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joelmillerpascal · 11 hours ago

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Hey, everyone!

Just wanted to inform you that I will be taking requests too from now on.

So, my inbox is open...

Just like my le—WHO SAID THAT? 🫣

(Just curious, is everybody alright after these photos because... I think it won't be the heat that's gonna kill me)

Gif by @a7estrellas

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joelmillerpascal · 13 hours ago

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Just A Job - Pedro Pascal x Reader (Sneak Peek)

~Staying professional while photographing handsome celebrities has always been a little difficult, but you can usually keep your cool. Not with him…~

Pedro Pascal x Photographer!Reader

2,094 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Unprofessional Behavior on a Photo Shoot, Thigh Riding, Sexual Actions, General Sexiness and Flirting

Dedicated to @feelmyroarrrr

...His touch climbs higher and you hold your breath.

“Yeah?” You want to say more, to say anything else, but your brain is fogged over with desire.

He nods and lays his entire hand on your thigh. The denim is blocking your skin, but you can feel the pressure, the heat of him as he drags his palm up. His thumb slips against the seam of your jeans and you gasp.

“Is this OK?” he asks, not moving his hand away.

The world shifts into slow motion. Your vision glazes over and you nod your permission. It feels like some vivid dream as he rubs his thumb against you. Your knees spread as he shifts to fit his left leg between them.

“Fuck…”

KEEP READING ONLY ON PATREON AUGUST 25, 2025

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joelmillerpascal · 13 hours ago

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Welcome to my blog, owned by me, Saturnyo, or Melissa, if you'd prefer that. I am 21 years old, and although I haven't been writing for long, it still feels like a lifetime of experience already. Here, I write fanfics for various fandoms, focusing primarily on The Last of Us, Javier Pena, Criminal Minds, Materialists (Harry Castillo), and Pedro Pascal.

About Me

Ao3

Wattpad

Bluesky

Fic Recs

Fics Recs Part 2

Joel Miller

Javier Pena

Tommy Miller

Spencer Reid

Harry Castillo

Lana Del Rey Inspired Fics

Guitar Strings & Gunpowder (coming soon)

The Weight Of The World (coming soon)

The Things We Never Said (coming soon)

-Plus more to come

You're welcome to chat with me and send in requests for fanfics if you wish. Happy reading!!!

Headers/borders -@saradika-graphics

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joelmillerpascal · 13 hours ago

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Call Me Castillo

Chapter 1 - Say My Name

Pairing: Harry Castillo x Reader

Summary: A story where the boss and the secretary turn to fake dating and eventually fall in love for real. Harry Castillo had it all. Money, a thriving business. But the media still painted him as a womanizer and a heartthrob. Then there's you. Dumped at your engagement party in front of 200 people, completely humiliated. Work was regular, a constant in your now broken life, until your boss came to you and proposed a plan. The two of you at the upcoming gala announce you are dating, to help get the press off his back and your ex off yours. Everything was going fine until lines began to blur and real feelings began to surface.

Warnings: mentions of public humiliation, no smut, some swearing, a tiny bit of fluff

WC: 1.3k

Song choice: Good Days by SZA

"Tobias...." you said in a warning tone.

Your best friend, and unfortunately, your coworker, had just said the most ridiculous thing to you. And considering how your week has gone, that was saying something.

He didn't even react, just leaned against the counter peeling a banana like he didn't just commit a verbal hate crime.

"What girl, I'm saying."

Like that somehow made it better.

You stared at him, blinking slowly. "You can't just say that, Toby."

"I just did," he said, casually taking a bite of his banana. He walks over to you, sitting down.

"You didn't have to," you muttered, rubbing your temples. You could feel a headache forming. "There are just some things you shouldn't say. And that was one of them."

Tobias took another bite of the banana, just completely unfazed. "I'm just saying, you were dumped at your engagement party. Publicly. And not only that, but in front of 200 people with a live string quartet. If I were you, I would be in the Bahamas drinking pina coladas till I forgot my name."

You groaned, hitting your head against the break room table. "Thanks for that. I almost went a full hour without thinking about it."

He gave you a sympathetic but still a jerk kind of look. A type that only a best friend can give and get away with. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to go through something like that and then come to work like it didn't-"

"I'm fine," you cut him off, mid-sentence. "I am. I need to keep working, and I'll keep being fine."

