anotherpedrolover

[anotherpedrolover]

Awwwwwwww that’s so cute!!!!!! Thank you!

[anotherpedrolover]

Go right ahead. I want more of him. Thanks! 😊

REBLOG IF ITS OKAY IF I PUT SOMETHING FUCKING WEIRD AS FUCK IN YOUR INBOX

[anotherpedrolover]

Everyone’s welcome to my blog. Can I be welcome?

reblog if you’re a safe place for:

lesbian

gay

bisexual

transgender

queer

pansexual

demisexual

ace

hopeless romantics

cis-men

cis-women

non binary folks

the whole spectrum etc…

follow everyone who reblogs ;)

[anotherpedrolover]

OMG, congrats!!!!!!! I can’t believe that you experienced this. Kudos to you honey!!!!! We all wish to be this girl or guy

Some of you may have seen Pedro tweeting today.

Some of you may have seen him respond to that video of a girl crying about wanting to hug him after getting her wisdom teeth out.

Well, that girl is me.

Pedro Pascal watched me cry and try to pronounce his name right, and then told me I say his name perfectly in every way.

I’m not kidding. THAT’S ME. In that video.

I’m malfunctioning. :^)

[anotherpedrolover]

Nice! I love Marcus pike and I’ve missed you and your stories! Wonderful job and I will definitely be reading more of your stories again, new and old. Btw, I read your lonely castle series a while ago, LOVE IT SO MUCH!! Just wanted to say that and that this is lovely, not my usual jam but really good.

Isolated Incident

My goodness it's been a minute! Hello, tumblr, wonderful to see you again 🤗

Description: When a hike doesn't go quite as planned you're forced to seek shelter for the night, only the little cabin isn't empty when you reach it.

Warnings: Marcus Pike x Female Reader, reader is defined as female but has no physical descriptions at all, mention of the bear vs. man thing, smut, minor angst.

Author's Note: This is something of a request from my good friend @bilibiche although I've altered the setting from winter to autumn because it just came easier to me right now, oddly enough. Sorry for the delay, and I hope you like it, love!

Word Count: 4720 Author's Masterlist Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Wednesday 12:38 PM

   ”Can I ask you a serious question?” one of your newer colleagues wonders while you’re having lunch together.

   “I thought all your questions were serious…” you say with a critically raised brow, because this particular guy is of the less than goofy sort, and it bothers you how it feels like he’s labelled you as flimsy, or lax, just because you approve of a little light-hearted fun now and then.

   “Well, yeah, but like serious as in; life or death.”

   “I’m not sure what you mean by that, but sure, ask away.”

   “Okay. Why would you risk your life just to walk to the top of a mountain?”

   You can’t help but smile a little at his apparent lack of insight into how the world works, but you soon turn serious again since it’s not really a fun topic.

   “I hike because the woods are peaceful and make me feel strong and at ease with myself. And if some wild animal does decide to try and eat me, I actually have a much better chance of scaring off a bear or puma, than a man.”

   He looks slightly confused by that.

   “Sure, but… the leading cause of death for female hikers worldwide is drowning or falling, not encountering either men or animals.”

   “And the leading cause of death for women worldwide is cardiovascular disease, but you don’t see us leading healthier lives just because we know that,” you counter, and he tilts his head with curious interest.

   “So, you equate the risk of hiking to the risk of dropping dead from an unknown disease?”

   Instead of trying to explain to him that you never actually weigh the dangers of anything you do, since that would just put you off of doing anything, ever, you decide to give him a comparison he might understand.

   “I look at it this way: When going to a club, or on a date, is even more dangerous to my overall health than being alone in the woods, why shouldn’t I walk to the top of a mountain?”

Thursday 07:41 AM

   The drive was long, especially when you’d decided to get started before dawn to get the most out of the daylight hours, but now that you’re on the trail, the fatigue has vanished and not even the light drizzle and grey skies are able to dampen your mood.    You’ve only walked this trail once before, and you’re planning on exploring a different section of it this time, which is supposedly a bit more challenging as you get closer to the top, so it somehow feels like the mountain is still completely new to you.

   In terms of height, the mountain is a small one, only about a thousand feet, but the base of it stretches for about ten miles in every direction, making it massive all the same. And the view from the peak is amazing since nothing else in the area comes close to the same height.    It boasts impressive cliffs where erosion and the occasional earthquake has cracked the stone and generated immense landslides, and since rain is pretty consistent around here, some of those cliffs have become breathtaking waterfalls.

   The woodlands are thousands of years old, untouched save for the narrow trail which is kept clear by the many hundreds of feet which tread on it every year. It’s illegal to cut down trees or start fires, or just do anything which negatively impacts the natural state of the forest, like leave garbage or dig any hole bigger than what might be needed to bury your natural waste.

   And to help people keep to these rules, a volunteer group has built little cabins on regular intervals along the trails, where hikers can take shelter in case of bad weather or if they get injured.    Each cabin has basic survival equipment like chopped wood and lighting tools, jugs of fresh water, first aid kits, candles and blankets. And there’s a wood-burning stove in all of them.    You’ve never needed to use one, but you’ve familiarized yourself with them anyway.

Thursday 11:24 AM

   The weather improves all through the morning, first with the stopping of the rain and then gradually becoming less cloudy, until the entire sky is suddenly bright blue above you, just in time for your lunch-stop.    You’ve gotten high enough by now that the trees are much fewer and further apart, and there are large sections of bared rock in between, some of them chiselled smooth by millennia of rainfall and snow, and others covered in soft moss.

   You don’t stay for long, both to avoid getting chilled by the autumn air, but also because your timeframe is limited. It takes roughly six hours to get to the top, and then between five and six hours back down, depending on how slippery it is, and that’s about as much daylight as there is for the time of year, so there isn’t much left over for you to sit around. Not if you wanna avoid having to stay the night.

   There’s a sleeping bag designed for arctic survival in the bottom of your backpack, and protein bars as emergency food if you should need it, so you are prepared to spend the night on the mountain if it becomes necessary, but you’d prefer not to.    Which is why, just as you reach the top and notice another shift in the weather, you start to feel a bit anxious.    You take a few pictures up there and give yourself a moment to just sit and catch your breath, but the looming black clouds on the horizon won’t let you fully relax.

   It looks incredibly dramatic, the contrast of the soft-looking woodlands with their colourful fall leaves against the dark pine needles, all caressed by bright midday sunlight, against the darkness of the incoming storm and the shadow it casts over the landscape further to the east.    That weather system is going to swallow up the sun soon, and if it lingers, which it looks like it probably will just going by the size of it, you’re not gonna have another six hours of daylight. You might not even have half that.

Thursday 16:18 PM

   The rain comes down so hard that even your baseball cap isn’t enough to let you have full vision in front of you, and although it isn’t fully dark yet, your flashlight is your only hope of seeing where the hell you’re putting your feet, not to mention where the trail is.    You’d hoped to make it down to where you’d parked your car, but it’s taken you twice as long to walk down as it did going up, so you still have at least four hours left, and it’ll be pitch black and way too dangerous to keep moving long before then.    So, when you reach the next cabin, you decide to call it a day.

   But as you approach the unassuming little wooden structure, you can see faint lights through the one small window in the door.    There’s no electricity out here, so it’s not like someone could’ve accidentally left the lights on when they left, unless a hiker forgot to blow out a candle, which seems unlikely. Even the rookies on this trail know better than to jeopardize their own or someone else’s chances of survival by burning down a cabin.

   So, in conclusion, there’s another hiker here, and you haven’t seen a soul along the trails so you have no idea who this person might be. But you also can’t keep going to the next one, because it’s more than an hour’s walk away.    Suddenly your conversation with George pops up in your head again, and you find yourself weighing the risk of sleeping in a cabin with a stranger, compared to the risk of walking in the pouring rain in complete darkness on a trail you’re not really familiar with.

   “Shit…” you mutter to yourself, before slowly approaching the cabin.

   You knock on the door, since it seems rude to just walk in, even though whoever’s occupying the tiny house doesn’t have any more of a claim to it than you do.    It takes a few seconds, during which you don’t hear anything at all from inside, until the door swings inward and a tall man comes into view before you.    He’s wearing wool underclothing, the figure-hugging kind designed to keep people warm and dry closest to the skin to prevent hypothermia, so he’s probably not a rookie.

   “Hi,” you half-shout over the thunder of the rain, thinking you probably look like a drenched cat, while this guy looks more like a movie star than anyone you’ve ever met.

   “Hi. Come on in,” he offers with a smile, and you only hesitate for a second because this man’s smile is as disarming as a cat’s purr.

   “Thank you.”

   Once inside you take off your pack and then get started on your soaked outer layer of clothing, while he politely closes the door for you and then moves over to the stove where he’s apparently in the middle of boiling some water.

   “That’s some monsoon level rain,” he chats while he works. “How long have you been out there?”

   “Yeah. Uh, since 7:30 this morning. I could tell from the peak that it was gonna come in fast, so I tried to keep up the pace, but the trail was still wet from the morning drizzle.”

   “I came from the south trail and there was a lot of fog down there this morning, so I decided to wait and get a later start, but then I got stuck in this instead. It wasn’t on any of the forecasts, as far as I know.”

   “No, it wasn’t. I chose this week specifically because the worst of the autumn rains have hit two weeks later for the past five years,” you share, since he’s being very kind and keeping his eyes on what he’s doing while you strip down to your underwear and then put on a dry set of underclothes, almost identical to his.

   “Same. I’ve been coming here around this time every year for almost a decade now.”

   “If you came from the south and you decided to stop here you must be doing the circle trail, right?” you ask, curious now that you’ve begun to feel comfortable around him.

   There are three trails that lead from the bottom to the top of the mountain from three different directions, each one difficult in its own way, from steepness, to long stretches where the trail is impossible to see, to marshlands and tricky seas of rounded boulders that like to shift under your feet.    But the circle trail takes you along all of them while also bringing you around the entire base of the mountain. It’s the hardest one and it takes a minimum of three days to complete.

   “That’s right. Is this your first time here?” he wonders while you take your sleeping bag out of your pack and use it as a cushion when you take a seat closer to the stove, facing him.

   “Second, but I love this mountain.”

   “You’re not a rookie, though,” he observes. “You’ve got all the right gear. I noticed the bear spray on your shoulder strap, and the stiletto on the other one.”

   “Honestly, I carry those mostly in case I need to protect myself from people,” you admit, to which he smiles again.

   “I figured. And you’re right to do so.    I know you don’t really have any reason to believe me, but I promise you won’t get any trouble from me.”

   You just nod in return, and he refocuses on the stove, where his water is now steaming hot, so he pours it into a thermos and then reaches for his wood-carved cup and what looks like a packet of dehydrated soup.

   “You want one?” he asks when he sees you looking at the cup.

   Initially, you’re about to decline because you have your own emergency food with you and he clearly has a long way to go before he’s leaving the mountain, so you should let him keep his nutrition.    But you don’t have anything you can heat up with you, except for plain water, and while you’re not exactly cold, the prospect of warm soup after a long day of walking sounds too good to pass up.

   “Do you have enough to spare?”

