etc. turns into reader and pedro dancing and reader grinding/twerking on pedro.
goes based off that video of tiffany hadish dancing on pedro at a party and oh how i envy that woman. *hey alexa play that should be me by justin bieber*
then they go home and yeah make that shit
❤️🔥🔥 spicy 🔥❤️🔥
(i love you and thank you for sharing your writing you deserve the world babe 🥹🩷 )
His Girl
Pairing: Pedro Pascal X Fem! Reader
Summary: unknown feelings between you and Pedro is admitted after some sexual tension.
Word Count: 3.2k
Content Warnings: friends to lovers trope (hope you don’t mind), drinking alcohol, spicy dancing, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie. :)
Note: I’ve not felt peace since I’ve seen this video. He’s so bashful and I would love nothing in the world more than to shake my ass on this man. (And hug him) 💜🤌🏼 song is 'just a little bit' by 50 cent. you know..... that one tiktok edit <3
You knew you messed up coming to an afterparty with you best friend, Pedro. You knew you would end up drinking too much and having too much fun, you knew you would pretend for a night that Pedro was yours and things would be everything you ever wanted in the morning, but it was never, it was always you and Pedro sharing the same bed, fully clothed from the night before, both with pounding heads and hungover. A vomit bucket had been placed on your side on the bed, who did it you were never sure, but it was almost routine for you two to hangout afterwards.
Which is why you were reluctant to join Pedro this evening, a bar, with drinks and dancing, it was inevitable and you could hardly bare it anymore. The pain was too much for you to handle, being Pedro's friend was too much for you when you had moments when you acted like a couple. The moments like this where you were by his side, it was insufferable, you found yourself wanting more than friendship, not daring to speak a word no matter how much it hurt.
“You look incredible, give me a spin gorgeous.” You oblige, cheeks flushed hot and red at Pedro’s praise. He takes your hand in his, holding it above his head as he spins you, looking you up and down to get the full picture of you.
Your curves on full display in the dress that clung to you, your hips accentuated had Pedro feeling feral, like something was going to overcome him and he was just going to pounce-he could hardly contain the way his cock twitched at the sight of you.
“Alright, alright. We better get a move on or we’ll be late.” Encouraging him out the door, you give him a gentle push as you lead him out of your apartment, the feeling of his broad shoulders under your fingertips had your hand lingering a moment longer than it should’ve. God he looked incredible, the suit fit him perfectly, his tummy slightly hung over his pants as the white dress shirt underneath was tightly tucked into his dress pants.
His hair was soft and unruly as the curls sit on his head, a masterpiece thanks to your fingers making quick work of his messy hair and some styling mousse.
He opens the door for you, like a complete gentleman, little do you know his eyes are stuck to the picture of your ass bending over to get into his car. Fuck he really has to get a grip of himself.
He follows the gps instruction, coming to a stop at a red light, you realise he’s starring at you, your ears tingle at how hot they feel under his watchful eyes.
“Do I have something on my face?” You question anxiously, pulling down the reflector to check in the mirror if there was something he could be starring at, wanting to save yourself from further embarrassment.
“No, you just look beautiful.” You feel the ache in your heart forming before he finishes the sentence, realising how much you love this man; it was difficult, it almost felt forbidden. Pedro didn’t do relationships, you knew you were absolutely fucked from the moment you met him.
“Hey, everything okay?” You hum in surprise as he pulls you out of your own head, not realising how much your thoughts had consumed you. His brown orbs are full of concern as your mood changes after his compliment, he thinks he’s done something wrong.
“Yeah, sorry. Just got some things on my mind.” His hand rests on your forearm, offering a gentle caress to keep you grounded, with him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He pulls up to the valie parking, the car still running as the man dressed in a tuxedo takes Pedro’s car keys.
“No, it’s fine. Let’s just enjoy our evening, sorry for being a bummer.”
Pedro can’t help the frown that pinches his eyebrows together, he wanted to help, to hold you, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this, so distant and far from the woman he knew you to be. He sees the way you push it all back internally, like putting a half read book back onto the shelf to be finished later, the fake smile that sits on your lips as you enter the venue.
The bar is full of people you know, the purple lights shining bright on your matte purple dress, the colour looks incredible on your skin as you approach the bar to ask for a drink. The drink is slid across the bar and you take a sip, scrunching your face up in disgust but swallow the cool liquid anyway, it warms your insides in a way that’s addicting, so you throw your head back and finish what’s in the glass. You ‘ah’ as you set the glass down and order another, confidence through the roof as your empty stomach consumes the calories from the drink.
The lack of food in your stomach had the alcohol settling in your blood stream too quickly, it went straight to your head, feeling a little woozy as you’d consumed the second drink. The tall glass full of nothing but alcohol, your tolerance was below average and you mindlessly leave Pedro at the bar, trying to forget about the love you have for him. Tonight you were going to have fun.
You wished you could’ve prepared yourself for the night ahead of you.
Things were going great for most of the night, casual talk with some family here and there, after your sixth drink in one hour you were beginning to regret not taking more time in between. The last of the liquid slips down your throat, and for the first time since you arrived together, you see Pedro watching you.
A familiar tune rings in your ears through the blaring speakers that would leave you with a headache tomorrow. But for now, that tune set something slight in you, you set the empty glass down on a nearby table, your body moving to the beat. This song did things to you, reminded you of him. You decide to put on a show for him, since he was watching and you were absolutely out of your mind giddy and drunk.
