#for pedro characters only please

[creedslove]

Besties, it's also another lazy day here, so you can keep sending headcanon suggestions if you'd like ❤️🥺

[intheorangebedroom]

Pleased to meet you, a drabble

Summary: Frankie's a handyman.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gabrielle Tourneur (OFC)/French fem!Reader.

Set within the PTMY universe but can be read as a one-shot stand-alone.

Rating: explicit 🔞

TW: improper use of zip ties

A/N: Happy ❤️‍🔥Frankie❤️‍🔥 Friday, orange besties 🧡 This is the first, and probably not last, zip ties-inspired drabble, so be warned. Because I have a lot of thoughts. 🥖Anon, thank you again for the encouragement. As for you @dreamymyrrh, you know what you did. I love you. More. I literally wrote this shit in two hours in lieu of my usual two and half months weeks, it's unbeta’d, unchecked, uncalled-for. You’ve been warned twice. Please be kind.

Word count: 1.8k

[series masterlist]

Drabble: The ties that bind is

The first time is sheer happenstance. 

A late Friday afternoon, sometime in September. You join him by the toolshed in the garden, where he’s working on a new headboard with simple, elegant slats, supported by two trestles. You want to make sure he’s wearing his dust mask –he’s not.

You step inside the small wooden shed to grab the cumbersome contraption where it lies unused on the workbench, and you notice a small stack of black zip ties, tied together by a wide orange rubber band. 

“Hey, what are these for, Frankie?” you ask naively when you step back outside, holding the bundle of ties in your raised hand.

He tilts up his head, eyes lingering on his work, brow pinched in concentration, sweat dampened curls stuck to his forehead, and he has to squint to see what you’re talking about, but when his gaze focuses on what’s in your hand… a slow smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. 

That smug smile hasn’t changed, not in sixteen years, not ever, it’s the same enthralling curl of his plush lips, followed by the same question, which is never really a question but rather a promise, an invitation to follow him, a little further every time, you wanna try this?

He lays down his hand plane and goes around the trestles, takes a couple of slow steps toward you, until he can husk in your ear in a voice so low it dives down all the way to your core. 

“Want me to show you what it’s for?”

Comprehension dawns on you. The dip between your collarbone deepens as you silently gasp. His smile deepens too. 

He’s gentle and careful, that first time, the black plastic tie that binds your hands together hanging loose around your wrists. Repeatedly, he tries to bite down his smug smile. When he lifts you up and props your ass on top of the workbench inside the crammed toolshed, when he prompts your knees open, when he slides your tied hands behind his neck. 

It’s fucking useless. And you’re smiling too, with delight, nervousness, anticipation, giggling quietly until he thrusts into you, and you’re not giggling anymore, you give him that sound he lives for.

–

The second time is not exactly premeditated yet. 

You’re coming home from Santi’s birthday party, and he’d be lying if he tried to argue he hasn’t been thinking about it all evening, with the sheer black tights you’re wearing, but he still loses it completely. 

He wraps one end of the tights around your wrists and the other end to the leg of the bed, and you let him. 

You let him. 

It’s intoxicating, your complete abandon. Your trust, your faith.

And if you could find the words, you’d tell him. You would explain what it does to you, the way he never takes more than what you’re able to give, the way he always knows how much that is, the way he seeks you out inside your darkness to offer you his love, unwavering, uncompromised, undying. 

If you could describe how it feels to be wanted by this man, his raw power barely restrained, his patience and his strength, the kindness in his eyes… you would.

But you can’t put it into words, so you hope he knows, and you find other means to express the certitude that you’d follow him anywhere. 

You thread a new language between your two bodies for him to write his own verse. And wherever he leads you, it’s always through blinding pleasure. 

In the weeks that follow the party, and what ensues, he becomes obsessed with a thought. An idea invading his system, pervading his mind. He grows restless, which you notice, of course, but don’t immediately question. 

Until this one evening, when you come home from the bookstore to find the zip ties waiting for you on the fucking kitchen table. 

You freeze, the key still in the lock, and suddenly everything clicks into place: his increasing agitation over the past few weeks, the sideways glances, dark from under the brim of his cap, the intense tick of his jaw. The shadow of a smug smile lingering on his lips. 

In your haste to hang your coat on the rack, you miss the hook and it falls in a heap to the floor. It’s a clumsy fumble to untie the shoelaces of your Martens, your fingers numb from the November cold, grey and humid. 

A few hasty strides, and you're in the bedroom, where you know you’ll find him waiting.  

The eagerness that widens your eyes, widens the dimpled smirk on his pretty face. 

“Show me, Frankie,” you ask, handing him the zip ties, “show me what you’ve been thinking.”

Now, the plastic bites into the soft flesh of your wrists, tied separately to the slats of the headboard. The mattress dipping under your knees, you push your forehead from the smooth wood and arch your back until it hurts, seeking the contact of his burning mouth. 

His soft chuckle makes you moan, and he rewards the sound with a hard swat on the swell of your ass with the flat of his palm. Then he spits on your folds, and this one’s really just to please you, because you’re soaking wet already, your come dribbling down along the inside of your thighs from your previous high, when he ate you from behind. 

Messy broad licks, his tongue diving inside your cunt, curling around your clit, teasing, swirling, his plush lips pursed around your tight ring, sucking in. You came violently all at once, in your chest and your belly and your legs trembled. 

They’re still shaking now, and you struggle to keep your balance but you know he’s not done, nor do you want him to be.

He straightens up and you threaten to fall on your side, the ties biting harder into your skin, but he catches you with a large hand gripping your hip. 

The black, starless sky peers in through the orange curtains. It’s late November, but the heat is stifling in the bedroom. Beads of sweat are rolling down his spine; locks of your hair are glued to your shoulders and your nape. 

Later, he will brush them and braid them. Gently kiss the secret birthmark in your hairline.

But right now, his hand slides down to your folds, spreading his spit over your lips, pushing it inside you with a thick finger, then two, and he’s about to add a third when you moan louder, arms pulling against your restraint. His gaze is drawn to the red indentation on your thin skin and he frowns, shakes his head. 

“Want me to cut it off?”

“Fuck no,” you grit back in a beat, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief when you feel the round tip of his cock lining up at your entrance. 

He thrusts in so ruthlessly you cry out and nearly hit your head on the headboard. He catches you again, of course he does, a bruising, splayed fingers clutch on the swell of your ass to slide you back on his cock. 

You want to turn your head to the side, try to catch a glimpse of him, of his large frame, his broad shoulders, his messed-up hair and his pitch-dark eyes. But your bindings won’t allow you that much amplitude, and all you can do is reach your shoulder to wipe the sweat beading on your temple before your mouth goes slack. He’s drilling in so fast, sliding in and out easy with how wet you are, and your mind is reeling. 

His hand moves to your hip again, using the grasp for leverage. This is just a fraction of what he wants to do to you, of what he’s got planned, what he kept playing in his head over and over again when he should have been focusing on work, on driving, on eating… But there’s time. And isn’t that the sweetest thought?

His knees push your knees further apart on the mattress, legs gliding against yours with your mixed sweats. His thrusts deepen, the fat head of his cock bumping into your cervix, and when his thumb comes to rest over your asshole with just the right amount of pressure, you don’t even get the time to warn him. 

Your orgasm seizes you like an earthquake, like fucking lightning, blazing through you from your core, overwhelming, meteoric. You’re mewling, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, so brutal Frankie feels it too, the strong clutch of your collapsing walls pulling him in, and he bends double over you, hissing his pleasure through clenched teeth. 

“Jesus fuck, Gabrielle–” 

Chest heaving painfully, you’re about to slip out of consciousness when you feel his breath burning your skin. He straightens up and sits behind you. You whine, struggling to keep your balance on the unstable surface of the mattress. 

The sensation of the cool blade sliding against your wrists makes your jolt, and suddenly you're free, your arms weightless, like helium balloons drifting away from your body, but it’s over in a heartbeat. He’s grabbed them, flipping you around like a rag doll. 

“Can you take some more, baby?”

Tears have smeared mascara on your cheeks, you can’t seem to catch your breath but you nod, exhaling a feeble “Yeah.”

You weigh nothing between his hands, you’re limp, boneless, and his splayed fingers bruise your skin in their firm hold above your elbows as he positions you over him.

His movements are precise, quick, and deft, trained hands linking your arms behind your back, and the zip tie digs into your flesh when it slides shut around your wrists with its telling slithery sound. 

Just like last time with your tights, his eyes are drawn to the odd angle of your shoulders, to the dip over your collarbone and the way it pokes out in the shadows of the night. 

“Good girl,” he grunts, lying back between your folded legs, “you’re a good girl, Gabrielle, you know that? You’re my good girl,” he adds, lining himself up. 

He shoves himself into you to the hilt, and in this straddling position, the air is punched out of your lungs. Without your arms to keep you balanced, you can’t control anything, certainly not the depth of his thrusts, and he’s ramming into you deeper than he’s ever been. 

“Wanna see your pretty face when you come on my cock again,” he says, and you snap, you surrender, limp and boneless. You let him fuck up into you with his feet planted on the mattress and his strong arms shoving you further down onto his cock, your tits bouncing, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“Gonna pump you full of my come, baby.”  

Limp, boneless, exactly how you want to be. 

****

[ohforficsake]

Hi

'The Margay' has its Fan Fiction Birthday on 10th September 🎂

Happy birthday!

Tell us something about that fic, anything you like, and we'll help blow out the candles and wish it many happy returns!

You can save this ask until the actual date or reply whenever you like.

El, thank you so much for this ask! I hadn't realized it was already a year 🥹

Taking the answer to this in a slightly different direction and offering this abridged version of my writing playlist for The Margay. I suppose it gives a little glimpse behind the curtain. It's not perfectly curated, but I'd still suggest listening in this order as it does reflect the overall storyline. Also HEADPHONES. Not safe for work or little ears or mixed company. It's Frankie and Audrey, y'all.

