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absurdthirst · 9 months

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Finding the Right Note {Country Star!Jack Daniels x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: Jack Daniel is a flirt, vaginal sex, angst, derogatory name calling, misplaced anger, mentions of alcoholism, groveling, face slapping, mentions of pregnancy

Comments: Country music star Jack Daniels strides into the bar you are performing in. Looking for an opening act for his upcoming tour, he decides you are just what he wants. Until your star might outshine his.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Agent Whiskey MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Jack walks into the bar, it’s bustling for a Wednesday night and he’s desperate for a drink after such a long day. His record label is giving him shit for not booking an opening act just yet. He hasn’t found the right one and he’s pushing them by delaying but damn, he’s been in the industry long enough to get the final say on who opens for him. He saddles up to the bar and orders a whiskey, thanking the bartender and once he’s got his drink, the crowd starts to cheer as the stage lights go off. It’s loud for a few moments until you walk out on stage.

You exhale shakily, always nervous before you take the stage, but once you start to sing, the nerves fade away. You smile at the crowd as the music starts and you begin your set.

She’s a fucking angel. Glass halfway to his lips, Jack stops, turning from the bar to stare at the stage behind him. It’s soulful and passionate. Fun and flirty once the hook drops and the beat turns up. Jack’s eyes flutter around the crowd and he nods, watching them get into the act. She’s perfect. Turning back to the bartender. “Who’s up on stage?” He asks. “What’s her name?”

The bartender gives your name and Jack turns his attention back to you. You sway your hips as you sing, putting your all into the music. Your passion is clear and you love this gig. The owner had heard you busking on the street and offered you the job as the singer for his bar. It’s a great gig, good pay, but it’s not what you want. You want to make music, tour the world, and let people hear your songs. It hasn’t happened yet, even after sending your demos in to every record company but no luck yet. You don’t notice the famous country singer sitting at the bar watching you with rapture as you continue singing.

Jack watches your performance with an excitement that he’s not felt in years. His whiskey all but forgotten as he starts to sing along to the chorus the second time around. Your energy is unmatched and he can tell you want to glide around the small stage if you had enough room. You’d be magnificent on a big stage. Your last line is belted out, giving it everything you have and it’s perfect, making you grin when the last note of the song hits and you wave your hand holding the pick up. “Give it up for the band!”

Your set seems to fly by as you sing your heart out and you saddle up to the bar once you’ve finished, gesturing for the bartender to get you your usual. “It’s on my tab.” Jack says as he sits beside you and you turn to face him.

“Thank you. Wait…aren’t you- what are you doing in a place like this?” You ask him with a chuckle.

Jack shrugs slightly and his fingers slide around his own glass. “Was plannin’ on getting drunk, but now I’m thinkin’ about business.” He admits. “How long you been tryin’ to break out?” He asks as the bartender comes over and slides your drink in front of you.

You blow out a breath, shaking your head, “way too long. Could’ve recorded enough material for three or four albums by now but it’s hard to get big in a town full of singers.” You chuckle and pick up your drink, lifting it towards Jack. “To music.” You toast and Jack clinks his glass against yours.

“To music.” Jack takes a sip of his whiskey and takes a hard look at you. You don’t look like the typical worn out ‘trying to make it big’ country singer. Where up close the evidence of hard partying and too much alcohol is evident. “Got something I can listen to?” He asks, wanting to hear the quality of your studio session in addition to the live performance he just witnessed.

You nod, taking your phone out, and you know it’s something else for you to be asking him to listen to your music but when he’s asking you, you’re not gonna turn him down. You select what you think is your best song and hand him the phone to listen to it.

The noise in the bar is loud, but not loud enough that he can’t hear the pure potential in the music. The notes shine through clearly and he can hear the enthusiasm in your voice.

The noise in the bar is loud, but not enough that he can’t hear the pure potential in the music. The notes shine through clearly and he can hear the enthusiasm in your voice.

“Can you send me that?” He asks as he hands you back the phone. “I want to send that to my manager.”

Your mouth falls open but you won’t turn him down. You hand the phone to him to put his number in, shocked that Jack Daniels wants your demo. You hit send and you shake your head, a chuckle escaping your lips. “I- I can’t believe you’re here and you want my music.”

“Lookin’ for an opening act for my upcoming tour.” Jack tells you, smirking at the way your mouth drops open in shock. “Haven’t found anyone I liked until now.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “you’re shittin’ me.” You ask and his chuckle warms you, “I ain’t shittin’ you baby. I wanna have you open my show.” He tells you and you shake your head, “if you want me, I’m yours.”

“You’re gonna have to play for my people.” Jack tosses back the rest of his drink and grins at you. “You ready for that?”

You nod, “I’ll do it. You tell me the time and place.” You tell him and he throws some cash down to pay for his drink. “I’ll wait for the call.” You wink and sip your drink, heart pounding as you think of what this could lead to.

For the first time in a long time, Jack doesn’t have a second drink. Instead he’s sending the song to his manager and typing out a text telling him that he’s found his opening act. When he sends it off he smirks at you. “Your entire world’s about to change, sugar.”

****

True to his word, you got a call the next day about opening for Jack Daniels and a few weeks later, you sublet your apartment and put your things in storage. Packing your clothes for the tour and your guitar, you are excited, practically buzzing and the first stop is Atlanta. A big city and a big arena for the biggest star in country right now. You’re checked into your hotel and whisked over to the venue for the sound check before Jack arrivals. Little do you know he’s already arrived when you’re finishing your sound check until you hear his applause. “Damn good song, little lady.” He praises and you fluster, glancing around at the crew. “Thank you. I- I wrote that one when I was eighteen and thinking the world would treat me right.”

Jack grins, propping his hands on his hips. “It’s funny how that happens, ain’t it?” He’s got his own share of problems, that is well documented in all the articles written about him. “I think that song might be the best damn thing I’ve heard for a long time.”

You fluster and duck your head, “you flatter me, Daniels. Says the five time Grammy award winner.” You scoff softly and shake your head as you fiddle with the strings of your guitar. “First big show of the tour. You ready?” You ask him as you hand the guitar off to the stage hand.

“I am.” Jack nods, smirking slightly. “Nothing like bein’ on the road. The crowds, the tour buses, the after parties.” He chuckles and waggles his brows.

You have heard rumors about his after parties. They go hard and you’re not sure you want to get involved in them every night. You’re here to get your career started and he’s one of the biggest stars in the world. You need to focus…especially when he turns those gorgeous brown eyes on you. You make your way off of the stage to give him the time to sound check and you come face to face with him when he meets you halfway.

“You ready?” He turns the question on you and you nod, “fucking nervous but I’m ready.” His chuckle warms you and you know that’s dangerous, especially when he leans in closer to whisper in your ear.

“You’re gonna be a fucking star, baby.” He promises and leans back.

Your heart pounds as you stare at him and the stage manager calls out, “Jack, time to check your mics.”

Jack winks at you, “see you later, sugar,” and he walks past you to make his way out onto the stage.

Jack’s sound check is more of a formality than anything else but he does run through one of the newer songs on his recently released album. Just to make sure that it sounds okay since it’s the first time being played in a stadium. He sees you watching him and shows off for good measure, just to let you know that he’s still got it in him. When he’s done, he walks over to you and the roadie hands him his standard whiskey over ice. “Whatcha think? Sound okay?”

You nod, eying the drink in his hand but who are you to judge? Everyone has their pre-show routines. “Your fans are gonna love it. Your new album…it’s fantastic. I’m excited to see the great Jack Daniels perform.” You smirk and cross your arms, “you got any tips?”

“Don’t show your underwear, and never let a fan come up on stage without you inviting them.” He tells you seriously before taking a sip. “Had one fan grope me and then turn around and sue me for “emotional manipulation”. Said I led her on because I was obviously singing to her in my songs and then publicly spurned her.”

You wince, “your fans are crazy.” You shake your head, having heard about his “Jack Pack” fan club. You sigh, “I doubt my popularity will lead to fans that crazy. It just shows how damn famous you are.” You tease him softly and he snorts, looking down at his drink. “It’s a blessin’ and a curse.” You can understand that. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you before the show. I better go get something to eat and glam myself up.”

“Don’t do too much more than you are now.” Jack tells you with a wink. “Otherwise you’re libel to upstage the main headliner.” You’re gorgeous and with your upbeat smile and excitement, the crowd is going to eat you up. Jack Daniels has done found himself the next country music star.

****

Your adrenaline is high once you come off of stage, your body buzzing as you grab the water you have waiting for you and Jack is standing there, his hands still clapping your performance. “Oh my God.” You gasp after downing the bottle. “That was - wow.”

“How’s it feel knowing you just played your first of many shows?” Jack demands, beaming at your breathless laughter and joy. He remembers that exhilaration, even though it had long since faded into the worry that he was washed up. Past his prime, despite his people saying that wasn’t the case. They were going to milk him until his teat was dry and move on to someone else.

You shake your head in amazement, “incredible. I- I never imagined - thank you.” You surge forward to wrap your arms around him, hugging him close. “I owe you everything.” You tell him and he chuckles, rubbing your back, “just make me proud.” He says and you nod, stepping back. Soon enough, he’s making his way onto stage, the crowd roaring and you watch him from the side of the sound desk, in awe of his talent.

Jack might have a little more oomph in his performance. He tells himself it’s because it’s the kickoff of another tour, that he’s energetic because of that and not because he’s sure you are watching his performance. Showing off for you for over two hours, the crowd roars as the lights dim and he walks off stage to cheers of demands for him to do an encore. He’s sweaty and red faced as he strides up to you and takes your water to drink, sending you a wink before he downs it.

Your mouth goes dry, wishing you had the water he just finished, and your stomach twists with attraction to him. His wink and the sweat coating him has you aching for him but you know you can’t fuck this opportunity up. It’s important and can make your career. Fucking Jack Daniels will be short lived. A career in music could be the rest of your life. The roar of the crowd is deafening as he finishes his encore and you watch him come off of the stage, taking the towel from the stage hand.

After the concert, Jack has his meet and greets. VIP guests who have paid a lot of money to see him, but he also goes out to sign autographs for those that waited for him. Taking time to appreciate his fans and when he spots you, he motions you over. “Ya’ll want her signature too.” He tells them with a grin. “She’s gonna blow up and you can say you met her first!”

You fluster and some fans take his word and you sign their papers. You are soon escorted by Jack’s security to the bus and you are shuffled onto the bus with a sweaty Jack. His band applauds and you follow suit, exhausted but on top of the world as the bus starts to move to the next city.

“So, how was the first show?” Jack demands, pouring both of you a drink rather than jumping in the shower like he knows he should. You have a bus, but he had them put you on his for tonight so you could get to know one another better. If you say no, there’s another bed to sleep on. He hands you the glass and clinks his against it. “To fame and fortune.”

You take a sip of the whiskey, leaning back to look at Jack as he throws his arm over the back of the sofa he’s sitting on as the bus starts to move. “To your fame and fortune.” You counter and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yours too, sugar. Tonight was the first night of the rest of your career.”

You smile softly, setting your drink down. “I hope so. Tonight was…it was exhilarating. The high you get off of it - I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow.”

“Nothing like it, is there?” He chuckles and sets his drink down. Leaning in and watching your eyes widen slightly. “I’ve only found one way to really burn off this energy.”

You swallow harshly as he leans a little closer, your eyes dropping down to his lips as he licks them clean of the remnants of whiskey. You bite your lip, leaning back a little to catch your breath. “What’s that?” You ask, hating how breathy you sound as your heart thumps. Your attraction to him rearing its head again.

“Find the prettiest girl I can, take her to bed and make her forget everything but screamin’ my name.” It’s not every night but often enough that he didn’t want to count bodies. But right now, his eyes are on you.

His words and his dark gaze makes you shiver and your eyes flit over to the kitchenette before you glance back at him. “You didn’t find the prettiest girl tonight to take to bed…you’re here with me?” You question, hoping you are predicting his answer correctly but this allows you an exit strategy if you’re wrong about the lust in his eyes.

“Oh but I did find the prettiest girl.” He argues, stepping closer. “Now I know that I’m sweaty, sugar, but I can shower before I get sweaty again.” He offers. Knowing that some wouldn’t like it but he feels like he is going to be taken like he is with you. Especially since you are musky from your own set.

You bite your lip, reminding yourself again of your promise to not fuck this opportunity up, especially with sex, but he’s standing there with that ridiculously sexy smirk and your resolve crumbles. You step towards him, your fingers playing with the buttons of this shirt. “Seeing as we are sharing this bus, I think the best thing to do is to shower together. However, it’s very small in the shower so you’d have to press up against me…is that something you’d be okay with?”

“Baby, I’d love nothing more than to press against you and keep pressing against you until I hear how my name sounds coming from your pretty lips.” He wraps his hand around your neck and drags you close to kiss you.

You let him drag you against him, your lips pressing against his and your hands slide up to grip the collar of his shirt. His tongue quickly slides along your lower lip and you grant him the access he seeks. Jack’s free hand caresses your waist and slides down to squeeze your ass, making you moan. Your back is soon pressed against the counter of the kitchenette and you know it’s worth the risk. Just this kiss is worth risking it all.

Jack groans into your mouth, finding it even sexier that you are matching him for passion. It’s not one sided where Jack is once again putting on a performance for someone while they melt in surprise. Your own fingers roam over his body until you are starting to unbutton his shirt and slide it off of him.

You caress his chest, sticky with dried sweat but you love it. You slide your tongue against his and his hands reach for the hem of your dress, helping you shift to pull it off of you, exposing your tits and lace underwear to his dark gaze. “Jack.” You whimper when he kisses along your throat.

“You wanna shower, sugar?” Jack asks, knowing the driver won’t be coming back to where you are and you’re the only two on the bus. Jack has a rule about not bothering him unless he invites someone on. Needing the time to unwind. His hands dip under your panties to pull them the down around your thighs.

His hands caress your thighs and you’re not sure you can wait to shower and clean off. He’s too intoxicating and you whimper when his fingers slide between your folds. “Shower after.” You decide, reaching down to squeeze him through his jeans, the obnoxiously large belt buckle hindering your touch.

Jack groans, smirking when he does. “I like the way you think. I want to see if you are as tight as I imagined you would be.” He groans again when you manage to get his buckle undone. “We’ll have our own private show.”

You reach in to pull his cock out of his tight jeans and you groan at the thickness of him. “Shit, Jack. You - that’s gonna be a stretch. It’s - it’s been a while.” You admit and let go of him so you can spit in your palm, gripping him again and starting to pump his length.

“That’s a good thing, ain’t it?” He groans, cock twitching in your hand and he doesn’t want to admit how long it’s been for him. He’s fucked plenty, but when he’s not on tour or in the studio, it’s a different story. “You want to see my bus bedroom?” He asks, unclipping your bra and pulling it off your tits so he can palm them.

You arch into his touch, your fingers squeezing his cock, and you moan when he pinches your nipples. “Yes. Show me.” You plead, letting go of him so he can escort you to the bedroom.

You run into several things, a counter, a door frame. Jack guiding you back while trying to kiss you. Eager to see you spread out on his bed. Your own fingers working on his shirt and dragging it over his shoulders.

You manage to get his shirt off just as you are laying down on his bed and you drag him down on top of you. “Come on baby. Fuck me.” You beg, the adrenaline still pulsing inside of you. “You have a condom?” You ask breathlessly.

“I do.” Jack reaches for the small built in shelf and pops the door open. Fumbling around inside for one of the many foil packets stashed there. “No warm up? Just straight to riding?”

You whimper when his fingers find your clit, “yes. Let me - I want to ride you.” You push on his chest, wanting to feel him inside of you. You don’t care about foreplay, you want the stretch. You want to feel something, you want to feel all of him. “Baby, let me ride you. Come on cowboy.”

Shucking his boots and jeans comes with a few curses and giggles but he is finally flat on his back with his cock curled up against his stomach, “come on, sugar.” He growls, reaching for your hip. “Put the condom on me and take me for a ride.”

You nod, slithering up his body to straddle his thighs and you rip open the condom. You roll it down his length and squeeze his cock. Shifting closer to line yourself up with his length, biting your lip as you start to sink down onto him.

“That’s it sugar, that’s it.” Jack pants. “Holy fuck you are as tight as a small glove on a giants hand.” His toes curl and his back arches slightly when you squeeze him inside the warmth of your velvet walls. “Holy fuck, holy shit girl.”

His words take your breath away and you gasp as you slowly sink down on him. A few moments later, you have his cock fully inside of you and you don’t move, closing your eyes for a few moments to collect yourself. “Shit. You are stretching me out, Daniels.” You declare as you caress his chest, giving you another moment until you lift your hips, starting to move on top of him.

He loves that you get right to it. Soon your hips are rolling and his own are struggling to stay put on the bed. The squeaks are covered by the sounds of the bus rolling down the road and he groans your name.

Hearing him moan your name has your body shaking. Your nails scratch his chest as you ride his cock, rolling your hips and grinding down onto him. “Fuck, Jack. You feel so good. So damn good.” You pant.

“You gonna cum?” Jack slides his hand down to cover your stomach and his thumb finds your clit. Rubbing harshly in a tight pattern to match the roll of your hips. “Gonna soak ‘ol Jack?”

You nod, shifting to lean back, your hands on his knees as you find the angle that has you tossing your head back. His thumb rubbing your clit as you grind down onto him. “Gonna cum. Gonna - fuck.” You cry out, clamping down on him and you squeeze your eyes shut as your mouth falls open.

Jack hisses, his eyes nearly rolling back at how good you feel around his cock. His thumb keeps pressing, keeps rolling and he makes sure that he bucks his hips up harshly enough to move you as you cum.

His thumb becomes too much and you reach down to grab his hand, bringing it to your chest so he can feel your thumping heart. You still for a moment, just relishing the moment and the haze of your orgasm. “Fuck, I want more.” You tell him, reaching for his hand to balance yourself so you can start to ride him again.

Jack chuckles. “Like a girl who knows what she needs.” He moans when your hand squeezes his and he watches your tits bounce. “Fuck, look at you, thought about this the entire time you were up on stage.”

To hear him say that has your pussy clenching around him, and you bend down to press your lips against his, changing the angle. “Thought about this while you were on stage. So fucking sexy. Strutting around like you owned the fucking arena. Those women screaming your name but it’s me who you wanted to ride you.” You murmur against his jaw.

“Fuck yes, I wanted you to ride me.” He groans against and slaps your ass, turning his head to capture your lips with his own again. Needing to kiss you, to slide his tongue against yours. Hoping that he can last long enough for you to cum again.

The angle you are rocking back onto his cock in has his coarse hair rubbing against your clit and it’s enough to have you panting into his mouth. “Fuck baby. So good. Feel so good.” You whine against his jaw before you kiss him again, so close to another orgasm. When he shifts to brace his feet on the bed, his cock pushing deeper inside of you as he rocks his hips up, you fall apart again. Clamping down on his cock and soaking his length as you squeal into his mouth.

Jack groans, holding your hips tight as he rocks up into you. “Fuck baby, that’s it, cream all over Jack’s cock.” He pants. “Knew you’d do so good for me. Every man there wanted to fuck you but I’m the one buried balls deep, about to explode.” He chokes out a cry a few sharp thrusts later and grinds as deep as he can. Holding still and grunting as ropes of cum spill into the condom.

You slump against him, enjoying the way he groans your name, his cock twitching inside of you. “Fuck, that’s good. So good.” You murmur, kissing along his neck, and you reach up to brush his damp hair out of his face. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” You tease breathlessly.

You slump against him, enjoying the way he groans your name, his cock twitching inside of you. “I don’t mind showering together. We have seen each other naked. Washing isn’t much to worry about now.” You chuckle softly and enjoy the way he caresses your back. “Plus I can’t get on the other bus.” You smirk and you caress him one last time before you shift off of him, gripping the base of his cock to make sure the condom doesn’t come off.

“Nope.” He chuckles quietly and sits up. “Although if you don’t like the idea of sharin’ a bed, there’s another you can sleep in.” He won’t make you share a bed with him if you don’t want. You might want to decompress.

You nod, “I get the feeling you aren’t one for sleeping all night and I need to be on top of my game if I am to make the most of the opportunity you’ve given me. I’ll sleep in the other bed but come on, let’s shower.” You shift off of the bed and make your way to the tiny bathroom, turning on the water and stepping into the cubicle while Jack deals with the condom.

Jack ties the condom and tosses it in the wastebasket, deciding not to do his normal routine in dealing with it. He joins you and grins as he steps into the spray with you. “Best thing after a concert is a hot shower.”

You tilt your head back under the hot water, closing your eyes as you let the water flow over you, reaching for the body wash but Jack soon snatches it out of your hand so he can begin to wash you. “What a gentleman.” You coo, liking the feel of his hands on your body.

“Easiest way to learn a woman.” Jack hums against your neck, sliding his soapy hands down your stomach and back up over your breasts. He squeezes your tits playfully. “What do you think?”

You let him clean you up, his touch playful and you realize that this is going to be a regular occurrence. You won’t be able to forget this so you’ve already accepted that you’ll be back in his bed tomorrow or the night after. “It’s fucking perfect.” You grin, leaning against him. From singing in a bar to opening for Jack Daniels…you know your life is just starting.

****

“Are you serious?” You gasp, unable to play it cool as you listen to your new manager. “Yes. Tell them yes.” You squeal and your manager chuckles, promising he will deliver the message. You hang up just as Jack rounds the corner of the diner you’ve stopped off in on your way to Houston. His hands immediately find your waist now that no one is looking and you are alone. You shove your phone into your jeans and reach up to cup his cheeks. “Guess what I just had a call about?” You ask him and he chuckles, “good news I take it?” You nod, “the best news. The label wants an album. My EP did really freaking well and they want an entire album.” You squeal and lean in to press your lips against Jack’s.

You’re not sure what you are right now, friends that sleep together? You’ve been on tour for three months now and you’ve spent nearly every night on Jack’s bus, having sex and talking and playing music. You’ve never slept in the same bed together but you’ve grown close.

“That’s fantastic, sugar.” Jack grins and wraps his arms around you to spin you around. Chuckling when you squeal happily and kiss him again. “You’re gonna kill it. Just make sure you don’t let them push you to puttin’ too many love songs on the album. You don’t wanna get pigeonholed.”

You nod, knowing you have enough material for two or three albums so it will be a mixture. “Hard to write love songs when you’ve never been in love.” You reveal and Jack frowns, “you’ve never been in love?” You shake your head, “guess I’ve kept my heart under lock and key.” You murmur, squeezing his hand to step away from him. Jack lets you go, wondering what it would take for you to fall in love. “I gotta go figure out the tracklist and - I - God, there’s so much to do.” You murmur and step away from Jack so you can start to think. His frown deepens when you rush off, making his stomach twist with unknown emotion.

****

The crowd roars as Jack comes off of the stage and he’s immediately taking his whiskey from the stage hand and he strides over to you. His heart pounding and you let him take your hand to drag you towards his dressing room. “Jack? Jack? Everything okay?” You ask but he’s shutting the door behind him, downing the whiskey and then his lips are on yours.