Damn baby all I need is a lil' bit
A lil' bit of this, a lil' bit of that
Get it crackin' in the club when you hear the shit
Drop it like it's hot, get to workin' that back
You keep eye contact as you roll your hips to the music, feeling completely yourself as you amerce yourself and give in to the music completely.
You don’t feel him at first, once you realise he’s behind you, you smirk mischievously with an idea that’s probably not a good idea, but fuck it. He was looking so fine and this song had you feeling some kinda way.
Girl, shake that thing, yeah, work that thing
Let me see it go up and down
Rotate that thing, I wanna touch that thing
When you make it go 'round and 'round
His hands find your hips, guiding you closer to him as you shake your ass skilfully, grinding on him teasingly, you look back to him and his hair is messy, eyes are dark and he’s got one hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, a shy grin on his lips as he enjoys himself and the sight of you on him.
The crowd that’s surrounded you was cheering, their voices and noise in the back of your mind as you stand straight and turn to face Pedro, wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms around your waist as you and he work in sync to move against each other.
I wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit
Take 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit
Get to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit
Get to lickin' it, a lil' bit
Pedro’s hand caress your hips, running them up and down your curves, dark eyes watching you intensely as you show off for him, your confidence attracting him to you tenfold. The way your body moved effortlessly, the way you held eye contact with him and ran a hand down his chest seductively had him weak in the knees.
Your hands make quick work to unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt, never minding the people around you that are videoing the interaction, you felt like you and Pedro were the only two people in the room. His hands caress your ass, grabbing a handful in a state of his own drunken haze and need for more of you. He pulls you closer, you’re flush against his sweating body and you feel his rock hard cock straining in the confines of his pants.
You feel yourself soaking your perfect lace panties as his hands guide your ass to grind against him, his eyes breaking contact with your own to lean his forehead down onto your shoulder, kissing the bare skin in butterfly kisses, licking a stripe up your neck never reminding the sweat.
“C’mon baby you’re killing me, need you do fucking bad.” You gasp at his full transparency, regardless of your flirty interaction on the dance floor the song fades out, he still holds you against him, not wanting to lose this moment with you.
“Let’s go home handsome. I’ll take care of you.” He gives you one last squeeze of your ass and rushed through the farewells of the crowd, you walk closely in front of him to hide his indiscretion. Once you’re outside, the cool air has your teeth chattering as you wait for an Uber Pedro had ordered, he would worry about the car later.
You feel a warmth embracing your shoulders, soft material clinging off your body. You turn to Pedro and see he’s given you his suit jacket, left in his white long sleeve dress shirt that’s still tucked into his suit pants. He suddenly seems shy as your eyes scan him up and down, pausing when you see his soft tummy slightly overhanging his dress pants, your hands caress him in a silent praise, but verbalise it anyway, knowing he’s insecure about it.
“Fucking love your tummy, you know that?” You’re swaying, he’s convinced that it’s just because you’re drunk, in a way because you were trying to distract yourself from whatever was upsetting you earlier.
“I know baby.” He holds your head to his chest, playing with your hair with his fingertips grazing your scalp you let out a groan, he always knew how to make you feel good in an intimate way.
You pass out as soon as you get in the Uber, Pedro watches over you to make sure you’re still breathing, the amount you had to drink tonight was more than he’d ever seen. He also didn’t want you to choke if you vomited, so he pulled your body into him, turning your head downward facing his lap, yes it would be unfortunate if you did happen to puke right into his lap, but hey-he would take the chance.
He pays for the Uber when you arrive back at your place, he manages to pick you up bridal style, all while digging through your purse to find your keys to unlock the front door. Not knowing how to manoeuvre around your house in the dark, he turns a light on which stirs you from your slumber, your eyes fluttering open just as he sets you down in your bed.
He returns with a wet washcloth to wipe your face, trying to cool you down, offering you a drink of water which you accept. “Thanks.” You mumble embarrassed of your shenanigans tonight. “Need any help getting into your pyjamas?” You nod pathetically, bottom lip jutting outward in a big pout as you give him your best puppy dog eyes. Your legs still felt like jelly and your arms were too heavy for you to lift, you were starting to sober up, but you just wanted to lay in the comfort of your mountain of blankets and too many pillows.
He unzips your dress from the side, peeling the straps from your shoulders, pulling it down to your ankles and hanging it up on the coat hanger and up on the wall, not wanting to crinkle or have the delicate material stepped on.
He didn’t realise you weren’t wearing a bra when he comes back with pyjamas, the only thing covering your body was the small piece of material of your black mesh panties. He feels guilty that his cock bounces at the sight of you, bare. You’re more perfect than he ever could’ve imagined. He feels like a pervert, you need his help and he tells himself he’s doing wrong by you.
Your hand grasps his, drawing his attention back to your face, your bottom lip sucked in between your teeth as you watch him, noticing his internal struggle as he sees you, all for him.
You grab him by the collar, pulling him down to you, smashing your lips into his in desperation, tears of pent up feelings and hidden emotions coming to play in the fight for dominance. He pulls back, gasping for air, your hands tangle in his hair and tug lightly which earns a soft moan from him.
“We don’t have to do this.” He offers, giving you an out before you possibly ruin your friendship.
“Want to, want you. Love you so much, please.” A single tear escapes the corner of your eye, he wipes it away with his thumb, sincerity on his face as you confess your love for him.