And because this isn't exactly telling something about the story, maybe let's open it up! To celebrate The Margay's first birthday, go ahead and hop into my asks with anything specific you'd like to know!

Thank you so much for helping to mark this milestone El, and thank you to every single person who read this here little story and showed it some love. I'm so grateful to each and every one of you. 💚

[residenceevil]

Luis get behind me I’ll protect u from all the white ppl that r gonna be writing smut about you and fetishizing the fact that you’re Hispanic

[pedro-pedrito-pascalito]

man i gotta say the amount of pedro pascal related fics is huge and i think i am in heaven.

[rainy-day-gracie]

- bloodlust - general marcus acacius x wife!reader

content warnings: shameless and utter filth, discussion/description of periods, mentions of pregnancy, pre-established relationship (married couple), soft!dom marcus acacius because he is husband, unprotected piv sex, rough sex, bondage (wrists and ankles), fingering, spanking (not a punishment), begging, verbal reaffirmed consent, praise kink, dirty talk, use of the word 'whore' as a compliment, discussions of canon typical violence, this man is a SLUTTT and we love him so much, porn with feelings <3

summary: Your cycle comes a month into your marriage to General Marcus Acacius, and he knows how to make you feel better.

a/n: so hi. this is the first fic i've released in four years, and my first time writing full smut before. i've never written for any of pedro's characters before but i've been reading them for a loooong time now, so hopefully this is up to standard! please be kind, i'm just a girl tryna write nasty smut.

______

"Shit, shit, shit," you whisper, despite the fact there is no shit at all. Only blood.

"Why have you not come to bed, my darling wife?" Marcus calls, not seeing the bloodied rag that you quickly hide in the wash bin.

Not meeting his eye, you leave the washroom, crossing over to the bed but making no move to tuck into it. Marcus strolls behind you, wrapping his broad arms around your waist. He wasn't aware, but the pressure of his hands on your belly perfectly eased the incessant cramping that has burdened you all day.

"I'm not sure I'll find sleep tonight," you answer, rolling over how to break the news of your cycle's arrival to him.

As far as you understand, husbands do not want to know about or deal with the monthly cycles of their wives, the cramping stomachs, the wicked mood swings, and least of all, the blood that taints the innermost parts of the woman. It's evidence of vulnerability, something that is out of the control of both the wife and husband-- and above all else, a gross imperfection in their respectable brides.

“You wish to sleep elsewhere?” Marcus mumbles, kissing your shoulder delicately.

“No, it is not that, Marcus,” you breathe, exhaling as he traced his mouth against your neck, sending shivers along your skin. “I just… I don’t want…”

Marcus stepped back abruptly, and you turned to face him. He looked almost… guilty. “I understand, I apologize if I made it seem as if I expected... if I forced myself onto—“

“My cycle started today,” you blurt out, unable to see your fierce general appear solemn for a moment longer. You cast your eyes to the ground, picking at the skin around your nails.

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you stammer, “i-it started just now. I was never going to keep it hidden, but I was- am, simply embarrassed. You have hopes for a child, and I have not full filled that desire of yours. Women’s cycles are not desirable, and can be quite a burden—“

Marcus speaks your name with such softness that you halted your rambling, and looked up at him again.

Warm brown eyes meet yours, and where you had expected to see anger or disgust, there was only sympathy, and… amusement. He took your fiddling hands, lacing his fingers within yours.

“You must understand me,” he spoke gently. “There is no need for embarrassment, or fear. Your cycles are evidence that your body feels at ease in our marriage, that you are properly fed, fucked, and cared for. We have only been married a month, and I do not expect immediate heirs, or heirs at all if you do not wish for them. There is no desire of mine that is not satisfied in this union, for I have a beautiful wife that carries herself with grace, and elegance, and matches my taste for occasional debauchery.”

You giggle, a bashful smile creeping onto your lips.

“There it is, that smile I breathe for.”

You grin fully, and squeeze his palms in yours. “You are too kind to me, Marcus. While you speak that my cycle is nothing to be embarrassed about, I do not expect you to share my bed tonight, or for the next few. I’m sure you know how… messy, it can sometimes be. I wouldn’t wish to sully the sheets, or you, for that matter.”

Marcus peers at you, looking between your eyes like he was searching for something. A ghost of a smirk graced his lips.

His grip on your hands moved closer to your wrists, and tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you still. He brings your wrists up, holding them again your chest.

Adjusting his hold on you slightly, he keeps one palm wrapped around your wrists while the other hand reaches for the silken rope tied around his toga. Deftly, he undoes the rope, letting his toga come loose.

“Marcus, wh— what are you doing?” You asked, pulse quickening as he wrapped the rope nimbly around your wrists, tying them together while keeping plenty of slack at the end of the line.

“I wish to see for myself just how messy and sullying my wife can become,” he said, holding your gaze. “Unless you do not want me to?”

The thrill of having his hands on you like this, the silken rope of his toga binding your arms, and the lust brewing in his eyes like a dark storm… jolts of unfiltered want shoot downward, through your chest, belly, all the way into your core.

Swallowing, you nod.

Marcus walks you backward, pushing you by the wrists until your thighs meet the edge of the bed.

“Lie down, and put your hands up towards the frame of the bed,” Marcus commanded.

The general’s eyes held not the doting love of a husband, but the steely determination of a conqueror. The eyes of a warrior, a dominating force of nature, a man capable of ruination.

Desire wracked your body, and you tried to keep from trembling as you obeyed his command.

For the month of your marriage, the general had only ever been gentle with you, in both words and actions. At no point had you ever seen for yourself the fearsome general his reputation preceded him as.

But as he loomed over you now, shedding his toga and laurels, pinning you with his conqueror's eyes... this was the general the world whispered about like a god of war.

"You know what is so amusing about you, wife?" Marcus wondered aloud, moving to straddle you on the bed. Even though you were still fully dressed, and he fully nude except for a tented loincloth, he made you feel as if you'd never been more exposed with those dark eyes of his.

"What is?" You mumbled, breath catching in your throat as he reached up to tie your hands to the headboard.

Tightening the ropes, he continued on with his cavernous rasp. "I am a man that commands armies, orders slaughters, and washes his hands with the blood of men," he drawled, tilting his head to peer at you. Your blood pumped so fast through your body; his discerning stare made you wonder if he could truly hear every beat of your heart, feel every jolt of desire wracking your cunt.

Marcus pulled on the ropes binding you, shaking your wrists against the headboard. You yelped at the sudden movement, anticipation heightening your senses to every small shift.

Another dark smirk crossed his lips. "I have killed more men than I can count, and yet... you think I would shy away from a little bloodshed."

A full whimper escaped your lips at his words, blush rising to your cheeks at his knowing, devilish grin.

"Do I frighten you?" He questioned softly, glancing at your lips, your heaving chest, the pulse in your neck.

"No," you breathed.

"If you want me to stop, you will not be afraid to tell me so?"

A shake of your head. "I will tell you if I need to stop."

"Good girl."

And he melded his lips to yours.

Marcus captured your lips to his like an immortal, like he had all the time in the world. Brutal, powerful, unyielding, but slow, as if he were savoring every moment. His kiss left you breathless, needier for him by the moment, and you were already pulling on the bondage binding your wrists.

So caught up in his kiss, you forgot about his hands, and all they were capable of.

As Marcus sunk his teeth into your bottom lip, drawing a trace of blood, he ripped your stola open to reveal your peaked breasts, your nipples perking in the cold night air.

His hands immediately reached for your tits, more swollen than usual due to your cycle. His lips traced down your exposed throat, pinching your nipples slightly. A high-pitched moan escaped you, and your soaking, bloody core clenched around nothing.

"I never thought my wife capable of such sounds, but I suppose my devilry has rubbed off on you," he mumbled into your neck, marking you with teeth and tongue. The only response you could give is another unfiltered moan as he twisted your sensitive nipples again. "Such beautiful sounds you make when I am rough with you."

You gaped for breath as he sat up onto his knees once more, trailing his calloused fingers down your breasts, along your ribcage, and gripped the rip in the center of your dress.

"Shall we see what bloodlust has done to you, hm?"

Like parchment, he tore your dress completely in half, exposing your heated cunt to him. On instinct, you closed and curled your legs, hiding your wet and bloody core.

Marcus chuckled, wrapping a hand around each of your ankles in their curled position on the bed. "Pretty girl thinks she can hide from me. How cute."

Your legs tensed as he pulled them apart, your instinct to fight his advances taking over.

And a small, devilish part of you wanted to know what he would do if you tried to deny him what he so clearly wants.

"You're fighting me now?" He mused, easily prying your legs wide, his hold on your ankles unshakable.

His knees moved to rest on top of your thighs, not painful, but certainly keeping you pinned.

It distracted you for a moment where you missed the two long ropes that had appeared in his hands, the same silken rope that he uses to tie togas with.

Now, he glances up at you, not lustfully, but with a firmness, serious. "Is this something you want?"

Understanding what he meant, you swallowed and nodded. "Yes, I want this. Anything you have to give me... I want it. I want you."

Marcus groaned at the words, wrapping each of your ankles with the silken rope, and binding them to the posts of the bed.

Cool air hit your core, and you throw your head back against the pillows with both relief and slight delicious humiliation.

Knelt on the bed above you, Marcus studied your cunt with tunnel-vision focus. The world could erupt in flames around the two of you, and he wouldn't even notice.

"You've had me fooled all this time, my darling."

The rasp of desire in his voice made your toes curl.

"Here I was thinking that I could not possibly deserve a woman of such purity, such virtue," he murmured, as if he were speaking only to himself. "I believed you an angel, a nymph, a maiden of innocence, untouched by sin, or lust, but... it seems I was wrong."

He traces a finger delicately along your wet folds, making you whine with impatience. Your ankles strained against their bondage, the ropes holding firm against your skin.

You try to lift your hips, pathetically trying to create more friction against his rough fingertips, but to no success. He chuckles at the attempt, keeping his touch light against your aching cunt.