   “Don’t worry about it, I’m ex-military, I know how to stay alive even if I run out of food,” he offers, and then just hands you a packet. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

   You give him your name after thanking him for the soup, but while you dig out your own cup, you decide to let your growing curiosity take over.

   “So, what’s a former military man with good manners doing all alone in the wilderness on a random Thursday afternoon?”

   “That’s possibly the most subtle way anyone’s ever asked me if I’m single,” he chuckles, and the humour brings a playful glimmer to his eyes.

   “Don’t forget the subtle hint to unemployment as well,” you smile in return while stirring the soup, and a warm laughter rocks him back a little where he sits.

   “That’s right. You’re good, I like it.    Well, I’m actually really crap at taking vacations, so my boss has made it a tradition to kick me out of the office around this time of year. And since I don’t know how to exist without a purpose, I spend that time out here, which should tell you everything you might wanna know about my relationship status, reminding myself how big the world is and how easily it can crush me.”

   “Wow, you’re just a big bag of sunshine, aren’t you…” You say it with a smile, but the ironic tone is unmistakeable. Still, he just chuckles again.

   “Alright, look, I know it sounds kinda negative, but it’s really the opposite. I’ve been in wars, seen people’s lives be destroyed by hurricanes, pulled animals out of mudslides, dug skiers out of avalanches. I’ve seen survival where it should’ve been impossible, so when I come out here, it reminds me that no matter how bad a situation I might find myself in, there’s always hope.    Knowing I’m small and fragile doesn’t make me feel any less alive. It makes me feel like every step is a victory.”

   Having no words to offer in return to something so unexpectedly profound, you end up just staring at him, suddenly wanting to know absolutely everything about this man.

   “And the good manners I got from my mother,” he finishes with a wink, making you laugh.

Thursday 22:19 PM

   You spent the entire evening talking and getting to know each other, but eventually your curiosity gave way to fatigue, forcing you to accept that no matter how interesting this man is, you’ll have to part ways in the morning, so you might as well get some rest.    Learning that he’s an FBI-agent was a bit of a shock, since he looks like he belongs in Hollywood, but it’s done nothing to dull your attraction to him. And you are attracted to him. Way too much for someone you just met.

   The rain is still hammering the metal roof and the fire crackles in the stove as you try and create a comfortable sleeping place with nothing but the blankets as mattrasses on the wood floor, although the padding of your respective sleeping bags helps a bit.

   “I love the sound of the rain,” he quietly ponders after you’ve both settled in.

   “It’s like it harmonizes with the background noise of your mind and creates a melody only you can hear,” you chime in, and hear him turn his head towards you.

   You’re both on your backs right next to each other, so you turn your head as well, meeting his brown eyes, turned black by the darkness of the cabin now that you’re no longer by the fire.

   “Exactly,” he whispers, and a peculiar look sneaks into the frame of his features.

   Something you can’t name but somehow know in your soul all the same. And the longer you meet his gaze, the clearer that expression becomes.    Until you realize that his response isn’t just referring to the rain, but to the harmony that each of you have instilled in the other, by just existing in the same space.    He’s telling you that he feels it too. How the two of you just… fit.

   So, with a nervous inhale setting a thousand butterflies lose in your stomach, you roll onto your side and gently press your lips to his, silently begging him not to pull away, not to reject you when you’re taking a chance. Pouring all your hope into the perception you’ve created of him as a good man. A man worth that chance, even if just for tonight.    He meets your lips with soft desire, the most welcoming sensation anyone can offer, and you let all guards and barriers fall.

   The sleeping bags are rearranged to accommodate you both together, then the clothes are discarded without hurry or fanfare, because this isn’t two people merely wanting a release, but seeking a connection.    He settles down on top of you and you pull his sleeping bag over his back, then you lay there just looking at each other while your bodies warm one another.

   “Of all the things I imagined might happen on this hike, this wasn’t one of them,” he whispers, and at first you think he’s just being sweet, but then he continues. “Which is my way of saying I don’t have any protection with me.”

   Surprised that he’s even thought of it, you need a few seconds to decide how to respond.

   “Same. But I still want to.”

   He nods in agreement, letting his fingers trace your jawline.

   “Would you trust me to pull out?”

   You hold his gaze for a long moment, seeking any kind of crack in his gentlemanly character, and when you can’t find it, you have your answer.

   “Yes.”

   The next kiss is deeper, filled with craving and lust but still so warm and harmonious. You’re both still seeking connection, figuring out how to fit together entirely without tension, and it isn’t until you feel yourselves relax into one another that he finally unites your bodies.    He pushes himself inside and you both seem to enter a new dimension in your shared pleasure, somehow knowing what the other feels without words.

   You settle your hands on his lower back, letting one slowly slide up to the nape of his neck, making him shiver, and he scrapes his teeth against your shoulder in return, generating the same response in you.    His hips are firm but rolling with each push to give you more friction, and every time you shift yourself to alter the angle between you, he follows your lead, letting you show him what you need.

   And when the pressure builds and the need takes over, you’re already so attuned to each other that it happens organically.    But then, just as you’re about to fall into the rapture, you feel him tense. Holding back, to let you come before he has to pull out, but in doing so, he breaks the harmony.

   “Don’t,” you whisper through strained breaths, tightening your arms around him. “Stay.”

   He doesn’t question it, he wants it just as much as you do, and the moment the tension eases, you’re suddenly falling together, and it’s better than anything you’ve ever experienced before this moment.    Every time his muscles curl, your body responds, and vice versa, until you’re both so drained that your bodies won’t move at all anymore.

Friday 06:11 AM

   The dusky light of dawn wakes you, and Marcus is the first thing you think of.    He’s still there, having only just managed to lift his torso off you before he passed out last night, but his arm is resting heavy over your stomach and his legs are still entwined with yours while he sleeps soundly, nestled against you.    For a few minutes you just watch him sleep, wishing that time would stop today and let you stay here with him, but then he stirs.

   You don’t say anything even when he eventually opens his eyes and smiles at you. You just keep looking at him, and he quickly figures out why.

   “You’ll see me again, honey,” he promises in a husky morning voice, and you want to believe him.

   But life has taught you not to expect you’ll get to keep the amazing. It always seems to come and go according to someone else’s will, never listening to what you want or need.    So, you close your eyes and try to burn the image of him into the backs of your eyelids.    A kiss graces your lips then, and in his touch the promise seems so real.

   “We should pack up,” you hear yourself say, even though that’s the opposite of what you want.

   He lets go of you when you sit up, and a part of you wishes he’d forced you to stay with him, even though that would only prolong the inevitable.    You each pack in silence. There’s no fire this morning, because then one of you would have to stay until it burned out, which means that breakfast is simple and quick.

   “I know what you’re doing,” he says when you’re pulling your pack on, “I’ve done it myself so many times, trying to cut ties before I get hurt, but I’m not gonna let you do it to me.”

   “Marcus… I want to keep you,” you admit once you’ve clipped all the straps into place. “I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this connected to another person, of course I wanna see you again.”

   “Then why are you trying to say goodbye to me?” he understandably wonders, and you sigh deeply, looking for the words.

   “Because connection is hard. Relationships are hard. And I’m soft…    You look at me and you see this strong woman out here all alone, ready to take on anything, but underneath all that, I’m just scared,” you explain, somehow feeling smaller while you watch him quietly absorb and consider his reply.

   “We all are.” He says it so simply, and yet the words sound so heavy.

   Resting your hands against your hips, you lower your gaze to the floor and try to silence your fears for a minute.

   “And what if we work?” you question, watching him as he tries to follow your logic.

   You can see the moment it clicks. The moment he realizes what you’re really saying.    Because in the end, it isn’t this moment that’s going to solve anything.

   “We’ll figure it out.”

   “But that’s the thing… I finally have my life figured out. I finally have the house I’ve scraped and saved for my entire life, the job that makes me happy and lets me live the way I want to, the true friends that I can depend on for anyth-…“

   “And yet, you’re still alone,” he gently cuts you off, and the look in his eyes is so sad it makes your chest tighten. “Because you’re scared. Just like I am.”

   You step out of the cabin without another word, setting a careful pace on the slippery track, still saturated with water even though the rain has stopped, and the sun is about to rise to a mostly clear sky.    He doesn’t have your number, nor do you have his. Walking away means ending this relationship before it’s even begun, but somehow it feels like the easier path. Still, every step taking you closer to your car makes your feet feel a little bit heavier.

   The woods deepen, growing wilder with the lower altitude, until you need to keep your arms up in front of your face to keep the branches from scratching it.    You emerge from the path onto the road exactly where you’d entered it yesterday, and your car is right there waiting for you.    The drive home feels longer than any journey you’ve ever taken.

Friday 10:32 AM

   Your house somehow looks lonelier than before. Even the flowers in your garden seem to have lost some of their colour and the chirping of the birds sounds hollow to your ears.    And all this is because of him. Because for a few hours, you experienced true harmony, and now nothing could ever compare.    Part of you regrets ever meeting him, and another part regrets walking away. But it’s done.

   The rest of the day is endless and too short at the same time, spent in a haze of confusion while you do the laundry, cook, clean up the kitchen, shower and try to watch something on TV. All while Marcus fills every corner of your mind, every second that passes.    When you eventually fall asleep it’s with an anxious restlessness which has you twisting and turning, waking up every thirty minutes, and dreaming strange things in between.

Monday 07:46 AM

   “I thought you said the hikes make you feel better…”

   “Huh?”

   “When I asked you why you’d risk your life to walk up a mountain you said it was because it makes you feel better,” George reminds you at the breakfast break, but you still have no idea why he’s bringing this up.

   “Yeah. What’s your point?”

   “Only that you look more like you’re feeling worse.”

   “Thanks a lot…” you scoff. “It wasn’t a great hike.”

   “How come?”

   “It rained most of the time.”

   “And here I thought all you outdoorsy people didn’t mind rain.”

   “It just wasn’t a great hike, okay,” you snap at him, not at all interested in talking about this with him, or anyone else, for that matter.

   “Alright, I’m sorry I asked.”

   He’s quiet for a while after that, scrolling on his phone like everyone else in the break room. But just a few minutes before your break is over, he suddenly looks up from his device with a very puzzled wrinkle between his brows.

   “Uh, who the fuck is Marcus Pike?”

   You literally drop your own phone onto the table and just stare at your colleague with absolute shock. And when he doesn’t get a response, he glances back down at his phone and then looks back up at you, even more confused.

   “Why is he asking about you? How the hell does he know we work together? How did he even get my number? Who is this guy?”

   “He’s… an FBI-agent,” you finally reply, and George turns a shade paler.

   “Why does an FBI-agent wanna talk to you? And why would he go through me?”

   “My number isn’t that easy to find, I guess he decided to take a shortcut.”

   “Again, why?”

   You’re not remotely interested in sharing the details of your meeting with Marcus with your coworker, so you counter with a question instead.

   “What exactly is he asking?”

   “He just texted me asking if I could pass the phone to the woman sitting across from me. Wait… How does he know where in the room we are?”

   “Because your idea of phone security is sharing your data with absolutely everyone,” you admonish, then snatch the device from his hand.

   The moment you see the message, a call comes through from an unknown number, so you take a breath and then pick up the call before you can change your mind.