His tongue is insistent, demanding when he kisses you. It’s not playful like before. There’s a roughness behind it that he doesn’t want to analyze too closely. You’ve already signed your autographs and he needs to as well but he’s noticed that a larger portion of the crowd is wearing shirts with your face on it. The same face he is gripping in his hand now while his other hand is starting to rip open his jeans.

You whimper when his hands shove your dress up, his cock hard and throbbing in your palm as you reach down to grip him. “Baby. Oh shit.” You moan when his fingers dig into your ass, pulling you up against him and you let him guide you over to the vanity, lifting you onto it and you eagerly spread your legs for him. “Fuck me.” You plead, needing him as the adrenaline surges through you.

Condoms are a thing of the past. Both of you have been tested and Jack hadn’t taken anyone else to bed since the very first night. Not even when you had been gone to finalize your album for a few shows where his buddy opened for him. Now though, he’s ravenous for you. Quickly pushing your panties to the side, he notches his cock and pushes deep.

You gasp when he pushes into you, making you whine in pleasure and you grip his shoulders, pulling him close so you can press your lips against his. “Fuck. I’ve missed this.” You cry and wrap your legs around his waist when he starts to move inside of you.

“Shit.” Jack groans, pressing his lips to yours just as desperately. His fingers dig into your hips and he doesn’t even hesitate, pulling his hips back to slam back into you harshly. “Missed you, missed this.” He grunts, biting your bottom lip and tugging on it.

You moan into his mouth, your heels digging into his ass as he starts to fuck you hard and fast. “Jack. Missed - oh shit - missed this too.” You whine, loving the harsh pace and desperation. The adrenaline running through both of you.

His hips slap against your thighs and he groans into your mouth. Desperate to claim you, to mark you as his, even though he has no claim on you. “Fuck, fuck, missed this tight little cunt squeezing me tight.” He huffs. “Just what I need.”

His lips kiss along your neck and you’re certain he is going to bite you but you can’t let him do that when you are supposed to have a photographer from Rolling Stone come and meet you tomorrow. You tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him back, “can’t mark me baby.” You tell him and he grunts but concedes, kissing you once more. You’re close, always are when it comes to him, and you swear it’s something in his kiss, in his touch, that makes you feel electric. “Come on baby, I need - need -“ You reach between you to rub your clit, anxious to feel that bliss you’ve been denied with his absence from your life.

Jack groans, looking down to watch you rub your clit. It’s so sexy how you prioritize your pleasure. “You gonna cum for me?” He demands, the slick sounds of his cock moving fills the air between you. “Gonna soak my cock, sugar? You feel so desperate for it.”

Part of you wants to taunt him, tell him you are doing this because he can’t but the other side of you wants to submit to him, to tell him only he can make you feel like this. “Baby, oh fuck. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - shitttt.” You hiss, clamping down on his cock as you cry out, loving how good he feels pushing deep inside of you.

Hissing at how tight you get, Jacks thrusts get sloppy, determine to fuck you through it but he’s so fucking close to cumming himself. “That’s it baby girl, cum all over me. Fuck I love that.” He groans.

Your head hits the mirror and you watch him through hazy eyes as he starts to cum. You love it, the way his jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck tighten. You caress his neck, watching him as he thrusts a half dozen more times until he’s burying himself inside of you, painting your walls. “Yes, Jack. That’s it baby. God, you always feel so good.”

You kiss him again, dragging him back into you as you savor the feel of him until it’s time to pull back. He has meet and greets and you have to speak to your team. Jack’s tour is coming to an end soon and your label want you to start promoting your album.

Jack nudges his nose against yours and grins. “You gonna stay on my bus tonight?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. You’ve spent every night on his bus. All your lounging clothes are there in a few drawers he had made room for.

“Yeah. Of course.” You murmur, knowing it’s not even a question at this point. You really have missed him during the shows you’ve been gone, and tonight, you want more. “I want…I want to sleep in your bed.” You tell him, hoping he understands the step you are taking.

Jack hums, grinning as he wraps his arms around you. “Sugar, I promise I won’t hog the covers or snore in your ear.”

“You better not, Daniels, otherwise I will go back to my own bed.” You tease, leaning in to kiss his jaw. He hums and you lean back to pat his chest. “You’d better clean up for those meet and greets. See you in a bit, cowboy.” You wink and he groans as he pulls out of you, letting you know how excited he is to meet his fans.

****

Jack tosses back another show of whiskey and slams it down on the counter, his mood sour and he hates that this is the last tour. This will probably be the end of his career. Despite the numbers, the label was deciding they wanted to hold off on making another album. He can see the writing on the wall, he’s old news. Washed up and while his career is ending, it seems like yours is taking off.

You frown when you find Jack sitting at the bar backstage. It’s the last show of the tour and you need to talk to Jack. “Hey baby.” You rub his back, knowing he’s preparing for his time on stage and you sit down beside him. “Are you doing okay?” You ask and he snorts, tapping his fingers on the counter.

“Yeah. Just mourning the last show of my career.” He says and you frown, “last show? Says who?” You ask and he shakes his head, “everyone. They love you. They adore you and I’m-“

You reach for his hand, “loved and adored. By your fans, by the country music community…by me.” You reveal, biting your lip as you stare at him.

Jack mistakes the adoration in your eyes from pity, shaking his head and sighing. “Naw, it ain’t in the cards for me.” He draws and reaches for the bottle of whiskey again, pulling his hand out of yours. “I’m gonna fade into the night and you will be a rising star.”

Your frown deepens at his self pity, his fate seemingly sealed by his own depression. “You are a star, you’ve opened the CMAs more times than I can count. You have won Grammys and shit - you’ve won sexiest man of the year twice. I have an EP and the label…they want me to - to go out on my own. They have lined up a few shows for me to play, get the momentum going. I am barely a mention, you are the star.” You tell him, caressing his arm, “they love you…I love you.”

“Fuck.” Jack knows that you will go on and become a huge star, and he will just be dead weight. Dragging you down and preventing you from reaching your potential. “You did it, congratulations.” He sneers sarcastically. Raising his glass in a mock salute and tossing back another belt of whiskey. “You got what you want.”

His snarky tone is one you’ve never heard before. “Got what I want…Jack. I- I was singing in a bar and you gave me this opportunity. I owe you everything but do not mistake my success for your opportunity. I am a great songwriter, a great singer. I got the contract on my own talent. You gave me a step onto the ladder but I climbed it by myself. You can sit there and wallow, drown yourself in whiskey, and what will that get you? Nothing. Maybe you are washed up but it’s from your own doing.”

“My opportunity?” Jack leaps to his feet, a scowl twisting his features into an ugly set of his normally handsome face. “Sugar, I don’t need anything from a whore who climbed into my bed.” He regrets the words the second they come out of his mouth, but he doesn’t retract them. “Get out of my goddamn dressing room and get off my fuckin’ stage. You might be hotter than shit, but I’m still the star of this show.”

His words break your heart. All those nights on his bus, talking and playing music. Those moments shatter and in their place is nothing. You stare at him and scoff, shaking your head. “You are washed up. A drunk. Good luck out there. You’re gonna need it since most of them came to see me.” You spit spitefully and back away from him, stomping out of the room and pulling your phone out. You are going to call your manager and tell him you are on for the tour. In a few months, you won’t even remember Jack Daniels.

****

“Jack…I don’t understand. You said you didn’t want to record another song.” His manager sounds bewildered and maybe it’s because Jack has been hell bent on self destruction since you left. After the concert he had tried to find you, only to be told you had already packed up and left. His texts wouldn’t go through, you’d blocked him. So a song is the only way he knows how to reach you.

“I don’t give a shit what I said. I want to record a single and have it put out now.” Jack insists, staring at a picture of you that he had taken, missing you more than he could express without a beat behind it.

****

You exhale shakily, nervous to perform an entire concert alone. Opening for Jack was one thing, five songs to sing, but this is an entire show. You have dance moves and new lyrics to remember. A band and back up dancers. The entire production has been a few months in the making and tonight is the first night of your tour. Your album exploded, going to number one pretty quickly and you have been swept up in success since leaving Jack in his dressing room. You stare at yourself in the mirror, remembering how Jack would drink before a show and you know you don’t want to get into that habit.

It was a pain in the ass buying a ticket to your show but he managed it. Pulling strings with the roadies he knew from his own tour, he had managed to get backstage and talk to the director of the show, convincing him that his idea would be a success. It was hard not to rush to you, seeing you all dressed up and ready to go on stage, but he didn’t want to mess up your timing and he knew he would.

You exhale shakily as you finish the song. Your encore is next and you are full of adrenaline and glistening with sweat. You exit off of the stage and grab the water, downing half off of it as you listen to the crowd scream your name. About five minutes later, you head back on stage with the band but they don’t start playing your song. You turn towards them in question when you see him come on stage. The crowd roars as Jack walks towards you and you force yourself to smile and bring the mic to your lips, “Jack Daniels everyone.”

“How’s everybody doin’ tonight?” Jack asks, fully mic-ed up and ready to go. The crowd cheers and he throws his hand up and waves but his eyes are on you. Your smile is painted on but your eyes are shooting deadly lasers at him that would knock him down dead if they could. “I know most ya’ll have heard my new single, but I bet ya’ll didn’t know I wrote it about this pretty lady right here, did ya?” He asks, and the crowd goes crazy again. “And I want to sing it to her tonight.”

You haven’t heard his new single. Having tried to actively avoid anything to do with Jack and you want to ask if he wrote a song about a whore. Your jaw is clenched, teeth gritted in a smile as Jack strums his guitar and he starts to play as the crowd settles down.

Jack pours his heart into the song, singing every note as pure as he can. The song about love and loss, failure and redemption and the everlasting hope that love would come back. He ends on the last note and the entire stadium erupts into applause.

Your blood is boiling but you can’t show that. You have to act like this is perfect and that Jack just won you over. He hasn’t. You smile and clap, deciding to end your concert there as you look at the band and make the symbol that the concert is over. You wave at the crowd and move to stand next to Jack, holding his hand as you both bid the crowd goodnight. He guides you off of the stage, guitar pressing against his back, and you snatch your hand away. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” You growl, raising your hand to slap his face.

Jack doesn’t stop you from slapping him, figuring that you deserve it agyer what he said. His eyes widened as his head snaps to the side from the impact and he rubs his cheek. “Sugar, I’m tryin’ to apologize the only way I know how. I’m a fuckin’ fool and I love you. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you.”

You shake your head, stepping away from him. “You love me? Are you being serious? I- Jack - you called me a whore? Remember? Said I wasn’t good enough. I- you fucking asshole.” You hiss, shaking your head as tears sting in your eyes.

“It’s me that ain’t good enough, sugar.” Jack admits, reaching out for you and then dropping his hand when you flinch back. “I didn’t mean it, I promise. I’ve never thought of you like that. I was angry and scared and I took it out on you. Didn’t you listen to the song?”

You nod, “I- shit. I did and I- you wrote that for me?” You ask and he nods. You shake your head and take another step back. “You don’t want me. That song - it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t love me.”

“Sugar, I love you more than anything.” Jack promises you. “I want you more than I want to be a country music star. I’d give it all up and be your roadie. Or I’d open for you. I don’t care. I just want you.”

His words make your heart twist, wanting to believe him and tell him how much you love him. You still do, even after you walked out of his dressing room that night. You swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes. “I can’t - I don’t believe you. You were so cruel to me and you picked me up from nothing and gave me a chance then you ripped it all away. I’m not gonna be a superstar like you. How can you throw it all away?”

“I want you more.” Jack tells you, desperate for you to believe him. “After my wife and son died, I never thought love was in the cards for me again. Never thought anything was more important. And when the label said they didn’t want to make a new album just yet, I thought I was done, that they had moved on and I couldn’t handle it.” He sighs. “I’ve decided I’m gonna retire, or start my own label if needed, but I want to see you become a star. I want to watch you rise up.”

Jack had told you about the death of his childhood sweetheart and his son. A tragedy that made you cry for him and it made you love him more that he’d survived such a loss. Understanding him more than you thought possible but now you aren’t sure if you trust him. “It doesn’t matter anyway. After this tour…I’m taking a break.” You reveal.

Jack frowns, “why? You’re just getting started. You need to take advantage. Record another album. Get back on the road.” He argues.

You shake your head, “I need to go home…to have the baby.” You declare softly, your hand resting on your lower stomach.

Jack’s eyes flutter between your stomach and your face, in disbelief and he knows that the baby has to be his. “C-congratulations.” He chokes out, wanting to reach out for you but he curls his hand into a fist. “I- what can I do? What do you want from me, sugar? You want me to be involved? You want child support? I want to be involved, however you will let me. A baby? Really?”

You bite your lip, imagining him as a father, as your partner, but then you remember his drinking problem. “Jack…I can’t - you’re a drunk. You can’t be around a kid. I wouldn’t trust you.” You hate saying it but your baby has to come first. You’d been torn on having an abortion since your career was taking off and you’d broken up with Jack but the thought of losing the last piece of him was too much as you decided to keep the baby.

“I’ll quit drinkin’.” If that’s what it takes for you to let him in the baby’s life, he would. He would do anything. “I’ll go to rehab and pour every goddamn bottle down the drain.”

You stare into his eyes, “if you mean it, if you’ll go to rehab…you can be in this baby’s life. In my life. I love- I can’t - I love you so much and I want you to be mine but you - the drink and the music are your priorities.

“I’ll give it all up, baby.” Jack shakes his head and reaches for you. “Baby, I’ll give it all up for you. I’ll be a stay at home daddy if it means I get to have you and-“ Jack’s voice cracks. “Our baby. I love you, sugar. I don’t want to spend another minute without you.”

You let him pull you close, allowing yourself to snuggle into his chest, breathing him in. “I just want you to be there. Go to rehab and get sober and I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” You promise, caressing his chest. “Our baby…our baby.” You grin and slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jack hums, right before the sounds from the stadium registers. The call from the crowd for you and Jack. The fans not leaving and chanting your names over and over again and Jack realizes that the crew hadn’t turned off your mics so your entire conversation had been broadcasted to the concert. “Oops.” Jack huffs, unconcerned with them hearing his confession, it’s nothing that isn’t in his song. “Think we’ve gone public, sugar.”

You bury your face in his chest, slightly embarrassed that the crowd heard it all but you knew it would all come out eventually. “Do you- the duet we wrote…maybe now is the time to try it live?” You ask, looking at him while you bashfully smile.

“I think now would be the perfect time to showcase a brand new song, a duet that probably is more emotional than we ever really thought it was gonna be.” Now thinking of the words, it was everything unsaid between you while on his tour. “Are you ready, baby? We can do it if you want to.”

You nod, knowing the whole world will know about your relationship and you want to put your words out into the world before the press gets hold of it. “Let’s do it.” You say and squeeze his hand as he starts to escort you on stage. The crowd roars as you come on stage and the band watch from the sides as Jack takes the guitar and winks at you, leaning in to kiss your cheek as your fingers flex around the mic. Jack starts to play and you sing a verse each, singing the chorus together and performing the song that summerized your relationship so far.

Jack watches you the entire time, stars in his eyes as he sings. Showing the crowd and the entire world how he feels about you. He knows that it will go viral, the news and the video uploaded onto social media. But for now, he’s just singing to you.

You sing back, the crowd blurring into the background as you focus on Jack and how you feel. “I love you.” You mouth at Jack when he finishes the song. He winks at you and pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours and the crowd roars, shouting their approval and congratulations. You smile against Jack’s mouth, excited for what the futures brings.

****

You sit there and look at Jack up on stage. He kept his promise and went to rehab, remaining sober from that day to this, and you watch him as he reads the prompter, dressed in a gorgeous suit you can’t wait to pull off of him later. You rub your bump and smile at him from your seat.

Jack beans into the camera, “and the winner for female breakout country artist is….” He fumbles with the envelope and lets out a whoop followed by your name. He had known you were going to win the CMT awards, he had told you that you were going to win when you had been nominated and then again when you were getting ready tonight. The other announcer claps and Jack is ecstatic as you come up and he rushes down to the edge of the stage to help you up the few stairs since you are now almost due. “I knew it was you, sugar.”

You grin, waddling on stage and wearing sneakers under your dress. Jack guides you to the podium and squeezes your hand, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Congratulations.” He murmurs and you cup his cheek, “thank you, darling.” You whisper before you turn to the microphone. “Wow…um, when I was getting ready tonight, my husband said to me that I was going to win but I didn’t believe him. It’s been a wild year. Going out on tour and falling in love with Jack Daniels, recording an album, finding out I was pregnant and getting married. This year has been the best year of my life and this is the cherry on top. Thank you for this award and I’d like to dedicate it to the man who gave me everything after hearing me sing in a bar one night.” You turn towards Jack and lean in to kiss him, “I love you so much.” The audience claps and you take the award in your hand, grinning at the crowd. “Now…you gonna take me home?” You ask Jack as you are escorted off stage.

“Always gonna take you home, sugar.” Jack presses his lips to yours and his hand caresses your stomach gently. “My country star of a wife deserves a hot bath to soak in and a foot rub by her adoring number one fan.” He coos, knowing that you will have your own kind of after party celebration. Together.

#pedro pascal #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #country singer au #country singer!Jack Daniels

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lvr1989 · 1 year

Text

pedro pascal x reader!singer

song: Finally // beautiful stranger

I didn’t do this before so I’m sorry if there’s a mistake!!

Warnings: No big age difference between them.

💗💗

You had been hurt in the past, especially for boys, and that pain persisted a bit over time, but everything changed one night at the party of one of your best friends, taylor swift, was where you found him.

Joe is an actor so he invited his colleagues to the party and taylor brought his people too. lana, jack, gracie, etc., was also there, and although you weren't in the best mood, but you knew that laughing with them for a while would do you good.

You saw him and everything became one of those moments that you feel that there is simply silence in the world and only he looks exist. We were like that for a while time (his look never ceased to amaze you) until everything took shape when people were doing karaoke and dancing you two collided..

"Sour apple baby, but you taste so sweet, you got hips like Jagger and two left feet and I wonder if you'd like to meet"

He as a whole was absolutely handsome and attractive but had such a genuine look as if his inner child was looking at you too and this makes you feel safe in a way. He said with a smile in his face "hi, I see that you like Prince, it's a good start haha" you laughed and felt hypnotized, you told him how you loved his albums and that was only the beginning of the night

you two were dancing but most of the night talked like you were the closest friends, he confessed to being your admirer you told him how you saw narcos in less than a month i was fun.

He had something special, you felt it when you saw him dance and make you spin with so much delicacy like if you were made of porcelain, and when he spoke and laughed, dawn passed into the background. In the morning (luckily taylor's parties were eternal) the sun was shining on his neck and you froze, he said with a shy voice "why you look at me, I have something in my nose?" Then both laughed at the same time and not because of the alcohol, it was something stronger

You're not sure how but you confessed that his skin looked golden, he was like an angel. You traced your finger down his arm appreciating him and he touched your hand tenderly and without letting go he brought you closer. You don't remember feeling such a great force inside of you a long time ago, but when he kissed you felt that heaven was vulgar compared to this feeling, his lips were so soft and his tongue asking for permission while you let out a little moan.

"That I've never seen a mouth I'd kill to kiss and I'm terrified, but I can't resist"

You never felt so cute as when he stared at you with sparkling eyes while his mouth was riddled with your lipstick red. And maybe it was too fast, but for a moment you thought in the back of your mind "I could get used to this"

After that night, there were thousands of dates, going to his house to cook together, spending summer nights meeting his group of friends and yours, teaching him to play the piano with you, It was a dream...

You both knew the price of fame, but when the dim light of the lamp you gave him illuminated you while Marvin Gaye played in the background, no cynical clone and evil journalists had power over what existed between you two.

"Oh, we're dancing in my living room, and up eat my fists and I say I'm only playing, but the truth is this"

It was his hands on your hips, traces of wine on his shirt, your lips on his neck and his voice in your ear making you feel like you had already fallen.

"Used to think that loving' meant a painful chase but you're right here now and I think you'll stay"

You loved waking up and hearing him saying "good morning amor" remember when a time ago he told you that you were his definition of love.

You loved the quiet afternoons between you two when he was studying his scripts and you were looking him and inspiration invaded you to write poemas and just felt that love was these moments, being the only one who knew how he liked his coffee in the morning, when you two were at midnight and the light of the stars illuminated so you traced his shoulders and back, the way his eyes sparkled when he saw his nephews and the warm and unique way they welcomed you into their family.

So when the night come you think

"It's here"

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #female reader #singer!reader #imagine #Spotify #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction

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coffeeshades · 1 year

Text

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3

here’s part two!

You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.

You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.

So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.

You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.

Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.

Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.

So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.

"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.

Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.

"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.

He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.

"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."

Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.

"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."

You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."

The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.

You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.

You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.

Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.

There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.

However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.

As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.

Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.

It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.

"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."

He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."

"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.

That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.

You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.

"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"

"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."

He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.

This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.

"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.

"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"

"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."

Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.

You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.

Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.

Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.

"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.

He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."

Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.

Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.

You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.

"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.

He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.

"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.

"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I know, I know. It's stupid."

"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."

You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."

"I've got nowhere else to be."

The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.

"You two should date."

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"

"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."

Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."

"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"

"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me." Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.

This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.

Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.

You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"

It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.

You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.

As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.

"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."

"How'd you know that?"

"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."

The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.

"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.

Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.

Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."

You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.

As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.

After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.

"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.

"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."

You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.

"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.

"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.

"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.

"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.

To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."

If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"

Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.

You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.

"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."

"I think you're correct."

His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"

And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.

Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.

"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.

It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.

"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.

He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.

"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"

"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."

He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.

"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

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#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #my writing

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mrsmandalorian · 6 days

Text

Nonsense

-- pedro x singer!f!reader

a/n: howdy everyone! was inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's Coachella performance to write this. let me know if you guys want a second story to Espresso lol. much love to everyone!! -maddie

Summary: A surprise visitor at your first-ever Coachella performance!

main masterlist

Word Count: 4.5k

Song: Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter!!!!!!

Warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, smut!!!, and fluff!, drinking, drug use (edibles and smoking), switch sex, p in v, fingering, sexual teasing, pet names (mi amor, princesa, daddy, baby, baby girl, puppy, angel)

Coachella was one of the most famous music festivals a musician could play at. It was such an honor to be on the setlist. It is incredible to perform a night each weekend in a row. This might be the most significant break in your career. Something felt missing.

The crowd started to get excited as the set time grew nearer. The nerves shot through you as you took deep breaths. You were trying to get over the feelings going through your mind.

“Are you alright?” one of the backup dancers asks as they help you with the earpiece. As you look yourself over in the mirror, you see the beautiful outfit that was personalized to fit you wonderfully, with your hair done beautifully.

You were ready.

“Yes, I am ready!” You smiled at your team as you took hold of your microphone. The band starts playing one of your most famous songs. The lights went dark as the band played the first cords of the song. The crowd roared in anticipation. You slowly stepped out into the darkness and started the melody.