Tobias gave you another sad smile, but ultimately let it go. After the blunder that was your engagement party, he was the one person you could come to and talk with without judgment, he and his boyfriend, Emmett. You've been friends with both of them since the first week you started working here. It was honestly an absolute gamble to get the job, but you still decided to try, and here you are, two years later, with a 115,000 salary.

When the offer letter came through, your jaw dropped. You had gone through three rounds of interviews and didn't expect to hear that ding in your email inbox.

115,000...

To manage schedules, coordinate meetings, and to make sure Harry Castillo doesn't lose his damn mind. It was shocking. Generous. You'd almost asked him if it was a typo. But Harry said it like a fact, not a favor.

"This job comes with high expectations," he said. "You'll be compensated accordingly."

And you did. Handsomely.

"Now I have a meeting with Mr. Castillo in ten."

You got up, throwing away your coffee cup and waving bye to Tobias.

The walk to Harry's office feels longer than usual. Walking down the hallway felt like a runway of pitying looks and snickering glances—a fighting gauntlet you hadn't signed up for. Maria? or Miranda? You couldn't remember who was looking at you, pursing her lips with a sympathetic but holier-than-thou smile. John? Standing by a water cooler gave you a weak thumbs up like you were about to go and win a marathon instead of walking into a status meeting with Harry Castillo.

You lifted your chin, straightened your blouse, and kept walking.

You weren't going to cry in the breakroom. Or break down in the hallway. No, you were going to keep holding your head high and continue walking towards Harry's office. Not even your boss, the great Mr. Castillo, will see any glimmer of displeasure or heartbreak.

Whether it was true or not.

The imposing wood door was sleek and taunting. You breathed deeply in and out a few times to compose yourself, then you knocked on the door and stepped inside.

He didn't look up right away. Harry was standing by the floor to ceiling windows, sleeves rolled to his elbows, phone in hand while holding his coffee. All work and no play.

Without turning around, he speaks to you. It's not rude, it's something he's done for over two years and you've gotten used to it. Just second nature.

"Sit," he said, voice calm- low but commanding. In that special way of his. Finally glancing your way, Harry's warm brown eyes settle onto you with a calculated precision. His mind is always thinking about business and how to keep over twelve thousand employees with a job.

You quickly obeyed and sat in the chair in front of his desk as his hands folded on the mohagany wood, placing down a Manila folder. It was labeled, "sensitive."

You knew the drill. Let him keep thinking what's on his mind and he'll speak first.

After a beat, Harry finally shifted in his seat, leaning slightly back creating a moment of a laid back atmosphere. You sat there spine straight, rigid waiting for what he wanted to speak about on today's agenda. He slides the folder closer to you, still wordless with a determined look on his face.

"The CFO has submitted a quarterly report, and Legal has requested a pre-brief with you ahead of Thursday."

You grabbed the folder, flipping it open revealing the documents Harry mentioned. Two years ago, this was basically another language. Having to learn basic business jargon was difficult but he was unusually patient with you. Helping correct mistakes that you didn't even notice before they were sent off.

"Got it. I'll block thirty minutes on your calendar two days from now. Want it before or after the sync?"

"Before. These types of things always run long." He paused. "They always do."

You smiled faintly but didn't comment.

Harry leaned forward slightly. "Also there is a charity gala in three weeks. I don't normally go those types of things. As you know, I rather donate behind the cameras but I've decided to go this time and I want you to be my plus one."

That made you freeze, heart stuttering enough to feel it. "Your plus one? Are you sure? I'm not the high society type and-"

"Of course. You deserve to be there just as much as anyone else," he said, cutting in smoothly before you could spiral.

You smiled again. a little bigger this time.

You tried not to read into it. Wondering whether or not it was professional or personal courtesy. But your hands were warm and you could feel a pulse in your throat.

"Ok," you said softly. "I'll be there"

Harry gave a small nod, satisfied. "The event packet will be sent to you in next week or two. And a styling team with Tobias will be there at your apartment the day of to get you ready."

You blinked, trying to make sense of what he said. "A styling team?" You asked

"It's a high profile party. Plus I don't want you to have to worry about makeup, the outfit, and whatever else you'll need." Harry responded, like it was a normal every day thing for him to have a full team at his disposal and it was.

You bit your lip, focusing back on the Manila folder in your hands. "That's generous."

"It's practical," Harry said, without missing a beat.

A moment passes

"Let me know if Legal needs to change the pre brief and we'll move some stuff around to make do"

"Understood."