   “Hi,” he answers, identical to the way he did when he answered the door at the cabin, and it immediately makes a lovely warmth spread through you.

   “Agent Pike. This is unexpected,” you reply, highly aware that you’re in a room full of people who are all listening.

   “You’re surprisingly hard to find, honey. But once I figured out where you work, your address was a piece of cake,” he confidently announces, and there’s something in his voice that makes you feel like his confidence is about more than a victory over a technical limitation.

   “Where are you, right now?”

   There’s a soft laughter on the other end, and right then, you can hear birds in the background. The same chirps you always hear from the trees around your house.

   “I did promise you’d see me again.”

THE END

@harriedandharassed @pedrostories

[anotherpedrolover]

Why is this happening to me? I have school and things to do and I need to study and instead I’m looking at this and dying?!?!!?! WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!? THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE YOU AND I HATE YOU!!!!!

It has been 3 years and about 2 months that we have waited for a new picture of them together

and

IT WAS ALL WORTH IT

Edit:

THE HANDS. Pls 😭

[anotherpedrolover]

One of my favorite Joel Miller stories ever. This doesn’t show up in the master list of Joel Miller on your page though which is kind of strange, but either way, I freaking love this one. I’m a sucker for Joel getting down on himself and this takes a lot of boxes for me. If you’re still taking requests for Pedro Pascal characters, do let me know because I’ve got a lot of ideas that are formed and ones that haven’t even formed yet in my brain that I’d love to pick your brain about. But either way, this story is freaking amazing and please keep up with the writing on the Pedro characters.

Hi! If you’re taking requests then can I please ask for you to write a Joel x Reader one where Joel and Reader have been dating for a long time and are now finally happily living in Jackson (with Ellie), and it was all going fine until Joel’s PTSD is randomly triggered and he accidentally hurts Reader when she touches him as a way to check on him and offer him comfort like she normally would do during one of his panic attacks?

Like maybe they’re at a family bbq (with Tommy and his wife) or the bar or even at their own home when something — whether it be a certain sound, smell, word, etc. — triggers him to the point where he is totally out of it and gets startled when Reader touches him, causing him to slightly hurt her by grabbing her wrist or whatnot because he mistakes her as a threat. Once he snaps out of his PTSD episode, he immediately feels horrible and regretful despite how much Reader tries to assure him that she’s okay and it wasn’t his fault. But it’s not enough; he starts to distant himself out of fear that he’d potentially hurt her again and out of fear that he’d finally done something enough that’ll make her want to leave him. Reader catches on though and then does her best to make Joel realize that she doesn’t blame him for what happened, she’ll always be there for him — through the good, bad, and ugly —, and she’ll never leave him because he’s the love of her life. Just basically a whole lot of hurt and comfort (with a hint of angst and fluff) lol.

(Ah, I’m so sorry that this ended up being such an annoyingly long and detailed ask! I was struggling with how to express my idea in words, and just ended up rambling… I hope it’s okay! 😭 Please feel free to change anything — you’re incredibly talented, so I completely trust your wherever your creativity takes you if you choose to write this).

Anyway! Thank you so much for writing and sharing all of your stories — your writing is truly outstanding and really just your account as a whole is one of my absolute favorites! 🫶🏻

AN | Please, this is so cute but sad, but there’s also a happy ending 💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mentions of PTSD

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Think you made enough food?” you felt Joel’s arm at the small of your back as you set up the desserts you had made. You turned to him and pretended to huff before playfully swatting his hand away, “I think you’ve got enough for the whole of Jackson.”

“I never hear you complaining, Joel Miller,” you grabbed one of the chocolate cookies you’d made and took a bite before offering half to him. He playfully bit it out of your hand, causing you to giggle at him, “no manners, Mr. Miller. None at all!”

“I,” he mumbled through a mouth of cookie, “am a perfect gentleman, darlin’.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you uncovered the rest of the baked goods you’d prepared and marveled at your handiwork, “this is a family barbeque but you know that basically means everyone will be here since we’re all basically one big, weird family. Hence, I made plenty.”

“What’s a smart woman like you doing with a fool like me?” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in a for a sweet kiss, practically beaming when you pulled back, “baby.”

"Don't baby me, Miller," you planted a playful, sloppy kiss on his cheek, "go on and help your brother with the barbecue so we can actually eat."

"Fine," he clutched at his heart as he scoffed before making his way over to Tommy. You couldn't help but watch him go, shaking your head in amusement. This man.

-

The world might have been different from how it once used to be, but one of the things that never changed was the love of fireworks. Jimmy and Sandra had somehow managed to come up with a cache of them on one of their last trips out of Jackson. 

Naturally, the brilliant idea that they could be used at the barbecue was proposed and it wasn't hard to convince the younger Miller brother to go ahead with it. Under controlled circumstances, it would all be fine. 

And realistically it should have been fine…you had no reason to think that it wouldn't be. But life didn't seem to agree with you and had a completely different idea. 

You were standing with Ellie, your arms wrapped around her shoulders and you hugged onto her, waiting to see all the pretty fireworks. It hit you then and there - Ellie had never seen fireworks before! The idea in and of itself seemed wild. 

Her entire face was lit up from her big smile and the sparkling lights as the two of you watched the ones Tommy had set off. 

"Pretty cool, huh?" You pressed a kiss to the top of her head before realizing that something, or someone rather, was missing, "I'm going to go and find Joel. I'll be right back!"

Ellie was so distracted that she didn't even take much note of you leaving. It only took a few minutes before you found him near the back of the house, picking at something from one of the tables, or so you thought anyway.

"Babe?" You weren't sure if he could hear you over the clambering of the crowd and the fireworks; he didn't turn around. You walked closer to him and reached for him, "Joel?"

And then it happened all at once; he turned around and grabbed your wrist, twisting your arm at a painful angle and causing you to cry out. His eyes were dark but there was nothing there, just an empty hollowness. 

“Joel!” you tried to pull out of his tight grip but that only made things more painful. He wasn’t letting go and you didn’t know what to do - he clearly wasn’t him right now. You struggled with him for a few moments before you heard someone running up and yelling at Joel to stop. 

You looked up and felt a wave of relief wash over your body when you realized it was Tommy. If there was anyone that could help in this situation, it would be him. Tommy managed to pry Joel’s hands off you, the sheer force causing you to stumble backwards and fall onto your butt. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tommy’s hands were on Joel’s shoulders as he tried to get him to snap out of his trance. You’d never seen him like this and it was as scary as it was heartbreaking. You didn’t fully know what was going on but you had a fairly good guess, “Joel, this isn’t real, it’s just a memory. You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re at home with us.”

That seemed to quell him even if it was the slightest bit and he shook his head, almost as if he was trying to shake whatever was going on off. 

“Breathe in and out slowly,” Tommy had a calming effect on your boyfriend who seemed to relax, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly, “look around, we’re at home, we’re safe.”

Tommy took a few steps back and looked at you, an apologetic expression on his face. You swallowed the lump in your throat and as he held out his hand to help you to up and to your feet. Once you were back up, you looked over at Joel to find looking between you and Tommy,

“Joel?” your voice almost cracked as you subconsciously at your sore wrist and sore. His eyes darted to the sore area that was already red and starting to swell. 

His jaw clenched as he let out a long sigh, hanging in head in exhaustion and shame, “I’m…I’m okay.”

Tommy hesitated for a moment before gently wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “let me take you and Ellie home.”

“But-”

“Please?” he asked softly, offering you a pointed look. You realized what he was trying to convey and nodded before letting him lead you away, “I’ll be right back, big brother.”

You cast one last look at Joel but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your heart broke a little bit, but you kept repeating to yourself that everything would be alright. This was just a small bump in the road.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up the following morning, you found yourself alone in bed, Joel’s side still made up and cold. He hadn’t come to bed. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before putting on your slippers and padding down the hall. You poked your head into Ellie’s bedroom and found the girl fast asleep still; at least she was getting some rest. 

You decided to start a pot of coffee and made your way to the kitchen; when you stepped inside you found him sitting at the table and staring at his hands. You relaxed ever so slightly when you realized he was home…but something was definitely still going on. 

“Joel?” you’d been so quiet that he hadn’t heard you come in, but his head snapped up and looked at you, “h-hey, my love.”

He inhaled shakily before looking you over, his entire face turning into a grimace at the angry haze of bruising on your arm. You realized what he was looking at and moved to tuck your arm behind your back. 

“I hurt you,” was all he managed to see before you could see that his eyes were glistening with tears. You took a few steps closer and shook your head fervently, but he recoiled from you, “I did that to you.”

“No,” the fact that he tried to shy away from you didn’t stop you from getting closer, “you didn’t hurt me - that wasn’t you.”

“It was me,” gingerly, he reached for your hand and pulled out your arm so he could look it over properly. In between the marks you could see the fingerprints etched in there, “if it wasn’t me, who did this to you?”

“Baby-”

“I hurt you,” he repeated, “all because I couldn’t handle the sound of some fuckin’ fireworks.”

“Stop,” you crouched down so you could look up at him since he refused to do so, “please. It wasn’t your fault, and I don’t blame you for this. No one should - it was an unfortunate thing but it’s over and done with this and this bruising will heal and go away. But I am never going away, and if you think this one little thing will do that, then you don’t know me very well.”

“I had no control over what happened,” he was willing to concede at least that much, “and that’s what scares me. What if it happens again? What if it gets even worse the next time? What if-”

“Joel,” you reached up and put your hand on his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek, “you can’t think like that. It’s not healthy….just because it happened once doesn’t mean it will happen again. And, if for some reason it does, we’ll take it one day at a time.”

He reached up and gently removed your hand from his face, causing you to frown deeply, “I can’t trust myself around you. If anything ever happened to you or to Ellie, I would never forgive myself.”

“Joel-”

“I need some air,” he stood up and gently brushed past you, walking outside and into the backyard. You remained rooted in your spot, but sighed heavily, blinking back the tears that threatened to well up. 

Things would be okay, you knew they would…they had to be. Right? Right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was still with you, but you could slowly see him growing more and more distant as the days wore on. Despite your reassurances that you were okay, and you still loved him more than anything, it was like he became a shell of his former self. And it wasn’t just with you, which was a bit of reassurance that it wasn’t just you, but it was with everyone. You wished there was something you could do that would easily get him back to his former self. Just as your arm grew better and less bruised, he continued to pull away and create a barrier between the two of you. 

One late night, as you laid in bed reading due to your inability to sleep, Joel came in and slowly closed the door behind him, and leaned against it. When he cleared his throat, you looked up and saw a serious expression on his face. He looked just as tired as you felt. 

“What’s up?” you asked softly as you closed your book and gently set it to the side. He remained silent for a few moments, clearly searching for the right words. Once a few moments of tense silence passed he finally looked at you, "hmm?"

"I've been thinkin'," he shoved his hands into pockets. You sat up straighter and tried to push down the nagging feeling that was already forming in your tummy, "and I think it's best…I should go."

"Go?" You parroted, not fully understanding what he was talking about, "what do you mean, Joel?"

"Go," he waved his hand around, "I don't think I should be here with you and Ellie anymore."

"Oh. Oh," you frowned at him, "so you're just going to up and leave."