The lights pour onto the stage, and the crowd goes wild. They get the first glance at you with your sexy and luxurious outfit. You smirk to yourself at the attention as you scan through the crowd. All the exciting and loyal fans in the crowd as they sing every verse with you. You follow the dance choreography you have practiced and performed many times. Once the music was going, it was hard not to get stuck into it and forget about the hundreds of people in front of you. The crowd was going wild as they sang along to your new song.

You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him.

As you go through the song and move around more, you look into the VIP areas and see many familiar faces. You don’t pay much attention as you have to end the song. You were so busy entertaining your fans that you did not notice who had slipped into the VIP section alongside both of your mutual friends. You were so focused on the choreography and in your element. The show was a big deal and a performance with dances and graphics for all the songs on the giant screens. You were singing your last song of the night, which was Nonsense. It was one of your favorite songs to perform, as it gave the audience the mood for the evening. The song represented something personal to you: your secret relationship with your new lover, Pedro Pascal, the whole internet’s boyfriend. It was interesting to see social media go crazy over who the song might be for. Some had the correct answers, but it was still a new and private relationship.

The lights fall as the melody starts. “I think that you guys will enjoy this next song! I have seen all the tiktoks, by the way.” You joke into the darkness and receive a wild response from the crowd. You take a few breaths and get into position in a very sexy pose, along with the dancers, waving at the sweet fans who can see you.

“No (La-la, la-la) da-ah-ah, ah (Ah-ah, uh, uh, uh, yeah)”

As the song begins, the spotlight shines only on you. You scan over the crowd with a smirk. It was one of the sexy, edgy songs you wrote because of your lover. There are butterflies in your stomach from nerves to play something as personal as this song, especially for such a big and reactive crowd.

“Think I only want one number on my phone I might change your contact to "Don't leave me alone." You said you like my eyes, and you like to make them roll Treat me like a queen; now you got me feelin' thrown, oh.”

The stage lights illuminate the whole stage as you walk around and sway your hips to the music. During the lyrics, you stop and try to sing with your fans as you make your way to the side of your VIP area to see those familiar faces.

“But I can't help myself When you get close to me Baby, my tongue goes numb Sounds like blah, blah, blee”

As you sing towards the area, your eyes linger over your friend group of non-famous friends to Sarah Paulson, which causes you to smile at them. You continue to scan the section until they land on HIM. The person that this song was written about. He was being his goofy and adorable self as he sang along with you. This causes you to mess up with a blush but quickly recover as the next verse comes.

“I don't want no one else (don't want) Baby, I'm in too deep Here's a lil' song I wrote (a song I wrote) It's about you and me (me)”

The eye contact that he held with you as you sang your filthy thoughts of him directly to him with a huge smirk. You continued to perform as you moved your hips a little more to the choreography because of him. In the following verses, you look away as you sing to your fans.

“I'll be honest Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in And when you got your arms around me Ooh, it feels so good. I had to jump the octave I think I got an ex but I forgot him And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it I don't even know I'm talkin' nonsense I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)”

You twirl your hair and sway your hips back to his side of the stage as your dancers follow close behind you. Make eye contact with him to ensure he is focused on you now.

“I'm talkin' all around clock I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks I'm talkin' opposite of soft I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts You gotta keep up with me I got some young energy I caught the L-O-V-E How do you do this to me?”

You follow the choreography correctly as you hold flirty eye contact with him. Once you go over the chorus again and start to finish the song, you stand in your final position in the middle of the stage. You send him a wink and blow a kiss, then turn your attention to your fans.

“You guys have been absolutely the best! I hope you all enjoyed it and hope to see you again next weekend! I love you, and please stay safe!” You say after you show appreciation to your band and dancers. You wave and bow as the crowd goes wild and chant your name as the lights go down.

As you run backstage with your crew, laughing and smiling, you give all of them well-deserved love and appreciation. Your manager is there with water and a hug.” You did amazing! They loved you!” they say as you drink your water and wipe the sweat. Now celebrate! Not too hard!”

You follow their instructions as you see your friends run up as you exit the backstage towards your tent. They all sang praises and love and hugged you. After a while, you finally met the handsome brown eyes again, but closer this time. You jog up to him in your tight-fitting outfit with a big smile as the two collide in a hug, throwing your arms around his neck. He was wearing a button-up shirt with the first set of buttons undone, dark jeans, and his oversized glasses and baseball cap.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You say with a smile as you look up to him. He smirked as he got ready to say something witty back to you. You interrupt it with a short but passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m happy you’re here! How long have you been here?” Your hands land on his exposed chest, which makes him pull you closer.

He chuckles at you as he sees the adrenaline still pumping through you as you chatter to him. “I just decided to come to see my favorite person perform at Coachella. My schedule can wait two days. I’ve been here the whole time. You were great, beautiful.” He keeps his voice so no one else can hear your conversation. You feel his hands slide down your hips a little bit. “Also, where did you get this little number, and why haven’t I ever seen it?” Letting his thick fingers run over the design against your lower sides.

The compliments give you a confidence boost on top of your adrenaline rush. You bite your lip as his hands wander slightly until they settle on your lower back. “I planned on changing before we celebrate, but if you like it, I can keep it on.” You whisper into his ear, then look back at his expression.

His eyes darkened from your comment, causing him to pull you a little closer. “I like that idea,” He whispers in your ear as his lips graze your neck with a few pecks. Before you both could continue, your friends gathered you into other event areas. The group stayed together as they went to different stages to watch other artists, including Doja Cat and Lana Del Rey.

Pedro and you both socialized and drank with all your friends as you celebrated your incredible performance. There were edibles taken sometime in all the fun. He would occasionally hold onto you as you both danced closely. You both let loose, and as you can see, everyone was far from wasted. You were letting your bodies get as close as possible, hips grinding onto his. His hands would run down your sides and tease you. Stealing kisses from each other, and the sexual tension was through the roof.

The feeling of being watched makes you look around every once in a while. The camera flashes and excited screams from people around you made you realize that your relationship might not be that much of a secret now. Pedro and you interacted with lovely, chill fans who casually recognized you. You had some groups that would call over to Pedro as “daddy” as he played it off like a champ.

“Vamos, mi amor,” Pedro whispers in your ear as he grips his gentle hands around your waist. You meet his erotic brown eyes that make your cheeks burn hard as you squeeze your thighs together. Pedro was very facially expressive because you could read his thoughts whenever you looked into him. His thoughts were highly naughty, and it was time to go home. “I wondered how you felt about calling it for a night and heading back to your room for a nice bath.”

You look around at everyone in the crew and see your friends slowing their nights down, which doesn’t make you worried about causing another upset. Meeting the brown eyes again, you give him an arguing grin as you throw back your head with a laugh.

“I thought you might like that idea, Hermosa. Let’s tell them all good night and get going,” he whispers again in your ear as he gently pulls you towards your group of friends. Both of you take the time to say goodbye to your friends and thank them for supporting you. Pedro’s loud laugh pulls you away from your friends as you meet his warm eyes. He hugs everyone and draws you into his hip with an arm around your waist. “Goodnight, everyone. Safe travels!”

There were plenty of farewells, naughty things, and cat calls as you leaned against Pedro, who turned around with a silly face and middle finger gesture. He helps guide you to the Uber you take to your hotel room for the night. As you lay your head in his lap, the car ride was full of stolen kisses and laughter.

“You were an absolute star tonight, mi amor,” Pedro says as he traces his fingers along the straps of his outfit, letting his fingers run down to his cleavage. That last song was very cheeky. I wonder who that could be about.”

“Thank you. It was about one of my lovers. You might know him,” You joke with him, trying not to moan. His wandering fingers turn into wandering palms as they slowly paw at your breast.

“Oh, you are playing hard to get whenever I already have you smitten,” he mumbles, only where you could hear him. The car comes to a stop as you arrive at your hotel. You quickly get out of the vehicle as Pedro follows closely behind you. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another as you walked through the empty hotel halls. Acting as strangers whenever you encounter a person, you giggle with each other once you come back together.

Once you find your room, Pedro checks to see if the hallway is clear. He uses a little force with his grip as he leans you against your shut door. Letting his hands explore before they landed on your bottom, kneading your ass. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw as he lines his lips up with yours, passionately kissing yours. His body closes into yours as you let him control the situation as you follow his lead. After grinding bodies and long, passionate kisses, you pull away, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at him with your cheeks burning. “We should get inside,” you say as you turn around the door, fumbling with the door. Pedro stepped back a little and watched as you struggled a bit.

“Why are you so frizzled, mi amor?” He whispers against your neck and presses the front of his body to your back. Feeling his stiff member against your backside along with his hot breath, almost making you moan out at contact. “Let me help you.” He helps you inside as you giggle and follow him.

Pedro and you have been messing around for a while now. You have not discussed a relationship status or anything, but neither of you hooked up with others. He treats you like a significant other the way he respects your boundaries and doesn’t hide his affection towards you.

“Let’s go put that beautiful bathtub you sent me a picture of yesterday to good use,” he teases you as he takes off his baseball cap, which makes his hair go all over the place. He starts unbuttoning more of his shirt as his chest becomes bare. You can’t resist running your hands down his chest as he looks at you with a smirk.

He spanks your ass hard with a groan because of your hands on him. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says as he pats your ass to get you to start moving. Once in the bathroom, turn on the large white tub to create a perfect mix of hot and cold. He grips your hips as he runs his hands to the back of your outfit. “Whoever designed this little piece is a fucking genius. It is beautiful and flatters you greatly.”

“Well, thank you, Pedro. I might have had you in mind when I got it designed. I was going to send you some pictures tonight whenever I came back here,” you smirked and winked at him in the mirror as he helped you undo the outfit. He kissed down your body as the fabric went off, making chills run across your body. The time apart doesn’t affect you emotionally, but how your body reacts tells the absolute truth. The way your heart rate skyrockets as his lips make their way to your mound.

You leaned against the counter for support as your outfit fell onto the floor, leaving you only in underwear. You make eye contact with Pedro as he continues to kiss and lick down your lower half. He hooks his large fingers under the top band of your panties as he meets your eyes for approval. You give him a slight nod and grin as his feather-like kisses follow the material as he pulls them down your legs. Throwing your head back as you try not to make a noise as he runs his tongue just above your clit. You make a frustrated groan as his tongue suddenly leaves your skin, leaving goosebumps.

Pedro chuckles softly as he sees how your body reacts to him, pulling away with a smirk on his lips. He stands up as he pushes his body against yours, pulling your hips into his. “You are such a good girl for me. Your body is always ready for me,” he whispers as he ducks his head to kiss your neck. “Let’s go in, mi amor.” He gets in first so you can sit in between his thick thighs. He helps you as you slide in between his legs, back against his chest. His rigid member pressed against your lower back, his hands tease your nipples after you get settled. He couldn’t help but let his hands wander as he settled comfortably behind you. He rubs out your sore body but lets his hands focus on your most sensitive spots.

His gentle but firm hands run on either side of your hips as his kisses lay on your shoulders. He inhaled deeply against your skin, causing you to tense up your back as it chills down your spine. He moves his hands from your hips towards your mound. You used one hand to spread your left leg apart, holding it still with just one large hand. His right hand found its way down to tease your slit, playing with your sweet lips. You felt the member on your back begin to throb as he slightly rubbed himself against you. You let out your needy moans and sounds continuous as he worked his fingers against you.

He kept teasing you and kissing your shoulder and neck with his scruffy face. You had enough of his teasing and rigid member. It was rare that you switched roles, but you were both switches. (You can’t tell me that Pedro is not a switch.) You slide out of his grip as you meet his eyes once you are turned around to face him.

You grasp onto his rigid member, holding yourself up on the sides of the tub. He squirms and lets out a moan as you hold yourself over him. “I’m tired of the teasing, Pascal. It’s my turn,” you say as you ease your entrance slowly onto his throbbing tip. You find a comfortable position for your legs as you keep going up and down on his tip. He lets out a loud ‘fuck’ and moans as he squeezes his eyes close. His hands move to your hips, letting you take control. You start to ride him as you push your breast into his face.

One of his hands moved from your hips to grip your tit, “who gave you permission to touch me?” You whisper almost into his ear as he looks up at you with big brown eyes.

“Sorry, miss,” he whimpers back as your speed of volatile movements onto his cock increases. He leans back and rests his arms on the back of the tub as he lets you ride the hell out of him. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes as he groans out in pleasure. “Fuck, mi amor.”

“You like this, don’t you?” You firmly ask him as you force his face into the middle of your tits. He starts to motorboat your breast as you suffocate him gently. The scruff from his face makes you more sensitive than you thought, riding his member harder. “You start fucking me hard, baby. Thrust your big cock into me.”

He meets your eyes with pleasing brown eyes to satisfy your needs. His pleas make you smirk as you nod. Pedro begins to slam his hips into you, moaning as he does. “Thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you.” He pants as he thrusts deep inside of you, feeling his throbbing member hitting every spot.

He grips your body, and his thrust begins to become more rapid as you continue to ride his giant member. Every thrust has the purpose of pleasing you; his hand works its way back up to your breast. He plays aggressively with your nipple, pinching and sucking on it. His other hand gripped onto your ass as his rhythm stayed deep and hard. The overstimulation of his hands and the member inside of you causes you to scream out in pleasure, “Good puppy.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm coming sooner as he leans up and thrusts into you. Pedro chose the pet name on one of the first nights you had taken control of the action.

Eventually, with his rapid thrust and wandering hands, your body starts to shake as you are overcome with pleasure. “Keep going, puppy,” you whimper as he continues to work out your orgasm. “Such a good puppy.” You whisper as you run your hands over his chest. Your body falls into his as you overcome your orgasm, gripping onto his as he continues to pleasure you. He pulls out and fingers your wet pussy, licking his fingers after you finish.

You both lay in the tub for a while as you overcome your orgasm. He held you as you came down from your high, kissing your head. “Was that good for you, mi amor?” He asks gently as he pulls you into his chest. He moved the hair from your face, rubbing his hands down your waist.

You gently nod against him as the day catches up with you. After a few minutes, you get tired of the cramped space of the tub. “Let’s get out, baby,” you mumble to him as you lean up, earning a grunt in return. The guilt of not pleasuring Pedro silently overcame you as you exited the bathtub.

The sound of a low grunt makes you return to the tub as the broad man emerges. You smile mischievously at him as he glances up to meet your grin. His member is still very much erect as he steps in front of you. The fun part of being switch partners was that it could change in a flash. You give Pedro a knowing look as he meets your eyes and stands before you. His eyes and grin light up on his face as he gently guides you onto the counter behind you. “My turn, princesa,” he mumbles and spreads your legs apart as he pushes himself in between them. He pulls your body towards the edge of the counter so your legs wrap around him.

You lean your back against the counter as he holds your lower half, rubbing his throbbing cock against your slick entrance. He leans over your body, sucking on one of your nipples to get a reaction out of you, which it did as you let out a loud moan. Your body reacted as well as it pushed farther onto his member. You both let out a pleasurable sound as his tongue runs down your chest to your stomach. Your hips start to tease him as they grind against him, which causes him to spank the side of your ass. “No, ma’am, it’s daddy’s turn,” he smirks up at you as he moves one of his hands to your nipple. His fingers quickly fondle your right nipple as you moan loudly. “You let daddy fuck your sweet, sweet pussy?”

You let out a satisfied groan as his hand moved down your entrance, gently rubbing you as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit. After gently teasing your pussy with his fingers, he lubed himself up with his fingers from your wetness. His large member enters you again as he holds onto your hips. He pushes inside slowly as you both let out moans.

“You’re so fucking wet, angel. Did ya miss daddy?” He asks as he grips your hips harder, thrusting inside of you. You give a desperate nod as your hands grip onto the edge of the counter. Pedro takes his time as he edges himself in and out of you, giving you all the praises. He pulls up your upper body so your bodies grind against one another, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your back. “Good girl.”

The friction from the position on your mound makes it hard not to moan and squirm in pleasure. His thrust becomes more rigid and repetitive as his grip holds you gently but firmly. You could feel your orgasm approaching as well from the position. “I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you whimpered as you gripped his firm broad shoulders.

His mouth meets your ear as he groans into your ear. His heavy breathing makes your back arch and push into his thrust more. “Wait for me, baby girl,” he mumbles into your ear as his thrust becomes more sloppy. “Come for me, angel.” He sets you down on the counter as his hands grip your breast, twiddling your nipples with his thick fingers.

Before long, both of you came together with your bodies grinding against one another, along with satisfied noises.

Pedro’s warm brown eyes meet yours before he kisses you. The two of you might not have a title, but the sparks were there every touch. “Such a good girl, angel,” he says as he gently pulls out of you. “Let’s take a quick shower.” He helps you into the shower, where the two of you help wash one another and joke around with stolen kisses in between. After getting ready, Pedro carries you into bed as the two of you order dessert from room service. The rest of the night was full of laughter and heavy makeout. The two of you cuddle up to some cheesy movie and fall asleep midway through it.

These were the perfect nights for you to write a whole album about your feelings for this cheeky, handsome man.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #din dijarin fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro x you

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poeticpascal · 10 months

Text

Trouble (Pedro Pascal x Rockstar!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Pedro had never heard of (Y/N) (L/N) before his latest appearance on The Graham Norton Show. By the end, his assistant wishes it had stayed that way, and he wonders how it took him so long to find her.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse (now recovered), allusions to but no specific mention of an overdose.

A/n: I am very nervous to post this! I've never written a fic about an actor like this before, so depending on how this one does lol, you may be able to expect more from me like this. Please let me know what you think, and don't forget my requests are open!

“And he used red this time! We were getting so worried that he wasn’t interested in all 3 primary colours-”

Pedro sighs, glancing towards the door to see if his assistant was coming back yet. No sign.

He turns back to the old lady who’s been talking now for what - 4 hours? 5? It felt like it. She was sweet, and he didn’t want to be rude, but god if he had to spend one more minute hearing about her grandson’s latest finger painting-

“So sorry I took so long! We’ll have to get going Pedro - your next interview is in 10.”

His assistant - Alicia - burst back into the room and Pedro was sure he could feel his eyes well in relief. He takes the lady’s hand, shaking it and giving her a warm smile. “Mrs Alderman, I’d love to hear all about Harvey, but I’ve gotta go. It was lovely to meet you!”

She smiles in understanding and clasps her own hand on top of his. “It was lovely to meet you too, Peter!”

Alicia snorts behind him, and Pedro gives up with a final, defeated smile before heading out of the cafe and back towards his car. He’d only wanted to nip in for a second, to grab coffee and a pastry, but then Alicia got a phone call, and Mrs Alderman started talking to him in the queue, and by the time they left his goddamn coffee had gone cold.

They clamber inside, Alicia pushing a few files onto the backseat as Pedro stares. “I almost died, you know,” he quips, half muffled as he takes a bite of his croissant. He hums at the taste, light and buttery; maybe it had been worth it.

Alicia rolls her eyes, used to his antics by now. “I was on the phone to the BBC. They’ve confirmed who you’ll be on The Graham Norton Show with.”

“They have? Who?”

He generally felt nervous going on the big chat shows, especially with how in demand he'd been recently. But Graham had been so warm, especially for his first time on the show, that when they asked him to come back he'd accepted without hesitation.

And really, he was quite looking forward to it.

Alicia doesn't seem quite as excited though. She flips open her notepad, littered with delicate but hasty scribbles of various projects and dates, and begins to read out the names.

“Robert Downey Jr, he’s promoting Oppenheimer.”

“I'm gonna meet Iron Man?” Now he was nervous.

“Kate McKinnon. She's in the Barbie movie, I think.”

“Amazing.” He'd always wanted to meet her.

“And…” she sighs. “(Y/N) (L/N).”

“Who?” No seriously, who?

Alicia snaps her head up to look at him. Surely he didn’t not know who she was? “(Y/N) (L/N)? The singer?”

Pedro just shakes his head, unbothered. “Nah, never heard of her. She any good?”

“No, Pedro, that’s the point.” He cocks an eyebrow, gesturing for her to continue as she looks back and forth between him and her notes. “She’s a publicist’s worst nightmare. She’s the lead singer of this band, The Heartbreakers, they’re huge. Like, Taylor Swift-huge. But if Taylor Swift did heavy metal.”

“And why don't we like her?” he asks.

“Because she’s trouble. She’s had big drug problems, she argues with everyone, she goes on stage and pulls all these crazy stunts. She’s always in the news, Pedro.”

He can’t help but think she sounds like fun.

“Can’t be that bad, right? If she’s that famous?”

Alicia shakes her head, “she's famous, but that doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous. People love you right now, Pedro. I’m just concerned that if you’re seen to be… friendly with her, people will raise their eyebrows. It won’t look good.

He thinks for a second. It really wasn’t in his nature, this whole PR thing. He liked meeting new people, and listening to them, and connecting. Maybe not Mrs Alderman - and now he's thinking about that nightmare again - but, for the most part, yes; Pedro liked people.

And not giving someone a chance because of his public image didn’t feel right.

Alicia sees the cogs turning in his brain, so she flips the pad closed, giving him her full attention now. “I know it’s strange, but I mean it. It’s not a hole you want to get dragged into. Her fandom is huge, the media's obsessed with her, parents hate that their kids listen to her and kids love to piss off their parents by listening to her. I’m going to speak to them about getting you sat on the opposite end of the couch... I just want to make sure you’re not linked with her. Trust me.”

With that, he nods his head. He does trust her - at the end of the day, he didn’t even know who this (Y/N) person was. So what if he didn’t speak to her much on the show?

—------

“WHAT?!”

He had to pull the phone away as Bella’s near-screech pierced his ears. They yell again, something along the lines of “are you serious? Pedro, are you serious?!”

“Yes I’m serious, what’s the big-”

“Oh my god I can’t believe it! You’re going to meet (Y/N) (L/N)! Will you mention her to me? I saw her tweet once that she watched the show and oh my god I need her to follow me on Instagram-”

“Wait, Bella, wait,” Pedro rubs his thumb and forefinger between his brows, not exactly thrilled that what was supposed to be a call to calm his nerves the night before the show was now filled with so much rowdiness. “I don’t even know who she is! You listen to her?”

They gasp, and he just knew they were pulling a dramatic, jaw-dropped face on the other end of the line. “Come on man, I know you’re not the hippest guy around but you have to know who she is!”

He giggles, throwing his hands in the air. “‘Fraid not, Bella. I’ve no clue. I do know i’m not supposed to talk to her though.”

Now there was a real gasp, not the purposefully dramatic kind. “What? Pedro, you can’t not talk to her. You have to. She’s the coolest person, like, ever.”

Pedro scoffs, “what about me?”

“When you get sleeve tattoos and banned from performing at the VMAs, you might get considered dude.”

“She was banned from the VMAs?”

You know that feeling, when someone tells you not to do something, and you don’t want to do anything else?

Yeah, that.

“I’ll send you the link, it was so cool. She said she’ll be allowed back next year anyway 'cos they need her to stay relevant.” He giggles again at that, and yeah, he couldn’t deny his intrigue.