You nodded, standing up, carefully picking up the folder. As you turned to go, his voice followed you- calm, low, and impossible to ignore

"Don't let anyone out there get in your head."

You paused mid-step.

"You aren't the one who should be embarrassed right now."

Your breath caught. Slowly, you turned back to him.

His eyes hadn't moved from his laptop. Like he hadn't just taken the one thing that had been bothering you and crushed it to dust in a matter of seconds.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, "Thank you, Mr. Castillo."

"Harry...you can call me Harry." He corrected, not looking up.

And that was the last thing he said. As you walked out of the office, his words still ringing in your head, changing you in a way that you did not expect.

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joelmillerpascal · 23 hours ago

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Pedro Pascal is a fifty year old, actor who resides between LA and NYC. He is currently single. Below is a list of connections I’d love to have for him. If anything catches your eye, please feel free to message me! ~

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 / 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇

ride or die:

best girl friend:

best friend / family friend:

protective older friend:

adventure buddy:

troublemaker friend:

bromance:

seem like married couple: vanessa kirby

hookup turned friend:

friends who hooked up:

acquaintance:

close friend:

casual friends:

fast friend:

new friend:

confidant:

smoking buddy:

role model:

good influence:

bad influence:

gym buddy:

sibling-like:

platonic soulmate: natalia dyer

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂/𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐇

girlfriend/partner:

baby momma:

exes on good terms:

exes on bad terms:

exes on unknown terms:

love/hate relationship:

toxic hookups:

went on a date:

casual hookup:

friend with benefits: eiza gonzález

drunken mistake:

almost hooked up:

sexual tension / almost hooked up:

flirtationship:

pr relationship:

𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂

rival:

frenemy:

mutual dislike:

spiteful comments:

constantly fighting:

professional competition:

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joelmillerpascal · 23 hours ago

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New Fic Idea

You guys, thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs and your lovely feedback on Negative Space! I truly appreciate it, as it is my first try at writing fan fiction and I was quite hesitant how to approach it. That being said, I think I fell down the rabbit hole of fanfic writing and my mind came up with a new story outline - blame it on the hot weather and sunshine, but I am in need of a good summer vacation-vibe story! Here we go:

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Genre: Romcom, emotional healing, slow-burn, hurt/comfort, smut (of course), vacation AU

Summary: You weren’t looking for love. You were looking for a break. After a burnout-fueled emotional tailspin, your best friend invites you to spend a week at a beach villa in Mexico. Sunshine, ocean air, zero expectations—that’s the pitch. What you find instead is a house full of strangers, passive-aggressive couples, and one man who throws everything off balance without even trying.

Joel Miller arrives late to the party—quiet, rugged, eyes that catch more than they should. Under sun-bleached skies and the weight of salt air, something in you starts to shift. And maybe, just maybe, this isn’t just a vacation. Maybe it’s the start of something real.

And here is a little snippet of what I have come up with so far:

".....Eight hours of back-to-back Zoom calls, one lukewarm coffee, zero real food, and a mild existential crisis later… you were done. You closed your laptop like it had personally betrayed you and slumped back in yourr chair. Your reflection in the black screen was not flattering: wild bun, dark circles. Your eyes looked tired. Not just from the eight straight hours of marketing strategy reviews and brand alignment jargon—but tired in a way you don’t know how to fix.

This wasn’t burnout. This was a full-on spiritual molting. The picture of millennial success.

You didn’t hate your job. That would be easier. It was the numbness that scared you. You used to care. Used to light up in strategy meetings. Used to find joy in campaigns that actually meant something. Now? You were just… showing up. Hitting deadlines. Feeling like a ghost with a LinkedIn profile.

You were good at what you do, and they paid you well to do it. But somewhere along the way, it had stopped feeling like it mattered. Or maybe you had stopped feeling like you mattered in it. It had been like this for months now. Maybe longer.

The phone buzzes. A name flashes: Kate.

You smiled despite yourself.

Kate had been your best friend since college—equal parts chaos demon and fairy godmother. She had a way of barging into your life exactly when you were about to collapse and somehow fixing things—usually with food, unsolicited advice, or well-timed threats.

You ignored the call and let it go to voicemail. Two minutes later, a text follows:

Kate:🌴 We booked the beach house. MEXICO. BEACH. VACATION. You’re coming. You. Me. Sam. Sun. Margaritas. Possibly dolphins. You need this 💛

You sigh. She's been pushing this for weeks. You’ve resisted with every excuse you could think of.