"Please... please, Marcus," you moan, chest heaving.

He cocks his head innocently and removed his finger from your skin. "Please... what?"

"Please touch me," you beg, meeting his eyes again. "Please touch me, general."

Any amusement falls from his face, replaced fully by that conqueror's gaze, the last face so many men see before they die.

Marcus plunges two fingers deep into your heated cunt, and you cry out in pleasure, desperate for more. He hooks his skilled fingers inside of you, searching for that one spot that will take you to Olympus and back.

"I was promised a noble lady as a wife," Marcus hums, pulling his fingers out of your weeping cunt slightly, "and somehow, I got a bloody whore instead, begging me to ruin her like I do battlefields."

Your cunt clenches around his fingers as he thrust back inside of you, pushing against that sweet spot of pleasure. He groans as you gush around him, pressure building at the bottom of your belly. "There it is."

The pace of his hand inside of you was brutal, punishing, and you moan and cry out, shameless. Your wrists and ankles ached deliciously, keeping you exposed, spread wide for your husband, your general.

The tipping point of your pleasure was so close, if he only were to have a bit of mercy and allow you to reach it.

"Please, general, I'm--"

He pushes in a third finger, not slowing down his pace for you to adjust.

"What is it, my darling whore?"

"I am so close, so close, please--" you whine, back arching off the bed.

As you suspected, his mercy does not come easily.

"Beg me for it," he commands, "beg for it like you would beg for your life. Beg me to finish you."

Your words come out strained with desperation. "Please, general, please, please finish me... I need it, I need you to finish me, I am so close... I'll be so good for you, general, please just finish me--"

A calloused thumb presses into your clit, and you go taut with desire. Your back arches off the bed, and your ankles pull tight against their ropes. High pitched moans escape from the depths of your throat, your cunt pulsing with relief.

He continued curling his fingers inside of you for several minutes after you finish, drawing out the release for as long as he can. It isn't until you whimper with sensitivity that he withdraws and moves to untie each of your bound limbs.

Exhaustion creeps over you, your hands and feet falling limply into the bed as he undoes the ropes and throws them onto the floor.

Propping himself onto his side, he leans over to kiss you again. This kiss was light, and loving.

"You did so well, my darling wife," Marcus praises, moving to kiss the top of your forehead. "You did perfectly."

You glance down at his groin, a tall tent risen in his loincloth. Guilt pangs at you. "You haven't--"

"I don't need to, this was about you," he says gently. "I can do it--"

"I am your wife, am I not?" You ask, your palm feather-light on his untouched cock.

He jolts from the simple touch. "Y-you are."

You lean towards him, lips brushing against his, sharing each other's breath. "A wife should serve her husband in the bedroom, should she not?"

Fast as a serpent, Marcus grips you by the shoulder, pushing you face-down into the bed. Mercifully, he leaves your hands free, and slides a folded pillow underneath your hips to allow pressure on your cramping abdomen. But this angle... your sensitive core clenches again, anticipating his cock pushing inside of you.

"Bless the gods for giving you to me," Marcus groans, not wasting a moment before the head of his cock traces up and down your already-fucked-out heat. "Your blood is mine, your desire is mine, you are mine."

A wanton moan releases from your lips as he pushes into you, the downward angle taking him deeply.

He grips your hips hard enough to leave light imprints and fucks you roughly.

"You are mine, as I am yours," he moans, his pace brutal and possessive. "It would not matter if you were a whore, or a lady, or a devil, because you are my wife."

You reach below you, propping yourself onto all fours as he pushes against your cervix and sweet spot with his godlike cock.

"You are mine, h-husband," you pant, arching your back for him, and pressing your hips harder into the pillow below. Gods, he was in your fucking stomach. "As I am yours."

You yelp in delight as he brings his hand down onto your ass, once, then twice. It sent thrills down your spine, clenching your cunt around him.

"The general and the lady," he moans, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm as he nears his edge. "The killer and the whore."

You laugh lightly, nearing the same edge but needing something else from him.

"Hit me again, please," you beg, cheeks heating. "I need it, please... hit me again."

Marcus had to hold himself back from finishing inside of you at your dirty request.

Breathless whines left you as he brought his rough hand down on you again, the sting of his killer's palm making your core gush.

Again, and again, and again, until tears streamed down your cheeks, and with each slap of his hand against your ass, angry red handprints remained in their wake.

At the delicious pain of his palms on your skin, and the unyielding pleasure of his cock pushing against your cervix, you finish with a prolonged moan, clenching around him until he reaches a breaking point.

Spilling inside of you, he pants heavily. "You are... divine."

Collapsing into the pillows with exhaustion, you smile, utterly giddy. "You flatter me, general."

Marcus cleans you up with a spare rag, blood and the remnants of your lust staining the fabric.

As soon as he falls into bed next to you, blessed sleep takes you both into dreams. Dreams of each other.

----

let me know if you enjoyed it!!

forehead kisses all around ,

gracie

[verstarppen]

pairing; lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; first post on this acc, if you see a typo or a mistake no you don't shhh; the ahsoka show is rotting my brain but so is f1 so i spat this out im sorry it will happen again part 2 is on the way

[ series masterlist ]

liked by markhamill, danielricciardo, therealkateesackhoff and 613,229 others

yndeathtrooper and that's a wrap! i'm so thankful for the amazing opportunity to spend another season in a sweaty helmet as a supporting character with a tiny subplot! tune in next year to see me return in the not-jedi show as background mandalorian #4! 🫶

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yndeathtrooper @ davefiloni i'm joking please don't fire me

pascalispunk sweaty helmets, tell me about it

yndeathtrooper YOU HAVE BODY DOUBLES

lonelyboba best season so far

ahsokawife only one grogu pic? unfollowed

generalkenobi3 CANT WAIT TO SEE AHSOKA

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, yukitsunoda0511 and 21,001 others

daniel3.jpg We're so back

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landonorris can't believe i got ditched for this shit

daniel3.jpg You refused to get cultured. landonorris yeah because it's boring daniel3.jpg I can name several toddlers with longer attention spans than you.

liked by f1, mclaren, danielricciardo, landonorris and 835,097 others

yndeathtrooper gave my manager a heart attack, lost pedro pascal in a crowd like a mother with her 3 year old, and got accused of coorporate espionage! what did you do today?

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danielricciardo I sensed you got lost in the force

yndeathtrooper I'M SORRY again i swear i didn't see anything i can possibly explain, and thank you guys for showing me where i was supposed to go :) landonorris Anytime

bellanorris MCLAREN SWEEP DANNY FINALLY WON

urmomlol when worlds collide

patiencesainz danny gets to meet his celebrity crush god when is it my turn

liked by maxverstappen1, yndeathtrooper, landonorris and 1,408,350 others

danielricciardo He INSISTED on watching the Mandalorian to "see what it's all about". Unbelievable.

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yndeathtrooper boosting the ratings i see

landonorris it's still boring but i'm tolerating it danielricciardo Take that back rn. landonorris no. danielricciardo Then I guess I have no choice but to tell everyone how much you "aww" over Grogu. landonorris defamation. i've done no such thing.

troubletauri down astronomical

chisslover me too lando me too

liked by mclaren, landonorris, danielricciardo and 210,484 others

yndeathtrooper grogu likes @ mclaren , he told me himself

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danielricciardo I'm his favorite driver

yndeathtrooper sure grandpa let's get you back to bed

landonorris taste

danielricciardo Booooooo

gonestappen are... are they flirting

sugarussell WHAT IS GOING ON

dannyavocado their friendship is so funny

percivaleclair "friendship" ok

super_max sanest f1 soft launch

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo and 967,150 others

yndeathtrooper photo dump :)

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ferraritractor NAHHH SHE REALLY TRIED TO SNEAK LANDO AT THE END

mercedesluv what level of delusion are they on thinking this is slick

schumicker ao3 24k strangers to lovers celebrity au

cadbanemvp "don't be suspicious"

landonorris hello there

yndeathtrooper general norris

maxverstappen1 Thank you for babysitting him!

yndeathtrooper anytime, mr world champion :) landonorris ew

holoahsoka the way nobody is talking about the set photo is sending me 😭

revanite who's the guy

stappenlover lando norris tatooinerat god this is the weirdest crossover these fandoms clashing is like oil and water

pic credits: instagram and pinterest

[jobean12-blog]

Hot and Heavy

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Word Count: 2.9K

Summary: Javi's working undercover at your favorite bar and he's too sexy to resist.

Author's Note: Just because this man drives me insane and I too would never be able to resist him. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, tension, fun, mention of drinks, a few curses, car sex

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The worries of the day have faded with the setting sun and now, in this small, crowded, and loud bar, you meet the eyes of a man across the room. It’s hard to make out every feature in the dim lighting, but he’s tall and lean with dark hair that falls over his forehead and looks soft. His eyes are dark too but alight with mischief and he’s staring at you, smiling.

Another man stands next to him, talking and gesturing with his hands, but he doesn’t look away when you meet his gaze. If anything, his smile widens.

You can’t look away either and it’s disorienting but despite this you mouth the word “hi.” He says it back and tilts his head in recognition. A flutter of butterflies erupts in your stomach and the feeling is heady, and shit if his smile alone manages to do this, imagine what his…

Your friend, Jess, grabs your arm before you can finish the thought, startling you from your staring contest and into a crowd of bodies swaying and singing to the music.

When the night ends and you’re tired and hot you shuffle out of the bar, arm in arm, with Jess and a sudden wave of disappointment hits you. You never saw your mystery man again. Whether he left or got lost in the crowd you’ll never know, and you’re surprised at the feeling of loss.

As you walk toward the car you hear raised voices and without thinking you turn to peek around the side of the bar. Maybe you expect to see some drunk couple arguing or two friends still raucous after a night of partying. But you don’t expect to see him, the man from across the bar.

You don’t expect him to be leaning against a car, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his arms crossed over his chest. You don’t expect him to smile when he sees you. And you definitely don’t expect the smooth and sexy voice when he says, “I know you.”