“So that’s why you like her? She's all rebellious and stuff?” Pedro chews on his thumb as he asks, the anxiety of tomorrow not quite forgotten, but listening intently as Bella rants on.

“Nah, I mean she is controversial, but I just think she’s amazing. She acts all tough and rock 'n' roll, but she's really great deep down. I went to see her band once a couple of years ago, and this girl fainted so she stopped the whole show to make sure she got water and was okay. She’s just misunderstood, man.”

“Is it true she’s a drug addict?” He's not sure why he felt the need to ask. Why he cared. Maybe it was just to build a better picture, or maybe because Bella loves her so much, and he cares about their interests. Maybe, he had a sort of… concern, for her. For this enigma.

They knew each other well, and Bella could sense Pedro’s interest. More than anything, they were just excited to tell him about their favourite singer. “She used to be, it was crazy. She’d go on stage high and everything, people really hated her then. But she’s been sober now for, like, a year? She talks about it a lot. This is what I mean dude - everyone remembers all those shitty things but I think she’s so strong.”

He hums in agreement, thinking back to Alicia’s warning a few days earlier.

“Do you think it’d be bad? If I talked to her?”

It was Bella taking a moment’s pause, now. “I mean… Alicia’s not wrong. She’s not exactly got the cleanest image a celebrity’s ever had. I guess it’s up to you to decide what matters most.”

It was quite profound really, and Pedro was reminded of just how mature they were for their age.

“The most important thing is that you give her my instagram handle.”

And just like that, the moment’s gone. He laughs, shaking his head and muttering “you’re a dick”, before falling into conversation about other things. He fully intended to look up (Y/N) (L/N) before he fell asleep, but the hours went by quick and soon enough he'd drifted off, phone in hand and tomorrow's nerves dispelled for now.

—------

Maybe this whole Graham Norton thing was a bad idea.

Pedro was tired.

It had been a long flight to London, a long drive from the airport to his hotel. And a long, long wait at the studio before they even thought about getting filming started.

He’d been in hair and makeup for a good while, and according to Alicia, it would still be another two hour’s wait until they got him sat on the big red couch.

Yeah, he was tired.

He steps out, the muddied skies of London painting a grey-cast shadow on his face, the frosty winds hitting his skin. It was nice. Different. Much harsher than the LA sun he was used to.

He looks around; it’s just him there in the car park, leant against the windowsill and letting his eyes drift shut. It’s peaceful, and if it weren’t for the rushing of the motorway that ran just beside him, he’d almost feel alone.

“Mind if I join?”

He jolts awake, startled out of his near-tranquility, facing the woman who’d crept outside through the same doors he did. She was casually dressed, far more so than the BBC staff he’d seen today; she must be a temp, or an intern or something. A heavy black hoodie swallows her frame, and he wished he had a similar one as his ice-cold breath fell into the air. His eyes draw upwards, and he thinks to himself just how pretty she is. (Y/H/C) hair is bundled in her hood, loose strands blowing messily in the wind. She has no makeup on, so he can see greyish bags hung under her eyes, her lips stained pink, a soft blush blooming over her cheeks from the frosty air. There’s a roughness to her, something harsh, and it makes her so utterly alluring.

“Yeah- yes, of course. Of course.” He offers a smile, and she smiles back, and his heart races.

He shuffles to the left, unsure of why he’s making room for her on the windowsill; they’re outside, he’s a stranger. There’s a bench not far from the door, perfectly fit for her to sit on. And yet she follows his movements, and leans against the porcelain outline of the large window, searching for something in her pockets.

“D'you smoke?” She produces a pack of cigarettes, and digs out a lighter from her back jean pocket. Pedro watches as she slips one of them between her lips, covering the end with delicate hands as she lights it, revelling in the taste and taking a long drag. He notices then her long black nails, perfectly painted and delicately holding the cigarette in place, elegant and weapon-like at the same time.

There’s a nonchalance to everything she does, and it’s enticing. She doesn’t look at him when she asks, or when she expels the smoke from her lungs, keeping her eyes set forward and undoubtedly feeling the weight of Pedro’s on her face.

He forgets he’s supposed to answer.

“Er, no, thank you. I’m being good.” He offers her a smile, forced as he tries to remember his own whereabouts, too entranced by the beauty and the charisma that fell from this woman in droves.

The two are silent for a little while, he can’t be too sure how long. He smells the smoke from beside him, sees the wisps drawl from her tongue and into the cool air, and for someone who considered himself rather charming, he couldn’t for the life of him think of something to say.

He doesn’t have to.

“What're you doing out here, then?”

And this time she is looking at him. They’re sat close, and his eyes meet hers with ease, warm and welcoming. He feels a little more comfortable now, like she’s a friend; her warmness makes it hard to feel anything other than at peace.

He smiles, bashful. “I’m working.”

“Working?”

He looks down at his shoes, rubbing them against one another. It was always a strange conversation to have, explaining who he was to people who didn’t know. It felt like showing off a little; more than anything, he didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

“Yeah, I, uh… on the show.”

She giggles, and it sounds so sweet that his tummy heats up. “I’m only kidding. I know who you are. The Last Of Us, right?”

There’s a sincerity to her tone, nothing like this thick, false charm people try to use when they know he’s famous. It didn’t feel like she wanted anything from him in that moment. He nods, looking back up at her and his breath hitches when they immediately lock eyes again. Her lips are turned into a sly smile, cheeky almost, and he can’t help but grin back.

“I liked that show,” she says before taking another long drag.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me. Makes this fuckin’ huge press tour worth it.”

She laughs. Not the quiet giggle she gave him before, but a proper laugh, one that makes her eyes brighter and her nose scrunch up. Pedro laughs too, caught up in her, and when their chuckles die down they relax into a comfortable silence for a few moments before he turns to her again and asks, “how about you? Are you on the production team?”

She ponders her answer. It’s the first time - in the 10 minutes since they’d met - that she’d seemed to falter. Like she was unsure. “Yeah, you could say that.”

He didn’t push it. Maybe his fame was a problem. Did she feel overwhelmed? Or judged? He didn’t know - but a twang of sadness settled in his gut, and he wondered what to say next.

She recovers quickly, though. Stands back up a little straighter, puts the butt of her cigarette out against the wall, and faces him once again. “You seem nervous."

Pedro chuckles, nervously. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only when you scuff your shoes within an inch of their life and readjust your glasses every 10 seconds.”

“And here I thought I hid it well.” Cocking an eyebrow, the woman looks at him knowingly and tilts her head, encouraging him to go on.

“I always get nervous before these things... it feels worse this time, though. I just know Robert Downey Jr is gonna think I’m so weird, and then there’s this other lady I gotta avoid-”

“Who?”

She was abrupt, quickly apologising for interrupting him. He didn’t mind. “She’s like this... musician? I think. I’m sure you’ll know who she is. I’m awful at keeping up with whatever the kids are doing now. (Y/N)- (Y/N) something.”

There was a pause, awkwardly long. “My assistant says I gotta stay away from her” her continues, feeling a need to fill the gap. “Just doesn’t feel right to me, you know? To judge someone like that before you’ve even met them?”

He watches as she nods her head, deep in thought. She meets his eyes and nods again, faster, showing to him now that she agrees. She understands. He’s not quite sure how she understands, but he believes her; she didn’t strike him as the dishonest sort.

Pedro’s phone vibrates in his pocket, startling them both and they share another soft laugh. He grabs it, seeing Alicia's text flash on the screen - You’ve got a meeting with the producers to go over filming. 10 minutes. Ah shit.

“Everything okay?” There’s concern in her voice, and Pedro wonders if she knows he has to go. If she’s just as disappointed as he is.

“Yeah, yeah. I just - I gotta go.”

She’s definitely disappointed. He knows because her bright eyes fall the same way his did.

He’d never quite felt like this; like a magnet was drawing him to someone and like it would hurt in his soul to let her go. It occurred to him then, he didn’t even know her name, and he’d be damned if he was going to crawl back into the world of PR and publicity stunts and rehearsed answers without finding it out.

“It was nice to meet you. I don’t know if you- you want to get a coffee? Or something? After filming?”

The same harsh edge she had when they met, the one that had slipped and softened as they talked, seemed to have crept back as a once-sweet smile became that sly, cautious smirk. He couldn’t quite understand what she was thinking, what the cogs that so clearly turned in her mind were churning up, but he knew he didn’t care as long as he got to see her again.

“I’d like that.” Pedro sighs in relief, smiling again and sticking out an ice-bitten hand. “I’m Pedro.”

She giggles, offering her own hand and he stalled at the feeling of her fingers wrapped around his own. “I know.” She retorts, and he laughs, and just when she opens her mouth to tell him her own name-

“Pedro! We gotta go!”

Alicia shoves the door open, not even looking up from her phone which was presumably inundated with countless emails and phone calls, and Pedro sighs before looking desperately into the still nameless women’s eyes. She just smiles, dropping his hand and digging hers into her pockets. “Go on. I'll catch you later.”

He nods, swallowing and offering a small, regretful smile before pushing himself off the wall and following Alicia back inside. She huffs at him, speeding back off down the corridor and muttering something along the lines of “these goddamn producers”. He looks back a final time, to where the woman still sits in the windowsill. She waves, and he grins, unable to hide the childlike excitement her little gesture gave him before waving back and letting the door shut behind him.

—------

“We’ve got a fantastic show for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get some guests on!”

Pedro hears the roar of the audience, only a single wall between them and him as he waits to hear his name. He looks around the room; Robert and Kate are stood with him, chatting away at something he’d stopped listening to a little while ago. He felt better now he’d met them - they were lovely, so down to earth and genuinely happy to chat to him and hear what he had to say. It made him less nervous, and you might even say he was looking forward to this now.

There was no sign of her though. The singer - (Y/N). Alicia had scoffed, “typical,” just 10 minutes earlier, when there had been no sign. And she still wasn’t here.

“We’ve got the newly Emmy-nominated actor, best known for his amazing roles in The Mandalorian and HBO’s The Last Of us,” the audience’s roars got louder, “Mr. Pedro Pascal!”

It’s time.

He pulls his suit jacket a little tighter around himself, laying his palm flat against the bottom of his chest. With the other hand, he waves, smiling brightly at the crowd who cheered him on. Graham greets him, pulling him in for a hug and welcoming him back, before pointing him towards the end of the couch. Pedro gives the audience a final wave, mouthing ‘thank you’s and trying to express his gratitude for the love that filled the room.

Kate and Robert came next, shaking his hand and ‘introducing’ themselves again, despite the fact he’d already met them an hour earlier. A producer runs up to Graham, whispering something in his ear before darting off in the other direction. Graham rolls his eyes playfully, turning towards the audience and announcing, “we’ve got a late one!” The audience laugh, and Graham just organises his cue cards as producers usedthe extra time to prepare the camera angles and get the lighting right.

Graham looks at the couch, smiling with a wink. “Don’t worry - she’ll be here in a minute.”

“Is this (Y/N) again?” Robert asks, grinning.

“You’ve met her?” Pedro jumps in, falling into small talk among the four of them.

“A couple of times now yeah,” Robert replies. “I think she’s great, really funny. She's just… not the most put together person.”

They laugh, and Kate recounts her own story of having to wait on some celebrity or another, entertaining the crowd.

Graham parts from the conversation after around 10 minutes, holding a finger to his ear piece and nodding at whatever he was being told from the other end of the line. He stands up, smiling wide and turning to the audience, “she’s here! We have our rockstar ready.”

Cheers immediately erupt, and Graham turns to the guests to check they’re all ready to carry on with the show. Pedro nods, anticipation building as he spots Alicia from the corner of his eye, keeping watch.

“And don’t worry everyone, we’ll cut that little intermission out!” The room laughs. “Now I’m very glad introduce our last, but certainly not least, guest of the night. She’s the lead singer of Grammy-nominated band The Heartbreakers, she’s one of the most famous women in the world right now, and she’s only a tad terrifying. Ladies and gentleman, please welcome - (Y/N) (L/N)!

The audience becomes the loudest they’ve been all night, standing and yelling as the final guest takes the stage, and -

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s her. The woman from outside, the one he’d been thinking about all afternoon. The one whose name he never learned.

She looks different; she looks like the woman he’d been warned about. She looks dangerous. Where a black hoodie had hung from her shoulders, a black lace dress now clung to her figure and he could see the tattoos that littered her sleeveless arms. The bags under her eyes were gone, as was the pink on her cheeks; her skin was painted, perfected, sculpted with darker shades and glowing radiantly. Her lips were black and glossy, so neatly done that she almost looked like a doll. Thick eyeliner carried a smoky shadow across her eyelid and beyond, drowning the same (Y/E/C) eyes he’d memorised in black.

She was ethereal.

And she was his one, single instruction for the night. Don’t get involved in her.

She waves at the audience, smirking in the same sly way she’d done to him earlier; he saw more clearly that they were the same now. She has the same charm, same charisma, same allure and yet she seems all the more potent now as she strides across the stage in 6 inch heels and pulls Graham into a tight hug, like old friends. She whispers something in his ear, and he throws his head back with a laugh before she saunters to the couch, where the three guests stand up to greet her. She and Kate introduce one another with a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile, before she gives Robert another tight hug and they share a word that Pedro can hear now. “I have to stay here an extra 10 minutes ‘cos of you” Robert quips, causing (Y/N) to pull back and look at him with a cocked brow.

“You know I’m worth it, Downey.”

With that, she turns to face Pedro, and his breath hitches the same way it did when they’d first met. Her grin falters slightly, and there it is again; that honesty. She almost seemed like she was putting on a show, with her slow saunter and cheeky remarks, but there was nothing false about the way she wrapped her arms around him and looked into his eyes.

“My name’s (Y/N).”

He just laughs. He can’t help it. She makes him feel giddy. “I know.”

The audience’s applause dies down, and (Y/N) takes her spot as the star guest, and the first on the couch closest the Graham. He talks between them and the crowd, commenting on what a great line up they had today, despite certain delays, which has the audience howling again. (Y/N) laughs with them, shaking her head and pretending to cover her face with her hand, before looking up at Graham and saying, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? I got held up!”

“Well you have to tell us what happened,” Graham retorts, and they banter as (Y/N) recounts getting stuck in the backstage toilets. She has everyone wrapped around her finger, listening to everything she says and laughing at her jokes, and Pedro can’t find himself believing the warnings Alicia had given him.

He remembers Bella, and how much praise they had for her, and he gets it. He sees what they see.

“Well you’re here now, that’s all that matters. We actually haven’t seen you for a while!”

(Y/N) nods, her demeanour becoming slightly more serious. “No, it’s been a strange few months.”

Graham continues, “the last time you were on the show was 2021. And obviously as most of us here know, you've had quite a difficult time since then, right? Tell me how you’ve been.”

She takes a sharp breath, and Pedro could’ve sworn she glanced up at him before she answers. “Well, yeah. I’m sure it’s no surprise to anyone that I was struggling with addiction for… most of my career, really.”

“‘No surprise’?” - Graham interjects - “you used to get high on stage!” It seemed judgemental, but it quickly became clear that he and (Y/N) had that sort of friendship, the kind where you can talk to one another so blatantly. She purses her lips at him, and he giggles, which makes her break the feigned offence and giggle too.

“Look, man, that’s rock and roll.” The room laughs again. “No but seriously, yeah, it just got worse and worse until… well, you know what happened. it was hard. But I’ve gotten clean, I haven’t touched that shit in what, 8 months?” The crowd launch into cheers and applause, echoed by Graham and the other guests. Pedro could see how much it meant to her, how she tried to keep a stoic appearance despite the tears beginning to glisten in her eyes. She mouths a thank you, and he longs to skip right past Robert and Kate to be by her side, to hold her. She recovers quickly, something Pedro notes she seems to do a lot; cover her moments of weakness as soon as they start. Instead she sits up straighter and jokes, “I think everyone’s worried I’m gonna be boring now, without the drugs.”

Graham laughs, “I mean, you are known for being one of the more controversial artists out there.”

“If anything, I think being high slowed me down. I’m just gonna get worse, now.”

“Oh god, don’t say that,” Graham jokes, “you’re going on tour again soon, I’m not sure we can handle it.”

The audience cheer even louder at the mention of the tour, making (Y/N)’s smile grow wider. “Yep, new album, new tour. It’s all happening.”

Graham turns to Pedro suddenly, as if remembering he had three other guests to rope into the conversation. “Do you listen to this sort of music, Pedro? The Heartbreakers?”

And, shit. Pedro can feel Alicia’s eyes burning into him from off-stage, and he recalls her warnings about this very situation.

Don’t make friends with her

Don’t give the media something to talk about

Don’t ruin your reputation

And yet, her voice got quieter and quieter in his head, as the sound of (Y/N)’s laugh and the pierce of her eyes became all he could think about. The decision was pretty easy to make, really.

“I actually hadn’t heard of them, until today.” Graham chuckles at his reply. “But I think I’ll have to start listening.”

The crowd cheer, and the pair lock eyes for what could’ve only been a few seconds, but felt like so much longer. She tries to fight the way the corners of her mouth pull upwards, white teeth poking through painted black lips, but when she sees him smiling back at her she lets them go and drowns in the butterflies she’s so unused to feeling.

God, he was in so much trouble.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x yn #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #poeticbarnes writes #my stuff #my writing #pedro pascal oneshot #pedro pascal fluff

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prettylittlels · 4 months

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Special Night

summary: while performing your latest song, Houdini, at the Golden Globes, your performance drives people crazy.

(tom blyth x singer!reader)

a/n: this song has been stuck in my head for the past few weeks and i needed to make a scenario w it. hope you like it!

ps: i'm akso running out of ideas so please send requests!!!

🪻🪩🌃🔮🎶

Tonight, I'm going to perform at the golden globes gala. My latest song, Houdini, has captured everyone's attention and soared thorugh the billboard Top 100. The problem isn't performing the song: I know every lyric and practised every detail of the choreography to the brim. The problem is who I'm performing it to. Hundreds of celebrities I admire and thousands and thousands of people around the world are going to be watching me sing.

-Y/n!- my manager interrupts my thoughts -You're on in two-

-Thanks, Diane - I say back, and start my vocal exercises.

In the middle of my preparation, I listen the host of the night announce my appearance. I smoothen out my little black dress and, slowly, I make my way to the stage. The lights are low and I still can't see anything farther than the edge of the stage. My earbud informs me the song will start in 3, 2, 1...

I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

The crowd immediately starts roaring as the song plays for the first time. My choreography is catching everyone's eye. I feel the confidence soaring inside of me. This wasn't so bad as I thought it would be, huh?

I come and I go

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows

Catch me or I go Houdini

The celebrities in front of me stand up one by one and dance to the rythm of the music. Since I was well known for interacting a lot with fans during concerts, why not do the same thing now?

Time is passin' like a solar eclipse

I descend the stairs in one of the stage's corners and the crowd screams even more. Searching for someone to dance with, I find first Anya Taylor Joy, dressed in a beautiful pale blue gown, singing along with me.

See you watchin' and you blow me a kiss

It's your moment, baby, don't let it slip

Come in closer, are you readin' my lips?

I make eye contact with her and blow her a kiss, following the lyrics. Her cheeks go red and laughs with me. I go closer to her and keep on singing along, until I signal to her to look at the camera and strike a pose with me.

They say I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows

Catch me or I go Houdini

Moving on from Anya, I walk up a couple tables more. Next, I set my eyes on Pedro Pascal, dancing to the rythm with his eyes closed. I look surprised and the camera points towards where I'm looking. The crowd laughs as we dance together.

If you're good enough, you'll find a way

Maybe you could cause a girl to change her ways

Do you think about it night and day?

Maybe you could be the one to make me stay

Pedro spins me around sloppily and I sing and I give him a kiss on the cheek and continue walking down the carpeted hall. The choreography makes an appearance again, with a sexy twist: I drop to my knees suddenly and sing the bridge. I get up again and the most beautiful man fills my vision.

Everything you say is soundin' so sweet (ah)

But do you practice everything that you preach? (Ah)

I stare and get closer to him while singing. He sends a big gummy smile towards me and I try to keep my composure. I notice he's sitting next to Hunter Schafer, my good friend. I make a mental reminder to ask her about it later.

I need something that'll make me believe (ah)

If you got it, baby, give it to me

I walk a little more until I'm looking down at his face and bend down while still singing. Out of impulse, I grab his chin gently and bring him in closer so it looks likr we're kissing. Our lips graze each other's and I feel like an electric discharge electrocuted my entire body. I pull away at the last second and continue walking and dancing, trying not to come back to him.

They say I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go (I come and I go)

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows (I'm not here for long)

Catch me or I go Houdini

Everyone's mouths are open after my little stunt. I smirk to myself and I decide that's it for today.

If you're good enough, you'll find a way

Maybe you could cause a girl to change her ways

Do you think about it night and day?

Maybe you could be the one to make me stay

I go up the stairs one last time to finish off the performance. The people are cheering for me again. But right now, I only care about one of them now. I search for the mystery man with my eyes all over the place, he's nowhere to be found.

I come and I go

Tell me all the ways you need me

I'm not here for long

Catch me or I go Houdini

I come and I go (I come and I go)

Prove you got the right to please me

Everybody knows (I'm not here for long)

Catch me or I go Houdini

Screams and shouts fill the space when I finish the song. The camera focuses on the people who I've danced with and projects it onto the screens. First, Anya appears smiling and waves to the cameraman. Later, Pedro is still giddy from dancing and whoops loudly. Finally, Tom Blyth, as it says on the bottom of the screen, is clapping like everyone else. There are rests of a blush in his cheeks, but when he looks at the camera, he winks at it and lifts his hand with his pinky and thumb up, signaling a phone, mouthing the words "call me".

The camera switches back to me. I blow the last kiss to the audience and, before leaving, I make a "T" with my hands, and after a second I create a heart.

#Spotify #book recommendations #bookworm #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #x reader #tom blyth #singer!reader

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babygirlispunk · 1 year

Text

Summer Fling - PART ONE

Pedro Pascal X f!Reader

Summary: living in a completely different hemisphere, you didn’t expect to bump into Pedro Pascal at a music festival.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: Reader is not physically or ethnically described but is Australian. Honestly inspired by my own summer romance I experienced when I was younger with a guy who happened to be Latino lol. This is just quickly written to get over my jitters and get confidence to post other stuff SO ITS PROBALY A BIT MESSY SORRY.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

The ground is vibrating beneath you feet, your ears are ringing from hours of listening to loud music for days. The temperature has cooled down from the summer sun with the night sky. Bodies glisten with sweat, dancing in the crowded space as you're all harmoniously vibing and singing to RUFUS. Everyone's either drunk or high, sloppily hanging off one another or shouting aloud enthusiastically.

It's New Years Eve, 10 or so minutes from midnight. You can't believe your seeing one of your favourite bands live and an absolute banger of a song is playing right now and you can't help but raise your hands into the air and dance your heart out, shouting the lyrics not caring how scratchy your voice is from singing along with different singers and bands for the past 3 days.