"Baby, I - it's not like that," he insisted softly but you weren't just about to let him go. Not that easily, "this is what's best."

You scoffed at him, not even bothering to hide your disappointment, "that's what's best, huh? For who? For who is it best? You?"

"Best for everyone."

"Well that is just a straight up lie," you got out of bed and walked over to him, crossing your arms over his chest, "its not what's best for me at all. Or Ellie."

"Baby," it was softer and much more gentle, and almost resigned in a way.

"Listen - this time I need you to listen to me," you stood in front of him, firm and tall, "this has been going on for weeks now and I'm not just going to let you keep continuing on like this."

"I just…I wouldn't forgive myself if I ever did anything to you or hurt you in any way possible," you could see his Adam's apple bobbing, "its already hard enough knowing that I did." 

"Look," you pulled back the sleeve of your sweater and held up your arm. When he refused to acknowledge what you were doing you kept a cool and even tone, "look at me."

Reluctantly he allowed himself to look at your arm, at the place he had once hurt you. Your arm was back to normal and no remnants of what had once happened. He wrapped his fingers gingerly around your wrist as he tenderly turned your arm to get a better look at it. 

"There's nothing there," you pointed out softly, "and it doesn't hurt at all. I don't think about it anymore and I don't…I never blamed you and I was never scared of you."

"You're saying that now…but what if it happens again?" You could see the genuine concern in his eyes as you reached up and gently touched his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, something he'd denied himself for what seemed like an eternity by that point.

"If it does, we'll figure it out," you meant every word you said and you hoped he knew that, "Joel, life isn't always easy and it's not always fun. But just because one hard or bad thing happened doesn't mean I'm just going to walk away. That's not who we are and that's not what we do. I'm with you forever and nothing is going to change that."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, in search of the right thing to say. Instead of verbalizing all that he was feeling, he bowed his head and pressed his forehead to yours.

"If it was me that happened to and I hurt you, would you want me to just leave?" You asked softly and you could feel the shake of his head.

"Of course not," he insisted, "it wouldn't…it would have been an accident."

"Exactly," you whispered, "how do you think I feel about you? I'm not going to let you just go. Not without a fight."

"Really?"

"Of course," you took his face in your hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "I love you, silly man. Nothing is ever going to change that. We'll be together through the good and the bad, through thick and thin. All of it."

And that was what seemed to break him. You could hear him sniffle lightly before a few tears rolled down his cheek. You gently brushed them away before making a small sound of reassurance at him. 

"I love you, baby," he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his warm, soft body. You felt him relax into your touch as you looped your arms around his shoulders and tucked yourself into his body as best as possible. You could tell that he needed this just as much as you did; he was practically melting into your body, "so much."

"I love you," it was a sentiment whispered in his ear so only he could hear it,"so, so much my love."

"When I hurt you I just…I got so worried."

"It's understandable," you insisted, "anyone would feel that way. But I want you to also understand that I love you and that nothing is ever going to change that."

"I know," a huff of laughter escaped him, "I've always known that."

"Good," you gave him the beaming smile that he still managed to fall in with over and over again, "because I've always known that you love me too. I can't promise everything, but I can promise you one thing."

"What's that?" He trailed his fingers against your jaw.

"That we'll always be together," you pressed kisses to both of his cheeks, "and we'll get through anything. And that I will always love you."

"That's three things," he teased, a glimpse of his true self coming though.

"Joel!" You were laughing though and he loved that sound, "get the sentiment though."

"I do," he agreed gently, "I love you."

"I love you too, Joel Miller."

[anotherpedrolover]

Somebody please tell me where this picture is from and if you could send me the original photo that would be great. I need to find the source

JESUS CHRIST

[anotherpedrolover]

Duly noted. I’ve read a few of your stories and I really really like them. I will definitely be requesting some Pedro character request for you. My imagination is wild though, so if any requests aren’t up your alley, just let me know.

OMG I am shaking

Do you still take requests? And that being said do you take requests for Pedrito himself or only his characters? And would you write about Javier Peña or Joel Miller? 😭🤧🤩😍

Still back to things and I do really want to write still, but can't make any promises on how long it will take. But I'll gladly take requests 😉

As for your questions. I won't write for Pedro, but I'm pretty comfy with some of his characters. I'll love to write some Joel. Javier I haven't tried yet either, but hey. I could try 😄

I'm glad to back and to talk to yoh again, my friend 🩷🩷

[anotherpedrolover]

Wow. Just… well. I did not even know I needed this. Thank you so much!!! this was weird dark sexy and beautiful. I love it.

Max Phillips and Dave York hatefucking. Or really anyone hatefucking Max, lmao!

As I always say, you hold the nuclear codes to my pussy. The immediate thots I had with this one

Dave likes that he can be as rough as he wants. He can choke Max and slap him and push him down onto the floor with a firm hand between his shoulder blades. He doesn’t have to worry about leaving marks or inflicting lasting damage. Max takes it all in stride. The sick fuck likes it when Dave gets unhinged. He goads him into it, frankly. Max gets under Dave’s skin with infuriating accuracy. He knows Dave holds disgust for the unnatural creature that Max is. He also knows it turns him on to be fucking somebody - or something - he knows he shouldn’t. It was always so amusing that a human with such a morally ambiguous at best life felt entitled to judge others for their own paths, and Max found a way to needle him about it nearly every time they met up. It didn’t have to be complicated, either. Dave shoving Max onto the bed and spitting at him don’t fucking talk and to just let him take what he wanted. Max arching and presenting himself with suspicious cooperation. Dave is too pent up to care. He just wants to work out some aggression and tension without having to really sit with the truth of just where he derives that pleasure from. He sets a punishing rhythm and is on the edge of release, and Max chooses that time precisely to look over his shoulder and make eye contact. A sadistic smirk blooms and fangs are bared, and Dave comes right then and there, looking into the face of the monster he detests and craves. There’s no pretense about the arrangement. There’s no tenderness. There’s no expectations of a relationship.  The closest they’ve ever come to true intimacy was when Dave’s lust-addled brain prompted him to ask Max to bite him just this once. Max was so overcome with his own want that he didn’t even make a snide remark about it. He hissed in pained pleasure at the thought of it and was on Dave’s neck before he could talk himself out of it. It was a euphoric release for them both with groans and whines spilling out. Once the high had worn off, Dave was disgusted with himself for giving into the darkest depths of his want. He should have more control and respect for himself than that.  And Max at first felt a smug victory for having driven Dave so mad with desire that he’d actually asked Max to bite him. But that quickly faded into self-contempt when he considered that he rarely engaged in feeding during a sexual encounter unless it was with an equal or a long kept familiar. It blurred the line of feeding to survive and feeding as an act of giving and receiving pleasure. He never wanted to share something like that with Dave. The next time they fuck, Dave shoves Max’s face into the pillows so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye, and Max is grateful for the barrier.

[anotherpedrolover]

Hey guys, this post was made a while back by my good friend @tlou-obsessed and I really wanna help her find this story. So if any of you have any ideas on what the name of the story is, that would be great. We both would love to find the story again and check it out. Also if you have any other good recommendations for some Joel and Ellie stories involving Joel whump, let me know in the comments. Thanks everybody!!

I am once again asking for help to find a fic where joel and ellie are in jackson and joel gets a migraine and something about getting skunk spray and tommy having to hoze him down, I cannot find it for the life of me.

[anotherpedrolover]

I want one of these guys to be with me. I will treat them well and they will treat me well and we will live happily ever after and that is that. also this is a really nice story

hold me like water

Marcus Moreno x f!reader | 2.9k | 18+ | ao3

summary: Marcus is a ball of nerves, just waiting for you to come home.

a/n: this is my late submission to @wannab-urs' Dom that Middle Aged Man Campaign! Sorry again for being late. I had something different planned originally but this week it turned out what I needed was something a bit softer. Maybe you could use something a bit softer, too? Thank you to @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing and Gin for taking a look. 🧡 (also yes, I'm still behind on replies, but I will catch up. love y'all)

tags/warnings: dom!reader, sub!Marcus, established relationship, established dom/sub dynamics, bathing together, acts of service?, subspace, a very intense handjob, restraining (with your body), (1) bite, referenced orgasm control, pet/dynamic names (from reader: baby, baby, my man; from Marcus: love), I named Miracle Guy Rob just for fun

...

Marcus is fidgeting again. He can’t seem to make himself stop. There’s a buzzing under his skin, a tension he can’t seem to shake.

She’s been away for 10 days, and he’s not sure how he’s going to make it to 12.

Two more days, he tells himself as he wakes up his computer and finds too many emails – and decisions – waiting for him. Barely 60 hours, he bargains as he doesn’t let himself pour a third cup of coffee, knowing it’ll just keep him awake. Only two more nights alone, he promises himself as he takes off his shoes in his empty house, too quiet with her out of town and Missy at school. 

“Less than 48 hours,” he answers when his phone rings.

“Hello to you, too, babe,” she laughs, and Marcus feels something inside of him settle at the sound of her voice. The buzzing under his skin quiets to a low hum. 

Soon.

…

You want to groan aloud as you step off the third – and final – plane, ready to be done with travel for a long while. You’re tired and all you’ve thought about since you stepped foot into the first airport this morning, hours ago, was getting home. To him.

Two weeks is far too long to go without the man you love.

You make your way to baggage claim and let your mind wander to the anticipation of being home. You picture it – walking in the front door to find Marcus waiting for you, arms open, expression soft. You smile to yourself as you step off the escalator.

When you turn, you almost freeze at the unexpected sight that greets you. A smile grows across your face as you rush forward.

Marcus is standing by the baggage claim area, grinning. He looks as handsome as ever and like home and you’ve never been so happy to see anyone in your life.

You drop your carry-on next to his feet just before you throw your arms around his shoulders. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as you fall into each other.

“Babe,” you say, smiling. “I thought you couldn’t pick me up.”

Marcus’ face is buried in your shoulder and you feel him nuzzle into your neck. He sighs. “I canceled my meetings. Couldn’t wait another minute.” He squeezes you tighter and you press a soothing kiss into his hair.

“Missed you too, babe.” You let yourself sink into his arms until you hear the announcement that the bags from your flight are arriving on the belt. You pull back slowly. “Come on – all I’ve been thinking about today is being home with you.”

When you finally meet his eyes and really look at him, though, your breath catches. That’s your Marcus, you know him better than you’ve ever known anyone. You can read him like a book. And right now he looks like he hasn’t rested or slept at all in two weeks. You haven’t seen dark circles like these since the time Missy got the flu and scared everyone, a couple of years before she went to college. Before you lived together. You think back to what he said – he couldn’t wait another minute – and you feel your heart start to beat a little faster.

“Marcus? You didn’t tell me–”

He smiles, rueful. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

You step closer, mindful of the crowd moving around you. “Hey. Baby, no. You’re mine to worry about. Right?” Your voice dips a bit lower, and you see him shiver in response. 