“Fuck baby I’ve always loved you, why didn’t you say anything.” You help him unbutton his shirt, discarding it to your bedside nightstand, it knocks something off in the process which makes you laugh.
“Was scared you wouldn’t want me cause of how I look.” Pedro grips your face gently with one hand, forcing you to look at him, a sympathetic look strewn on his face, “oh baby, you’re so fucking perfect. And god you know how to shake that ass.”
You giggle as he grabs a handful of your ass, pushing your panties to the side in a desperate attempt to feel you, he couldn’t wait much longer. The action sent you into a frenzy, hands grabbing at his belt as you unbuckled him, pulling his pants and underwear down to his knees, spreading your legs to make room for him between your legs. Your eyes are wide and you inhale a gasp as you see the size of him, it’s thick, about 7 inches and a few shades lighter than his skin tone, he was trimmed and fuck he was perfect.
“Is it okay?” He mutters nervously, anxiety driving his insecurity. You look at him through your lashes and bath your eyes at him as he’s hovering over you.
“It’s fucking perfect baby, you’re so big I dunno if I can take it.” Pedro grunts at your praise, his cock jumping upward.
His fingers slide into you easily, your hole is dripping onto your sheets, the alcohol being a bad influence on your holes need to be fucked. He slowly pumps two fingers inside of you, not bothering to take his time to start of with one, you took him easily with how wet you are, sucking his fingers back in as he curled them upward at the spongey flesh that had your back arched off the bed and eyes clenched shut.
“Fuck Pedro, feels so good.” He leans his head down, humming against your breasts, your hardened nipples are aching with need, wanting some attention paid to them too. He kisses them sloppily, nipping and grazing his teeth as he pulls away, the sensation has you squirming beneath him.
“Need more, please,” you beg impatiently, just wanting his cock to fill your cunt, needing to feel him, all of him.
“It’s okay baby, I’ll take care of you.” His thumb meets your aching clit, relieving some pressure as he swirls it around in delicious small tight circles, the pressure was building by the second, the pleasure was almost too much, the skilful action has you gripping your duvet, legs wrapping around his own as you try to pull him closer, “come on baby, cum on my fingers.” You fell apart at his words, creaming on his fingers that massaged your sweet spot, your legs are shaking and your ears are ringing as a string of moans leave your lips. He continues pumping into you slowly, stringing your climax along as much as he can.
When he takes his fingers out of you, the emptiness makes you whine, he sucks your orgasm off his fingers, the action makes you squirm.
“I don’t have a condom baby.” He says pitifully, the head of his cock sticky in clear precum, the head was angry and red at being hard all night with no friction to help relieve him.
“Don’t care, I’m on the pill n I’m clean, please. Need you so bad.” Your voice wavers, still feeling the effects of your orgasm. He guides his cock to your entrance, watching your eyes for any signs of regret. He slides the head in, it’s thick and his fingers are no prep for the size of him, it burns slightly as he pushes in, you whimper, “fuck, so big.” He lets you adjust before pushing further into you, bottoming out, he lets out a breathy groan at the feel of you.
“Not gonna last with how good you feel.” He admits shamefully, you caress his face and kiss his forearm that’s right by your head, “it’s okay baby, move, please.”
Your hole quickly gets used to the size of him, your chest is heavyifng at how he takes your breath away, you bring your legs up to wrap around his lower back, bringing him closer to you, into you.
“Jesus’s fucking Christ baby,” he mutters, finding a steady pace as he pumps into you, slamming into your puffy walls, your whimpers and moans are getting louder and louder as your second climax builds, “fuck ‘m gonna cum, harder please.” He obliges, fucking into you ruthlessly, wanting you to cum again as he begins to sweat, trying to stop himself from cumming in you before you can reach your high.
“Fuck fuck fuck me, fuck Pedro, that’s it. Cock feels so fucking perfect.” Your legs tremble as you fall apart on his cock, stomach spasms as you come undone again, this orgasm coming down on you harder than the last.
Pedro cums seconds later, “fuck, feel so good baby.” His voice is breathy, deep and husky as he cums, his moans loud as the white ropes of his cum paint your walls, his sperm shooting deep inside your womb.
You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to lie completely flush against your cool, sweaty skin. You both sit in silence as you feel him go soft inside of you. You massage the back of his head, twisting the curls around your pointer finger.
“Did you mean it?” He asks, voice raspy and vulnerable.
“Mean what?” Unsure of what he means, what did you say?
“That you love me.” You feel anxious, a thousand thoughts running through your head per minute.
“Yeah I do.” He relaxed into you more, breathing evens at your words and you feel yourself becoming more at ease.
“Good, cause I want you to be mine."
You kiss the corner of his lips, "would love nothing more than to be yours."
Thank god you went out drinking this evening.
#pedro pascal#pedropascal#pedro pascal rpf#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x fem reader#pedro pascal x plus size reader#pedro pascal request
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Hi . Pedro × raeder
It's few months into the relationship and pedro , being a bad sleeper , one day woke up from a terrible nightmare . The reader is up so she calms him down and pedro hugs her and tell her ( I love you ) for the first time .
Pedro Pascal x f!reader
Warnings: fluff and light but very light angst if you squint
A/N: I had to write this one because I think I'm getting sick and I needed some fluff and comfort 😭
You finished your glass of water silently and placed it back in the sink. You checked the dark empty kitchen and made your way back to the bedroom.
You'd woken up about an hour before and decided to sneak out of bed not to disturb Pedro. You knew how hard it was for him to have a decent night's sleep and didn't want him waking up because you were caught up watching funny videos on your phone.