You manage to hear your name being called out next to you. It's your best friend Syria. You two managed to lose the rest of your group when squeezing your way further to the front wanting to get into the heart of the crowd and the vibe.

She leans in closer so you can hear her over the pounding music. "I reckon we should get to the very front before midnight hits."

"Why don't we ask someone if we can sit on their shoulders?" you yell back.

You both look around to find any guy or girl that would be willing to hold you and Syria up but most people are already paired up or in groups leaving the creepy looking ones left that would probably feel you up.

Bodies keep dancing around you as you duck and weave your way through to the front. You quickly make it, motivated by the words 'You were right' booming from the speakers and the singer announcing that New Years is drawing in. As you emerge to your new spot you bump with some guy passing a quick sorry and turning your attention to the stage. Both happy with how close you are, you wrap your arm around Syria's shoulder and she wraps hers around your waist. You scream-sing, jumping up and down together getting hyped, probably sounding like squealing pigs, when you just hear a laugh next to you.

(Highly recommend listening to You Were Right - RUFUS DU SOL for the next part, for the vibe)

You look where it came from and connect with gorgeous chocolate brown eyes accessorised by glasses, paired with a wide cheesy grin framed by a scruffy, patchy beard and unkempt curly hair. He must've been the guy you bumped... Being polite, you smile back and turn back to the stage singing with Syria.

But it hits you like a brick wall and you double take. You look back to see the guy talking to their friend, up close as they talk into each others ears. Colourful lights bounce off him from the stage and you focus on his face, confirming who it is.

"Syria!" You hiss into her ear but she's too entranced by the music to notice so you give her a shake under your arm and gives you a 'what' face.

"You would not believe who is next to me!" She gives you a confused look then peeks in front of you to look at him, returning to face you with eyes as big as an owl.

Without wasting a breath she shoves you into his direction and you trip over yourself and bump into him again, basically landing on him but he ever so gracefully catches you, hooking his hands underneath your armpits.

"Woah there, had a bit too much to drink have we?" he chimes out loud.

You're embarrassed and can only blurt out a no.

"Sorry about that, those guys next to us knocked us over." Syria covers for you.

"Assholes." he looks at you, still held in his strong hands, smiling sweetly.

He brings you back to your feet and you turn around to say your thanks but your close. Really close. Face to face. Your eyes flicker at every point of his face, really soaking in every detail your buzzed out brain can retain till you land on his eyes. They're looking down at you're lips before they flick up and lock with yours. They're so deep and gorgeous, you could just dive and swim in them

"Thanks." you manage to say despite your heart is beating violently inside your ribcage. He winks back with a cheeky grin making you blush as you turn back to face the stage. The song keeps pumping around you and Syria is dancing and singing her little heart out.

He stands right besides you now and you can feel his hand brushing against your arm as you both dance on the spot. You can feel the goosebumps travelling up your arm as he keeps touching and nudging you. You can't help yourself but steal a glance at him only to see him doing the same, biting your lip, saving yourself from giggling like a little girl. That damn smile hasn't left his face.

The massive crowd surrounding you start screaming out the minute countdown and you join in trying to distract yourself from the closing proximity between the two of you. Try as you might, you still keep looking at him in the corner of your eye only to see him doing the same.

30 seconds left.

A hand gently glides around your waist followed by a body pressing against to your side sending a chill through your body and the butterflies are released, fluttering wildly in your stomach.

20 seconds left.

You look up at him, he's looking forward at the stage bobbing his head pretending like he isn't pulling your body towards him right now. He's clearly showing his interest, there's no point chickening out now.

You snake your hand underneath his loose tee and wrap your arm along his back, placing your hand on his hip using your thumb to caress the skin on his back.

He turns his gaze to you with a smirk on his face and squeezes his hand holding your waist making you gulp down.

10 seconds left.

He bends down so that his mouth grazes your ear ever so softly.

"I was wondering if you would be my new years kiss?"

He moves his face in front of yours, just a breath away, waiting for your answer.

"Are you sure?" was all you could manage.

"Why not start the year kissing a gorgeous girl?" he inches closer to you, nose tips brushing.

You're both breathing heavy, both of your eyes fliting between each others eyes and mouth. Breaths brushing each others skin.

You turn your bodies to face one another. Moving your arms around his neck, his hands not losing contact with your waist, squeezing your lower half closer to his, pelvis' coming in contact inciting a flutter down there.

The song drops and lips crash into one another, the impact cushioned by his plush lips, you feel euphoric. This all surreal even with Syria screaming her lungs out behind you along with cheers from the masses.

You feel the heat of fireworks and sparklers set off from the stage as everyone celebrates the new year but it doesn't compare to the fire burning inside you as he pulls you in tighter making your chests rub against each other as you two are hungrily trying to taste one another. He swipes his tongue along your lips as an invitation to deepen the kiss and you let him in immediately. As your tongues dance together, tasting each others choice of alcohol, you feel his nose tickle against your cheek.

Not wanting to pull away, you inhale and exhale through your nose and you are enveloped by his smell, his sweet musky smell. He is like a damn drug and you're already addicted. Wanting more you tangle your fingers through his hair, desperately trying to bring him in closer, deeper than physically possible.

You're becoming overwhelmed by it all that a moan slips out of you, passing though and exchanged to his lips. You try not to over think it but you feel a slight smile form on his lips as he devour you, returning the moan back for you to inhale. His hand drops to your ass, kneading them in his fists and pulling you even closer than you thought possible letting you grind up his hard rump forming underneath his thick jeans and your core slickens fast.

Not wanting let go but starving for oxygen, you eventually pull back, not letting go of your bodies. He is also out of breath, shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

“What’s your name?”

You say your name through shallow breaths and he repeats it after you. You feel excitement hearing him say it out aloud, making your own name sound like liquid gold oozing from his mouth. Still getting your breath back, be gently nudges his nose on yours, pecking you and not wanting to lose the space between you, eyes never leaving yours.

“Would you come back to my tent* with me? Get away from this crowd and prying eyes…” he says almost desperately asking as his lips keep pecking yours, knowing exactly what he’s really asking.

You nod in agreement and he smiles that sickly sweet smile. Moving his hands from your ass, he threads his hands into yours and turns to his small friend group speaking with each other. You then realise they had watched the little show you two had put on. Then you feel like something is missing.

Syria.

You look all around in the surrounding crowd of singing and dancing bodies but you can’t find her. She’s missing. Letting go of his hand, you continue looking around getting on your top toes, jumping to look over peoples heads. You call out her name but she’s no where to be seen. Every worse case scenario runs through your head. Your group made one rule to follow during this festival.

Never ditch your buddy.

A wide hand grips around your wrist, giving you a slight fright till you remember who it was connected to, following his body till your met with his puppy dog eyes.

“My friend is missing, I need to find her, make sure she’s okay.” You say frantically.

“Let me help you.”

“No no it’s okay.” There was no way you were going to drag an A-list celeb around massive festival grounds swarmed with thousands of people that could horde him, away from the safety of his own friends.

“Are you sure?” He brings you in closer wrapping his arms around your waist as if locking you to him and you hold onto his arms, getting a good feel of how toned they are. You look at his lips, swollen from your kiss, hungry for more but you had priorities…

Giving him one last kiss, you keep it sweet and simple, lingering there for a moment fighting the urge the stay. “It was nice meeting you Pedro.”

As you pull away he give you a sad smile to pair with his puppy eyes. Turning away, shattered your moment was cut short, you weave through the crowd looking for Syria.

You circle round the crazy crowd, desperately looking for Syria but to no avail. You whip out your phone fumbling fingers on the screen trying to call her. Reception on its last bar unsurprisingly but by some miracle she answers. You hear your name from the other side but it’s staticky and broken, repeating over and over again as you try to call her name on your end.

Barely making out the words over the static and loud music pounding around you before it eventually hangs up. You look at your screen, call failed.

You growl in frustration, till a hand grabs your shoulder. Twisting around hoping to see his face, you’re sadly met with your friend Joey.

“Hey we’ve been looking for you!” He yells over the music.

“I’ve been looking for Syria!” You yell back.

He rolls his eyes and grabs your hand and leads you.

Once you’ve reach the back of the crowd, the music is less rattling and people are more spread out, laying on the grass, too drunk or too high, you spot of friend group with Syria.

“There you are! I thought you were kidnapped or something.” You give her a big hug, relieved.

“Oh my God no! I spotted some of the group in the crowd and went to get them so they could witness you getting with your celeb crush!”

“I still don’t believe it. Could be a look alike” Huffs Joey.

“Well luckily I took a pic.” Syria proudly unlocks her phone and shows everyone the photo.

It’s blurry and all you can see is your back facing the camera with the top of Pedro’s head next to yours. The butterflies from before flutter again as you see he’s arm wrapped tight around your waist and his hand gripping your ass.

“Can’t see shit Syria.” Someone else says.

“Fuck off.” Syria shoves the person and turns her attention to you. “I’m sorry I ditched you. Didn’t mean to scare you and ruin your moment. Literally the one time it really mattered. Now you probably won't see him again.”

You give her a big hug knowing she didn’t ditch intentionally. “All good. Just glad knowing you're alive and not kidnapped by weirdos.”

“You hot bitch, you hooked up with Pedro fucking Pascal!” She squeals his name and jumping like an energized puppy, overly excited for you.

You laugh out loud, still not quite comprehending it actually happened despite your skin still hot from his touch, the tingle lingering below and your lips swollen from your intense pash. You bite your bottom lip, reminiscing.

“What a way to start the year.”

MASTERLIST - NEXT

check out my recs list for stories written by people with actual talent ♡

A/N: Multiple day festivals in Australia, typically, people camp at the festival site with tents, camper vans etc. and depending on the festival, they sometimes have the VIP tents with working facilities that cost an extra pretty penny AKA glampin' so he’s chilling in that 👍🏼

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader

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dre6ming · 1 year

Text

TDBR - the Oscars

TDBR series

Masterlist

TDBR imagines Masterlist - short stories

Instagram photo dump masterlist

To be added to my tag list click HERE

Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/ actress fem reader

Warning: fluff

Plot: after Austin wins his award you bump into his ex girlfriend into the Oscars bathroom.

Word count: 2000

Disclaimer: everything fake, no shade no nothing, just respect for all parties and remember this is all FICTIONAL

"Baby, I'll just go to the bathroom ok? I'll find you after?" I whisper to Austin who turns his head to smile at me. "Sure honey, you feeling ok?" He asks, his attention, that was previously directed at the lady engraving his name on the golden statue, now fully directed to me. "Yes, I just need to use the toilet." I explain, caressing his shoulder, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze. "Ok, be careful!" I see him lean down to kiss me, but we are still not public so I take it upon myself to dodge the kiss. "Sorry." He mumbles, looking apologetic. "That's ok, see you soon!" I wave at him before turning around on my heels and finding my way to the bathroom.

I've got to admit it's pretty crazy, even now after all the success I've had in my career, to see myself surrounded by all these people I looked up to. I look to my right and there is Jamie Lee Curtis talking to Robert De Niro, so I have to stop for a second to just gawk at them. But only for a second, cause I don't want to be caught being a weird fangirl. As I keep walking trying to redeem myself, I bump into Pedro Pascal on the way. He and I are going to be starring in a new HBO series called "The last of us". We already filmed a couple of scenes but he and I have yet to be on set together. "Pedro, hi how are you?" He smiles at me. "I'm good good, you were incredible up there, looking fantastic. A big slay I'd say!" I can't help but laugh a bit too hard, resulting in a funny sound to come out of my nose. "Oh my, Ped, that's that's exactly right." I giggle wiping some tears from the corners of my eyes. "Listen I was on my way to the bathroom, so excuse me. Oh I almost forgot are you coming to Baz's after party? I think I send you the invite didn't I?" I ask. "Yes yes of course I'm coming, gotta watch out for my little girl." Pedro jokes, making us laugh at how serious he's taken to the role of the father figure for my character. "Ok dad." I scream running past him laughing. At this rate I'm collecting fathers like they're infinity stones.

The bathroom is not as full as I expected, that's mostly because all the big categories have been announced by now and a lot of people left for the after parties already. It's a bit tricky getting to do what I need to do in the long dark blue sequence dress, but I manage. I take a good look at myself in the mirror as I'm washing my hands, taking note that a bit of my mascara smudged, so I use a clean tissue paper to wipe that off.

"Excuse me?" A voice calls out as I'm concentrating on getting the mascara situation under control. I toss the tissue in the trash and turn around to see who was call me. I'm stunned the second I'm face to face with the person who just spoke. "(Y/n), oh my goodness I thought that was you, who else would wear a huge navy sequence dress." I can't believe my eyes, Vanessa Hudgens is standing in front of me, looking gorgeous in her black skin fitted dress. "Oh, um hi!" I put my hand out to shake, but she surprises me by pulling me into a tight hug. "You look so beautiful tonight by the way, I wanted to get to talk to you on the carpet, but you were caught up with other interviewers. I didn't want to crowd you." To be honest I avoided her on the carpet on purpose, sure my relationship with Austin isn't yet confirmed to the public and all, but the rumors are there and I'm sure she's seen most if not all of them. "Oh yeah, I was pretty crowded. It's a bummer I didn't get to talk to you, you always give such great interviews." I say, meaning every word, because in truth she is amazing at interviewing people and to not admit that would be a blasphemy. I wasn't avoiding her because I have something against her, in fact I'm actually a big admirer of hers. Austin told how things went down between them and I trust him, from his side nothing bad went down, but there was heartbreak and hurt so I can only imagine that for her it was at least as painful as it was for him, if not worse.

"That's ok, I'm sure we'll get to do it for another carpet, maybe at the Met this year if you're going." She's so sweet. "I think I am, it really depends on how my filming schedule goes."

"Oh hell yeah I saw you and Pedro Pascal got cast for that HBO series, congrats." I blush at all the compliments she's directing my way, toying with the necklace around my neck. "Vanessa, I-" the words just don't seem to come out of my mouth, because frankly I don't even know what I want to say. She seems to understand that I'm having a hard time communicating what I want to say and her features soften as her big smile comes a soft smirk. "Listen, I've seen the rumors, I don't hold it against you or him, if they are true. He was an amazing boyfriend and well maybe we both could've done better to stay together, but I don't think it was meant to be." I can see she speaks from the heart. "I just, I know his side of things, he only has good things to say about you, but.."

"Honey if the one thing holding you back is me, I want you to know you have my full support. Austin deserves to be happy, doesn't matter who it's the one taking care of that as long as he's happy." I'm surprised to say the least, but I think coming off of what Austin told me about her, I expected this kind of reaction from her. "That's so nice of you to say, I just-" she shushes me when the door opens and someone comes in. "Let's go out." She motions her head towards the door, looping her arm around mine and leading me out. "Thank you!" I whisper to her.

"So I need you to know there's no bad blood." She tells me truthfully. "I believe you, but with everything going on I just, I'm scared of people finding out and I don't know how much longer we can keep it under wraps, I mean you saw him." Vanessa seems to understand exactly what I mean. "Longing stares and tight hugs. Oh we've all seen him, you are clearly the better one at hiding all this." I laugh nervously, wondering just how bad Austin is making things look from an outside perspective. "It's not too bad." She chimes in, probably reading my thoughts. "Eh I can try and fool myself, but... in the end we will make it public so there's no more speculations, but we don't want that to overshadow our careers, so we wanted for award season to be over." I explain one of the reasons we're being so private. "I get that. Oh and here comes lover boy." She says looking over my shoulder and before I can turn my neck to look behind me, a hand settles on my hip. "Hey Nessa, what's up?" Austin says, pulling me closer to him.

Vanessa notices the small gesture, throwing me a knowing look. "Nothing much, just talking to (y/n). Congratulations by the way, it was well deserved!" She says, gesturing to the award he's holding in his other hand. "Did they engrave it?" I ask, looking down at it. "Yes, look how cool it looks." Austin says excitedly, holding it up for me to read. "Did they spell your name wrong?" I ask faking concern. "What?" He panics immediately taking a closer look at the award. I can't help but burst out laughing at him. "You little minx!" He teases kissing my cheek, before I get the chance to dodge it this time. "Austin!" I warn looking around worried someone might've noticed. "Sorry." He says quietly.

"Don't be, you look cute together. You actually seem very happy Aus, I'm glad for you. I have to get going now, but I wish you both the best. Have a good one!" She says. "Thank V, you look happy too, I saw you were engaged, how's that?" Austin asks her. His question makes me look down at her left hand, where there is in fact a big beautiful diamond ring. "He makes me happy. I'm glad we both got to be in love again. It suits you." Her words make me wonder how can she see that he's in love with me. I look at his face and don't see anything that could scream 'I'm in love', but like on cue he feels me looking at him, so he turns his head to me. That's when I see it, that glimmer in his eyes, the one that not only screams 'I'm in love' but also it projects it out into the world. "Yeah I think it does. She's the one thing that got me through this whole thing. I have you to thank for all of this, so thank you!" Austin tells her and I can see his words touched her.

"You're welcome Austin, send me an invite to the wedding." Vanessa says, giving him a quick hug and disappearing into the crowd. Wedding? His wedding? With me? She couldn't have meant that? Right? "What's wrong? Did she say anything?" Austin looks over my face and I catch myself in his eyes, looking terrified. "Oh no, no, she was actually really sweet." I avert my eyes from him, this way preventing him from looking straight into my soul as he usually does. "Then..? Oh was it the wedding comment?" Austin catches on either way. I blush deeply and try to shake my head, but there's no point in denying. "Honey she meant that as a joke, ok? I'm not proposing. Not now at least."

Not now, so he's thought about this. "Not now?" The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I mean, maybe sometime in the future." Austin clarifies licking his lips anxiously. "Not the near future.." he keeps going hoping to calm me. "(Y/n) I know it’s too soon, but I can't lie and say that I haven't thought about marrying you, ok? I have and I know we are not ready yet."

"Yet? Ok but how will you know when I'm ready? Cause you might be ready faster than I am, since your older and I don't expect you to wait for me." Austin chuckles, brushing back his hair. "Honey, I would wait for you a thousand years and then a thousand more. And if you never want to get married, that's fine too. Now what do you say we go home and change to go to Baz's party?" Austin caresses my cheek, smiling softly at me. "Ok." I sigh, holding my dress up and walking towards the exit where Matt waits for us to drive us back to Austin's place so we could get changed for the after party.

"Can you believe I won this?" Austin asks still looking in disbelief at his award as I lean my head on his shoulder, looking down at the golden prize in his hand. "I can." I say, kissing his neck, feeling his hot skin against my red lips. "Now you're mine." I giggle as I lick my thumb to help clean off the red lip stain. "No, leave it." He says taking my hand and holding my knuckles. "Ok my winner! I love you!" I close my eyes and relax next to him. "I love you too!" Austin tells me kissing the top of my head, letting me lean on him.

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writersblog20 · 1 year

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Let’s make some music part 1

Pedro Pascal x singer reader

Fluff version

Summary: As a singer, Pedro has been your biggest fan and after some ‘inspiration’ you’ve got just the right idea to surprise him with

Warnings: Mention of smut, aftercare, fluff, mention of anxiety. Mostly just teeth rotting fluff

Words: 2,8K

A/N: I’m not Spanish but tried to make it work with translation so if there are any mistakes, I’m very sorry. There is a smut version in the making!

Let’s make some music part 1

You were an upcoming artist. You’ve worked in the movie industry as a second director for tv shows and movies. That’s how you met your boyfriend Pedro. But you wanted more. You really liked the idea of making music and produce it. Your current genre was R&B and female empowerment type of music. The type of music to get your feminine side more to the front. Think of the music of SZA, Yaya bey, Jhené Aiko and many more great artists like them. That was the genre you went to, the high vibrational music.

So here you were, in your own make shift studio to record an album and Pedro kept fishing to hear something, extremely curious as to what you made of it. You told him that after finishing your first song, he would be the first to hear it and he couldn’t contain his excitement. And that moment was now. You were beyond nervous and considered just stopping because it scared you so much. Pedro never heard you really sing, at least not like this.

You walked nervously into the garden, where Pedro was sitting in a chair, in the sun, reading his script. You walked up to him and he looked up from hearing you. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you and immediately smiled. He put the script away for a sec and hinted for you to sit on his lap. His arms around you as he peppered your face with kisses, making you giggle. “I finished the song… You want to hear it?” you asked him nervously and he picked up on your nerves but his eyes lit up like nothing before as excitement took over. “Of course! I can’t wait to hear it! Let’s go!” he told you excitingly and it helped with your nerves. You stood up with Pedro and before you could move, his hands were on your waist. “But first, give me a kiss sweetheart.” You smiled and kissed him tenderly.

You held his hand and led him into your studio. You sat him down in the chair and Pedro hinted again to sit in his lap, which you gladly did. You sat sideways on his lap, your knees up while he drew circles with his finger on your knee and on your back. He couldn’t stop smiling and you played the song.

You felt your nerves go up but the moment Pedro’s eyes started lighting up even more and looked with the utter most adoration at you. “Baby…. This…. this is amazing!” he told you halfway through the song and the best part was still to come. You started smiling as well and felt flustered the way Pedro looked at you in complete awe. The moment that the best part came, Pedro was blown away by your talent. “Oh my god…. Look… You are already a goddess, empowered woman but this…. This is just high vibrational goddess energy and when I thought, I couldn’t love you more, you keep surprising me! I love you so much and this song…. Please make an album, I’m begging you!” he told the last part whining as a joke, making you laugh. You felt so moved by Pedro’s words and that was all the encouragement you needed, because if he didn’t like it, he would be honest with you. “No but I’m serious. This really is amazing and you have so much potential and talent. You need to shine your light and you do that by this music. Release this song and then make an album because this is going to bring you places you’ve never thought of. It’s amazing Y/N and I mean that. I have the upmost adoration for you and I’m your biggest fan!” You felt flustered and shy from his words.

“Thank you Pedge. I never could’ve done this without your support!” Pedro chuckled. “You deserve to be seen. The light you radiate is helping people and I’m sure that this song, is going make people feel really good. Trust me!” You smiled and cupped his cheeks lovingly. Your thumb softly rubbing his cheek as he blushed. You put your lips lovingly on his. Pedro moved you so your legs were on both sides, chest to chest while the kiss deepened and got more heated by the moment. He got out of the kiss for a moment and looked at you with blown pupils. “I love you.” he told you and you felt your heart softly melt. He kissed you again and it was so sensual this time. Pedro cupped your cheek softly, his other hand on your lower back, pushing you closer to his body. Your lips felt raw from the sensual kiss. You softly bit his lip and at that moment Pedro pushed you even closer to his body, making you softly grind on his lap and he deepened the kiss, moaning into your mouth. You felt high by the electricity, your whole body covered in goosebumps because of the effect he had on you, how sensual he was with you.

“Let’s get you to the couch baby, I’m hungry.” He told you, voice husk. You chuckled and kissed him again. Pedro stood up, his hands underneath your ass as he carried you to the couch.