“You don’t,” you answer, steadily but maybe a little breathless. Your face feels hot and your arms and legs prickle with goosebumps.

His smile grows and he steps toward you. He’s even better looking under the washed-out streetlights and the reality of him immediately fills your space the closer he comes. He’s all easy posture, eye contact and beaming smile as he playfully studies you.

“I do know you,” he says with the slight tilt of his head. “We met earlier. I just don’t know your name yet.”

You narrow your eyes. “You guys were being pretty loud. Everything ok?”

“I’m going to blame Steve here,” he says as he throws a thumb over his shoulder to point to the other man. “He’s always too loud.”

Steve scoffs from behind him and gives you a little wave.

“But thanks for your concern. We’re just fine,” he assures you.

You suddenly remember you’re now outside, under more lighting and you’re in full view, no longer hidden behind the bar and your dress now feels too tight and too short but the way his eyes only say, yes, and please, you’re sure he wants to see more.

“I wasn’t sure I would see you again.” His voice is deeper, gone gravelly. “I looked for you.”

“It’s so crowded in there I’m surprised we saw each other in the first place.”

His tongue slips out to wet his lips, and he watches your mouth. “Do you need a ride?”

With so many unspoken promises tucked into those few words you sway on your feet, but your answer remains firm. “I’m going home with my friend and even if I wanted to come with you, Jess would have your balls.”

He laughs. “I like you,” he says, his eyes pinning you in place.

“Have a good night,” you tell him before turning on your heels to walk back to Jess’ car.

“I’m Javi,” he calls from behind you.

You ignore him and keep walking.

“Wait!” he says. “I just want your name.”

You look back over your shoulder and he’s still smiling.

“Maybe we’ll see each other again. This is one of my favorite hang outs.”

He takes a step forward, his eyes following you. “Is that a date?”

“No.”

“And you really won’t give me your name?”

“Maybe next weekend.”

“Alright then angel,” he says, smirking when your lips part in surprise. “See you next weekend.”

Jess orders something greasy and delicious before taking a large sip of her drink.

“Should I get more food?” she asks, smiling over her glass.

“Probably,” you reply. “I’m starved.”

You’re about to grab the menu from under her hand but her expression morphs into one of shock. You barely have time to register it before feeling the heat of a body behind you. Large hands settle lightly on your waist only a second before a familiar voice whispers against your earlobe, “there you are.”

You let out a surprised squeak and turn, pressing your flattened palm to his very firm chest and giving him a light shove back.

Your body is like a live wire and when you lock eyes with Javi you see the same playful light in his gaze from last week.

“Too much?” he asks. “I was going for sexy but subtle.”

“I mean…” you start, but his friend, Steve, cuts you off.

“Crazy to think subtly is a necessity for his job sometimes.”

Javi ignores Steve’s snarky comment. “Steve, this is angel. I’m still waiting for her real name. She’ll have to give it up at some point.”

You introduce yourself and ignore his smooth innuendo. His eyes sweep down your face and stop at your lips. It’s the look he’d give you before he kisses you, but he’s too far away, until he isn’t, leaning forward.

“Nice to officially meet you Steve,” you say to break the tension.

You introduce Jess to both men before asking, “have you been waiting here for us?”

Javi shrugs with a smile. “Maybe.”

“We’ve been here since dinner,” Steve says from beside him, holding up his glass. “But it’s for work.”

“Oh right, your job,” you muse. “Subtly…what is it that you do?” you ask.

Steve and Javi exchange a look and your eyebrows raise.

“I’m a DEA agent,” Javi answers quietly.

Your eyebrows stay up at your hairline. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah angel, you’re safe with me,” he says smoothly.

“So, you weren’t hoping to find me here tonight?” you ask with feigned disappointment.

“Oh, I definitely was,” Javi says smoothly. “In fact. I was here last night and the night before…”

He leans in closer again and your breath hitches. “But not for work.”

You can’t help your triumphant smile, and you lower your lashes, mindlessly twirling your almost empty glass between your fingers.

“She’s way too beautiful for you,” Steve chimes in and Javi just throws him the middle finger.

“What are you drinking?” Javi asks you, his eyes intense.

You stare back and feel that same familiar pull from the other night. When you tell him your drink of choice he hails down the bartender and orders another before Steve catches him in a quiet conversation.

Jess pins you with a glare.

“I know,” she says before you can get a word out. “He’s so sexy…but is he…?”

“Married?” you finish for her with a smile.

She rolls her eyes. “No…he’s definitely not married. Is he dangerous?”

You purse your lips with a shake of your head and down the tiny bit of liquid you had left in your glass.

“Not in the way you’re worried about,” you tell her.

She blows a raspberry of exasperation and eyes Javi over your shoulder.

“I can just tell. He’s a cop for fucks sake!” you whisper shout.

Jess giggles and leans in closer to you. “A really hot one.”

When your drink is ready Javi slides it down the bar to you.

“I knew you’d be drinking something like this,” he says.

“Is reading people a necessity in your job?” You flutter your lashes and lift the drink to you lips, noting how his eyes track the movement.

“Sometimes,” he says with a wink. “But the moment I saw you I figured that would be your drink of choice.”

“Is that so?” you hum.

“Actually, I look at you and think…”

You place a finger over his lips and his eyes widen slightly. You keep it there, gauging his reaction and when he kisses it softly you giggle and pull away.

“I have no idea what to do with you,” you tell him honestly.

“I have plenty of suggestions angel.”

“I’m sure that you do.”

“Do you want to hear them?” he murmurs, smirk firmly in place.

With a deep and steadying breath, you ask, “how about you tell me more about you first?”

You listen to every word that moves past his pouty lips, never before having such an urge to touch someone else’s mouth with your fingers.

He asks you a question but you’re too busy staring, only pulled from your trance when Jess elbows you in your side.

“What?” you say breathless.

“I asked you a question angel,” Javi chuckles, noting your distraction.

“I told you my name, you don’t have to keep calling me that,” you tell him, still unsure what the question was.

“What if I want to?” Javi murmurs as he leans closer.

Jess catches you as you sway into her, smiling over your shoulder and speaking loud enough for both Steve and Javi to hear.

“We’re taking a bathroom break!”

She tugs you away even though your head is turned and your eyes stayed glued to Javi and the way he watches you until you disappear down the hallway.

“Steve’s really cute too you know,” you say to her once the bathroom door is shut.

“He is,” she says in a matter-of-fact manner. “But I’m not sleeping with him.”

When you don’t say anything she turns from the mirror.

“Are you going to go home with him?”

“I…” you start. “I’m just enjoying him for now. I don’t want to think too far ahead.”

Her expression softens and she gives your arm a squeeze. “I get it. Let’s just have fun…”

She leaves the end of her comment hanging and you finish it for her with a flourish.

“And be safe of course!”

You smile at her and then check yourself one last time before holding the door open.

Jess and Steve strike up an animated conversation when you return to the bar and as they fade into the background and head to the dart board, you and Javi are left alone together.

Javi listens intently to every word you say, his body leaning closer the more you talk and every so often you watch his eyes drop to your lips and you unconsciously trace them with your tongue.

At one point someone bumps you from behind and pushes you into him, your chest brushing his and his arms circling your waist to steady you.

“You ok angel?” he asks, his eyes soft. “I could arrest him.”

That makes you laugh and then you realize how close your faces are and how everything seems to slow down.

You let out a rush of air and grab for his hand, pulling him away from the bar and toward the door.

Once you’re outside you breathe in the fresh air and lean your back against the cool brick of the building.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asks again.

You nod and he places his hand against the wall beside your head. If he kisses you now it won’t be soon enough.

“Why did you pull me out here?” His question is quiet, his breath warm against your cheek when he dips his head to whisper it into your ear.

At your silence he continues.

“I’m asking too many questions…” he says.

“No,” you say quickly. “It’s not that. It’s not you.”

“So, it’s not that I just render you completely speechless?”

It’s exactly like that and you don’t know how to handle it. You’re inexplicably drawn to him. You want to leave your fingerprints all over his skin, kiss every inch of his neck and taste the drink on his tongue.

“Ask me again,” you say.

His brow furrows before he understands and asks, “why did you bring me out here angel?”

“Because I wanted you all to myself.”

His hand still rests above your head but the other toys with the strap of your dress, his finger sliding under the fabric to trace the curve of your shoulder.

“You can have me. I’m all yours.”

The hand at your shoulder drops to the hem of your dress and he drags his fingers across it, slipping them under just enough to graze the inside of your thigh.

He doesn’t move it any higher, holding your gaze and waiting for any indication that you don’t’ want this.

You finally lift your hands, trailing your fingers along his chest until you find the open buttons of his shirt. Your fingertips slide over his skin, and you drag them over his neck and into his hair, grabbing a fist full and tugging his mouth down to yours.

The deep groan he makes has you arching away from the wall and into his hold. He sucks at your lips, pulling them into his mouth before he slides his tongue between, tasting you. The kiss deepens and his rumbling moan is a tease.

When he pulls away he’s panting against your lips and his eyes are still closed. He kisses the corner of your mouth as he slowly opens them.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” he whispers.

You curl your arms around his neck and press yourself closer. “I want you.”

His murmured “fuck” is all you hear before he steps back and grabs your hand, walking you briskly toward his car. Nothing else registers as you follow him, your sole focus on his muscular back shifting underneath his shirt with every movement.

You squeeze his hand tightly and he walks faster.

“Is this an unmarked cop car?” you ask as he opens the back door.

“You bet it is angel. Get in.”

“Aren’t we breaking the law or something?” you ask with a giggle.

He gives you a lopsided smirk and winks as he helps you in. Before you can take another breath he slams the door shut and drags you over his lap to straddle him.

The position makes your dress ride high on your thighs, but still restricts some of your movement. With a whine of frustration, you shimmy in place, and he grabs your dress and yanks it up.

Your fingers reach down to his belt, and you fumble to get it open, palming his hardness until you free him. He’s silky, warm, and perfect and you lick your lips.