You type: I have work. I can’t just vanish to Mexico. You hesitate. And I don’t want to be a third wheel.

Her reply is almost immediate, with a photo of a sunset over turquoise water and a caption that read:

Kate: LOOK AT THIS. Look at the serotonin. When was the last time you felt warm? Like, actually warm? Don’t lie. I’ve seen your heating bill.

A pause. Then another text:

Kate: And you won’t be a third wheel. Promise. It’s not just me and Sam. We invited a few people, hust low key, low pressure. You need to breathe, babe. Lay under the sun. Let the ocean fix you a little. And we miss you.

You Stares at the message. The idea of being surrounded by happy couples while trying to pretend you weren’t emotionally composting sounded... exhausting. You've had enough of watching love from the outside. You've spent years dating, trying, hoping… only to end up alone, again. You had officially exited the “hopeful romantic” phase and entered the “if I die alone but have good skin, that’s a win” era.

The worst part? You still believed in love. Stupid, gooey, all-consuming, soul-squeezing love. But after a string of disappointing relationships with emotionally unavailable men and one guy who unironically used the phrase “alpha energy,” you were... over it. Officially.

Then again…The idea of warm sand under your feet makes something ache in your chest. You've been cold for so long, even when it's not winter. And —what’s one week? Maybe you didn’t have to impress anyone. Maybe you could just… exist. Quietly. With the waves.

And then she sent one last message:

Kate: You’ve gone quiet. I don’t like when you go quiet. You need sun. And fruit. And someone to bring you drinks with a little umbrella in them. Please come.

The truth was… she was right. You had gone quiet. It was subtle—just a missed call here, a rain check there. But slowly, you’d withdrawn. Not because you didn’t love your people. You were just too tired to pretend everything was okay. And the idea of doing nothing for a week? Of not marketing anything, branding anything, fixing anything? Of just being a person on a beach, alive and barefoot?

That sounded dangerously close to healing. So you typed:

Fine. I’m in. But I’m not wearing a swimsuit in front of strangers unless I’m drunk.

The reply came fast:

Kate: YEEEESSSSS 🌞🌞🌞 You won’t regret this. Pack light. Bathing suits. Books. Something loose and flirty just in case 😏

You rolled your eyes, but for the first time in a long time, you smiled. A real one. You tossed your phone aside and let your head fall back against the cushion.

You weren’t going to Mexico to fall in love. Or to fix anything. You just wanted to feel the sun on your skin and maybe remember who the hell you were underneath the stress and the spreadsheets. You didn’t know that this trip—the one you almost didn’t take—was going to undo you in the best way possible.

....." to be continued

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joelmillerpascal · 23 hours ago

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Sorry, but LEGS? 🥵🥵🥵🥵

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joelmillerpascal · 23 hours ago

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Father's day gift

After years of failing to start a family you give up, just to be met with a big surprise. And how else would you tell Pedro than visiting him on set? Pairing: Pedro Pascal x wife!reader Warnings: fluff, established relationship, failed pregnancies, unplanned pregnancy, surprises, strong emotions, cuddles Word count: 1.3k

You were standing on the set of Fantastic Four, waiting for Pedro. Well, actually waiting to surprise him. He has been away for a few weeks now, and you two were living off of texts, calls and cute messages sent during the night. He was always so excited to tell you about his day, about what scene they had to film, and you always listened attentively, clinging onto every word that spilled through your phone’s speaker.

But nearly a week after he got on the flight that fled him to London, you found out about something—something that would change your lives forever.

You started to feel weaker and more tired each day, sometimes dizziness hit you out of nowhere, making you sit down for a while. At first you didn’t pay any attention to it, just thought it was the stress, maybe you pushed yourself too far with work and it caught up with you. But when you threw up for the fourth morning in a row, you knew it was not just the flu or a stomach bug. So, you went to the pharmacy, bought three pregnancy tests, and when that five minute that seemed like an eternity passed, and you looked down, your heart stopped.

Six lines. Clear. Visible.

That night you broke down in tears, because after years of trying it happened. After years of only one line on the tests it became reality. After you and Pedro gave up the hope and didn’t even try anymore, agreeing on another solution, you were there, with your baby growing inside you.