~time skip~

You collapsed on Pedro’s chest, heavily breathing and both covered in sweat. Pedro’s hair sticked to his forehead and you softly went with your hand through his damp hair. The windows a bit condensed because of the heat of earlier. You laid down on Pedro’s chest, your fingers softly drawing circles on his bare chest. His arms lazily draped over your naked body as he softly stroke your spine with his fingertips. He tucked the blanket more up so you wouldn’t get cold and kissed the top of your head. You looked up, your eyes meeting his brown, loving and kind eyes. You connected your lips to his, needing him closer. Pedro cupped your cheeks and kissed you back, still a bit out of breath. “You okay mi amor?” Pedro asked you softly. You nodded and looked at him with a lazy smile. “Yeah, just tired.” You told him and Pedro looked with adoration at you. “Let’s get cleaned up and get you into bed.” He told you, sitting carefully up, with you in his arms. You hummed in content. Pedro gathered the clothes and gave you your shirt quickly. You put it back on and Pedro wrapped the blanket around your shoulders.

Pedro guided you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the bed for a sec since your legs were still wobbly. He walked to the bathroom to turn the hot water on for a warm bath. He put all the nice things into the bathtub that you loved. Some oil that smelled nice, bath salt, bath bomb, just anything that made you feel good.

“I’ll be right back, Cariño” you nodded as he walked downstairs. You heard the water filling up the bathtub and Pedro was back in no time with a bottle of wine and two glasses and some strawberries. He smiled lovingly at you. “Come on baby girl” he nodded to the bathroom. You stood up and Pedro immediately threw an arm around your shoulder, wanting you near.

When you arrived into the bathroom, you saw that he had lit the candles, put the fresh, clean robes down, soft music playing in the background and you immediately felt peace. “Thank you Pedge.” Pedro placed his fingers underneath your chin, grabbing it slightly and gave you a kiss. “Anything for you, mi amor”.

Pedro helped you first to take of your shirt and underwear and quickly took off his ‘remaining’ clothes. Pedro stepped in first in the bathtub, holding your hand and guided you with his help into the bathtub. Once you were in, Pedro sat down and helped you sit down as well, making sure you wouldn’t slip. You leaned your back against his chest, the warmth of the bath and Pedro’s chest was enough to make you visibly relax into the man you loved so much.

His arm around your shoulder, keeping you close while he poured the wine in the glasses with his other hand. He handed you your glass of wine and poured one for himself. You leaned more back against Pedro and absolutely enjoyed this attention and love to the max. It seemed Pedro wanted and needed you just as much as you needed him right now. Just want to be around each other, never losing physical contact. He needed to hold you close right now and you needed to be held. You slouched more against his chest and now both arms were around your body.

“I love you so much Pedge.” You told him with your eyes closed, enjoying the contact. Pedro couldn’t contain the smile that you brought to his face. His eyes slightly watering. “Baby, I love you so much. You have no idea.” He told you and let his lips rest on your head. You softly rubbed his arm that was around your body, your hand going over his that held you around your waist. Pedro turned his hand over and took it in his, linking your fingers linking through each other. You heard the rain getting more violent as it splattered on the windows, thunder in the distance and you felt almost high from how relaxed you were. You sipped your wine and Pedro let go of your hand, going softly over your arms with his fingertips, sending more goosebumps over your body as he moved up.

His hands landed gently on your shoulders as he started to massage the knots out of your muscles. You let out a soft content hum which made Pedro softly smile, knowing that his mission was successful. He even started to massage your head, releasing it from all stress that might be on your mind. You felt groggy and would almost fall asleep if Pedro didn’t spoke up “Let’s get you out and let me give you a proper massage.” He told you and you felt spoiled.

“You don’t have to do that Pedge.” He chuckled. “Cariño, lo quiero” (Darling, I want to) He mumbled softly into your ear. Pedro slowly taught you some Spanish and you smiled upon hearing him speak it. “Entonces está bien” (Then it’s okay) You softly hummed back and Pedro lit up hearing you speak Spanish. “me gusta cuando hablas español” (I like it when you speak Spanish). He softly murmured in your ear, his lips gazing your ear as he confessed. That’s when you got the idea. Make a song for Pedro. The thought of surprising Pedro with a partly Spanish song was what made your heart skip a beat and couldn’t wait to jump back into the studio but right now, it was time to relax. Tomorrow, you’ll go to the studio to record and make a new song. Dedicated to Pedro. You smiled at the idea.

You moved a bit so Pedro could get out of the tub. He placed a towel around his waist before taking your hand, helping you out and wrapping a towel around your body. Pedro carefully placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. Your arms were around him. The urge to feel him closer taking over, not even trying to resist it. You were pretty clingy after sex and Pedro knew that and he would give you everything you needed with love, not minding it one bit that you got clingy. In the contrary even, those were the moments that felt (and was) the most intimate between the two of you and he loved that he got to see a side of you, that nobody else could. It was a sign that you were so comfortable and safe around him that you could show your vulnerable side.

While you were getting dried up, Pedro put his underwear on and led you to the bedroom. He put the soft warm light on and placed a towel on the bed for the oil. You unwrapped the towel and laid down on your stomach. Pedro placed the towel a bit over your butt and legs so you wouldn’t get very cold. He got the lavender oil and made sure to use enough for your skin as well. He sat a bit on your butt so he could give you a proper massage and you were totally fine with that. Pedro loved, and was so proud of you that you learned to accept his care and give it completely to him. He made sure to create the safest and comfortable environment that he could for you and he was doing a pretty good damn job at that.

Pedro rubbed his hands so they were a bit warmer and softly started to rub the oil onto your skin and started off slowly with the massage. You felt yourself completely relax. When he went to your shoulders and neck (where the most pain was) he placed more pressure. You let out a low groan “You okay mama?” he asked you gently, knowing that it hurts a bit but he had to go through that in order for you to feel better eventually and you knew it. You nodded “Yeah, just keep going.” You murmured out a bit from the stinging pain. “Okay, if you want me to stop, you tell me okay, baby girl?” you let out a soft yes and he continued. The worst part was over finally and you started to relax more. You focused on Pedro’s warm hands rubbing your body and the rain heavily ticking on the window.

Pedro slowly started to make an end to the massage, his fingers releasing the pressure on your muscles until he softly went with his hands over your back. “You’re okay now, Cariño.” He got carefully off of you and walked to the closet to give you a shirt of him. You sat up and Pedro was by your side in a sec. “Don’t get up to quick princesa. I don’t want you to get dizzy.” He told you softly and helped you with his shirt. “So your muscles keep warm.” He told you when he saw you looking confused. (You always slept naked). You nodded and Pedro helped you stand up and opened the covers for you to crawl under. You felt so relaxed and warm that the fuzzy feeling was at full capacity right now. You laid down on your side, facing towards Pedro’s side, waiting for him to get in. Your eyes following his every move. Pedro noticed and smiled at how extra clingy, soft and fuzzy you radiated.

Finally he crawled in and you immediately crawled against him. Pedro let out a chuckle and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. “You’re extra clingy today, is everything alright baby girl?” Pedro softly asked you and you felt guilt and a bit of shame crawl over you. “Sorry..” you whispered out and Pedro leaned back so he could look at you. You were unable to make eye contact until Pedro softly cupped your cheek and his pinky underneath your chin, making you look up at him. His eyes so kind, you could drown in them. “Don’t ever say sorry for that. I love it when you are clingy. Means I get to take care of you. These moments are my favorite because you let me completely in. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.” You felt relieved and smiled softly. “Yeah, I just… I don’t know it’s stupid.” You chuckled a bit feeling silly. “Hey, look at me. It’s not stupid. Tell me.” You shifted a bit in his arms so you laid down on his chest. Your chin resting on your arm while looking up at him. “I don’t know, I just want you closer. Just want to be enveloped by you…” Pedro smiled and pulled you closer. “I can do that. And I feel the same. Just want to be with you, touch you. I love you so much.” He told you with a soft smile, his eyes radiating so much adoration for you that it made you feel giggly. You smiled and felt flustered. “I love you too Pedge. I can’t imagine a life without you.” you told him honestly. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled and felt relieved. You hugged him tighter and whished each other goodnight and fell asleep into each other’s embrace.

Let's make some music part 2

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal oneshot #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x singer

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secretwriterpp · 1 year

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Angel voice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blushed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pedro was exasperated : damn they are so annoyingly cheesy.

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

———-–—————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

-We slayed it!!! Didn’t we ?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎶 Well, who am I to keep you down?

The noise in the bar significantly went down.

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

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

- Told you guys , an angel.

🎶 Like a heartbeat, drives you mad

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

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

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

🎶 Oh oh oh , you’ll know ….

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

——————————————————-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- you almost made me cry.

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

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

———————————————————

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

- Fuck.

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

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extraordinarybennyyy · 1 year

Text

remedy

pedro pascal x singer! reader

tw: quick proofreading, mention of death

Everyone has a shadow.

Not just the projection of your figure on the cement ground when you're walking on the sunny streets with sweat passing over your forehead and a cup of iced tea in your hand. Shadows are not only that, the distorted and stretched version of you.

Shadows live inside everyone, each of us, eating us from the inside. Whether they are shaped as fears, insecurities, traumas, anxieties: they exist and exploit us, like a virus which tries to expand itself before taking full control of the host. Even the happiest and bubbliest people suffer from this sickness, no matter how cheerful or famous they are.

And Pedro Pascal isn't an exception.

The always-grinning Chilean actor has terrible demons living inside his brain like an all-consuming parasite. People unaware of his past would probably envy him and every aspect of his checkered world, whose patina is only apparently good and utterly beautiful.

His index finger follows the pattern of the tattoo on his wrist, a P that becomes a V and vice versa. That, his mother's death, being his biggest trauma. Her memory wakes up with him and often makes him pull all-nighter, unanswered and completely useless questions whether he could have helped her spinning and sending him in a vertigo of fear and anguish.

Pedro knows those questions are no use and that, unfortunately, nothing would ever bring her back. However they keep and keep circling in his head continuously, a broken disco on the turntable.

He exhales deeply through his nostrils while glancing at your figure playing the piano. Your sacred and angelic self absentmindedly presses the keys of the piano, hair pull together in a messy bun while one of his shirts covers the upper part of your body. Seeing you, a worldwide singer, in such a domestic activity was something Pedro always considered him blessed for.

The actor is leaning on the door of the living room, a military green t-shirt on. His index kept replaying the same path, a V transforming into a P and a P becoming a V. Same pattern everyday, unchangeable like his past and present agony.

When the thoughts screamed in his head and he couldn't find an answer; when his shadows became too dark and he outstretched his hand to walk forward; when tears threatened to burst out of his dark eyes. In all those scenarios, the only thing that keeps him going is you and your love for him. The only cure.

His steps are soft and gingerly as if he is one of the cats he's allergic to, and you barely acknowledge his presence until he sits down next to you. Pedro places his head on your shoulder with an unusual calmness and silence. The bell rings that something is wrong and he knows you know it.

Your fingers caress his cheeks and your lips kiss his forehead. The music in the living room stops as your hands lift from the piano and you hug him tightly. Silence engulfs you in a bubble in which you two only existed, where caresses and breaths spoke louder than words. The world outside - the press, the media, galas, his movies and your albums were far far away, a distant planet where you often escaped from.

"Sing for me," he muttered in the crook of your neck, almost imperceptible. A simple and clear request, you didn’t need more to understand what he was referring to. Your latest album was full of songs of love, all inspired by him and dedicated to him, the love of your life. The world outside suspected that your friendship blossomed into something more, but you two always returned to your isolated den, where no one disturbed your flower of love.

You nod and he sits up. Finger pressing on the white buttons and your voice humming the song you secretly wrote for him fills the room, attaching to the surfaces of the furniture and the covers of books.

"But when the pain cuts you deep

When the night keeps you from sleeping"

Pedro closed his eyes, lulled by the sacred words leaving your mouth like a prayer. Under his eyelids, memories of his mother take life once more: she was reading him stories at bedtime, playing with him in the grass and clapping at every performance of his.

"Just look and you will see

That I will be your remedy"

Pedro smiled, knowing that it is true. You saved and cured him as if he was a bird with a broken wing and you placed it back. He can fly again, soaring high in the skies but- every pilot has a second in command, and he needs you more like the air.

When the world seems so cruel

And your heart makes you feel like a fool

A tear stream through his cheek, heart exploding with love. A comforting feeling spreads in his veins like a medicine on fluids, with the only difference that love was the cure you use for him. Every fiber of his being enacts again when touched by such devotion.

I promise you will see

That I will be, I will be your remedy

The shadows disappear slowly slowly, the light starting to appear under the thick, black patina of fear and dread. Breathing steadies as your sing words of reassurance. The curtain opens and the lights comes in again.

His dark and kind eyes gloss once more when you stop tuning the song for him, a warm smile stretching his beautiful lips. There isn't the need to say thank you, his eyes speaking enough for you. Eyes say much more than a gratitude or recognition, especially when you people love each other like you and Pedro do.

You placed your head on his shoulders and he holds you close to his body, his hand on your waist.

As every piece of the puzzle fit with his right match, the borders combine together in a tight embrace, you are his one, his forever match, his remedy.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fic

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coffeeshades · 1 year

Text

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). filthy smut. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: i know i made you guys wait a lot for this but i wanted it to be perfect and i was really busy but it's finally here now! thank you for the love on the first two parts, i love all of you. happy reading!!!

"Oh yes! I forgot about the most exciting part. It's your friend, Pedro Pascal."

You're not sure who it's exciting for, because it's certainly not you. Sure, Jon had no idea what had happened between you and Pedro, but you were hoping he did at the time. Because if he did, he wouldn't be gushing about how exciting it is that the two of you are going to collaborate.

You try to hide your dismay and muster up a smile as Jon continues to talk about how great Pedro is. You can't help but wonder how you're going to make it through this project without letting your personal issues with Pedro get in the way of your work and finally driving you into insanity.

Regardless, you know you have to remain professional and focused. It's just a job.

"Does he know about me?" you hesitantly ask.

"Yeah, he's known for awhile." Jon replies, "We asked him not to mention anything, but I've gotta say I'm surprised he actually didn't."

"I've got to say I'm surprised too."

•••

For the next few weeks, the only thing on your mind was Pedro. You couldn't stop thinking about what he might have said or what he thought when he found out you were going to work together. This war between you and your brain was pretty stupid because you could just call him or send him a quick text.

Hey, guess what? We're finally going to work together! :)

Simple as that.

The problem was that you didn't want to be the one to bring it up first. You weren't the type to hold a grudge over trivial matters, but here you were, silently punishing him for what he did last month.

One of your last shows on the tour was in New York, and as usual, you invited most of your friends. Even though Pedro had been living in London for the last few months, you still sent him a text inviting him. He had taken a flight for other stuff, so it was safe to assume he would make the effort for this as well.

You: Hey! I know you're in London, but my show at MSG is next week, and everyone's coming. I would like for you to come too :)

Pedrito: Hi, my schedule here is pretty tight for next week. I'm sorry. Next time?

You: Bummer. Sure.

Despite your disappointment, you understood the situation perfectly. His work schedule has become quite hectic recently, as he has been traveling and shooting movies in various locations such as Hawaii, Boston, and now London. Your schedules no longer seemed to be in sync, and neither of you made an effort to rearrange your plans to fit the other.

Those months he spent filming with Oscar in Hawaii were by far the worst. Mostly because they were having fun and you weren't part of it. To put it mildly, the FOMO nearly killed you. The group chat and his Instagram were filled with pictures of them surfing, hiking, and exploring the island while you were miles away alone.

The night of the show arrived, and everything went smoothly as planned, leaving you with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. That later changed when, backstage, in the midst of winding down, Oscar approached you with a smile, "Too bad Pedro couldn't make it, he would've loved this outfit."

You smile as you look down at your own stage outfit, knowing he'd like it because of its purple color.

"Too bad he's in London," you reply back.

Oscar's face falls slightly as he responds, "London?"

You nod as you chug down the last of your water bottle.

"No, he got here days ago," he says, huffing a laugh. "I called him so we could ride together, but he never answered. I figured I would run into him here."

"Oh."

Oscar's expression is slightly puzzled, as if he's trying to connect the dots between the two statements. "Is everything okay between you guys?"

You wanted to lie so bad; say yes and play it cool. After all, that's what you two have been doing for the past nine months: playing pretend. But this whole exchange has caught you off guard, and you're not sure if you want to continue with the facade or finally be honest about the situation.

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

For days, you tried to brush it off and convince yourself that it was no big deal, but deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and hurt. He had been there and chose not to go. Not even a call or text to explain or apologize. Nothing.

So, no. You weren't going to text him first, were you?

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

If somebody had told Pedro three years ago that he would be starring as a bounty-hunting badass in a signature Star Wars series, he would've laughed in their face. But here he was, about to start the table read for the first episode of The Mandalorian, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as he waited to see how his character would come to life on screen.

It was a pinch-me moment. He had come a long way since his early days as a struggling actor, and he was grateful for the opportunity to work with such talented people on a project that was sure to be groundbreaking. As he looked around the room at his fellow cast members and crew, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Until his eyes landed on you.

He then felt shame and guilt for how he handled things a month before. He knows he fucked up. You're sitting across from him, the heavy, discerning quality of your gaze sending shivers down his spine. It's as if you're peering right through him, past the gleaming politeness to the rough edges beneath. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.

Your expression says, "Wipe that smile off your face. There's nothing to be happy about."

He was convincing himself that he didn't exactly know what drove him not to tell you the truth about his availability. Except he did. His time away from you had allowed him to get you out of his system, and he didn't want to fall back down the maybe-I-have-feelings-for you rabbit hole again. So in true Pedro fashion, he avoided it.

He knew he'd be back in New York for your concert when you texted him. Yet he boldly lied. And it bit him in the ass.

He couldn't throw away all the progress the two of you had made, so he knew he had to make amends for his behavior before it was too late. He made a mental note to talk to you after the reading was over.

•••

The reading was over in what seemed like an eyeblink. You were so thrilled to be part of this, and even given everything that has happened between you two, you would be lying if you said you weren't happy you're doing this with him.

Though you weren't doing a particularly good job of displaying it. You barely talked to him when you got here, quickly exchanging hellos and moving on to something else.

You were settling into your trailer with your agent, going over some details, when you heard a knock. Your agent quickly rises to unlock the door as you continue to put some of your things in a drawer. When the door opens, you hear him before you see him. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor!"

Taylor couldn't help but laugh at his antics, and you can't either. A smile formed on your lips as you closed the drawer before collecting yourself and remembering that you were really mad at him.

"Pedro, long time no see!" she says as they hug and exchange pleasantries.

Taylor looks my way. "I am going to get some of those snacks we saw earlier," she says, "I'll be back in a bit."

As she exits the trailer, you make your way to the door. Pedro is standing there, dressed in a black sweatshirt, olive green trousers, and white sneakers, which you can only describe as attractive.

Needless to say, he was making it difficult for you to hate him right now.

•••

Pedro's mind goes completely blank when he sees you; it's as if he has forgotten everything else around him and all he can focus on is you, making it hard for him to form coherent sentences.

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

"Is that why you came here?" you inquire, "to tell me my hair's pretty?"

"No, I came here to apologize," he replies back as he steps into the trailer and closes the door behind him. He watches you sit on the edge of the sofa that adorned the room, hands on each side of you, waiting for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath. "I know I messed up and hurt you. I just wanted to make things right, kid."

"Why?"

"Because you’re the last person in the world I want to upset. That would be, like, devastating."

"Hmm," you hum, a blank expression on your face, "you're not doing a very good job at it."

Pedro couldn't help but smirk at your jab, "Clearly. You looked like you were plotting my murder in there."

"Oh, I already know where I'm going to hide your body."

His laugh fills the room, and your face softens. He began walking towards the couch, and you both slumped back into it at the same time. "It's nothing really; I'm over it," you say, staring at the wall.

Pedro tilts his head to look at you, "When will you learn that you're so bad at lying that it's not worth even trying?"

You face him, your beautiful eyes catching him off guard. "This is the worst apology ever, by the way."

"I know, princesa," he says softly. "But I mean it. I'm sorry I didn't go, and I'm sorry it took me this long to apologize."

You slowly nod, your face displaying a hint of uncertainty. As if you're trying to figure out whether he's sincere or not, which he wishes you didn't have to even wonder about. "It's okay if you didn't want to go; I just wish you would've said that instead of lying and making me look like an idiot, P."

No, no, no. I wanted to go, but I'm a fucking coward.

Your words pierced him like a dagger, and the pang of guilt washed over him again. He's been drowning in it for the past few weeks, but to actually hear the disappointment in your voice is a completely different beast.

Before he could even muster up a response, you speak again, "But I forgive you."

Pedro's breathing slowed down as you placed a hand on his thigh, and he heard those words. He reciprocated the gesture and then put his hand over yours, gripping it softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Good," he says, "because now we can properly freak out about this," excitement overflowing through him as he couldn't keep it in anymore.

He needed to share this with you. When the creators of the show approached him, you were the first person that came to his mind. One of the things you've always wanted to be part of was Star Wars, so he knew you would be jealous to find out he was cast in this and couldn't wait to give you a hard time, just like Oscar did when he got the role of Poe.

That plan quickly fell apart when the creators revealed they were bringing you aboard, and even though it meant he couldn't torture you any longer, he was overjoyed you were going to be by his side in this.

“You must be ecstatic,” you tell him, your hands still connected, "this is a big deal."

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

"I did," you attempt to correct yourself, but it’s too late. Pedro has already saved the words for later in his mind. "I mean, we did! We all did. Your friends, I mean. We knew things were only going to get better for you. Even before I met you, I knew you were going to do great things. Sarah talked about it all the time, too, and we're pretty sure this is only the beginning."

He's stunned at the rambling explanation of your thoughts about his rising career. He looks at you with gratitude in his eyes, feeling fortunate to have supportive people like you in his life who believe in him.

The lack of hesitation in your voice did the opposite of what your words had done; it cooled down the hope that had lit up like a flame in his chest.

"Now, come on, let's find Taylor and those snacks," you tell him as you rise up from the couch and extend your hand to him, "I'm hungry, and we still have costume fittings," you add. He puts his hand in yours, restraining himself and letting you struggle to pull him up as you try your hardest to do so.

"You asshole!" you yell, tightening your grip on his hand, "Stop that and get up!"

He can't stop laughing as you finally manage to pull him up. "you need to work on your strength, baby," he says between chuckles.

You scoff and playfully hit him on the shoulder, "My strength is fine, thank you."

"Ow! Who's the asshole now?" he exclaims, rubbing his shoulder.

“And don't call me baby,” you tell him. "I forgave you, but that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

"I don't think it works that way, baby."

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

The next two months were amazing, to say the least. It's as if all the two of you needed was to work together on a TV series to realize how much you needed to be together. Just like your on-screen characters, you two were tied to work together by a third thing, that thing being, of course, the child.

Speaking of the child, you were obsessed with it. You couldn't believe a green, Yoda-like animatronic puppet could win your heart in such a short period of time, but here you were. It was magical. Truth be told, everything about The Mandalorian was magical.