“Fuck angel don’t do that to me. I need to be inside you. You can have me in your mouth later.”

“Is that a promise?” you ask in a breathless whisper.

He grabs your hips and crashes his lips to yours, pulling you down and rocking you over him. You press yourself harder against him until he slips his hand between your legs and rips the material of your panties free.

You gasp but it turns into a lewd moan when slid yourself down onto his cock. You start to move, gripping the top of the seat and riding him. His large hands hold your waist, urging you to move faster and harder.

He releases one hand and tugs your dress down, exposing the swell of your breast where he sucks and licks your soft skin.

Then you hear the sound of voices, people laughing and joking, and it grows louder. Your movements slow and Javi tenses beneath you.

“The windows are tinted angel. No one can see you but me.”

You nod and begin moving faster.

“Don’t stop, you feel so fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “But I need you to be quiet.”

You pull your lip between your teeth as his fingertips skim over your collarbone and neck. He hesitates for only a moment before his big hand covers your mouth.

He kisses your neck, and his hips start to move with yours, pushing upward. You can feel his control slipping and just as you hear the voices fade and the start of a car you tighten around him, your orgasm moving through you with a muffled scream. He’s right there with you, his hand falling from your mouth when you collapse against him. His arms circle you and he holds you against his chest.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes out, moving his head so he can look you in the eyes.

You brush the dark and damp hair from his forehead. “Do you have handcuffs in here?”

He stirs, still inside you, and buries his face in your neck with a muffled curse.

“At least let me take you to dinner first?” he asks with soft kisses to your throat.

“A date?”

“Yeah, a date,” he whispers.

“Can we use the handcuffs after?” you ask with a sweet smile.

He takes your hand in his, brushing his lips over your knuckles before kissing your palm.

“Anything you want angel.”

[moonpascaltoo]

JOEL MILLER

╰┈➤18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all joel miller stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some with have summaries if provided <3

MASTERLIST • PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS • 05/04/24

JOEL MILLER two three four five

@alltheirdamn ☼ declined pt2 pt3 You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back.

@psychedelic-ink ☼ a happy man when your friend sets you up on a blind date, you had no idea how impactful it would be.

@foli-vora ☼ once again in your arms the day of the outbreak, reader and baby were in town and she couldnt call joel (or viceversa) cause the phone lines were down. they were separated for a few years until they arrives at the quarantine zone he's in, and he recognizes them in the crowd.

@quin-ns ☼ invisible sting bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower

@swiftispunk ☼ snowflakes, a fireplace, and you you get more than you bargained for when you end up snowed in at miller's inn on christmas eve.

@fuckyeahdindjarin ☼ seams

@suzdin ☼ joel drabble

@auteurdelabre ☼ as long as you want pt2 When you're injured in the stables one morning your patrol partner and enemy Joel Miller is the only one there to help.

@stylesispunk ☼ the not so invisible string you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now? ☼ i couldn’t want you anymore when Sarah's mom came back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

@getitoutofmymindwrites ☼ the falling pt2 pt3 you catch Joel cheating on you. The world comes crushing down.

@netherfeildren ☼ greener memories of better men Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…

@eufezco ☼ jealous you’re a little jealous of tess.

@cavillscurls ☼ soft sweet You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.

@bluebeary-jay ☼ 5+1 5 times you wanted to kiss Joel, and 1 time it actually happened

@toxicanonymity ☼ needs Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

@yellowharrington ☼ wildflower and barely after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.

@motherjoel ☼ arms tonite basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

@alt-vera ☼ don’t take the girl when faced with a life-threatening choice, joel miller makes a surprising confession.

@fake-bleach ☼ feels so right Your college boyfriend's a dick, and it doesn't help that he dragged you along with him to a bar just to treat you like shit. You plan on catching a ride home after an incident between you two, but turns out that your dad's best friend's there too, and he saw everything. He ends up offering you a ride instead, but there's no promises that you make it back home for the night.

@dustydaddyyy ☼ sweetheart you're home from college for summer '99 to visit your parents, when your eye wanders upon their next-door neighbor, joel miller.

@undercoverpena ☼ honey stained hands He knew what Jackson was when he arrived the second time. A communal, a place where everyone chips in. It's why he doesn't turn his nose up when he's given menial tasks. One of which, is fixing his neighbour's porch. His neighbour, who is pretty and smiles too sweetly, bakes cakes for special birthdays, and stares at the toolbox he's been given with a haunted look, one which raises more questions than answers.

@joelscruff ☼ softdom joel a collection of important moments between you and joel miller, your grumpy new patrol partner in jackson, wyoming. ☼ one thing im missing you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming.

@punkshort ☼ somewhere to run You move to a small town in the middle of Texas to escape your past and start over. You don't expect to fall for the town's handsome sheriff. ☼ hate when you’re right After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

@eupheme ☼ in the woods somewhere When a break-in startles you awake, it’s hard not to assume the worst. But when the thief is revealed to be a teenager just trying to help her wounded guardian - you find your heart softening. ☼ are you mine? A change in your usual patrol schedule, a dash of over-protectiveness, and a gossipy partner leads to you desperately wish you could turn back time

@gutsby ☼ hating game Celebrating your dad’s birthday at the yacht club becomes damn near unbearable when Joel Miller brings a date along too. Jealousy and hate sex ensue. ☼ abstaining game The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin. ☼ wingman Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

@jobean12-blog ☼ kiss to kiss Joel is grumpier than usual and the only way to make it better is YOU.

[jolapeno]

PPCU AO3 WRITERS DATABASE

>> click to open database <<

after this post the other day, i've birthed this little database to share writers on tumblr who also post on AO3 (or vice versa) in the pedro pascal character fanfic space (not rpf, sorry).

key benefits: it is more accessible to those who use screenreaders, those who wish to download fics to read on their e-readers or for longer series. plus, for writers, if you cross-post, people can subscribe and either read on there or tumblr, and interact with you - as notifications aren't always the best on here.

how to use:

> the database is locked to view only. > it is organised by A-Z by tumblr name by me. > you can add a "temporary" filter to organise this differently. i.e. Z-A, by AO3 name, or even the fandom list.

housekeeping:

the fandom list is up to date as of adding, if you expand out into other fandoms, i won't be updating (I'm sorry), but at least this is a starting point.

i can/will add other people, but please comment on >> THIS << post for now.

____

just tooting some moots who helped spread the word:

@goodwithcheese @saradika @secretelephanttattoo @ezrasbirdie

@pedgito @nothoughtsjustmeds @swiftispunk @harriedandharassed

[slvtforoldermen]

Pedro’s Characters: The Dick-tionary

How big are Pedro Pascal’s characters and some NSFW headcannons

(WARNING: DETAILS OF PENISES AND TALKS OF SEX - MDNI)

Part Two <3

A/N: Sorry I never continued Fluff February :(, I lost motivation so I’ll just write them and post them as a prompt list for whenever…

Joel Miller:

Okay, all his characters are big, it’s a known fact, but Joel is 100% the biggest. Probably about 8.5 inches, with a pretty pink mushroom tip, and GIRTHY AGH! There’s a vein on it that is really visible when he’s hard. Oh and his balls are big too. Everything about Joel is just big. Not only is he big but you best believe he knows how to use it too. He’s got a daddy kink… Fav positions are missionary and cowgirl, however when he’s angry doggy or the mating press are a no-brainer. Daddy kink! DOMINANT!!! There’s no way this man is a sub, it just doesn’t work, he’s just so dom yknow, and when he’s soft, he’s the sweetest he’s ever been, but if he’s angry, hard dom Joel comes out and that’s a man you don’t wanna piss off if you wanna cum. He’s got such a daddy kink. “Fuck babygirl/boy, you’re so fucking sweet, sugar. So fucking good for daddy. Yeah baby? You like that? Such a good little girl/boy, so fucking sweet.” Daddy kink is such is a big thing for him. Hair wise? Well it’s the apocalypse so it’s probably hard to find the Manscaper 3000 or whatever. He trims his hair with some scissors, honestly he didn’t really care for shaving before you, so he just let it grow, but once when you were sucking him, you almost sneezed from how much it tickled your nose and made a little joke about it after, which made Joel feel a little bad so he cut them just a little shorter. Oh I’m sorry and did I mention… DADDY KINK!!!

Javier Peña:

(Here I’m purely writing about Javier Pena in a fictional sense AS PEDRO, not the real guy, this has nothing to do with the real Javier Pena)

Okay, Javier, my baby daddy. Um, who said that- ANYWAYS! Javier is probably the second biggest, in joint place with Oberyn, definitely about 7-7.5 inches, as he’s nicknamed by moi, the Pussy Slayer of Medellin. It goes without saying that Javier is rough, as we’ve seen, side note: I don’t know why I thought watching Narcos with my family would be a good idea… I was sat on the couch like “😀 okay, I’m watching Pedro have sex next to my mum, just a normal Saturday morning…” anyways back to it (hehe Negan reference) but Javier is rough, doggy and cowgirl are his favourite positions, but sometimes when he’s feeling a little somber he likes a little missionary. As how domestically-kinky I like my men, I’m a little disappointed that Javier isn’t a committed man, but he does have a tiny 🤏 breeding kink, he defo isn’t a fan of being called daddy, in fact just call him Javi and he’s yours, and he’s dom obviously. “Oh carino, you take my cock so well, you good little whore… fuck… my sweet little angel.” I mean, we’ve all seen his hair, so do we really need address it, that also might genuinely be my fav sex scene in all of cinema history.

Oberyn Martell

Okay, admittedly, I haven’t seen any proper scenes of Oberyn, because I’ve just started GOT, so I have no clue what his character is like apart from being a HUGE BISEXUAL SLUT, so he’s just like me 🤭

Oberyn, tying with Javier, is about 7-7.5 inches, and I feel like his cock is definitely a lot more tan than others, idk why, it’s just an instinct. Defo uncircumcised. His fav positions are definitely cowgirl OH and dude is the literal definition of a pillow prince, again, just like me. Suck his dick, please, just suck his dick. Again, I don’t know how he’s presented in GOT, but I’m like 74% sure he’s dominant? From the clips I’ve seen 🫣 Hair wise, do razors exists in the GOT world? Or does my man just shave himself with a sword.