So you hung out in the living room for a while until you felt sleepy again.
As you silently climbed up the stairs you could hear muffles and whimpers, frowning softly you sped up and finally found Pedro tossing and turning in bed. His eyes closed shut as he mumbled something you couldn't really understand what it was, but your heart clenched as you saw he was suffering like that.
You rushed to bed and touched his arm softly, trying to wake him up, but it was no use.
You sat on the edge of bed and stroked his hair and cupped his cheeks, holding his head in place "Pedro!!!" you raised your voice a couple of times until he finally opened his eyes. He panted and looked all around confused, as slowly it sank in how all those images of pain and sadness were nothing but a nightmare.
He found your worried eyes on him and immediately wrapped his arms around your smaller body, clinging to you and burying his face into your neck, the smell of your hair bringing so much comfort to him. He took a few deep breaths but didn't dare look at you, no, not yet. He just wanted to hold you in his arms. His heart was filled with comfort and love and he could feel it was about to overflow.
"I got you Pedro, you're not alone" you told him, wanting to assure him that things would be alright. Even if he never told you what his nightmares were about, you knew they haunted him, and you wanted to do whatever you could to soothe that feeling.
"I know… thank you cariño" he whispered back, his heart tightened at how sweet you were and he realized right then and there he never wanted to let go of it.
"Te amo cariño" he whispered "te quiero, mi amor"
_____
Got any requests? Send them in!
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal headcanon#pedro pascal headcanons#pedro pascal request
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I have an idea for pedro × reader
They get into a fight about something and the reader leaves the house . She comes back hours later and see pedro worried and angry searching for her for hours so he is mad but they finally make up . ( romantic ending please)
I’ve seen another person writing one similar request. I like the idea ! I actually like better what I wrote here than the smut (if we can even call it that) I wrote last night 😂 is this romantic enough at the end?
I’m coming back to my place tomorrow hopefully I’ll feel better than this past week at my parents!
——————————————————————————————
You were sitting on the couch, watching tv when your phone rang. Pedro was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes from lunch. You got up, thinking your phone was on the coffee table, or even the couch, but nothing.
“P? Have you seen my phone?” He turned around, looking for it.
“Yes on the counter”
“Thanks!” You said, grabbing your phone. It was work. Pedro might have seen it too because of what he said.
“Why is your work calling you on a Sunday afternoon?” You simply shrugged, showing him that you didn’t know why. But you actually knew why. You were on a big project. You had to organize a presentation, prepare an entire event on it, and at the same time, write at least twenty pages about it. You loved you job, you really did, but you hated those periods because you had to do everything alone. You had no coworkers on this, it was a one person project.
Every month works like that. Each month it’s a different person, thank god you are around twenty to work there, but it obviously had to be you at some point. Pedro knew how important it was for you, but he didn’t like how nervous and stressed out your were. You became a workaholic during this month, spending most of your time working, and doing nothing else.
It didn’t help knowing that it was actually a slow month for Pedro too. He didn’t have anything big, just a couple of interviews and photo shoots here and there. He had a lot of free time, but that wasn’t your case. Pedro was being very nice about it, you had to put with his crazy schedule the rest of the year, he could live with it for you just for a month. It was hard, but manageable. You also made a deal. Next weekend, you were going out. He found a tiny cabin lost in the woods, and thought it would be a good way to disconnect a little. So he rented it for next week.
You hoped you didn’t get the phone call you were actually having. Because even if you knew it was about your project, you didn’t know that they had move your schedule. Instead of having two weeks to finalize everything, and write your report, you only had one. They apparently had to, they had no choice, “corporate took their decision”. Sure. And it had to be you. So now, you had to find a way to tell Pedro that you couldn’t leave next week, because the event was now on Saturday.
He must have sensed it. Probably the way you walked back to the kitchen, the way you were playing with your phone, how you avoid eye contact, and how your mood changed.
“Bad news right?” You nodded. You leaned on the counter behind him, playing with your phone. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore.
“They changed my schedule” now you were staring at him, waiting for any kind of reaction, but nothing. He didn’t realize it was about next weekend. “The event is now next week” he finally turned around, looking at you.
“Are you going to be okay?” You were confused
“I’m a little behind but I think I’ll manage, but- are you?”
“Me? Yeah why?”
“My event. Is next week.. end” he suddenly stared at you
“Next Saturday?”
“Yes”
“And you said yes”
“I didn’t really have the choice”
“Why?”
“Corporate, apparently”
“That’s just some lame excuses. So what’s the real reason?”
“I don’t know that’s what they told me!”
“You didn’t ask?” Pedro was getting really annoyed. His voice got a little bit lower, but louder.
“I tried!”
“I didn’t really hear you try”
“Why are you mad at me? It’s not my fault!”
“You could have said no maybe?”
“Oh yeah so they could fire me and find someone else to do my job?”
“They would not fire you for that”
“Oh yes they would! It’s not acting here, I can’t do whatever I want, there are rules”
“Because there are not in my career?”
“I never said that!” The fight was going nowhere, you were just pissed and saying the first thing coming to your mind. It didn’t really make sense, for the both of you, but you just went with it anyway.
“Can’t you call them back?”
“For what? They chose to move the event one week sooner. I just have to get ready for it”
“But we rented”
“Can’t you call them?”