Every day you had to step on that immaculate set that's built and surrounded by volume, which creates an infinite sort of visual experience in terms of skies, planets, space, ships, and all kinds of things, was magical.

It just felt like you were stepping onto these highly sophisticated amusement park rides, with very little being left to the imagination because of how incredible the design work is from all the departments.

Another magical thing was seeing Pedro bring the character to life. His ability to convey so much depth and complexity to a character that is mostly hidden behind a mask is truly impressive. From crafting his "Mandalorian" walk and stance to his deep, jarring voice.

That voice.

That voice was made to torture you and send shivers down your spine. That voice made you forget all of your life's problems. Actually, that voice was made for one thing and one thing only, the bedroom.

"Oh my god, it doesn't sound like a bedroom voice!" he protested, as he highlighted lines in his script.

You were joining him and the creators in the recording booth for his voiceover session.

"It does! It's a sexy bedroom voice." you teased, making everyone laugh. "That's not very Disney of you, P."

He gets closer to the mic and whispers, voice altered because of the modulator, "Bite me."

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

You were having as much fun as you could. Simply put, you two were menaces on set.

You could tell Jon, Dave, and the rest of the crew were patient with your antics, but it was clear that they were also entertained by your on-set dynamic. It's not everyday that you get to work with your best friend, and you two made it everyone's problem.

Although sometimes you have to admit you take it a little too far.

"Catch me if you can, Boba Fett wannabe!" you scream.

Pedro was chasing you through the set with a prop sword, trying to get you to stop teasing him about his costume. "You are one insult away from getting a taste of this sword!"

"Okay, tin can man!"

You were running away from him as fast as you could, hoping to find a place to hide before he caught up with you. You quickly hide behind one of the makeup trailers and peek out to see him come to a stop, catching his breath. He was wearing his Beskar getup, minus the helmet.

“Give up yet, old man?"

He laughs. "We're being extra cruel today, huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary pause and facing away from where you were hiding, you slowly inch closer to him, trying not to make a sound. As you get within arm's reach, you draw one of your prop knives from your costume pocket and hold it to his back. Using your free hand to hold him steady, you lean in and whisper in his ear, "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

He turns his head slightly, and you can see the smirk on his face. "That's my line, thief."

Before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. He takes hold of you and tightens his grasp on your waist. "Let me go, P!"

You struggle to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. "I am going to squeeze you so hard you will fart," he chuckles.

You snort. "You have such a way with words."

As you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you accidentally elbow him in the face, causing him to release his hold on you and stumble into a piece of plywood that had been propped up.

"Aw, fuck!" he cries out, clutching his nose.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" you rush to him, cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

He removes his hand from his nose, revealing a cut and a trickle of blood. "It's alright, just a bloody nose," he says calmly.

You touch his nose gingerly, and he winces in pain. "Nevermind, I think it is broken."

•••

You begged Jon to let you ride to the hospital with them; after all, this was your fault. When you get there, the doctors rush to Pedro's side and begin examining him.

If you weren't preoccupied with being mortified over this, you'd laugh.

The scene before you is straight out of a sitcom, with Jon frantically explaining the situation to the doctors, Pedro in full costume with fake injuries and blood that you were pretty sure the doctors thought were real, and you standing there with an expression that screamed: Hey! It's me! I did this!

After a couple of minutes of clearing up that it was an accident and that the blood coming out of his ears was fake and not the cause of a brain hemorrhage, one of the doctors led us to a room to examine his nose.

"It's not broken," the doctor said, as she prepared to clean the wound. "He's just going to need a couple of stitches."

"Oh great, we still need to finish a scene, and they're waiting for us." Jon replies.

"This will take 15 minutes, tops," she says, grabbing a tray of medical supplies. “I will be fast.”

"I'll call the guys," Jon tells you as he exits the room.

You nod in agreement and stand in a corner as you silently watch the doctor carefully clean, anesthetize and stitch up the wound. You feel relieved that it wasn't anything more serious.

After she finishes, Pedro thanks her, and she nods with a smile. "You're going to need to take some analgesics for the pain. I'm gonna go grab my prescription pad. I'll be right back."

She exits the room, and you walk over to Pedro. He moves his head slightly, showing off his nose.

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I can't believe I ruined your perfect nose."

"Who said it isn't perfect still?" he says it as if it were a challenge. His brow is arched, with the tiniest smirk hidden in one corner of his mouth.

"Don't start. I'm mortified."

"Tranquila, princesa. I said it was okay after you apologized 20 times on our way here," he reassures you. "Plus, now we have a funny story to tell during our press tour next year."

You sigh. "I guess you're right."

"You know," he says, "what hurts right now is that today is our last day of shooting. I can't believe it's been two months already. Time fucking flew."

Your heart sinks as you're once again reminded that this amazing experience is coming to an end. The day you've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and you're not ready to say goodbye. It's not like you already know you'll be back next year for the next season, but you're not ready to say goodbye to him and the daily routine you've formed, which mostly consists of breakfasts together, long hours on set, and late-night movie marathons.

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," you muttered, "gonna miss our little routine."

Pedro studies you. "Maybe we can extend it for a little while longer."

Not knowing where this is going, you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Pedro smiles, "I..I was thinking maybe... maybe you could come with me to Chile for Christmas with the family."

Your heart skips a beat as you process Pedro's words. You open your mouth slightly to say something, but you close it again, momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation.

"Uh… I know you probably have plans with your family,” he interjects, “but I thought this would be a good time for you to finally meet my father and the rest of the family, and—"

Before he could finish, you nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas in Chile with Pedro and his family, “Yes, I would love to."

You've never seen him smile as broadly as he does now, and you know that you have made the right decision.

New York City

December 15, 2018

“Dude, he invited you to his hometown with his family, and you still think that man has no feelings for you?”

“Taylor...” you paused, picking up a clothing item that had fallen to the floor. “It's just a friendly gesture.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he invites everyone to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Sureee.”

You didn't want to go there; you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't get entangled in what ifs, so your friend's teasing wasn't helping you keep those thoughts at bay.

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that. I know he doesn't,” you say, suddenly remembering that night when you overheard him telling Sarah how he felt about you. “Plus, as my agent, you more than anyone know I can't do relationships right now; my life's too busy."

Taylor finished zipping up the last of your bags for the trip and gave you a reassuring smile. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little fun, does it? And who knows—maybe he has changed his mind. Just enjoy the trip and have fun."

No, he hasn’t changed his mind.

“Yeah, I just want to have a good time, really. Things have been so good between us these past couple of months, It just feels...right again. I don’t wanna mess it up.”

"Understandable, bestie. However, I think you’re both making a huge mistake.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Thanks for helping me pack.”

“Thanks?” she scoffs. "I'm expecting a raise."

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

After the chaos of the day leading up to the flight, it was actually a relief to be sitting here. The large, comfortable seat, with your feet tucked up under you as you gazed out the jet window, felt very much deserved.

While the gentle buzz of the flight filled your ears, you laid your head against the window of the plane and watched the clouds and the seemingly endless expanse of sky fly by.

As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention on what was outside the plane rather than allowing your mind to wander to what would await you once you arrived at your destination. The mixture of excitement and exhaustion lulled you into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the journey that lay ahead.

•••

The taxi ride from the airport to the Balmaceda-Pascal's was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, but you couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder and curiosity as you took in the new surroundings. As the car comes to a stop in front of the house, you shoot Pedro a quick text.

You: I'm here, tonto.

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta.

Since you still had a few things to attend to in New York, he had arrived two days earlier. After insisting like a madman that he could pick you up from the airport and you insisting like a madwoman that you could easily get there on your own, he gave up and let you take a cab.

The driver has already gotten out of the car to wrestle the luggage from the trunk. You clamber out after him into the brilliant sunlight, the heat instantly making your travel outfit—which consisted of a pair of black leggings, a sweatshirt, and Pedro's Freaky Tales green hoodie—feel suffocatingly thick. The change in temperature is a shock to your system, having just come from New York's freezing climate.

“Hey you!” Pedro's booming voice interrupts your thoughts, “Nice hoodie. Where'd you get it?”

“Um, someone left it at my place a while ago, and I decided to keep it. It's really comfy.”

Pedro smiles and nods, "It suits you. You should wear it more often."

“Thanks, but not here,” you tell him, your face flushing from the heat. ”It's burning hot."

“Welcome to Chile, where it's scorching hot during the winter and freezing cold during the summer,” he says in a joking tone, as he tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Let's get inside, it's cooler.”

The moment you stepped into the house, you were greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning. The house was lovely. You take in the Mediterranean decor style and the large windows that let in natural light as you look around. On either side of the foyer, stone archways lined the way up two stories to an ornate ceiling.

As you make your way to the living room, you catch a glimpse of the various family pictures that adorn the walls. The living room was spacious and inviting, with plush couches and a fireplace that made you feel right at home.

Dropping your bags next to the stairs that led to the second floor, Pedro places a hand in your back and gestures you towards a hallway, “C'mon, everyone is out back.”

At the back of the house, tangled trees press close, the forest extending as far as you can see, and off to the left, in the meadow, a gazebo adorned with wild grapes stands within a smaller thicket of trees. Bright glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders swing in the branches, and the path cuts past a row of flowering bushes before curving onto a footbridge and then disappearing into the mountains on the far side.

It's like something out of a storybook. Charming, picturesque, and perfect.

“You're here!” A familiar voice drew your attention back to earth. “And right on time. How was your flight?”

Pedro's sister, Javiera, lit up with a smile as she hugged you tightly. You returned the embrace, grateful for her warm welcome. "It was long, but good nonetheless," you replied with a smile.

“Well, if it isn't the infamous best friend I keep hearing about?” you turned around to see Pedro's father approach you with a friendly smile on his face.

"Yup, that's me," you reply, extending your hand for a handshake.

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, shaking your hand. "Pedro talks about you all the time."

“I hope good things,” you chuckle, “and it's great to finally meet you too, Mr. Balmaceda.”

“Oh, please call me José,” he tells you, waving his hands. Just like his son, you notice that José has a warm and welcoming personality, making you feel at ease. “And please, make yourself feel at home; we're thrilled to have you.”

“No, he's thrilled to have a world famous superstar staying at his house,” Nicolás, Pedro's brother, retorts back at his father. Making everyone laugh and leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Oh, I don't know about being a superstar," you say lowly.

“Are you kidding?" Nicolás cuts you off as he takes a seat, "Don't be modest. It's literally an honor to have you here."

“Yeah, you're sooo cool,” Javiera's older son added.

"Okay, alright, that's enough." Javiera must have noticed your embarrassed expression. She reached out to you and held you by the shoulders, reassuring you. “Let's not overwhelm her with too much praise. Let's give her some space, she must be tired."

And she was right. The almost 12 hour flight has left you feeling exhausted, jet lagged, and in need of a very long nap.

"Vamos princesa, I'll take you to your room." Pedro turned around and led the way towards the room while you followed him closely, trying to keep your eyes open and fighting the urge to just collapse on the floor.

As you reached the second floor, your attention was drawn back to the house. “This place is so gorgeous, P.”

“We got it a couple of years ago. We wanted something a little bit bigger so we could have everyone over for vacations, and we also wanted something that felt like home, you know?”

“I love it,” you tell him.

“This is your room,” he says, jerking his chin at the door on the right, “and this is mine.”

He opens the door to the room on the left. His room, much like mine, is absolutely huge. The bed is along the wall immediately to your right as you enter, a recklessly comfortable looking king size bed doused under the weight of a fluffy duvet and an insane amount of pillows.

The bedding is bright white and contrasts sharply with the dark wooden floorboards. "Your bed looks like a big fluffy cloud," you say, giggling.

"It feels like one," he says, smiling. He can tell what you're thinking by the look in your eyes,"Go on, I know you want to."

Like a little kid, you start running towards the bed, feeling the softness of the plush carpet under your feet. As you sink into the bed, you realize that it's even more comfortable than it looks, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh.

“P, I’m never moving again,” you say, your voice drifting over to him.

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

“Hmm, why exactly?” you turn over onto your stomach and lean against your elbows to face him.

"Because it's my bed," he simply states, "and I have plenty of plans that don't include you spending the entire trip in my bed."

Bravery takes over, and you give him a playful smirk. "Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure those plans change then."

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Good luck with that, sweetheart.”

You know this is cruel. You were torturing yourself. Being so optimistic was cruel, but because of your longing and deep, hidden desires, you couldn't help but indulge in silly fantasies and play along.

“Alright, I'll go to mine,” you say with a forced smile as you get off the bed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I need to nap right now, or I'll die.”

“I will, uh, come get you for dinner later.”

“Sure, boss,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as you walk past him to leave the room.

“Sweet dreams.”

In the past four days, you've learned many things.

First, Chile was sickeningly beautiful. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the breathtaking scenery of the Andes Mountains made you feel like you were in a dream. It spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt, with each square representing a different aspect of its culture and history. From the bustling city streets to the serene beaches.

The food was also a highlight, and you're pretty sure you gained a few pounds from indulging in the delicious local cuisine.

“Here, try this one.”

“That's the biggest empanada I've ever seen in my life,” you exclaimed as you took a bite of the savory pastry, filled with juicy meat and vegetables. “This is so fucking good.”

Pedro chuckles. “It's filled with a mixture called Pino.”

“Okay, forget the manjar. This,” you say, mouth full, “is my new favorite thing in this country.”

Pedro gasps. “I thought I was your favorite thing in this country.”

You grin and give him a playful nudge. "Okay, fine. You're still my favorite, but this empanada might take the top spot."

“That's better,” you look up at him, trying not to melt then and there at the signature wide grin spread across Pedro's gorgeous face. “But you know, there's still plenty of time for me to prove that I deserve the top spot.”

You chuckle at his remark, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We'll see about that, Pascal," you reply, taking another bite of the delicious empanada and secretly hoping he succeeds in his mission.

•••

Second, Pedro's family were the warmest hosts you could have imagined, eager to share their traditions and stories with you. They accepted you as one of their own and made you feel like a member of the family.

They took you on various adventures throughout the city, showing you hidden gems that only locals knew about. The tradition of taking a trip to a hiking site outside the city whenever all of them got together was in motion and this year it was the Valley of the Moon's turn.

“That hike was so worth it, guys," Nico says, a little out of breath from climbing up the steep trail.

Damn right, it was. As you're standing atop a giant sand dune, you're bewildered by what you're witnessing. The view as the sun slips below the horizon is out of this world. The ring of volcanoes and surreal lunar landscapes of the valley are suddenly suffused with intense purples, pinks, and golds. It's the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen.

You quickly grab the camera that's hanging around your neck and start taking pictures, trying to capture the breathtaking moment before it fades away. “Guys, get together!” you shout, “A family photo with this stunning backdrop is a must.”

As you finish taking the pictures, Pedro's voice breaks the silence, “Javi, grab the camera and take one of us, please.”

You comply and hand the camera to her. Pedro sneaks a hand around your waist and pulls you close, “Smile, princesa.”

“Don't tell me what to do," you playfully retort, leaning into him and smiling for the camera.

•••

And third, Pedro has always had a thing for theatrics. Today, some of you decided to take a trip to the beach. The heat was unbearable, and the cool ocean water sounded like the perfect way to beat it.

He would often come out of the ocean dramatically, splashing water all around and pretending to be a sea monster to scare his nephews. As soon as he saw the waves, he ran towards them and jumped into the water with a loud roar. His nephews laughed and cheered him on as he swam towards them, pretending to be a giant creature ready to attack.

After spending most of the day in the water, you were sitting down on the sand, attempting to make sand castles with one of Pedro's cousins. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing, making you feel relaxed. “My god, he's like a kid,” you tell her, looking at Pedro as he continued to play with his nephews, now closer to the shore.

She laughs. “He's always been like this. As a child, he was always playful and energetic, and he never lost that spirit as he grew up. It's one of the many things we love about him."

The sandcastle you were working on was slowly starting to take shape. Pedro's cousin continued to build it and tell you stories about him, letting nostalgia wash over you.

She told you about his grandfather and how he used to take them to watch double features of old movies, and how that heavily influenced Pedro's love for storytelling and cinema. You didn’t know him then, and you'll never understand why it feels like you did. “But you know, one of my absolute favorite memories is when he recited Hamlet here on the beach with Grandpa."

“Actually, it was Death of a Salesman, cousin.”

His voice startles you as you turn to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face. "I do remember that day," he continued as he lowered himself onto the sand behind you, legs on each side of your body. He places a hand on your thigh for a brief moment as he settles behind you before removing it.

You want nothing more than to reach out and put his hand back on you, to insist he keep touching you but you don’t.

He starts helping you with the sandcastle, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his familiar warmth spread through your body. Droplets of water from his hair fall onto your warm skin, and the small elephant tattoo on his right inner thigh catches your eye as he reaches for a shovel, "I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it but lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the States.”

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.”

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I can reenact it for you.”

“Please do.”

•••

Pedro suggested you two go outside and stargaze with a glass of wine after returning from the beach. The evening summer breeze was much cooler than the daytime breeze. You were both sitting on the back porch, leaning back on the cushioned chair, the wooden floor creaking under your weight.

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Pedrito?”

You can't help but stare as Pedro throws back his head, a bellowing laugh escaping him into the quiet night air. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if that means another bottle of wine, then so be it."

He reaches for your glass, hands touching briefly, and pours you some more. Even in the dark, the blinding white of his smile and the twinkle in those achingly beautiful brown eyes are impossible to miss.

With the moon low in the sky, his silhouette was even clearer to you: the way the bridge of his nose dips into the top of the large glass, the delicate hold of his fingers on the stem, and the mess of his hair.

Cicadas screamed into the night air as the taste of the rich, velvety wine danced on your tongue. Now, slightly tipsy on the red wine, you were nearly too lost in your memory of the moment to notice that Pedro had turned his head from above to look at you. Clearly, your staring had captured his attention, but you went to stare resolutely at the night sky again.

He sobered quickly, but his eyes never left you. You felt the weight of his lingering stare and were thankful that the darkness of the night and warmth of the fire covered your suddenly flushed cheeks. “Excited for Christmas tomorrow?” you ask softly, trying to break the tension with a light-hearted question.

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile, "but I'm more excited that you get to spend it with us."

A warmth filled your chest, and if your cheeks weren't already blushing already, they certainly were now, but you wouldn’t look away from him. The meaning wasn’t lost on you. “Thank you for inviting me, really. I thought I was going to be sad, but you guys have made me feel at home."

Pedro frowns. “What do you mean? About being sad.”

“I kind of hate this season now because it reminds me how lonely I am,” you chuckle, gripping the wine glass slightly tighter. “And don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends, but after you spend years with someone, Christmas just feels different without them around, you know? It's like...” you trail off, trying to put into words the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you. “Like there's a void that can't be filled no matter how many people are around you. And-and it's not like I miss that person in particular, I just miss having someone.”

His unblinking eyes hadn’t left yours, and you continued, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally get that out of your system. “I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s just a reminder that things change. you meet people and you love them, and then you lose them. It's inevitable, and it happens to everyone.”

It falls quiet between you again, the familiarity of the years of friendship meaning you are both comfortable with it. The weight of what you just said still hangs heavy in the air until he nods slowly, breaking the silence. “I get it. I feel the same way somehow,” you tear your eyes away from the constellations above to stare at him quizzically, a raised eyebrow telling him to elaborate.

He huffs out a laugh, as if he's amused by your confusion or embarrassed by his own vulnerability, and continues, “I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't date. I'm saving myself from that.”

“Yeah, I guess now I am too,” you respond, nodding in understanding.

"Also, not to sound like an arrogant asshole—"

“Which you probably will anyway,” you add in a playful tone.

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he says mockingly. “But my schedule is busy, if I wanna be involved in something, I want to pay attention to it and nurture it. It takes energy to be with someone.”

“It's not arrogant, it's the truth. I was telling Taylor the same thing the other day,” you tell him. “I can't date because I don't have the time to, but...”

“But what?” Pedro interrupts.

“Don't rush me, dude,” you chuckle. “But I'm also human, and I have needs sometimes, and it sucks that I can't just go to a bar like a regular person and sit on the barstool, have a drink, and wait for someone to approach me so we can go to their place and have sex and forget about it the next morning,” you finally admit, staring down at your finger swirling over the rim of your glass.

“No strings attached," he adds, his voice scratchy. “I, um, ha. I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.”

“Hooking up with someone like that in our world would involve lots of NDAs,” you say, laughing.

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.”

His eyes were doing the thing, the Pedro thing, and you did your best to ignore the way your heart lurched. The moment was charged with tension, and you both knew that there was more to say, and since neither of you dared to break the silence, someone else decided to break it for you, clearing their throat loudly and making you both jump. You turn to see Javiera standing by the door, looking amused and a little bit smug.

"I just wanted to let you guys know the rest of us are going out for dinner, in case you're interested in joining us," she said, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Uh, no. Thanks, I'm beat. The wine has made me sleepy.”

“I'm gonna have to pass too, sis,” Pedro tells her. “You guys have fun.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with a sly smile. “We'll be back late!”

After she leaves, you stand up and stretch your arms, feeling the effects of the wine yourself. “Woah. Too much wine,” you chuckle. “I should head to bed now before I regret it in the morning.”

“Me too,” he breathes out as he gets up, collecting his glass and yours. "Goodnight, princesa," he adds with a smile before you head towards the door. “Goodnight, P.”

•••

As soon as you entered your room, you immediately hopped in the shower, hoping to wash away the exhaustion from the day and also the dirty thoughts that had been lurking in your mind.

The warm water cascading down your body helped ease the tension in your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh. After a few minutes, you stepped out and changed into fresh clothes.

As you lie in bed, the conversation you had an hour before with Pedro seems to replay in your mind.

I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cross that line again. The last time you took that black, bold line and made it gray, it came with consequences. But you're not known for making the best decisions when it comes to these matters anyway.

You start to feel anxious and restless, unable to quiet your thoughts or fall asleep.

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

As you walk out of the bedroom, everything is dark, meaning everyone is still out for dinner. You have only the soft glow of the city outside the large windows to guide your way.

Hesitating as you walk through the hallway towards the stairs, you slow your steps, not entirely trusting your eyes to keep you from running into anything in the dark, unfamiliar space in such low light. Before you reach the stairs, you notice the light underneath Pedro's room, casting a faint glow onto the hallway carpet.

He's still up, you thought.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were heading toward his room.

“Pedro?” you call out his name as you gently knock on the door, “You up?”

“Bathroom! Come in!” he screams. You reach the doorknob and push it open. The sound of water running fills your ears as you step inside. You plop down sideways on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, and wait for him to finish his shower. The chilly night air seeps in through the slightly open door of his balcony, making you shiver.

“Can't sleep?” His voice is soft and soothing as he walks out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and wearing only black boxers. You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the way just looking at his face, with his golden skin from all the sun exposure, the shadow of dark scruff on his cheeks, and his brown eyes crinkled by a soft smile, makes your heart race.