“Right,” he agrees, and when you meet his eyes again the emotions in them tug at your chest. He sighs. “I haven’t been sleeping well. And work…” he trails off and shrugs. “Rob was out because the baby was sick, and it was a lot. And fuck, I just missed you so much.” He smiles but it looks more sad than anything and it hurts to look at. You need to get him home. All you want is to get this man home where you can take care of him. You know just what he needs, and just what you need, and the knowledge settles in your chest, warming you. You cup his face in your hand and the way he leans into it tells you just how right you are. 

When you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips you hear the low noise he makes in the back of his throat and you know. We need to hurry. 

“Come on,” you say, reaching down and lacing your fingers together as you step away. He grabs your bag and starts to walk with you. “We need to get you home, baby.”

He nods, already looking more at ease as he lets you lead him forward. “Yes, love.”

…

You keep a firm grip on Marcus’ thigh the entire drive home. He tells you more about what really happened at work while you were gone, and you can feel him opening up to you like a flower in the sun as he lets you start to take care of him. By the time you pull up at the house, the tension in his spine has started to disappear.

After you turn off the car you scan him with a careful eye. His shoulders are looser, his expression more open. Good.

“Marcus. My handsome, wonderful man. I’m going to take care of you. Alright, baby?” He nods, and you smile as you run your fingers through his hair gently. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. But you can’t hide things from me, not like this.”

He nods again, and you can see the regret in the lines of his face. “I won’t. I’m sorry, love.”

You hum, thoughtful. “This was my first long trip in a while. We’ll do better, prepare better, if it happens again. Together. Ok?”

Marcus smiles softly. “Ok.”

“Alright.” You can hear the change in your voice, and you know Marcus hears it, too, when he straightens slightly in his seat. “Now, I want you to take my bags inside and then head up to our closet. Go inside and take off those clothes and find something more comfortable. Don’t put them on yet – take your time, and meet me in the bathroom in ten minutes.”

Marcus lets out a deep breath that seems to lift the weight of the time you’ve been away off his shoulders. “Yes, love,” he breathes, and you smile as he immediately starts to do as you said.

You step out of the car and hurry to the door – you only have ten minutes.

By the time Marcus steps inside the bathroom holding his softest clothes and wearing nothing but his underwear, you’re ready for him. You’ve filled the large bath with hot water and oils in the scents you know he likes best. The lights are low, the towels are ready, and you stopped by the kitchen for water and snacks. You’re sitting on the edge of the tub, still dressed, waiting.

“Put those down, baby, and come here.”

He does, and then moves to stand in front of you. You let your eyes trail over his bare chest and legs, appreciative as always. You know he can see it in your expression when you meet his eyes again. He’s flushed, looking pleased.

You stand, slowly, and gesture him closer. “Help me undress,” you say, voice low. “I need to wash off all that travel.”

He quirks a small smile at your words, and you know he’s remembering all the times you’ve said that before, here in this room with him.

“Of course, love,” he murmurs, already moving to do as you asked. He doesn’t rush. He lets his fingertips brush against you as he slowly undresses you, and you sink into the sensation of being there with him.

Soon enough you’re standing bare before him, and his appreciation is obvious. It makes you smile, and he blushes. 

You step into the bath, Marcus’ hand immediately coming up to steady you. As soon as you’re situated against the wall, you gesture him forward. He kneels next to the tub, so quickly you feel warmth growing in your chest. You reach out to brush your fingers across his cheek and he turns into the gesture, making you smile again.

“Help me wash.”

He nods, and you can see him sinking into the familiar motions. He reaches for the soap and a cloth and begins eagerly. You have done this together so many times, you move together easily. He lifts your arm and you turn towards him, watching as he carefully and attentively washes every bit of you that he can reach. He’s so focused on his task that it becomes almost meditative, and you can see him starting to slip into that space you know he needs, held completely within your control. His body begins to forget his stress – his shoulders relax more with every movement. Every gentle pass of the cloth relaxes you, lets you sink deeper into the moment you’re building together. 

Eventually Marcus guides you to stand and, after paying the same attentiveness to your legs that he did to the rest of you, moves to drain the tub. It refills quickly, and as it does you hold out your hand to him.

“Join me,” you say, and he does. You sink into the fresh hot water again and lean against the wall of the tub. You guide him to lean back against you, between your legs. The warmth of him is so familiar, and so missed, you can’t help but wrap yourself around him. His head comes to rest on your shoulder and you feel the remaining tension start to leach out of him into the hot water that surrounds you. You nuzzle behind his ear and smile when you feel him shiver in response. “Thank you, baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss behind his ear. “You’re so good at that.”

He stretches a bit, pleased, but you can tell he’s amused. “At bathing?”

“Yes,” you agree, sincerely, “but particularly at doing as I ask. My wonderful man.” Marcus relaxes further into you at that, and you smile again. “Now, hands on the side of the tub, please,” you say, and he immediately complies. “Rest your hands comfortably, no need to stretch. Good?” He nods and you notice his eyes have fallen closed. Good. “Keep them there, baby. Until I say.” 

“Yes, love,” he murmurs, and you hear in his voice that he has let go of everything outside of this room. He’s just yours, now, and you’ll take care of him.

You run your hands lightly down his sides and watch his sharp intake of breath. You hum as you trail your fingertips up his chest, tracing swirling designs across his skin under the hot water. “I missed you,” you say, lips brushing against his ear. His grip tightens around the edge of the tub. “I missed talking with you, and waking up next to you, and sleeping by you at night,” you continue as your hands press more firmly against his chest and arms. You can see his interest, which had flagged a bit as he washed you so attentively, start to grow again under the water. “I missed taking care of you,” you whisper, wrapping your left arm around his upper chest firmly and squeezing. “And I missed how perfectly you fall apart under my hands... My handsome man.” He moans, softly, and you slide your right hand down, smoothly, right to where you both want it. 

You wrap your hand around his cock, gently, and begin to tease at his length. He’s already hard, and you feel his breath catch at your touch.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” You pump his cock slowly as you ask.

He shakes his head before burying his face in your neck.

“No? I told you you could.” You’d known, though, that he wouldn’t.

“No,” he says, and his voice is low and soft. “I didn’t want… not without you.”

You smile and press a kiss into his hair. “My sweet man. I don’t want you to neglect yourself.”

His hips twitch forward as you move your hand smoothly down and back up, teasing around the head. Your pace is so slow it’s barely a pace at all, and you know the anticipation will send him falling steadily downwards and inwards until he’s limp in your arms.

“I wanted you,” he gasps, and you wrap your arm tighter around his chest. “It’s always better with you.” You admire the strength in his arms and his back as he wrestles against himself, keeping his hands firmly in place on the sides of the bath. It’s beautiful.

You file away a thought about how to handle this, if you have another long trip – phone sex, probably. And the thought sends a tingle of anticipation down your spine.

“I always want you, baby,” you murmur, squeezing a bit tighter and moving just a bit faster. He twitches gratifyingly in your grip. “Now let me take care of you, hmm? You can let go, now. I’ve got you.”

Marcus sighs and somehow curls even more snugly into your arms. You start a slow and steady pace and feel his heart rate increase in his chest. 

“That’s it,” you whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss just in front of it. “My handsome man, relax for me, hmm?” You move just a bit faster and feel his hips thrust forward. “You’re so beautiful like this, baby. So perfect for me.” When you twist your hand around the head of his cock, Marcus whines, softly, and you smile. “You love me so well, Marcus,” you say, softly, and he gasps. “You’re so good, baby. So good for me.”

You move your hand faster, grip his cock tighter, and the sound he lets out is almost like a sob. He has a vice-like grip on the sides of the tub and you wrap your legs around his, holding him down and in place. Marcus’ chest begins to rise and fall more swiftly with his unsteady breaths and the water of the bath moves choppily around you. 

You press a soft line of kisses up his neck. “I’ve got you. Let go for me, baby,” you say, voice firm. “Now.” You bite down on his shoulder, and with a sharp exhale, he does.

Marcus’ body goes tense as he moans your name, and you feel his release overcome him completely. You pump your fist two, three more times, and then he goes completely boneless in your arms.

You release his cock, wrapping both arms around his chest, pressing soft kisses all along his neck and shoulders. “Yes, Marcus,” you praise, “that was so beautiful, baby. You did so well.”

He says your name again, softly, and you tighten your arms around him. You know he’ll need a few minutes to come back, to swim back upwards through the pleasure and relaxation and release. “I’ve got you, baby.” Your voice is low, meant just for him. “Take your time.”

You whisper and murmur soft praises to him as he drifts, and you feel his arms twitch as he starts to come back to himself. The water is still warm, but you know you’ll need to get out soon. Slowly, you release your hold on him and smooth your hands along his arms. You carefully encourage his hands to let go of the sides of the tub, gently massaging his palms as he does. 

When he sits up slightly and turns to look at you, you smile. “Hello there,” you greet him, and he smiles back.

This Marcus is so different from the one who met you at the airport. He looks well-rested, with all the cares of the world lifted from his shoulders. His brow is soft, his eyes warm as he looks at you. The soft smile that plays at his mouth is so handsome it takes your breath away.

“Hello, love,” he says, and leans in to kiss you. “Welcome home,” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile.

“Thank you,” you say between kisses. “Next time, we won’t let it get that bad, hmm? And you’ll talk to me. And tell me the truth.”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, love. I promise. I got so lost in my own head. All I could do was wait for you to come back.”

You run your hand through his hair gently, before bringing it down to rest against his cheek. “We’ll talk about it later, alright? But I think I know how I want you to show me just how sorry you are.” You let a bit of teasing enter your voice, but you know he knows you’re serious.

He leans into your hand. “Anything, love,” he breathes, and his desperation to please you makes you smile again.

“Well, baby,” you tighten your grip on his hair and smile when he gasps and leans into it. “I’m going to go lay on the bed, and you’re going to dry off and meet me there.” You kiss him and nip softly at his bottom lip. “And then you’re going to make me come with your mouth as many times as I want until I tell you to stop.”

He shudders in expectation and smiles. “Yes, love,” he breathes. He watches, wide eyes tracking your every move as you stand from the tub. “Please.”You smile and lead him towards the bedroom. My perfect man.

...

a/n: thoughts? lol

[anotherpedrolover]

Well, the date is marked in my calendar and I know that I will have to find a sexy as hell outfit that I will feel perfectly justified saying that I wore for him, even though it’ll just be to the movies and I will be freaking the hell out in the theater. How will you all be spending your June 13th?

First poster of Celine Song’ MATERIALISTS

[anotherpedrolover]

Nice to see the girl be wrong for once. I like the ending how they both agreed to be better and it’s nice to see you well resolved happy ending. I Always like those. Thanks 😊

redemption : short dress. l Javier Peña

❤️‍ broken hearts seek redemption ❤️‍

Summary:  you didn't dress for him

Warnings:  a little bit of angst, but mainly fluff, some kissing, some bad words

A/N: I don't like leaving them like this. something like a mini series, not necessarily good and nice stories. scribbles. I hope that despite everything you will stay with me.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

first part is here >>short dress <<

a few ways to break a heart [masterlist]

broken hearts seek redemption [masterlist]

"Someone's waiting for me."

The security guard pointed to a woman standing with her back to you and looking at the information posted on the wall in the lobby. You approached her quickly.

"Ma'am." you greeted, and the words suddenly got stuck in your throat.

Ana looked at you with a soft smile.