“What if I don’t want to?” Pedro was getting sassy
“And what if I don’t want to?” You crossed your arms “why do we have to do what you want, never what I want?” Pedro didn’t say anything, you couldn’t stop staring at him. “You know how much I love my job. And he’ll, you’re the one always on the move, working your ass off 24/7, and you don’t hear me complaining! I do it for one month and you can’t deal with it?” That’s when you had enough. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. You let go of your phone and left towards the door.
“Where are you going?” You didn’t say anything. You grabbed your keys, and just left the house. “Y/n wait!” Pedro ran outside, but you were already in your car, leaving the house.
You drove for what seemed forever, not even knowing where you were going. You kind of dissociated the entire time. You finally stopped, feeling thirsty. After buying an iced coffee, you went back to your car, thinking. You and Pedro never really fought. They were some misunderstandings sometimes, some disagreements, but never big fights like that one.
It is true that you never said anything while Pedro was away filming or doing press tour or interviews or whatever. But you realized that’s because he was always calling you, sending you some gifts if he was in another country, or even making you fly to him every time you could. Maybe you needed to find more time for him too, to find a way to prioritize him like he did with you.
While you were away, Pedro was pacing in the house. Feeling a huge amount of guilt. He got scared he pushed you away too much, that it was your last straw, that you were leaving for good. After thinking, he found his reaction childish. So what, you were working a lot for a short amount of time and he couldn’t handle it? After everything you went through for him? The rent was just an excuse. Oh the many times he had to delay dinner, the dates you never had because he had to film longer than expected. Maybe you should wait for y/n’s project to be over before renting anything.
At some point he decided to call you. But after hearing your phone on the counter, he got pissed. The only time you forget to take your phone with you. What if something happens? An accident? Anything! He would not know.
So he grabbed his keys, and decided to go look for you. He first went to your favorite place, a spot he had found outside of town, hoping finding you, but nothing. He then went to your best friend’s house, but they were no cars, so you weren’t there. He went to the planetarium, he remembered how you loved watching stars, and how much you were amused by the animation they had of the planets, but you were nowhere to be found.
He decided to go back home, you could be anywhere, the city was to big to find you. At some point you had to come back, so it would be better to wait at home. Once he was there, again, he couldn’t stop pacing. The sun was setting, and you were still not back. He kept looking at your phone, wishing you had taken it. He also smoked a lot, being extremely anxious.
Finally you came back home, around 8pm, more 9pm actually. Pedro didn’t eat, neither did you. You got tired driving around, the anger had left your body, you were calmer so you decided to come back. You barely entered the house that Pedro ran to you, and hugged you tight.
“Oh thank god you’re back” he whispered. You felt guilty, leaving like that. “I thought something happened, you didn’t have your phone, I looked everywhere for you” you parted. He played with your hair, looking at you anxiously
“I’m sorry, I needed some air, and I got coffee and just kept driving arou- wait you said you looked for me?”
“Yes! I went to your favorite places, but I didn’t find you”
“I’m sorry” you said hugging him again. “I shouldn’t have left like that”
“Yes please do not do that next time. I think we both overreacted on this one, but don’t scare me like that please”
“I’m sorry” you stayed silent for a few seconds. “And you were right I’m sorry”
“No I wasn’t, I’m never here, I work way too much, for once it’s your turn, I should handle it, it’s just that you really need it, and I miss you”
“I’m sorry, I miss you too” you we’re still hugging each other. “But also, I should be able to find time for you, like you always do for me”
“Then it’s settled, no more complaining and more time for us” you looked at each other smiling
“Yes. I love you too much to fight over stupid things like this”
“I couldn’t agree more” he said, caressing your back with his right hand, while the other was on your cheek. Pedro kissed your forehead. “And I love you more” you blushed
“Did you eat?”
“Nope”
“Good. Because I’m starving”
“Do you feel like cooking?”
“Hell no”
“Uber?”
“You read my mind” you both ordered your food, and devoured it in front of a movie on the couch, sitting next to each other.
Sometimes when you’re both worked up it’s hard not to lash out on the first person you see. Guess you both did that to each other. But you felt better, you both did. Releasing this tension.
You spent the evening chilling like that, not thinking about the extremely hard week coming for you, just enjoying your time with your boyfriend, in your own bubble. Nothing else mattered at the moment.
#pedro pascal#fanfic#imagine#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#oneshot#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal preferences#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal request
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Can I request a Pedro dad fic where he coaches his daughters football (soccer) team when she’s a little kid? I always thought that was such a sweet parent child thing, and it’s a very Latino dad thing to do
Best Chilean Soccer Player (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)
A/N: I loved writing this one! I hope you like it! Also, Requests are open to anyone who wants to submit something!
Word Count: 1,358
Pedro watched as you kicked ball across the field, “come on, Y/N!” He cheered as you got closer and closer to the goal, you found yourself trapped between two people. You kicked the ball, quick with your feet you were able to trick them on your next move giving you the advantage. You kicked the ball again and made the goal. “Yes!!” Pedro yelled, “That’s my mija!” He grabbed one of the other coaches shoulders, “That’s my kid!” he yelled.
It didn’t matter to Pedro if it was only a little league game, he grinned from ear to ear as he watched you play. You’re his pride and joy and seeing you score just made him full of pride.
“Mira la!” (Look at her) Pedro gestured towards you as you started to run over to your dad. “Soy muy orgulloso de ti, mija!” (i am so proud of you) He said as he grabbed your face and gave you a kiss on your cheek.