“Nope,” you mumble. “Too much on my mind, I guess.”

“Enlighten me, please,” he quickly replies, returning to the bathroom. You get off the bed, take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself, but the sight of him in those boxers makes it difficult. You know that if you start talking about what's really on your mind, things might get even more complicated between the two of you.

“Uh...” you huffed out a laugh as the scenario played in your head, your legs almost giving out as you felt your guts twisting. Your mouth fell slightly agape as he stepped back into the room, “What's so funny?” he inquired. You fidget with your fingers and look at him, still chuckling a bit, “That conversation we had earlier. I can't stop thinking about it,"

Pedro leaned against the bathroom door, his face puzzled, reflecting that he had no idea which of the many conversations you two had today you were referring to. “The one about hooking up, I mean. And how you wish you could do that too," you continue, not bothering to try and hide the small beginnings of a smile from Pedro's watchful gaze, entirely more interested in testing the waters than anything else.

“Oh?” is all Pedro gives by way of a reply, not that you mind much since that works just as well as a real answer theoretically could. “Oh," you confirm. This could go either way, but as of right now, you're willing to take the risk.

His gaze is fixed on you, and you go back to lying on the bed, closing your eyes as if you're bracing for the impact of the unknown. “I was wondering if—and I might be making a complete fool of myself by saying this—but what if...” you trail off. "What if we..?” you can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, suddenly realizing that once you say it, you can't take it back.

“Fucked?” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open, surprised by his bluntness. You sit up on the bed, heart racing as you try to gather the courage to speak. “I mean, we-we know each other, and we're both horny, and we wouldn't have to sign any NDAs,” you joke, trying to lift the weight off the air.

"That's true," Pedro quips quickly, though any hint of eagerness in his reply is tempered by the softness of his voice. You feel the blush that rises in your cheeks at the implication in his words and you look away, seemingly breaking the trance you’ve been in. “Okay.”

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“Would you rather have me say no?” he chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans one shoulder into the doorframe and deciding that for now he’ll stay where he is, knowing he looks like a smug jerk but unable to help himself.

“No!” you tell him, rather eagerly. “I mean, of course you can say no. We don't have to do this if you're not into it,” you add softly.

He says your name and looks into your eyes, "My answer's yes.”

“Okay, but I have some rules,” you get off the bed, body tensed with anticipation. “Of course you do,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrow and giving you a knowing smile.

“No feelings. This can only happen while we're here. Once we go back to our normal lives, this never happened,” you tell him. He nods, taking a slow step forward and then another, and although there’s still a great deal of space between the two of you, you can feel the tension building. "Also, we can't tell anybody about this, not even our closest friends,” you continue.

He's closer now, feeling his breath on your face, and his hands find their way to your waist. "It's our little secret," he whispers, and you grab his shoulders to steady yourself.

“And no nicknames. No princesa, no baby, no love,” you try to sound stern but your voice betrays the excitement you feel.

He grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But there's no fun in that.”

“Fine. You can call me whatever you want,” you give in, finding his amusement endearing.

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles, his grin widening. “Are you done with your rules?”

“Yes, I guess so,” you stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so easily swayed by his charm.

“Good,” he says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “So I can start doing this,” he whispers, his hand sliding down your pajama shorts, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. "And this," he adds, as his lips press against your neck.

When you finally make yourself let go and stop fighting for some false sense of restraint for even one second longer, you notice that something changes in the way Pedro touches you, as if he's more confident and sure of himself.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your head to hold you in place. You do the same, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders for support. The tip of his finger under your shorts traces over where you’re slick and too ready for him. His mouth is tantalizingly close to yours, brown eyes staring into yours, pining and desperately waiting. “Can I?” he asks.

It's humorous and sweet even that he's asking permission to kiss you when one of his hands is already under your pants. Every rational thought disappears, and you crush your mouth against his.

Everything is slow and heavy, and he never lets his finger slide into you even when you silently beg for it. Just dragging it over and back—too little and too much all at the same time.

He presses the pad of his finger into your clit, and you have to break away from his mouth to groan, overwhelmed, knees wobbly. Pedro laughs quietly and nuzzles against your neck so his beard scruffs.

“Mi princesa,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly, “you make such pretty sounds."

There is a real chance you could spontaneously combust into flames just from the sound of his voice and his sweet nothings. He continues to draw circles on your clit making you moan and writhe in pleasure, feeling like you're about to explode with ecstasy. As he whispers more sweet words in your ear, you can't help but surrender to the intense sensations he's giving you.

“Is that good?” he asks, his voice rough, “Does that feel good?”

“Yes," you whisper, a hand traveling to his hair, tugging it tightly. “Yes.”

Just when you're about to come undone, he suddenly stops. Your eyes quickly find his for some explanations as to why he decided to put on hold the very satisfying and impending orgasm that was building up within you. “Oops,” he simply states, a grin plastered on his face.

“I fucking hate you,” you whine, pulling away from him. “I was so close! What you do that for?”

"I have some rules, too."

“Now?” you ask him, clearly frustrated with his antics. “Well, go on.”

“Actually, it's just one,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrows and giving you a knowing smile. His reaction is met by narrowed eyes, like you’re making sure to watch him closely until you figure out where exactly he’s going with this. "You do as I say. Which also means you come when I say."

“Sounds—” you're regaining your footing, regaining control over yourself, trying to reinstate some power, but the way he just said those words has taken away any sense of authority you thought you had. His voice is commanding, with no room for compromise or disobedience. “Sounds dangerous, but... alright.”

“Good girl, now get on the bed,” he says, and the timbre of his voice nearly kills you then and there, the dropping pitch making the words come out rough and serious. Pedro still sounds like himself, since his normal voice is more than enough to make you a little weak at the knees on a regular day, this new variant is a completely different monster.

You lay there, waiting for his next instruction, as the shadows danced on the walls and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence. Once he reaches the bed and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of your thighs, bending down until he’s face to face with you, your eyes level with his. You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his torso, feeling his tense muscles relax under your touch.

“I need you now, P,” you mumble, and you move your hand lower to hold him through his boxers. He twitches into you.

“What did I say?” his dark eyes are fixed on you as he reaches for your hand and pins it above your head. "I don't think you fully understand the consequences of disobeying me. We'll do this my way," he whispers menacingly.

This dark side of Pedro is one you've never seen before. The Pedro you know is a sunshine. However, the man on top of you right now is a completely different person, and you're more than the ready to get to know him.

“Keep your hands above your head. No touching."

Your body is aching for him, all willing and open, but he’s sliding down you, pushing your shorts down as he goes. His soft hands trace your thighs and stops at your knees, “Open up for me.”

"So pretty," he says, voice thick. You look down to see his face, pupils blown wide. “Can't wait to taste you, baby.”

You're a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. You don't even need to be looking at his face to know how arrogant he is right now, not that you could—it's buried deep inside between your thighs. You're desperate to grab his hair just to see where misbehaving will take you, but you settle for the headboard.

He kisses your cunt, messy and hot. A groan rumbles in his throat and he moves his tongue in circles, exploring every inch of your wetness. You arch your back, lost in pleasure, as he continues to devour you with his mouth. When you look down again, his brown eyes are staring back at you as his fingers slide into you, finding the right spot in milliseconds. It's fucking game over.

His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue and his goddamn nose. “Pedro...” you whimper, out of breath. “P-Please let me cum."

“Not yet, baby," he chuckles, fingers continue to expertly tease and stroke your sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "I know you can hold it for a little longer,” you cry out, gripping the bedsheets as you desperately try to move your hips to ride his fingers. Your eyes are watering slightly from how good he’s making you feel.

“You can cum now.”

Every part of your body spasms, and you scream, everything buzzing and vibrating as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and electricity flooding your body. Removing his fingers, he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up to your belly and lips. As you try to catch your breath, he whispers in your ear, "That was just the beginning. I want to make you cum again and again."

You can tell Pedro loves the way your face heats up at his words. “Please do,” you tell him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and your wandering hands are met by bare, warm skin and the short, neatly cropped hair that grows thicker the further down your fingers dare to venture.

“I know you said you're in charge, but I really need you to take this off,” you say, losing your ability to wait for orders. To your surprise, he complies and gets off the bed, slides down his boxers, just as you get rid of your t-shirt. You can't help but admire the sight of him fully exposed and ready for you, moving to the drawer to pull out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself.

“You can take a picture, it'll last longer."

“Don't get cocky.”

Pedro settles between you once again, and you grab his face. His eyes glistened, his hot breath on your skin as he leans in closer. Your thumb brushes against the tiny white scar on his nose. “You've marked me forever,” he chuckles, as he cradles your head and kisses you, his nose brushing against yours.

You grab his length and give him a slow, steady stroke from base to tip, then back down. His mouth leaves yours as his dick twitches in your firm grasp, causing him to groan involuntarily. The pace of your hand up and down his length never picking up or slowing down, instead maintaining the same teasingly slow pace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.”

Pedro guides himself over you, the head of his cock slipping over where you’re open, up to rub on your clit so your fingers dig into his shoulders. His nose nudges gently against yours, “I'll be gentle, princesa.”

“I don't want you gentle. I want you rough.”

“Is that so?”

You moan, eyes closing. You can't even remember how to breathe, let alone speak. Pedro pushes only his head into you, opening you before pulling out, leaving you contracting around nothing. “I'm going to fuck you roughly, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?”

“Yes, P,” you rasp, hands sliding across his back. He's playing with you and knows how to make it almost unbearably good. He pushes deeper into you this time, and you can feel your body resist, protesting that he's too big, too much, and he pulls out. He drags his cock over where you're slick and messy before thrusting forward as far as he can. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, back arching and pushing your stomach into his. "Oh my God.”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Like you're made for me."

Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, to keep him there, deep inside you. His head drops to your shoulders, pressing his lips to your collarbone. You're close, again.

“Please...” you beg, moaning like you've lost all sanity, his mouth pulls away slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

“More, please, I need more."

The way Pedro's fucking you right now borders on dangerous, making you question lots of things—things you'd rather not think about right now, as he reaches for your hand and places it on your lower stomach. “Feel that?”

You're not sure who moans louder: you when you realize why he's put your hand here, or Pedro when your walls clench involuntarily around his cock at the sensation. Your entire body tightens as you cry out, coming undone once again.

He presses his lips against your forehead and rolls you over, his cock still buried inside you.

“Pedro…that was…” you pant, body on top of his. “Did you come?”

He smirks. “Not yet, because you're gonna ride me now.”

Despite the fact that your body is weak and spent, the simple thought of being on top of him is enough fuel to make you feel a surge of energy. You straddle his hips, feeling his hardness against you, and sinking down on his dick.

“Like this?” you ask as you begin to move your body in sync with his, Your hips swirl and grind down, and Pedro's face is filled with pleasure. “Yes, mi amor. Just like that.”

Every rock of your hips and the way Pedro's pushing into you are the perfect rhythm. His hands grip your hips so tight, you're pretty sure it'll leave bruises for days. You lean down, his mouth close by your ear, as he fucks into you, hearing him whisper things only you get to hear. “you feel so good, baby, taking my cock so fucking well.”

Everything is so overwhelming—your body responding to his every thrust and word. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, and you never want it to end. Collapsing onto his chest, your fingers reach up to grip his hair. The satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes through the room, and you're suddenly glad there's no one in the house.

Pedro slaps your ass as you're still rocking back against his thrust. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you moaned as your body trembled with pleasure, mouth crashing into his, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back, and you feel him spill into the condom. He curses out your name as he's twitching and spasming inside you.

The post-sex haze settles over you both as you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. After a couple of minutes, Pedro finally slips out of you and heads to the bathroom. You manage to get up, body aching. As you gather your clothes from the floor and dress up, he emerges from the bathroom, his face puzzled.

“What are you doing?”

You chuckle, “Leaving.”

Of course you didn't want to leave, but since you agreed this was just sex and nothing more, staying sounds like a dangerous situation.

There's no need to make this situation more complicated than it already is, even if you gaslight yourself into thinking this is fine as long as you're both on the same page.

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.”

“Pedro, we said—"

“I know what we said, but stay. Just for tonight.”

You give him a warning look, and he gives you the same look back. “It'll make me feel dirty if you leave." you burst out laughing, and his face turns red. How's this the same man that just minutes ago was whispering the filthiest things into your ear?

“Okay, I'll stay.”

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no signs of Pedro. If you weren't lying on his bed, legs hurting like you ran a marathon, and your body wrapped in his warm blankets, you would have thought it was all a dream. Because in your dreams is the only place you are together, it's where you come home to him and he comes home to you.

You could still feel his hands moving over your skin, his breath on your neck, and the way he whispered in your ear, making you feel like the most loved person in the world.

Except it wasn't lovemaking; it was just sex.

The warmth of the hot chilean sun spilled through the bedroom window, casting a golden glow on the walls and illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air. The distant sound of soft music and laughter from downstairs made you smile as you sat up against the headboard.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Pedro wearing the coziest looking sweater, his dark hair all over the place, and presumably a cup of coffee in his hand. “Good morning, solecito,” he says sitting down next to you. "I made you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it."

You take the cup from his hand, fingers touching. “It can't possibly still be morning,” you rasp, voice still hoarse.

“No, it's not," he tells you. “It's 2:30pm.”

The fear in your face is palpable. “Fuck, did I miss the gift exchange?” you blurt out.

Pedro's pursed lips and guilty expression made it clear that you, in fact, missed the happiest time of the day. “No...” you dragged out, “Why didn't you wake me up?!” you demanded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep, you looked so peaceful," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But if it makes you feel better, everyone loved what you got them."

You groan in response. “I hate you so much.”

“Are you always this mean when you wake up?"

You shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “Eh, only when I have to deal with people who make me miss the fun part of Christmas."

“Let's talk about how my dad got the better gift, by the way,” he tells you, moving his hands energetically. “And how I'm definitely not jealous at all.”

“I had to impress him, and you can never go wrong with a Rolex,” you remark with a grin. “Plus, you deserve it after doing the most evil thing you could do to me.”

“You mean caring for your wellbeing and letting you rest after the very... eventful night you had?” he says teasingly. “Shut up,” you reply, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. In true Pedro fashion, he dramatically dodges the pillow and grins slyly, "You can't silence me that easily."

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire.

Pedro raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “Is that so?”

You hum. The tension is palpable in the air as you look into his eyes, trying to read his face. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart.

“Wanna see what I got you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled, his eyes still on you.

“Dying to,” you say, pretending not to notice how he changed the subject, setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, “but first I need to shower before I go downstairs.”

“No need,” he reaches for his front pocket, pulling out a small wrapped package. You eagerly take it from him, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Espero que te guste.”

Tearing the paper off and opening the black box, you find a beautiful necklace with a delicate gold chain and a small emerald pendant. “Now I feel like an asshole,” you say, immediately regretting getting him a bunch of funny socks. Your eyes are still fixed on the necklace.

Pedro laughs, your favorite sound in the world, “Hey, I love my socks. You didn't have to get me so many though,”

“I didn't know which ones you'd like better, so I got you a bunch of ‘em,” you say, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “This is so beautiful,"

“It's your favorite gemstone," he says softly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything is okay.

You rush forward to embrace him, catching him off guard by the way he chuckles and says oh. He wraps his arms tightly around you, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater and the familiar scent of his cologne. “Thanks so much, P,” you say, voice drowning on his skin.

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

No strings attached, spontaneous, fun, and only while you're here. That's what you and Pedro agreed upon when you decided to have sex five nights ago. But the way he has you pinned against the shower wall and making your legs tremble with pleasure right now has you thinking of a way to make him not want to do this with anyone else.

The slick, wet sounds of Pedro's fingers pumping in and out of you filled the bathroom as you moaned in bliss. “Can you be a good girl for me and be quiet?” his nose brushes against yours, “We don't want them to hear us, do we?”

You shake your head, blown away, feeling suffocated, as he drags two fingers over your swollen clit. Your jaw sags as the pleasure floods your body as he applies more pressure to it, causing you to grumble in pleasure. As two fingers slide into you, deliciously stretching you, he covers your mouth with his, absorbing your satisfied moan.

He pulled his mouth away from yours, and the water slipped through his hair, dampening it and sticking it back on his forehead. "Open your mouth," he says, a glint in his eyes as you look at him, bewildered. He presses two fingers against your tongue and the sweet-salty taste fills your mouth as you suck on his fingers. “See how fucking good you taste.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need to feel you inside me."

Pedro lets his hand wander around your hips and slowly drags it down, lifting your leg and securing it around his hip. He took the space between your thighs, aligned himself with your entrance, and pushed in, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

He was moving faster, and you felt like a ragdoll in his arms, so euphoric from your high that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you'd gladly accept it.

“F-faster, please,”

You've had sex in a variety of positions over the last few days, but there was something about this position and the access it provided that you found incredibly satisfying. His wet, solid chest pressed against yours, his hand tight against your thigh as he buried himself deep within you.

Pedro let out a low groan, one you were all too familiar with by this point, indicating that he was about to finish. His hips trembled and he let out a final grunt, his breaths ragged and heavy as he came inside of you, mouths meeting in a kiss.

The two of you stood there, still in that proximity for a moment, full of love and softness because above all else, he was your best friend.

“Can I wash your hair?”

“Only if you let me wash yours after,” he replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Deal.”

Since they had a low-key Christmas consisting mainly of hot chocolate, fuzzy sweaters and movies, the family decided to plan a big New Year's Eve celebration to make up for it. Which prompted you to take a quick trip to the city yesterday in search of a dress because you hadn't packed anything fancy.

Pedro insisted that you didn't have to stress over that, to which you obviously objected.

“Sorry, but I'm not taking fashion advice from someone who has like three t-shirts and a pair of jeans,” you said, scrolling through your phone in search of stores. “You wound me, baby,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain. “But if you insist on shopping, let me take you.”

“No, you still have to help Javi with the party,” you said, getting up from the the couch. “I'll drive there, and I'll take Pedro and Bruno with me.”

Pedro looked at you slowly, processing your statement, looking uncertain.

“Google Maps is a thing, and we'll be fine. Now give me your keys.”

“I like it when you're bossy,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of a smile. “They're on the counter."

And thanks to the heavens, you decided to make an effort and find something suitable for the occasion because they went all out.

The bass pounded through the walls as the guests danced and laughed, enjoying the party. The colorful decorations and delicious food made it a night to remember.

“Oh my god, they're gone,” Javiera groans, referring to the tray of now empty lemon bars that were apparently the highlight of the dessert table. “I wanted another one!”

“I made another batch, I hid them in the oven,” you quickly tell her, feeling a little proud of yourself over the fact that people were enjoying what you made. “I'll go get them.”

“I will come with you.”

Once you both reach the empty kitchen, you go straight to the oven, pulling out the tray of lemon bars and setting it on the kitchen island.

“Thank you for taking Pedro and Bruno out yesterday, by the way."

"I had so fun much with them. They're great boys and even better fashion advisers,” you tell her, gesturing to your burgundy dress.

“Glad to know I've taught them well,” she says laughing.

As you cut the bars into perfect squares, Javiera grabs one and takes a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness. "These are amazing, you should consider selling them," she exclaims, closing her eyes in content.

You smile. “In another lifetime, I own a bakery in a small town with a living unit attached to the top. I have a beautiful green kitchen, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to people."

Javiera gives you a warm smile as you grab the powdered sugar. “You know,” she says reluctantly. “I see things and I feel things,” you stop what you're doing to look up at her, confused. “My brother's just scared.”

Confusion is quickly replaced with clarity as you realize where she's going with this. You open your mouth to say something, but she shuts you down. “He's created this wall to protect himself, he's been through a lot, and he has convinced himself that this is enough, that he doesn't need more, but I know better.”

A sigh leaves your lips, all of those feelings bubble up until you can't get a good breath, until you’re drowning. She continues, “I have seen you two together, friends don't look at each other like that."

You know that she's right, but things aren't so simple. Not when it comes to this.

“Maybe in another lifetime," is all you tell her, grabbing the lemon bars and heading out of the kitchen.

•••

The backyard is a wonderland of string lights and bunting, the air is filled with the sound of laughter and music as people dance under the stars. You were lost in conversation with Pedro's father. He shared more stories of his youth, what got him to pursue medicine, and how he met Pedro's late mother, leaving you feeling nostalgic for a time you never knew.

He catches you looking away, follows your gaze straight to Pedro, and smiles knowingly. “I hope you have a good flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a little at your own transparency. “Thank you for everything, really.”

“We hope you come back soon, It was a pleasure to have you,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. He walks off, pausing for a moment to talk to Pedro. Smiles were exchanged, and then he continued his way.

Pedro looks exceptionally good tonight. Hair perfectly styled, white shirt perfectly stretching over his back. You drink up his movements as he approaches you, a smile plastered on his face.

“Who did your hair?” you ask him, knowing damn well this was someone else's doing because he didn't know how to do it. “My sister,” he replied, chuckling.

“She's doing the Lord's work,” you tell him, folding your arms, feeling exposed by the way he's staring. It's comical that you feel this way, as if he hasn't seen you naked for the past week.

“I'm gonna have to hire someone to do my hair at all times if you like it this much.”

“I like it either way,” you admitted, "but I just think it looks extra good when it's styled like this."

His mouth splits into quite possibly your favorite of his various smiles, the one that makes it look like there's a secret tucked up in one corner of his mouth. “Dance with me?”

“Always.”

You take his hand and pull him to the deck, beneath the twinkling lights and away from the crowd, while the Bee Gees' “How Deep Is Your Love” plays like the universe just wants to mock you. Pedro folds your hand up in his warm palm, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes to focus on how this feels.

It feels right, it feels perfect, and it feels like it's gonna end.

He nestles his mouth into your hair and breathes you in as you sway. His sister's words ring in your ear once again: My brother's just afraid.

You allow yourself to imagine this feeling lasting. A world within a world just for you and Pedro, where people just let you both be. Where you belong to each other. And then you invite reality forward to change the story.

You're working all day, taking endless flights to different locations, because you're trapped in a cycle of wanting to do more and never feeling like it's enough. Pedro exhausted from long days of shooting, press, taking endless flights, and getting pulled down by gravity.

Unaswered texts. Missed calls. Grief. Hurt. Distance. Missing each other. Fighting. Falling apart.

And you realize you're afraid too and this can never be.

“Pedro.”

There's a lengthy silence. His voice is a raspy, growly mutter. “I know. But don't say it.”

You don't look at each other. You just need to hold on to each other because if you look, you'll see that this make-believe game is over. You both feel the warmth of each other's embrace and the unspoken words between you. The silence is comforting yet suffocating.

His arms squeezed around you as everyone started to countdown. Cheers filled the air. Fireworks broke out over the sky in a thousand different colors. He tells you happy new year, and you say it back, never letting go.

Even though you never said it to each other, you both knew. The love was there, and it didn't change anything.

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading :) (i know this ending feels like this is it for them HOWEVER i will be making several other parts because i can't stop writing about this lol)

#love is complicated fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fic #my writing

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