Javi Gutierrez:

Oh my sweet baby Javi… he’s so kinky. I’m fully convinced he’s into full BDSM, not so much where he has to do it every single time, but maybe like once a month. When I was watching TUWOMT for the first time, when Nick is about to go into the room with all his merch and stuff, I was dead convinced it was gonna be a sex dungeon. There’s no way a man is this sweet and adorable without being into some freaky shit.

Anyway, Javi is about 6.5 inches, with a sweet pink tip and he’s definitely a giver not a taker, don’t get him wrong, he ADORES you with his dick in your mouth, but he prefers to eat you out/suck your dick for hours on end. Oh and he’s a sweet talker, when you guys aren’t being full kinky, he’ll praise you to hours on end, mumbling in your ear how good you are in that sexy accent of his. Is a little bit of a switch, but mostly dominant, soft dom if it’s a normal night but if it’s that special night, only your safe word will pull him out of hard dom space. Definitely the type to overstimulate you in a sweet way “you can take it right sweetheart? Mi amor~ just take my cock nice and good, ahí tienes.” Um, daddy kink for surely, but not like every single night like Joel. But when he’s between your legs, and he’s stimulated you so far into sub space, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, and you’re reaching up for him, babbling how good his cock feels in your hole, he can’t help but coo down at you and praise you so hard. He’s not bald, but his hair isn’t long, just trimmed to the point where it tickles your nose when you suck his cock.

Din Djarin

Okay, so I think it’s canon that Din hasn’t really ever felt human touch, so I feel he’s really inexperienced… but the dude’s got a pretty dick. Like it’s just so… pretty. About 6 inches with a sweet baby pink tip, he’s so sensitive too. He loves head but he really can’t say it, he’s just too embarrassed. I just get the vibe that he’s mostly subby. He tried to be dom once but the poor baby couldn’t handle it all. But then he tried again and he did so good, but it tired him out, so if he’s domming, which is once in a blue moon, he’s going to be soft, maybe even softer than Javi. Mommy/Daddy kink!! “Please, I’m good right? Please, please tell me I’m doing good… you always feel so so good, I love you so much.” Please, he’s so sweet I love him. It’s rare that you guys get off together because of reasons due to his upbringing and stuff so he just likes being taken care of, the sweet boy. Before you, he never really cared for shaving, so when you first strip together, he’s a little nervous about it, and then after that he trims it, quite short.

Marcus Moreno

If anyone says this man is a hard dom they’re just kidding themselves, this man is the sweetest man out there, obviously not as much as Din ofc <3.

Marcus has an obsession with using his hands, making you cum just by fingering you. Then when he’s inside you, he slips his fingers into your mouth, or around your neck, or on your cheek. His dick is about 7 inches, and like everyone else, knows how to use it perfectly. Angel is one of his favourite nicknames to call you. “My perfect Angel, taking my cock so good baby…” whilst hes thrusting into you ever so gently. Would never EVER do it when Missy is around, so quickies before picking Missy up from school are his go to, but he loves the days where his mom can take her out for the day or even a grandma sleepover so he can be with you for hours. You under him, over him, him inside you, his good girl/boy, his good angel. Pleasuring you until you get numb. The armpit hair in the scene of the gif gets me and idk why, I have never had a thing for armpit hair but maybe I’m just really horny, but his hair down there is nice and trimmed, not bald, never bald.

Tim Rock(Hard)Ford

Here we go…

Oh Tim man! I have a teensy 🤏 detective kink so when Pedro played this role it was over for me.

Maybe it’s the greying, like Joel, but I feel like he’s huge, just like Joel. He’s 8 inches, living his best life. But he’s just a tired old man, so when he gets home, please just get on your knees for him, he’ll just lay there, stroking your hair, praising you, telling you how good you suck his cock. Then he’ll bring you up to the bed and return the favour, making sure to always get you to tell him about your day as he does so. Saturday nights are always his favourite time to rail into you, he’s had the whole day off, just resting, watching you walk around, getting him so worked up. He has a domestic kink. So seeing you do chores get him so hard. Loves fucking between your thighs when you’re sleeping because he gets home so late and just needs a little relief, but you look so cute and peaceful while you sleep and because he’s so considerate, he doesn’t wanna wake you. “So good for me baby, so good for daddy, gonna fill you up, you’re not gonna let any of my cum slip out right, gonna keep it all in your tummy, yeah, that’s it, cum for me.” TALKS YOU THROUGH IT!!! Sleeps naked. Not trimmed, not shaved, just grows it out, he’s old so he doesn’t care, it’s not like anyone but you would be seeing him like this anyways.

Dieter Bravo

I love Dieter, he’s so cute.

Not dom, but not sub either, just dom enough to see you break under him but sub enough to whimper and get soooo desperate. Such a huge pillow prince, he loves it when you suck him, especially when you grab his balls and caress them, he cums so quick when that happens. He’s about 6.5 inches, and it loves fast, not as in quickie, but he loves seeing you fall apart as he jackhammers into your hole. When you ride him he gets so sweet, and he can last long, don’t worry, but you just look so pretty on top of him, he can’t help it, please don’t be mad at him. Has a thing for dry humping, especially in the morning when he’s too lazy to move properly. “So good baby, oh yeah, fuck, grind against me just like that, mmmf fuck…” loves to beg and watch you beg, he’s so good to and for you, don’t doubt him ever. He doesn’t shave, he trims it, but he’s so goofy, so once he shaved it into a heart.

[fairies-in-the-garden]

a worthwhile purchase

pedro pascal x fem!reader | 3k words

summary: your new robe grips pedro's attention… leaving the both of you very pleased you bought it

warnings/notes: explicit (18+). smut. p in v. oral (fem receiving). established relationship. mutual teasing (but dominant pedro) some soft pedro. pretty much filth with some lead up.

a/n - first post!!! i've been writing for years but only now have the guts to post anything. sorry if it’s a bit too wordy (i just love writing detailed description) i really hope you enjoy - this one was very fun to make :)

--- --- ---

with a flick of the light switch, you make your way out of the darkened bathroom to join pedro in bed. the thought of curling up sweetly beside him almost as warm as the new robe, fresh from the dryer, that delicately hugs your figure.

to your surprise, he is sitting on the end of the bed, patiently, seemingly awaiting your arrival. the sound of your soft steps against the hardwood floor catches his attention, his head turning to you approaching in the doorway. instantly, his expression shifts - a look all to familiar, happily so.

“what?” you say a few times, at first with genuine curiosity, then more so with slight tease. you can’t help but smirk at him, against your best attempt at remaining unaffected by his gaze.

you’re stuck standing in your place against the doorframe; his affect on you strong as ever. nevertheless, you try to fight it - the best way you know how.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you say, teasingly. you know the meaning beneath that look. but you also know that how you approach this moment, makes the reason for that look’s presence even more avid.

“like what?” he plays along, per usual. he has that way of never breaking character. that way of not revealing his fatal smirk until he wants to.

“like a kid in a candy store.” you reply, coyly.

“i can't help it, it's how i feel.” his head tilts to the side, as to take you all in. his stare burns into you, and you love the way it stings just right.

blushing, you walk towards him; pedro’s eyes never dropping their gaze upon yours. his legs spread instinctually to allow you closer, yet his hands stay prudently at his side. you step in as far as possible, thighs touching thighs. as you place your hands at his ever-so-tense shoulders, his hands wrap swiftly around your wrists, grabbing hold of them gently. his eyes remain locked on yours as his lips, in which your timid gaze has fallen to, part to speak. “when did you get this?”

at first, your mind is too blissed out to understand what he’s referring to, but his fingers quickly bring you back to reality. one of his hands now trails to the sleeve of your filly new robe; black and satin, draped over your body in the most heavenly way. the front hangs open, exposing your figure beneath it.

“today,” you state plainly.

“any particular reason?” he says suggestively.

“i like the way it makes me feel.”

“i like the way it makes you look.” he says, eyes widening at his own words as they scan up and down your frame. you scoff slightly in response, unconvinced of his words of praise.

“i’m not even in my sexy underwear.” you find yourself to say in a whisper, though not exactly sure why. probably the nerves from his longing eyes now back on yours.

“i still think they're sexy,” his lips remain parted slightly, as if to say more. his hands fall from their place on your arms to your hips, his fingers hanging gingerly from the waistband of your panties. then he continues, shyly like a child, but with enough charm to kill a village, “can i take them off?”

his hard, dominating gaze falls soft for a moment as he begs beneath you. with the slight shift, a surge of confidence rushes through you.

“i suppose.” you say teasingly, feeling as though you now have the upper hand.

his hands make their way around your waist to your back. icy, their touch sends a shiver up your spine. abruptly, to your dismay, you exclaim "jesus your hands are cold!” your eyes fall shut, head thrown back, as your hands grasp the hair at the back of his head for support.

“not for long.” he claims, the smirk in his voice evident. and just like that, as usual, your short-lived dominance has been stolen. your eyes remain shut for a moment, as if to prepare yourself for what’s to come.

“look at me.” you tilt your head down before slowly opening your eyes; eyelids hanging low as if to cover yourself somehow. but theres no staying covered when pedro is like this.

he looks up at you, pupils enlarging as he takes you all in. you feel his hand gently trace circles on your lower back. you watch him intently as he leans forward, placing a kiss between your breasts. the contact makes you shudder, your breath hitching and becoming heavier, more needy. you’re convinced he must be able to hear your heart beating from the outside; it’s certainly all you can hear in the moment. he hums as he pulls away from the lingering kiss.

“i love that after all these years you still react that way.” he thinks he is in control here, and although you know he is, you’re desperate to act the opposite. after a moment of collection, you have the courage to speak.