That night you couldn’t sleep, and that’s how you decided to tell him. You planned everything. You bought the ticket to London, talked to his manager about this little surprise of yours, and when he agreed you felt like you were walking on the clouds. But when you saw a little onesie in one of the windows as you were walking down the street, you knew that it was going to be the perfect gift.

So, here you were now, sitting in one of the tucked away corners and watching as Pedro nailed every line with perfect emotions and expressions. You were always fascinated by the way he got into his characters, giving the feelings and emotions through the TV screen. His agent sat next to you, and besides the words that was said in front of the cameras the whole set was silent.

“That’s a wrap for today, guys. You were amazing,” the yell of the director pulled you out of the train of your thoughts, and you looked up, watching as everyone started to pack away, talking, the actors getting out of their characters. You turned your head towards his agent, and he gave you an encouraging look.

That was all you needed.

You picked up the little box from the table, standing up and slowly walking towards Pedro, who was still showing his back to you while talking to Vanessa. She noticed you first and gave you a wide smile. Pedro must have noticed the change in her expression because he turned around and his eyes immediately fell on you. His mouth parted, eyes widened in surprise, his little grin appearing on his face. The next thing you knew he was standing in front of you, and you were in the air while he was spinning you around.

“Carino, what are you doing here?” he mumbled into your mouth as he gave you a deep kiss. “Not that I’m complaining just… Didn’t expect you,” he put you down, his arms coming around you and pulling you closer.

“Thought I surprise you,” you smiled at him, and gave a quick peck on his lips. “And also, there is something I brought for you,” you held up the little package in your hand, wrapped carefully in purple wrapping paper with a little bow on it.

“A present? For me?” he asked, completely taken aback by the sudden box between his hands.

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“You’ll see,” his gaze was full of curiosity, but it was also filled with suspicion. “Come on, open it!” you whispered excitedly, studying every micro expression on his face. His hand moved slowly, trying to find where the paper ended. When he was still searching for it after two minutes you let out a breathy chuckle. “Pedro, you can tear it, you know.”

“It’s just wrapped so nicely.”

“You’re so cute,” he laughed, and he finally teared the wrapping paper, but careful to not to destroy the little bow. He held the box in his hand and finally lifted the lid. He still couldn’t see anything because you made sure to cover the onesie and one of the tests. He looked up at you, unsure, but you just encouraged him to go on. So, he did. He lifted the paper, and when he saw what was inside, his expression faltered, the smile fading from his face and his posture went rigid. He didn’t say anything just stared.

Minutes rolled like this, and you started to doubt that this was a good idea. Maybe he didn’t want children after all. Maybe he changed his mind and wants to concentrate more on his work and projects. Maybe he thought you were just joking, and this was just a bad one. Maybe… Maybe… The possibilities started to flood your mind one by one, making it hard to breath. And then, it was gone. He pulled you into his arms, his hold tightening around you, his forehead pressed against yours.

“You’re… Are you really… Are you pregnant?” his voice was trembling as he spoke, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Yes. We’re going to be parents, Pedro,” you felt your cheeks get wet by your tears and he quickly reached up to wipe them away. His hand was shaking by the information his brain just processed.

“Jesus, carino,” his lips crashed into yours, and you could hear the cheers and claps erupting around you. But in that moment, it was only the three of you, completely ready to start a new chapter in your lives. You could feel his hand travel down to your still flat stomach, and you smiled into the kiss. He pulled back, looking down to the place where his hand was resting, and the words stumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Ya te amo más de lo que puedo explicar y te voy a cuidar siempre, lo prometo.”

“Hm, that was a lot. What did you say?” he looked into your eyes and told you the exact same words, this time in English.

“I already love you more than I can explain and I’ll always take care of you, I promise.”

“You’re already gone for them,” he picked up the onesie from the box and held it out in front of him.

“Wait until they’re born,” you laughed and leaned into his side while you both walked out of the set and into his trailer. Inside he put down the box, onesie still in hand and you could see the question building behind his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Can I… Would it be okay if I post picture of this?” he held up the little fabric, unsure if you would agree to his idea. You just gave him a nod, and he lit up like a little child on Christmas Day.

—-—

That night you were laying beside him on the little bed of his trailer, him insisting on keeping you close to him. He was already asleep, the day draining him completely, his hand laying flat across your stomach, and you were scrolling through Instagram when you saw his post and the comments below it. As you were reading them, your eyes grew heavy and you finally fell asleep with a little smile on your face.

This was just the beggining.