You rolled your eyes, “papi, por fa.” (dad, please)
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!” Pedro exclaimed. He really couldn’t. For the past six years, it had only been you and him, through thick and thin. Pedro was only Twenty-Seven when you were born, your mother gave up her parental rights when you were born and although it was hard on Pedro he did everything he could to make sure you had the happiest life.
Just seeing you thrive and doing something you love made him happy, it made him feel like he finally succeeded in life. You grabbed a juice box from one of the coolers, “Okay, rest up because we’re gonna put back on the field in a bit.”
“Ya me cansé,” you huffed as you sat down on the bench(I’m already tired).
“Lo siento, mija, pero you gotta go back up there,” (I’m sorry, but).
You shook your head, you loved soccer with everything in your being but you were just tired. This was the first goal you scored in weeks and now you were afraid it couldn’t happen again. Pedro sighed, noticing your attitude shifting, he knelt down to your level. “Que te pasa? Hmm?”
“What if I can’t score another goal?”
“Then you won’t score another goal and you’ll try again.”
“But what if-”
“You’ll get up and try again,” Pedro gave you a big smile. “Mija, do you see me give up on my acting?” You shook your head, “Even when I get a no?” You shook your head again, “and why do you think that is?”
“Because your stubborn?”
Pedro laughed, “Maybe,” he placed a small kiss on your forehead before leaning his forehead against yours. “It’s because I try again and do you know why I keep trying?”
“Why?”
“Because its my pasión. Do you know what that means?” You shook your head, “It means I love to do it, there is a fire within me that drives me to continue to do it.”
“I have a fire with soccer,” you grinned.
“I know you do, that’s why you have to get up and try again, no matter if you are tired or sleepy or even hungry, but if you’re hungry papi won’t say no to mcdonalds.��
“Can we have Empanadas instead?”
Pedro couldn’t help but smile, “even better.” Pedro glanced over at the other coaches who gestured for him to get you on the field, “You ready, muñeca?” (Doll).
You handed your juice box to your dad, “Born ready.”
Pedro watched as you ran back onto the field, he cheered as you took the ball, “Let’s go, baby!” He cheered loudly. The other coaches were sure that he was the loudest parent in the field, but Pedro didn’t care and if anything he wanted to be louder. He wanted the whole world to know how proud he was, he would wave banners and write sonnets just to show his pride.
It was crazy for Pedro think how one little person could change everything in his life, even though he wasn’t getting the roles he wished he could, it didn’t matter. Yes, there were times were the roles he got, he felt a sort of insecurity and fear because he didn’t feel like he was doing good enough. But all it took was how happy you looked to see him doing what he loves, you didn’t know but you were his main reason to continue with acting and now he was yours.
“She’s gonna be the best chilean soccer player out there when she grows up,” Pedro stated as he stood beside the other coach.
The other coach chuckled, “Give a couple years, Pedro. Most kids grow out of it, hell, my kid has a new impossible profession every other week.”
Pedro didn’t say anything to the comment, mostly because he didn’t want to argue with someone who didn’t have ambition and also because his opinion didn’t matter. If you decided to change what you wanted to be when you grew up, that was fine by him, he’d still be in sidelines cheering you on. “Not my kid,” Pedro said softly, he watched as you slowly got closer to the goal, “Come on, Y/N! Con Pasión!” He yelled out. Pedro was always unsure if you could hear him yelling, but you always told him that if the world could hear him, then you could too. Pedro yelled out when you made another goal.
“My baby the soccer player!” Pedro yelled as you ran towards him, he lifted you up and spin you around before placing you on his shoulders.
“I want to be the best chilean soccer player when I grow up, Papi!”
“You will be, mija! Trust me," Pedro always believed that you were his blessing in disguise.
~~ Nine Years Later ~~
Your nerves were everywhere, you could hear the crowd roaring from the locker room. The youngest in the team, is what you were mostly known for. At only Fifteen, you were signed onto the U.S. Women’s Soccer League, meaning you were the youngest. At only Fifteen, you proved all those who said you would never make it.
“Knock knock,” You smiled at the voice.
You turned around, “What do you think?” you gestured to your uniform.
Pedro stood there for a second, taking it all in. To him, he saw the little six year old that was scared of not making a goal, but who stood in front of him was a fifteen year old that only knew how to make them.
“Are you gonna cry?” You asked as you noticed your dads eyes get glossy.
“Estoy tan orgulloso de ti, mija. You don’t even know.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you. You taught me to let the pasión drive me to be the best I could,” you walked up towards your dad, you still weren’t as tall as he was, but tippy toed to touch your forehead with his. Over the years, you both grew in your careers. Your dad got bigger roles and you were gaining attention in the Soccer media. No matter how busy your dad was, he made sure to still make it to every game, even if it meant he had to watch it live through his phone and you always made sure to be there for premieres and big interviews. No matter what, you were still his world and even though you were growing up, your dad was like your best friend, “But I better get empanadas after this.”
“Deal, Now get out there and make me prouder than I already am,” He pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head before letting go. “I’ll be in the sidelines-”
“Cheering me on, I know,” You gave him a big smile.
“Hey, Y/N! It’s time to go on the field!” One of your teammates called out as the others began to crowd the lockerroom. Your dad took that as his cue to leave, he gave you a small wave before turning around.