"Good morning." Your name flowed from her lips in joyful excitement. "I'm so glad you found time for me."

"Sure. What brings you here?" you asked nervously, clenching your fingers around the files you had with you. "Javier should be..."

"In the office, I know." she interrupted you, waving her hand carelessly. "He's been sitting there for weeks."

Your gaze slid down her shapely body and stopped at one much more noticeable spot. Her rounded belly stood out clearly under her loose dress. You felt as if someone had thrown a heavy stone into your stomach.

"I came to see you, I wanted to thank you."

You frowned. "I'm sorry, but… I don't think I understand."

"Marco. Marco Martínez." Ana didn't care about your words. "You made sure Javi questioned him, and then you helped him get out of town. Thank you."

"Oh, is that your family?"

"His my fiancé." Ana's gentle hand stroked her tummy. "We're about to welcome our first child. Thanks to you, and Javi, we have a chance to start over." Her hands quickly grabbed yours and squeezed them tightly. "Javi said he could always count on you. Thank you. You did so much for us!"

"It's nothing, really." You smiled nervously. "So you and Javier..."

Ana laughed quietly. "Oh, we haven't seen each other for a long time! He met some woman, fell in love, and now his heart is broken… I told him that if he didn't take care of her and be honest, this is how it would end. Poor boy." 

She shrugged as if that meant she expected it. A cold shiver ran down your spine.

"I have to go now." Ana glanced at her watch. "My cousin promised to take me to Marco. I just wanted to thank you." She squeezed your hand once more and hurried out of the building.

You felt as if you had suddenly lost ground under your feet. You hadn't talked to Javi in ​​months. After your fight, he tried to meet up with you a few times, he even came to your office, but you avoided him like the plague. In the end, he gave in.

But that didn't stop you from thinking about him. After the resentment came anger, then sadness and... longing. You missed him, but you didn't want to admit it. Only anger at Javier kept you away from him.

Ana destroyed that fortress, though. 

Thoughts were swirling in your head for the rest of the day. The pangs of conscience about Javier were getting stronger and stronger. You knew that your reaction was appropriate for what you saw, but you didn't let Javier have a say, he couldn't defend himself.

He might have been an asshole, but you knew that he always tried to be fair to you. With better or worse results.

So you decided to listen to Ana and right after work your legs took you to his office. You passed by more rooms, empty or almost empty, people wanted to go back to their homes, except for one of them.

He was sitting at his desk, wrapped in cigarette smoke, tapping away at the typewriter, his brows furrowed with concentration. The light blue shirt was tight on his broad shoulders. You saw him ruffle his hair with his hand and flick the cigarette into the ashtray standing on the desk.

"A lot of work?" you said, and Javier immediately looked up in your direction, "Hi."

"Hi. I wasn't expecting you." he replied, getting up from his chair and putting out his cigarette.

You walked a little closer to him. "I wasn't planning on coming, but... I talked to Ana today."

Javier nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched you carefully. He missed your voice so much, not to mention the sight of you. And now you stood before him, visibly confused, but more beautiful than Javier remembered you. His heart was beating like crazy.

"I think you deserve an apology." you continued with difficulty maintaining eye contact with him, Javier tilted his head searching for your eyes with his "When I saw you and Ana, I fell into despair... Shit! I was jealous of you. And I felt totally insecure... She was always so beautiful... I was sad and angry, I wanted revenge. I turned off my thoughts, I focused only on this regret I felt inside. I should have talked to you..."

"Hermosa..." this sweet nickname flowed from his lips so naturally, he missed it "I completely understand you. I'm an asshole..."

"Javier, please..."

"No! I'm serious. I was an asshole, but when I met you..." he took a deep breath "Fuck! You made me want to change, for you. For us. If I had been completely honest with you, if I had trusted you... It wouldn't have happened."

"If I had let you speak then..." you added, and he smiled slightly.

"I think we both fucked this up." He spread his hands and shrugged. "But it's good that we cleared that up now..."

You nodded. 

You weren't sure what you should have said or done at that moment. Javier's eyes were staring at you with such intensity that you felt like you were standing completely naked in front of him. This man was your biggest weakness.

"I think I'll go now." You finally spoke. "You have a lot of work to do, I don't want to bother you any longer."

"Do you need a ride?" Javier suggested quickly.

"I thought you were doing something important."

'You're more important, hermosa.'

You smiled, Javier grabbed his jacket and slowly you both headed to the elevator. Even before the doors opened you felt his fingers timidly brush your hand.

It was like striking a match. Heat began to flow through your veins and when you entered the elevator and the doors closed behind you, you and Javier were already kissing each other fiercely, hungrily. His hands squeezed your hips tightly as he pressed you against the wall.

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' You whispered, taking his face in your hands and kissing him.

'Me too. Fuck! Never again, hermosa. Never.' he panted. 'I'll never let you out of my hands again.'

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[anotherpedrolover]

I just wanna be the girl in this beautifully written lovely world

Heavy Sets

Description: Gym crush? More like gym smash. When [You] and Pedro Pascal meet, it's less about the reps and more about the raw, undeniable heat between you. Prepare for some seriously sweaty moments.

So, grab a cold drink, get comfy, and get ready for a wild ride. You've been warned! 😉

Pairing: You / Pedro Pascal

Warnings ⚠️: Adult Content, Minors do not interact, dirty and flirty talk, oral sex (m. rec), unprotected sex, rough sex, cream pie, SMUT, age and look of reader is not described.

Word count: 1,680

P.S Pedro works hard, but I'm gonna work even harder for you my beloved readers 💜

The beginning of March. A time of burgeoning energy, mirroring the sudden, fierce heat within you. You enter the gym, a private sanctuary, a place where celebrities can blend in, where anonymity is a courtesy.

You begin your warm-up, a familiar routine, but your focus is fractured. You're doing some ab work, then transitioning to legs, the burn a welcome ache.

Jason, your trainer, approaches, a playful grin on his face. "Come on, [Y/N], you can push harder than that! Feel the burn!" He punctuates his encouragement with a light tap on your leg, a gesture that usually makes you laugh. Today, though, your gaze keeps drifting.

You catch your breath, leaning against the weight bench, the cool metal a welcome contrast to the heat radiating from your skin. It's then that you see him. Pedro.

He's a force of nature, a raw, concentrated power. The heavy weights he pushes seem almost weightless in his hands, his muscles flexing and rippling with each controlled movement. The sweat glistening on his skin only amplifies his magnetism.

You've seen him before, of course—a fleeting glimpse in the gym's mirrored walls, a brief conversation with Jason. But today, something is different.

The air crackles with an undeniable energy, a pull that's impossible to ignore.

His arms, those magnificent arms, strain and flex, and you feel a strange heat spreading through you, a longing that has nothing to do with the workout.

You feel like you’re being drawn into his orbit, a moth to a flame. You’ve seen him from afar, but you haven't chance to meet him.

Fuck, you think, the word a silent prayer. You can’t wait anymore.

Jason's voice snaps you back to the present. "Alright, enough resting! Let's get back to those squats. You need to go harder, [Y/N]. You know what they say, no pain, no gain!" He winks, and you force a smile, but your eyes are drawn back to Pedro.

He finishes his set, wiping his brow with a towel. For a heartbeat, his gaze meets yours. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something undeniable, in his brown eyes.

He pauses, just for a moment, and then he starts to walk towards you.

Your heart pounds in your chest. He's coming closer, his presence filling the space around you. He stops in front of you, a slight smile playing on his lips. "You look like you're working hard," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Mind if I join you for a set?"

"Hey, Pedro" you manage, your voice a little breathless, a little shaky. "Sure, join me."

He smiles, a warm, genuine smile that makes your stomach flip. "What's your name?," he asks, extending a hand. His grip is firm, strong.

"I'm [Y/N]," you reply, your own hand trembling slightly as you take his.

Jason, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, steps in, a knowing grin on his face. "Alright, you two," he says, "since you're working out together, I've got a few partner exercises that'll really get those muscles burning."

He demonstrates a series of stretches and lifts, some of which require close contact. And close is an understatement. Pedro's body is a furnace, radiating heat. His hands, when they touch you, are firm and sure, sending shivers down your body.

Shit, shit, you think, your heart pounding. His body is so close, the scent of his sweat and cologne intoxicating. You're sweating too, dripping, your own heart beating faster every time his eyes meet yours, every time his hands brush against your skin.

A strange, pulsing heat starts to build between your legs, a wet ache that grows with each passing moment. His growls, low and guttural as he strains with the exercises, are a symphony of raw masculinity, driving you wild.

If this goes on any longer, I’m going to lose it right here.

Every time his hands touched you during the exercises, your heart had hammered against your ribs, a frantic rhythm that threatened to betray your growing desire. And now, as he stands so close, the heat radiating from his body, you feel like you’re gonna melt.

Finally, Jason calls a halt. "Alright, that's enough for today," he says, his eyes twinkling. "You two worked up a good sweat."

He offers you both protein drinks, and as he walks away, Pedro turns to you, his eyes dark and intense.

"So, [Y/N]," he says, his voice a low rumble, "do you come here often?" The question is casual, but the way he looks at you, the way his gaze lingers on your lips, is anything but that.

He leans in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I haven't seen you around much," he says, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Or maybe I just haven't been paying close enough attention."

"Maybe you haven't," you reply, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"That's a mistake I intend to rectify," he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering on the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts beneath your workout top. "You have a way of…distracting a man."

He takes a sip of his protein drink, his eyes still fixed on yours. "You know," he says, "I'm always looking for a good workout partner. Someone to push me, to keep me motivated."

He pauses, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Someone as beautiful and determined as you."

"Is that so?" you ask, your heart pounding.

"Absolutely," he says, his voice husky. "And I have a feeling we'd push each other…in more ways than one."

He winks, and a wave of heat washes over you. "Tell me, [Y/N], what do you do when you're not making men sweat?"

You lean in, your breath warm against his ear, and whisper, "I do lot of fun stuff. And I have a few ideas I could do with you." your voice laced with a playful promise.

"But they involve a lot more…sweat." You let your fingers trail lightly down his arm, lingering on the hard muscle beneath his skin. "Unless, of course, you're into that."

He shivers slightly, his smile widening. "I'm into whatever you're into," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Especially when you whisper things like that."

His eyes are dark, intense, and you know he wants you just as much as you want him.

You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear, and whisper, "I'm thinking about what those arms could do to me," you murmur, your voice a low, husky purr. You let your gaze drop to his lips, then back to his eyes, a silent invitation. "I have a feeling you'd be very good at making me scream."

"Tell me," he says, his voice rough, "tell me one right now." He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your hand.

The passion and desire in his eyes are almost palpable. He's impatient, eager, and you can see the slight bulge straining against his workout shorts. Your teasing has worked its magic.

A low growl rumbles in his chest, a sound that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "Screaming is music to my ears," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Especially if it's gonna be your voice." He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"I want to see if those arms can lift me," you murmur, your fingers tracing the hard line of his bicep. "I have a feeling they're strong enough to do a lot more than just lift weights."

You lean in, your breath ghosting across his ear. "I want to feel them wrapped around me, pulling me close, holding me down. I want to feel them on my skin, everywhere, exploring every inch of me."