“and still, after all these years, i'm impatient.” you say giving him a certain look.

“i’m gonna take things slow.” - again with the assumed control, you think.

“i’ll allow it.” you say proudly, managing to remain serious and self-assured. he chuckles at your words, a defeated grin taking over his lips. that’s better.

both of pedro’s hands trail up, locating the clasp of your bra and undoing it in a swift, skilled motion. you’d hoped he’d find your wearing it to bed silly, leading to this eventually; but this is all the more greater than you’d anticipated.

your breasts spill out slightly, though still somewhat contained by the straps wrapped around your shoulders. pedro’s hands slowly snake out from behind your back, carefully caressing your waist on the way. reaching both arms up the billowing sleeves of your robe, he grabs ahold of the straps, gently bringing them down around your arms.

“now that's real sexy, huh?” you say sarcastically at the odd maneuver. he watches you intently as you speak, spellbound by you. you’re not even sure he heard what you said. then his eyes make way to your chest, your breasts bouncing out from your bra, now fallen to the floor.

“really sexy.” he says, eyeing your now exposed chest.

his hands find their way around you again, pulling you in to close the gap. you fall into him, your legs lazily finding their place on either side of him for support. eager, his mouth finds way to your breasts, leaving a trail of sweet kisses across your skin. the warm, wet sensation leaves you entranced. your chest rapidly heaves as he works his magic. coming up for air, he looks to you, eyes darkened with lust, before diving back in for more - this time to your mouth.

his kiss starts sweet, tender, and deepens to a rough, sloppy fashion. your hands, still tangled in his hair, move down to the neck of his shirt, pulling on it as if to signal him. he obeys, lifting his arms up, not breaking the kiss until the last necessary moment. once his shirt is off, thrown somewhere across the room, he goes right back for more.

his hands are immediately back to your waist, nuzzled under the soft satin of your robe. your lips go numb from the euphoria of it all. gently, he grabs your bottom lip with his teeth, nibbling it softly. releasing it, with one last peck to your mouth, he pulls away. you whimper at the loss of contact.

“can you lay down for me?” he asks tenderly as he rises, guiding you up with him. you happily take his supporting arms, finding that your legs are no help in the process. eyes lock as you nod, biting your lip as you turn with him, your body now the one at the edge of the bed. 

he leads you benevolently to lay on your back, using his knee to spread your legs as he does. your body melts into the mattress, completely at pedro’s will - and he lives for it.

your back arches as you adjust yourself on the bed. pedro’s rough hands lay softly on your knees, holding them open as he watches over you. “fuck,” his tone is rough before it turns sweet, “look at you...” you wonder if the words weren’t meant to slip out. you blush at them regardless. 

as his hands slide up your thighs, your eyes squint shut in anticipation. pedro, however, wildly gazes down at you. “so wet for me already, huh...” he says brazenly, noticing your already soaked panties. his hands linger closer to tease the skin just before your still clothed pussy, achingly taking his time.

“pedro,” you whimper. the pace, although clearly stated earlier, is driving you crazy with need. he ignores your words and continues his game. climbing onto the end of the bed, he hovers over you. his hands now on your waist. his eyes locked on your burning face. you watch him, dazed, waiting for him to make his next move.

his fingers dance around the waistband of your panties, beginning to tug at them, then stopping all at once. you grunt. he laughs to himself, then proceeds again. looping around the hem, pedro pulls them down painfully slowly. the cool air of the room hits your most sensitive spot in a delightfully, erotic way. 

as you lift your hips for him to remove the tangled cloth the rest of the way, he helps you - raising your legs the rest of the way then resting them over his shoulders when done. leaning down, you feel his hot breathe right where you want it.

with a kiss to each thigh, ever so close to your throbbing center, you let out an agonizing moan. “pedro, please.” you sound desperate, but you don’t care anymore.

“what?” acting coy, he begins to pull back to look to you, but you force him back down with your legs before he has the chance. you hear that smirk in his voice again when he speaks, “what do you want, baby? tell me.”

“touch me,” you say instantly, breathlessly, “now.”

in lieu of words, he breaks the distance. his mouth crashing into your pussy, spreading you open with his warm, eager tongue. he aims straight for your aching clit. a whimpering mess, your back wiggles and arches with every movement. your hands grasp hopelessly at the sheets before moving to his hair. his head bobs beneath your hands, your body squirming pleasantly beneath him.

“oh fuck,” you let out as his tongue works at all the places you need it most.

“that’s it baby,” his words are tender as he pulls away briefly. a whimper is all that fills the air as you mourn the loss of his sweet contact. with composure, you lift your head to look down at him. his face shiny, lips dripping with your slick, his eyes fixated on yours. 

with a smirk he spits directly on your clit. your back arches at the euphoric sensation. eyes rolling back, your head follows swiftly with a thud to the pillow beneath it. before you can even plead for him to hurry up, pedro dives right back in for more; eager to clean up the mess he’s made.

your legs struggle to remain open, closing in around his head, as the feeling in your lower stomach builds more intensely. his hands, wrapped firmly around your thighs, hold you down and open for him. breaking contact with your aching slit once more, he speaks softly against your inner thigh, “use your hips baby, take what you need from me.” with a kiss to your warm skin, he resumes his favorite activity.

this time he aims further down, fucking your hole with his skillful tongue. your hips remain still beneath his touch, too focused on keeping a steady breath. but he is clear in his demands; he always is. pressing his nose to your clit, the motion of his work creates the perfect rhythm for an increasing high. tightening your grip on the curls by his neck, you wiggle and grind beneath his face. with every flick of his tongue, every bounce of his nose on your throbbing bud, you’re tugging, pulling at his hair. soft, pleased moans vibrate against you’re wet folds.

“oh god,” you exclaim, “fuckkk,” your words dissolve into a pathetic whimper. he takes this as a sign to go harder. mouth now returning to your clit, he begins to suck, his hand now nearing to join it. two rough fingers slip up and down your opening, acclimating them to your pussy. teasingly slowly and with intentional force, he fills you up just right.

“pedro please,” you huff out in agony. removing his mouth from your wet slit, he looks up to you; pretty as a devil. fingers still working your pussy he speaks, tone low and full of lust, “please... what?” you know the game he’s playing at.

not an ounce of the teasing confidence you earlier tried to possess is left in you as he tires you from the inside out. when you don’t speak quick enough, his rough fingers begin to bend, curling up into you in an assertive manner. 

a frustrated “fuck,” leaves your lips, quivering from the overstimulation. “please,” he watches as your chest rises and falls with heavy, shaky breathes, “i need you...” you know that’s not going to satisfy him to the extent he desires, so you breathlessly continue, “i need you to fuck me.”

fingers slipping out of you with a pop, pedro brings them to your mouth with dark eyes searing into your own. “open,” you oblige with no contest. taking his dripping fingers into your mouth, your tongue licks the mess you’d made of them clean.

with swiftness, he’s at the end of the bed, on his feet before you; eyes never leaving yours. your own, heavy with lust, look hungrily up to him. your shaking fingers find their way to peaked nipples from their place clutching the sheets beneath you. circling your raised peaks you begin to thrust your hips at nothing; eager for the presence of him.

pedro’s hands are at his waistband. rapidly, he undoes his belt with ease. jeans falling to his feet, he wastes no time in fully removing them before he’s grabbing you by the hips to pull you to him. 

adjusting himself to your entrance, he spits on your open, throbbing pussy once more before he slides in with delicious ease. you pull your bottom lip in to stop the whimper that begs to fall from it.

“that’s it baby, atta girl.” one of his hands presses firmly down on your right hip, holding you in place. at the same time, his other hand lingers up to grab ahold of your breast. the room, dim and hot, is filled only with the sounds of skin on skin, of whimpers and moans, of pure, overwhelming pleasure.

his thrusts are steady and deep before he suddenly pulls out, running the tip of his cock firmly against your aching clit. your back arches involuntarily, head digging firmly into the pillow for support. with efficiency, he’s back inside in an instant. 

he’s huddled over on top you now, his chest on yours, craving to be as close to you as he can. as he dips his head into the curve of your neck, hot breathe fans across your skin sending a shiver down your burning hot spine. your rapid pulses and shaky breaths begin to sync as pedro pounds up into your g-spot. your arms go suddenly to grip his shoulder’s for support as he hits it just right.

head still buried in your neck, he leaves sweet kisses behind your ear, nipping at the soft the skin here and there. with his thrusts becoming sloppier and slower he speaks, “you close baby?” your walls clench from his words, your back arching under his weight. “fuck,” he hisses.

“cum for me baby,” he demands before softening his tone, “can you do that?” he slips out slightly before diving deep into you again. hard and fast, he works your body to climax. spasming, inside and out, you begin to whine and cry out. clenching down tight around his cock, you have so much built up energy you simply don’t know what to do with. your nails dig into the toned muscles at the back of his neck as you squirm beneath him. “yeahhh, just like that baby,” he hums, coaxing you through your orgasm.

the pressure in your stomach builds and builds before it collapses like a wave against the shore. gasping for air, your hands caress pedro’s head as he follows right behind you. with a final rough thrust, he’s done for - the tough man that held so much power over you, now a whimpering mess at your will.

“oh fuck baby, fuck,” he whines. 

moments pass, your bodies still entwined as you come down from your shared breathless high. with a kiss to your temple, pedro finally removes his twitching cock from within you. a low and gutural groan escapes him as he slides through your tight walls one final time.

falling to the bed beside you, his arms stay tenderly wrapped around your body. laying there easing your breath, you look around the room. layers of clothing lay scattered about, but the only thing you care to take note of is your new robe tousled on the floor. a lazy smirk creeps onto your flushed face.

pedro, watching over you with admiration, brushes the unruly hair from your face. noticing your gaze fixated on something, he follows it. with a soft chuckle and a tender squeeze to your hip he states into the still calm after the storm, “i’m real glad you got that thing.” he plants a warm kiss to your shoulder. turning to face him, you sink into the depth of his big brown eyes.