You watched as your dad left the locker room, “The Best Chilean soccer player,” you whispered to yourself.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x daughter#pedro pascal x daughter!reader#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal daughter#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal request#joel tlou
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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃
ㅤㅤwoodshop teacher!joel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni
word count: 2k
summary: there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something he’s undeniably good at.
warnings: semi-public fingering, dirty talk, reader has a small exhibitionism kink, competency kink
a/n: special thanks to the anon who requested this! I enjoyed writing it thoroughly ❤️🔥
There are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching Mr. Miller do something he’s undeniably good at.
The sleeves of his flannel were rolled neatly up to the elbow, exposing his forearms, strong and dusted lightly with sawdust from earlier. You watch intently as Mr. Miller takes the carving tool in his hands, demonstrating how to use it to the class. You’re out of breath. Completely entranced by the way his muscles flex and ripple in his forearms - beautifully defined beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt. Unlike the other students who take in the information in a more appropriate way, all you can focus on is the gathering wetness between your legs.
So much so that you don’t even realize that Mr Miller had instructed the class to start carving. You’re dumbfounded when you suddenly find the man staring right in front of your working bench, staring down at you with an amused gaze.
“Sometin’ wrong with your tools?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks. God. You’re an idiot. You open and close your mouth, he’s so close—close enough that you can breathe in his scent which you identify as pine.
“No—No. Just. . .”
He leans over the bench, his hands landing on the edge, fingers spreading over the smooth surface. Your eyes drop almost by instinct. You see the faint scars littered across his skin.
“Distracted?” he finishes your sentence for you. You meet his gaze, heart beating in your throat, you expect to see an expression showing you that you’ve been caught doing something bad but much to your surprise, you see the lingering traces of worry. “We should talk ‘bout it after class. Sound good?”
Does he really not see the state you’re in? That you’re practically soaked to your core—ready to say yes to anything that comes out of his plush lips. Is he that oblivious to his charm?
“Yeah,” you mutter, grabbing one of the carving tools sprawled out. You wrap your fingers around the material, squeezing it, your thumb faintly caresses the contour. His eyes flicker at the subtle movement. “Sounds good.”
“You gonna tell me what’s going on or are we goin’ to continue to have a stare-down until my next class?”
He’s smiling, however, it does little to calm your raging nerves. It’s been almost ten minutes since class had ended. A class that truly tested the limits of your patience. You barely managed to carve a line, your eyes were fixed on him, his hands, his arms. . . Your mind showed you one image after another, forcing you to think of the answer to questions like: how big is his cock? How fast could he make you come with just his fingers?
Fuck, the thought alone is enough to make you weak in the knees.
“Sorry,” you blurt out, coming closer to the desk. “Today will be the last time, promise.”
He hums as he leans back into the chair, his legs parting. You feel another fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. “Do you know how long you’ve been taking my workshop?”
“Uh. . . three weeks?”
“Good,” he nods. “And can you tell me how many times I caught you just starin’ instead of doin’?”
“A. . . reasonable amount?”
He cocks an eyebrow, “Not a reasonable amount.” When you remain silent, simmering in your own embarrassment, he continues. “It looks like I ain’t the right teacher for you. And I care whether people learn a thing or two in my class so I wrote you down a number.”
He rolls back a bit, opening the drawer, he picks up a card. You’re completely in shock as he stands, handing you the aforementioned card. When you look at it you see the name Tommy Miller written on it along with a phone number.
“That’s my brother,” he explains. “He has a different approach than I do. Younger too, which may benefit you.”
“I. . . what? Are—Are you kicking me out of your class?”
You can’t help the quiver that accompanies your question. You’re an idiot. A huge idiot. You made him think that he’s no good in teaching which couldn’t be further from the truth. Still in shock, you stare down at the card and back up to him. He seems just as surprised as you are.
“No, no, I ain’t kickin’ you out. I just. . . I thought this would help. I didn’t mean to. . .”
“It’s your hands—” you finally snap, taking him by surprise. Your brain is screaming at you to shut up but you can’t. Not knowing what else to do, you cover your face with both hands, breathing heavily into your palms. Your wood carving career is over. “You just—shit—you just look so good doing what you do and it’s been so long since—well, it’s just really distracting,” you feel the card with his brother’s number slip through your fingers, he’s not saying anything. Fuck. “That’s why I was. . . distracted. It has nothing to do with you or your teaching style. You’re great.”
You should let yourself out now. You really should.
“You think I look good?” The quip catches you off guard and you dare to lower your hands. He’s smiling again, beaming actually, he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. You blink.
“You really didn’t know?”
“Nope,” he looks down sheepishly. “I ain’t good at readin’ signs and it’s been long for me too.”
He takes a step closer, pushing you back until the edge of the desk is biting into your flesh. Your breath stutters. He cages you in, muscular arms on both sides of your hips. He tilts his head and kisses your cheek. You close your eyes at the brush of his lips. His hands toy with the zipper of your jeans. “Tell me what you were thinkin’ durin’ class and maybe I’ll give you a gold star.”
“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, rolling your hips forward. He grins against your skin. “I. . .I thought about your hands and how they would feel like. I also thought about—”
You cut yourself off. He prompts you to continue by lowering the zipper. “You also thought about what?” he murmurs. “Don’t be a bad girl now. I know you wanna be good for me.”
You do. You really fucking do.
“I thought about how big your cock might be,” you gasp. “I thought about how good it would feel to have you inside me.”
Mr Miller takes your hand and brings it to the rather impressive bulge between his legs. Your body warms as you cup him gingerly. Despite the soft touch, his eyes still roll back. “Why don’t you tell me how big I am?” he murmurs, thrusting into your palm. Fuck, he feels huge underneath the denim.