You nip at his earlobe, then whisper, "I want to feel them guiding me, lifting me, so I can take you deep inside me, until we're both screaming."

He smiles, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I'm going to show you," he says, his voice a low growl. "I'm going to show you exactly what these arms can do."

He took your hand, his grip firm and possessive, and led you through the gym, past the empty workout stations, to the secluded shower area. A quick glance confirmed you were alone. He locked the door, the click echoing in the sudden silence.

He turned to you, his eyes dark and hungry, and gently cupped your face in his hands. He leaned in, his lips finding yours in a searing, demanding kiss. He tasted of sweat and raw desire, and you met his passion with equal fervor.

He pulled you closer, his body molding against yours, the heat radiating from him like a furnace. His arms tightened around you, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against his already hard body. You could feel his bulge pressing against your already wet pussy, a delicious friction that sent shivers down your spine.

"Ohh Cariño...you are gorgeous." he groaned against your lips. "I've been wanting to fuck you since the moment I saw you."

He nipped at your neck, then whispered, "I want to taste you, to feel you wrapped around me, to hear you scream my name as I fill you." His hand slid down your back, cupping your ass, pulling you even closer. "I want to bury myself so deep inside you, you won't be able to think of anything else."

He pinned you against the cold tile wall, his right hand holding your face captive as his left hand slipped beneath your workout shorts, finding the slick heat between your legs. He smirked, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as he felt how ready you were for him. He teased you with his fingers, circling your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you, then slipping a finger inside, stretching you, preparing you.

You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily. You kissed him roughly, pulling him closer, your hands roaming over his hard body, desperate to touch him everywhere. You reached down, your fingers closing around his already throbbing cock, and whispered, "I want to suck your cock."

He smiled, a feral grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "Impatient," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "I like that." He pulled down his shorts, revealing his magnificent erection, thick and veiny, pulsing with anticipation. You knelt before him, taking him into your hand.

God, it's huge. I hope I can take it all. Don't gag.

You licked the tip, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, and he cursed, his body tensing. His right hand on the wall, his left hand kneading your shoulder.

You took him deeper, sucking him hard, your saliva slicking his length. He tastes so good, salty and musky. You jerked him off with your right hand, increasing the tempo, driving him wild, your lips working him like a pro. "You like that, don't you?" you purred against his cock. "You like the way I take you deep."

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice ragged. "You're so good. So fucking good."

"Wait," he groaned, his voice ragged. "I'm going to...I want to be inside you." He pulled you to your feet, his eyes burning with desire.

As you stood up, slightly wobbly, after taking him deep into your mouth, he reached out, his fingers trembling slightly, and pulled up your workout top. He slid it off your shoulders, his eyes widening as he took in your bare breasts. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice thick with awe. "You are so beautiful." His gaze lingered on your body, his eyes dark with desire.

You quickly pulled down your shorts and panties, and he lifted you up with his huge arms, pinning you against the cold tile. The sudden chill was a stark contrast to the burning heat between your legs. He positioned himself between your thighs, and with one powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, stretching you to your limit.

You cried out, your body arching against his.

He's so big, so full. It hurts, but it's a good hurt.

He kissed you roughly, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he began to move, his rhythm slow and deliberate at first, then building in intensity. "You're so tight," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "So wet for me. So fucking good."

He gripped your hips, pulling you closer, driving deeper with each thrust.

"I'm going to fuck you until you can't feel your legs," he growled. "Until you beg me to stop."

Your bodies were pressed together, so close you could feel every muscle, every curve, every pulse of heat. It was as if you were one being, two halves finally joined. He moved inside you, slow and deep, then faster, harder, his thrusts powerful and relentless.

His heavy breathing filled the small space, a raw, animal sound that mingled with your own gasps and moans. His dark eyes, intense and focused, never left yours, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of your face. His lips, so sweet and demanding, found yours again and again, each kiss a searing brand.

I don't want this to end, you thought, I wanna feel like this forever.

The feeling of him inside you, the heat, the power, the sheer intensity of the moment—it was intoxicating.

He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, deeper, each one a brutal, delicious invasion.

He ground his hips against yours, his cock rubbing against your walls, hitting that sweet spot sending waves of pure pleasure through you. "Say it, [Y/ N]. Say you're mine."

His thrusts were relentless, each one pushing you closer to the edge. "I'm going to make you come so hard," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "So fucking hard."

"Fuck yes..I'm gonna be yours..Pedro" you said letting out low moan.

"Tell me you like it," he commanded, his voice rough. "I want to feel you clench around me, milking me dry."

"Fuck yes..I like it," you gasped, your nails digging into his back.

"Pedro...Fuck me harder." You arched your back, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. "Fill me up," you moaned. "I want to feel you inside me, owning me."

He groaned, his thrusts becoming more frantic.

"I want to leave bruises on your beautiful ass."he growled, his voice thick with lust.

"Fuck yes..." you moaned, your breath heavy, "I want you to mark me..I want everyone to know I'm yours."

I'm going to come. I'm going to come for him.

He gripped your hips, slamming into you with relentless force. He's so hard, so deep. I'm so close.

"You're so fucking perfect. I could fuck you all night."," he says, his voice a low, guttural growl.

"I can feel you milking me, baby. So good." He ground his hips against yours, his cock rubbing against your swollen clit, sending waves of pure pleasure through you. "Say my name," he commanded, his voice rough.

I'm going to come for him. I need him to push me over the edge.

"Come for me, [Y/N]. Come for me, mi pequeña diabla. Let me hear you scream."

"Pedro!" you cried out, your body convulsing as you reached your peak. "Fuck, yes! I'm coming!"

He thrust into you one last time, a powerful, shuddering stroke, and then he was coming too, his hot, thick cum flooding your core.

"Good girl," he groaned, his voice ragged. "That was fucking amazing." He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

He feels so good. I want him to never stop.

He stayed deep inside you, the heat of his body still filling you, the mingled juices of your passion dripping down your thighs.

He kissed you gently, cupping your face in his right hand, his thumb tracing the soft curve of your lips. "I want to taste these lips every day, Muñeca!" he murmured, his voice husky with satisfaction.

"I want to fuck you every day," you replied, your voice a little breathless, "several times a day. Until you pass out."

He smiled, a slow, predatory grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "I want that too," he said.

"There are things I want to do to you," you whispered, your voice laced with a playful promise. "This was just the intro, Papi.."

He kissed you again, a lingering, tender kiss that spoke of unspoken promises. "You've awakened something in me, [Y/N]," he murmured, his voice filled with a raw emotion that made your heart ache. "Something I thought was long gone."

"Let's shower," he said, his voice regaining its playful tone, "and get some coffee. My treat."

Your legs were shaking, a delightful tremor that spoke of the intense workout you'd just received. You were exhausted, not just from the gym, but from the way he'd just thoroughly fucked the your soul out of your body.

Deadly fever, please don't ever break

Be my reliever ’cause I don’t self medicate

And it burns like a gin and I like it

Put your lips on my skin and you might ignite it

Hurts, but I know how to hide it, kinda like it

After a quick shower, where he tenderly washed your back and kissed the bruises he left on your hips "I'm loving every inch of you." He murmured on your ear.

You sneaked out of the gym.

You could barely walk. "I can't drive like this," you said, your voice a little shaky.

"I'll take you home," he said, his eyes filled with concern. He helped you with your bags, then gently assisted you into his car. He picked up coffee for both of you, then drove you to your apartment.

"Would you like to come in?" you asked, your voice laced with a hopeful anticipation.

He smiled, his eyes warm and kind. "I'd love to," he said. He was so kind, so sweet, a stark contrast to the raw, primal man he'd been in the shower.

Inside your apartment, the atmosphere shifted. You ordered a pizza, sharing slices and easy conversation. He listened intently as you talked about your life, your dreams, your passions.

As the evening drew to a close, he pulled out his phone. "Can I have your number?" he asked, his voice soft.

You smiled, your heart fluttering. "Of course."

He entered your number, then looked up at you, his eyes sparkling. "I'd love to take you to dinner tomorrow night," he said, his voice laced with a hopeful anticipation. "Like a real date. If you'd like."

"I'd love that," you replied, your smile widening. "I'd really like that."

He leaned in, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "Good," he murmured, his voice husky. "Because I can't wait to see you again." He kissed you softly, a tender, lingering kiss that promised more to come. "I'll pick you up at seven," he said, his eyes filled with a warm light. "get some rest, preciosa." (beautiful)

He kissed your forehead, then turned and walked out the door, leaving you with a lingering warmth and the sweet anticipation of tomorrow night.

Thank you for the reading 💜

Please like,reblog and comment. ❣️

God why did you gave me dirty mind and a kink for an older man with brown eyes, and obsession for Pedro Pascal...Why..???

That gym photo was inspiration for this fic. My mind couldn't stop imagining this 😈🫣

I listened to the Billie Eilish song - My strange addiction while writing this. Fits perfectly 👌

[anotherpedrolover]

Sweet beautiful bounty hunter Din Djarin. You are enough and you are so loving and caring and protective and smart, you do not need to feel guilty about not being able to be everywhere at once. You are enough because you are amazing. And so is the incredibly talented writer who wrote this. Good job 👏

Heya! May i have a Mandalorian x fem!reader? She's like his mechanic or something but she's also very attached to Grogu and is very caring towards them both. Maybe they're out somewhere and are attacked and reader gets hurt protecting Grogu and Din realizes how much he cares for her?

author's note: Thank you so much for requesting <3

A Home Among the Stars

The hiss of pressurized air filled the workshop as you carefully adjusted the hydrospanner in your hand. Your fingers danced over the controls, tightening bolts along the Razor Crest’s engine panel. Despite the old ship’s wear and tear, it had a charm that only a mechanic could appreciate—or someone who spent hours trying to keep it in the sky.

And that someone was you.

“Din,” you called out, wiping your grease-covered hands on your pants. You didn’t care about appearances when it came to your work. “When’s the last time you actually replaced the heat shielding? This thing’s held together with spit and hope.”

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian clad in his beskar armor, leaned against the entryway, arms crossed. His helmet tilted slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could almost feel his sheepishness.

“It works,” he said simply, voice smooth and modulated.

You rolled your eyes, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Yeah, well, it won’t for long if you keep running it into blaster fire and letting Jawas ‘fix’ it with spare parts.”

A soft coo interrupted your lecture, and you glanced to the side to find Grogu perched on a crate, watching you intently. His big eyes sparkled with curiosity as his tiny hands fiddled with a stray bolt you’d left lying around.

“And you,” you said, smiling warmly as you crouched in front of him. “That’s not a toy, little guy.”

Grogu tilted his head, holding the bolt up as if in protest.

“Don’t encourage him,” Din muttered, stepping closer.

Ignoring the bounty hunter, you gently took the bolt from Grogu’s hands, replacing it with a small, smooth rock you kept in your pocket. It was something you’d found on one of your countless scavenging trips—a perfect fit for tiny hands.

“There,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over Grogu’s cheek. “Much better.”

The child made a happy sound, clutching the rock tightly. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your chest warming with a tenderness you hadn’t felt in years.