“Really big,” you answer, stroking him. “You’re huge Mr Miller—”
“Joel,” he groans. “Call me Joel.”
“Joel,” you moan. “Joel. Are you going to fuck me with this big cock of yours?”
He chuckles, “Sadly no. We can’t now but. . .” You shudder at the feeling of his teeth nipping at your chin. He pushes back your hand and swiftly tugs down your pants. “I’ll give you my fingers, sweetheart. Want to feel you creamin’ around them.”
You tremble at his touch. Two thick fingers moving between your dripping lips, spreading them, teasing your entrance. Your breath hitches as he swirls the pads of his fingers around your clit. You melt against him, forehead falling to the front of his shoulder as he circles, circles and circles them. Your slick coats his fingers, trickles down his wrist. Those skillful hands now a mess.
“You weren’t kiddin’,” he says into your hair. “You’re fuckin’ soaked for me.”
“For you,” you agree, grinding your hips. “Give them to me. Please please please—”
“Shhhhhh keep quiet or I’m gonna have to spank ya—” A wanton moan rips from your throat and you pulse, a gush of liquid drenching you both. The sounds that come out of you are obscene. “You like that huh?”
You nod desperately. His chest trembles as he lets out a low chuckle. “So honest. ‘Guess you deserve a reward.”
His fingers slide into you with ease, two of them sliding in and out, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit every time he plunges them deep inside. “Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, scissoring his fingers. “How are you this worked up? How the fuck are you so wet? Shit sweetheart—”
You know. You know how wet you are. He thrusts his fingers knuckle deep, curling them, liquid heat drips down your spine, every muscle tensing with the promise of release. The sounds of him fucking you fills the workshop. The door is unlocked, you know this, there was no reason for either of you to think of locking it before. The thought of people seeing, someone watching—
Your head falls back as a whimper slips from your lips, his eyes find your own, dark with arousal. His thumb rubs at your clit. “Tell me,” he orders.
“You have class soon,” you oblige, the thought making you clench. His brows furrow.
“Yeah?”
“People might see,” you add, just a hint of a teasing lilt in your voice. Your tone goes completely over Joel’s head, the tease prompting his fingers to still. Your groan in frustration, hips desperately jerking for the friction to continue.
“You wanna stop?”
“No, Joel. I. . .” Oh god, you can’t word it out. It’s making you flustered. “It’s kinda hot. . . that people might see.”
“Oh,” he blinks then a second later his lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Oh.”
And when he understands where you’re coming from—all hell breaks loose.
Joel pushes you up the desk, nestling himself between your legs, your muscles left trembling at the stretch. He slips in another finger, fucking you thoroughly with three of them. Your jaw goes slack, your body burning from the inside out. You try to bite back the sounds but it’s hard when you’re left so exposed. It feels good—it feel amazing. You’re stammering over your words, somewhere between wanting to beg him and wanting to tell him how mind-numbingly beautiful this feels. His fingers stroke your deepest parts, applying pressure on just the right spot.
“If you can’t handle this there’s no way you can take my cock, honey.” Your breasts feel heavy and full, nipple going hard at the gravel in his voice. You want to touch him so bad, have his cock in your mouth, worship him with your entire body. “Come on, sweetheart, let me feel how good your pussy feels when you come. Fuckin’ make a mess of the desk. I’ll just fuckin’ make a new one and you can soak that one too—”
You’re chanting his name with hushed whispers, over and over. A familiar heat and tingle settles in your stomach, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, it doesn’t take you long after that. He keeps moaning about how good you’re feeling, about how he’ll be thinking about your perfect wet pussy when the next class starts. It’s all too much. Unbearable.
“Look at me,” he growls and you barely hear him. He slips his fingers into the knots of your hair and yanks your head back. Your eyelids flutter as you stare directly at him. He bares his teeth. “Fuckin’ come for me.”
Your jaw drops, all care about keeping silent floating from your head as the most guttural moan rips from your throat. It’s so intense that you can physically feel yourself creaming around him, the slick at base of his finger a shade darker. “Atta girl,” he keeps saying into your mouth, over and over. You’re still coming, your insides left throbbing and raw.
The two of you stay like that for a while. His fingers still knuckle deep, panting heavily, both your bodies glistening with sweat. His forehead falls against yours and you sigh happily, a smile touching your lips.
You expect him to kiss you but he doesn’t, it almost feels like he’s holding himself back. Instead, he brushes your lips together, expression almost painful.
“You got any plans for tonight?”
You shake your head.
“Can I take you to dinner?”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic#the last of us fanfic#tlou fanfic#joel miller au#requests
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Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷♀️😭
Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅
Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤
Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader
Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting
W/C: 1.9k
Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.
What Matters
“Are you sure, baby?”
Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure.
“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily.
You’re both lying in his bed, half-naked. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.
Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him.
But what if he can’t?
You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes?
It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be.
But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now.
“Joel?”
His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore.
“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it.
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right.
You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes.
He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself.
“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes.
His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year.
It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself.
“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you.
“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.”
You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you?
Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts.
“You feel so good,” you whine.
“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.
He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure.
“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.
But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him.
He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry, baby, I—”
“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—”
You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face.
You love him. You said it. And he believes you.
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters.
Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin.
“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him.
He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back.
He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back.
It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm.
By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time.
You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now.
You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.
It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat.
“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained.
“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.
And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria.
When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts.
*****
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