“You spoil him,” Din said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

You straightened, shooting him a look. “And you don’t?”

Din shrugged. “He’s—”

“Special,” you finished for him. “I know. And he deserves to be treated that way.”

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the hum of the ship and Grogu’s contented babbling filling the air.

“You’re good with him,” Din said eventually, his voice quieter than usual.

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. “He’s easy to love,” you replied, glancing at Grogu. “Both of you are.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately busied yourself with your tools, pretending you hadn’t just bared your soul in the middle of an engine repair.

Din didn’t respond right away, and the weight of his gaze felt almost tangible. You wondered what thoughts were running through his mind behind that expressionless helmet.

“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You looked up, surprised. His stance had relaxed slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you felt the sincerity in his words.

“Anytime,” you said, giving him a small smile.

The planet was quiet, almost too quiet, as you followed Din through the narrow, winding paths of the market. It was the kind of place that seemed like it had more shadows than people, where eyes lingered too long and conversations hushed when strangers passed. Din walked ahead, his hand resting lightly on the blaster at his hip, while Grogu cooed softly from his floating pod beside you.

“Stick close,” Din said, his voice low but firm. He didn’t turn to look at you, but you could tell from the slight tilt of his helmet that he was checking on you regardless.

“I always do,” you replied, scanning the area. The market stalls were packed with all sorts of strange goods: glowing crystals, exotic fruits, scraps of tech you couldn’t identify. Despite the eerie atmosphere, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

Grogu made a delighted sound as you passed a stall selling shiny trinkets, his little hands reaching out toward the wares.

“No,” Din said immediately, his tone that of a long-suffering parent.

“Oh, come on,” you said, smiling as you reached into your pocket. “It’s just a little shiny thing. Let him have it.”

Din sighed, but he didn’t stop you as you handed over a few credits to the vendor and picked up a small metal orb. You placed it in Grogu’s hands, and his wide eyes sparkled with joy as he turned it over, inspecting it like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“You’re going to spoil him rotten,” Din muttered.

“That’s the goal,” you shot back, grinning.

The Mandalorian shook his head, but you could see the faintest tilt of his helmet that suggested amusement.

The moment of levity didn’t last long. A sharp noise—a blaster bolt cutting through the air—shattered the peace of the market. Din moved before you even processed what was happening, his blaster drawn and his body positioned protectively in front of you and Grogu.

“Get to cover,” he barked, his voice tense.

You didn’t argue. Scooping Grogu’s pod closer to you, you ducked behind a stack of crates, your heart pounding in your chest.

The attackers came into view a moment later—three figures clad in mismatched armor, their weapons raised. You didn’t recognize them, but their intent was clear.

“Hand over the kid,” one of them growled, his voice distorted by a crude helmet.

“Not happening,” Din replied coldly.

Blaster fire erupted, the sound deafening in the confined space. Din moved with precision, returning fire and taking down one of the attackers in seconds. But the others were quick, flanking him and forcing him to retreat closer to your position.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the small blaster Din had insisted you carry. You weren’t a fighter, not like him, but you weren’t about to sit idly by while he and Grogu were in danger.

Grogu whimpered, clutching the shiny orb you’d given him, and your resolve hardened. You shifted to shield his pod with your body, your eyes scanning for an opening.

One of the attackers broke away, heading straight for you.

“Din!” you shouted, but he was too occupied with the other assailant to intervene.

You didn’t think. You didn’t have time to. As the attacker raised his weapon, you lunged forward, firing your blaster. The shot went wide, but it was enough to throw him off. He snarled, swinging his rifle like a club. The impact caught you in the side, and pain exploded through your ribs as you hit the ground hard.

“Stay away from him!” you gasped, struggling to your feet.

The attacker ignored you, his focus locked on Grogu. Adrenaline surged through you, overriding the pain, and you threw yourself between them just as he raised his rifle again. The butt of the weapon struck your shoulder, sending you sprawling.

“Hey!” Din’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and furious.

Before the attacker could land another blow, Din was there. His blaster fired point-blank, dropping the man instantly.

The last assailant, realizing he was outmatched, fled, leaving the market eerily quiet once more.

Din turned to you, his helmet tilting as he took in your crumpled form.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice tight.

“I’m fine,” you lied, wincing as you tried to sit up.

“You’re not fine.” He was already kneeling beside you, his gloved hands hovering uncertainly before settling on your arm. “Why didn’t you stay behind cover?”

You glanced at Grogu, who was peering out of his pod with a worried expression. “I couldn’t let them hurt him,” you said simply.

Din was silent for a moment, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. Then, without a word, he scooped you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing.

“Din—”

“Quiet,” he interrupted, his voice softer now but still firm. “We’re leaving.”

Grogu’s pod floated along beside him as he carried you back toward the Razor Crest, his stride purposeful.

Back on the ship, Din set you down carefully on the small cot in the corner of the hull. He moved with an efficiency that spoke of experience, pulling out a medkit and sitting beside you.

“Let me see,” he said, gesturing to your side.

“I told you, I’m fine—”

“Let me see,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You sighed, relenting as you pulled up your shirt to reveal the bruises blooming across your ribs. Din’s hands stilled for a moment before he reached out, his touch surprisingly gentle as he examined the injury.

“You’re reckless,” he said quietly, though there was no anger in his voice—only something softer, something you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re one to talk,” you muttered, earning a faint huff of amusement from him.

His gloved fingers lingered on your skin for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away, reaching for a bacta patch. As he applied it, you noticed how careful he was, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

“Why would you do that?” he asked suddenly, his voice low.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Do what?”

“Put yourself in danger like that.”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I care about him. About both of you.”

Din stilled, his helmet tilted down toward you. You couldn’t see his face, but you felt the intensity of his gaze all the same.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“I did,” you said softly. “I’d do it again if I had to.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, Din reached up and rested his gloved hand on top of yours.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with a depth of emotion you hadn’t heard before.

Later, you sat on the cot in the hull, your back pressed against the cool metal wall, a blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. The dull ache in your ribs had subsided slightly thanks to the bacta patch Din applied earlier, but the events of the day lingered like a storm cloud in your mind.

Grogu sat beside you on the cot, cooing softly as he fiddled with the shiny orb you'd given him earlier. Every now and then, he glanced up at you, his wide, soulful eyes filled with concern. You stroked the soft fuzz on his head absentmindedly, letting his quiet presence soothe you.

The sound of heavy footsteps broke your reverie. Din emerged from the cockpit, his armor catching the dim light as he made his way toward you. He stopped a few paces away, his helmet tilted slightly downward, as if he were unsure how to approach.

“You should be resting,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though you knew the strain in your voice betrayed you.

“You’re not,” he said, taking another step closer. He gestured to the bruises on your side. “That’s going to take time to heal. You should stay off your feet for a while.”

“And what about you?” you countered, raising an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you rested?”

He didn’t answer, his helmet tilting slightly as if to avoid your gaze.

“Exactly,” you said, shaking your head. “Don’t lecture me about rest when you’re just as bad at it.”

Din sighed, the sound soft but unmistakable. He stepped closer, lowering himself onto the bench across from you. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the hum of the ship filling the space between you.

“Why did you do it?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—something raw.

“Do what?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

“Put yourself in danger for him. For us.”

You glanced down at Grogu, who was now chewing on the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. “Because I care,” you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Din didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His helmet was angled toward the floor, but you could feel the weight of his gaze even if you couldn’t see his eyes.

“I’ve seen people do reckless things for credits, for revenge, for power,” he said slowly. “But you… You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even think about yourself.”

“I thought about Grogu,” you said, your tone firmer now. “And about you. I couldn’t just sit back and let something happen to either of you.”

His shoulders stiffened slightly, and you wondered if you’d said too much. But then he spoke again, his voice softer this time.

“You could’ve been killed.”

“I know.”

“And you’d do it again.”

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “I would.”

Din leaned back against the wall, his gloved hands resting on his thighs. He stayed silent for a long moment, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said finally, his voice barely audible.

You frowned, tilting your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“It’s my job to protect him,” he said, his tone almost bitter. “And you. I should’ve been faster, better. You shouldn’t have had to step in.”

The guilt in his voice was palpable, and it twisted something in your chest. You leaned forward, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm.

“Din, you can’t be everywhere at once,” you said gently. “You did everything you could. You always do.”

He didn’t pull away from your touch, but his posture remained rigid. “It’s not enough,” he murmured.

“It is,” you insisted. “And even if it wasn’t, we’re a team, aren’t we? You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

He finally turned his helmet toward you, the reflective surface catching the faint light of the hull. “A team,” he repeated, as if testing the word.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “And a team watches out for each other. That’s what I was doing. Watching out for you and Grogu.”

Grogu chose that moment to coo softly, reaching out with his tiny hands to touch Din’s armored knee. The gesture seemed to break through some of the tension, and Din let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“You spoil him,” he said, though his tone lacked any real admonishment.

“Someone has to,” you replied with a grin.

Din fell quiet again, but this time the silence felt different—less heavy, more contemplative. He reached out, gently brushing his gloved fingers over Grogu’s ear, eliciting a delighted squeal from the child.

“He cares about you,” Din said, his voice warm. “More than I’ve seen him care about anyone else.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard before answering. “I care about him, too. And you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavier than you intended. Din’s helmet tilted slightly, as if he were studying you, and your heart raced under his scrutiny.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice quiet but certain.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. Before you could say anything, Din rose to his feet, his movements fluid and deliberate. He reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder—a brief, almost hesitant gesture, but one that sent warmth spreading through you.

“Get some rest,” he said, his voice soft. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Din—”

“Please,” he added, cutting you off.

The word caught you off guard. You nodded slowly, leaning back against the cot as Grogu snuggled closer to your side. Din lingered for a moment longer before turning and walking back toward the cockpit, his steps heavy but purposeful.

As the door hissed shut behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Grogu made a soft, contented sound, and you stroked his head absently, your thoughts spinning.

Din’s words echoed in your mind, mingling with the unspoken emotions you’d seen in his actions. There was something there—something deeper than duty, something neither of you were ready to name.

For now, you let it be.

Feel free to request <3

[anotherpedrolover]

Oh my goodness, I’m so so so sorry for your loss. I absolutely love my father and I can’t even begin to imagine what I would do if something like this ever happened to him. My heart goes out to you and take all the time you need to heal from this. Well all be waiting for you right here when you come back.

Hello Friendos:

Until further notice, I am on hiatus. I may pop in, reblog, and maybe even post something, but my heart is broken and I need to heal. Feel free to keep tagging me and looping me in, but know I may or may not be involved.

As you have probably figured out, there won't be a prompt for March. If you haven't yet submitted your fic, take all the time you'd like, and if you have, please send me the link via my inbox so I don't lose track of it.

Tell your special people how much you love them. You never know how much time you have left.

Kiki👌🥩💜

PS: tw: grief & loss

My dad passed away last Thursday after several illnesses bombarded him one after another. My mom, sisters and I were at his side for almost 24 hours while he made his transition, and we are grieving. I know now he's at peace but it still doesn't make the ache in my heart any less. He and I shared a kinship in creating and, even though I didn't share what I did on here, he was very supportive of any creative outlet I had.