“me too,” you hum, blissfully.

[flightlessangelwings]

While we’re in Latino Heritage Month, let’s stop assuming your reader doesn’t know/speak Spanish in your reader insert fics. Especially if you’re writing for Pedro’s, Oscar’s or other Latino characters please.

EDIT: After some criticism of how this was originally phrased, let me change it into a question/request instead- Can we as writers please try to be more inclusive with our reader insert fics so poc and others can feel represented and see themselves too? Including taking out a quick throwaway line about reader not understanding Spanish. (Keeping the original phrasing above so anyone who missed the post to begin with can still see how I originally phrased it)

If you have a throwaway line of “he said in Spanish that you didn’t understand” or something similar, just take it out. Have something like “you didn’t hear” instead and let the reader interpret how they want. Or use italics to indicate Spanish. Or have the translation right there without mention of anyone translating for them. Simple. Or if you don’t want to/feel you cannot change it, then please have something in with your warnings so Latinos/poc can skip it if they choose.

And let me tell you why this is so frustrating (even for me as someone who is not a fluent speaker). It’s because Latinos look to these characters and actors for representation. We see ourselves in them. And when you clearly do not have a Latino person in mind when writing, you’re saying we don’t belong here. In a space where we should feel welcomed and celebrated. Representation matters. Inclusivity matters. Please try to be more inclusive with reader fics so we can all enjoy and immerse ourselves in your writing.

ALSO EDITING TO ADD MORE FROM A REBLOG SO EVERYONE CAN SEE MY CLARIFICATION: (under a cut for length)

This is nothing new, poc have been asking for years now to be inclusive in fics and yet it’s still a battle. We’re not asking for a lot, and certainly not asking anyone to change their style or creativity or anything like that. Literally simple edits: take out the word “blush” don’t mention hair, don’t mention not understanding Spanish, not making reader blood related to a white character, etc. Literally tiny things that would not change the story at all but make a world of difference.

Here’s an example too: a few years ago it was not common for writers to label the gender of their reader as it was usually assumed the reader would be a woman. But, people advocated to label readers as f/m/gn/whatever to be more inclusive and asked writers to strive for gender neutral readers when possible so that more readers felt seen and welcome. Now it’s a common thing to do. Why is making the readers race ambiguous any different?

Yes sometimes posts like this come across harsh, but know that they’re not meant to be. Poc aren’t trying to demand anything, we just ask to broaden your langauge when writing reader insert so more can see themselves in your work. It’s incredibly frustrating to ask for inclusivity and be met with hostility and rudeness in return and a refusal to think about poc so yes sometimes the wording gets harsh out of that frustration. But I encourage y’all to focus on the message more and maybe think about why poc in fandom get snippy like this. We do need to have an open conversation, yes. Just look in the comments at the Latinos and poc who are upset by the exclusion and feel hurt by it. How you you white fans feel if roles were reversed and none of the fics included you? Not fun, right?

And to those who say write it yourself: I do. I’ve been a x reader writer for years now and I do strive for inclusivity in my work. But I’m only one person and this is bigger than any one person. This isn’t about what I personally find acceptable or what I personally what. It should be a collective effort among writers as a whole to strive to include as many as possible in their works and not white code your readers. It’s not about demanding writers write it a certain way, it’s about asking writers to consider others who don’t look like them who also want the immersion and the escape that your fic brings.

[darklinaforever]

To those who say that The Acolyte cannot be the victim of racism-related hatred because of the main actors of Andor, Mandalorian and Ahsoka make me slowly laugh.

Diego Luna may be Mexican, but he's sort of white-skinned. Pedro Pascal is under a fucking mask the majority of the time, and Ahsoka may be an Afro Latina actress is a character who was basically one in the animation, being part of an alien race. Natasha Liu Bordizzo also plays a person who was originally in animation with a fanbase that already existed.

You may think that all this does not play a role in public perception, particularly racist in terms of their tolerance, but you are wrong (especially in the reception of an animated character compared to live action like with Sabine). On the contrary, it plays a huge role in their criticism. And precisely, thanks to that they can hide behind the excuse of not being racist.

Amandla is a black woman who play a completely new character. She pulls the triple hat for the worst of the worst in Star Wars fandom. Namely the sexist criticisms and the misogynistic criticisms, and criticizes of the untouchable Lore / what they think Star Wars is supposed to be, which all combine together.

Without forgetting that the one who makes the show is also a woman, a lesbian on top of that, who inevitably infuses her vision into Star Wars.

Stop acting like it doesn't matter.

And hiding behind the fact that many love Qimir and want the continuation of his story to make people believe that there is no racism linked to Amandla forgets some details on this subject.

Literally, these people completely remove the female character, Osha, from Qimir, while you can't tell his story by removing the girl. The characters work together and not separately. They don't understand that the essence of Qimir's character is linked to Osha. And obviously they don't understand that he's more complex than a Sith either.

These people who only focus on Many don't understand the character at all. Most also have misogynistic remarks towards Osha / Amandla.

So, frankly, taking those who specifically focus on Qimir as a standard to prove that there is no racism, only shows their incompetence in analysis and understanding of media, without forgetting the other horrible side that this show has had to face ; misogyny.

Be realistic, the show suffered a huge hate campaign well before its release and therefore the slightest trace of the storyline !

And yes, the storyline of The Acolyte is not perfect, but that is far from the main reason why the show is criticized ! A little realism and objectivity, please !

It's to the point that there is a counter-petition to prove that people don't want The Acolyte to be renewed, and sorry for the haters, but the numbers painfully prove you otherwise.

[punkette1026]

I Run to You

Summary:

After a fight with Pedro, you two go your separate ways for the holidays. However after receiving a phone call that Pedro got hurt, you rush to him in the hopes that you can salvage your relationship and nurse him back to health.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader (use of Y/N)

Rating: T

Word Count: 9155

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Author's Notes: Thank you all for your support. This one was a little scary to write because I have never written a Pedro non character fic. Please be kind and let me know what you think!

****italics means flashbacks

This was not how you expected your Christmas Eve to go. You were supposed to be in the kitchen helping your mother bake her famous Christmas cookies. Instead, here you were on a plane rushing to see your boyfriend of three years, Pedro. You felt a surge of guilt in your chest as you realized that you should have never agreed to spend the holidays apart after having one of the biggest fights in your life.

You had spent the last few days at your parents’ house moping around debating whether or not to call him and apologize first. Then you got a call from Pedro’s sister Lux, letting you know that they had to take him to the hospital. When you heard those words, it felt like your whole world stopped. The fight that you had with him no longer mattered. All of that went out the window and you knew that you had to get to him as soon as you could. However, getting a flight out to Chile on a holiday weekend was going to be nearly impossible. Thankfully, after numerous calls and by a Christmas miracle, your dad got you on the first flight out to Santiago.

As you sat there looking out the plane window, you couldn’t help but think back to the fight that you and Pedro had. Now it seemed so senseless, but back then, it became intense quickly. Sure, you had small fights before, but nothing like this. You both said some things that you regret and neither one had yet to apologize or even check in on each other.

You remembered that it all started over a picture you saw on X. You had already gotten cozy under the covers while Pedro got ready for bed in the bathroom. After scrolling through tik Tok for a while, you switched over to X and that’s when you saw it. It was a picture of your boyfriend walking out of a restaurant. The caption read, “New Couple Alert! Pedro Pascal and former costar seen getting cozy at prominent LA restaurant Friday night. The pair was spotted having drinks and left in smiles as Pedro walked the actress to her car. Could this be the start of a new power couple?”

Normally these types of rumors didn’t bother you. You could care less, because you had seen for fair share of them, and you knew that every single one of them was a stretch. You also knew that was something that you were going to have to get used to if you were going to date a celebrity. However, to you, Pedro wasn’t a celebrity. He never acted like it and was very down to earth. If fact, that was what drew you to him when you first met.

You remembered like it was yesterday when he stepped out of his house and saw you outside of your own home struggling to change the tire on your car. For whatever reason, you just couldn’t seem to get the last nut off of the rim.

To be honest, Pedro had noticed you way before that, but he had been chickening out. He first took notice of you when you moved into the neighborhood over a week ago. He was hesitant even then to come over and introduce himself. He was instantly taken back by your beauty as soon as he laid eyes on you for the first time. You looked absolutely stunning in that black polka dot dress. Your smooth legs glistened in the hot summer sun. Much to his luck, it looked like you were moving into the single story alone. He did spot two other people helping you, but it looked like they were your parents. Little did he know, but that was the first time that you saw him too.

After that the only interaction that you two had was a quick wave here and there when one of you left. Neither one of you had mustered up the courage to go over and introduce yourselves to each other. Pedro almost chickened out that day as well, but after giving himself a pep talk, he decided that it was finally time to go over and say hi.

Quickly doing his best to look presentable and that meant in his favorite Lakers shirt and a pair of gray shorts, Pedro casually walked out of his house like he was going to go check his mail. Then when he was hidden by a couple of cars, he crossed the street and began walking up your side of the street making a B line straight to you. You didn’t even see him come up from behind.

“Hi there neighbor!” he called out to you. “I was just walking by and noticed you struggling there. Do you need any help?”

“Oh my, you scared me,” you chuckled. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. I have been struggling to get this damn nut off. I think it’s stuck, or I did something wrong.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. You just need a little more muscle. May I?” he asked holding out his hand.

You nodded appreciating the help and handed him the tire iron, “Of course, knock yourself out.”

Like nothing, as soon as Pedro tried to turn the tire iron, the nut came loose with ease. “See there, easy as pie!” He smiled up at you with his dimple on full display.

You almost melted right there and then. It took all that you had to not lose your shit. “Hey that’s not fair. I’ve be trying to get that off for the past fifteen minutes!”

“What can I say, you just needed little more muscle,” he teased again before helping you swap out the flat tire for the spare. “There you go, all done.”

“Thank you so much! You are such a life saver. I was so sure that I was going to have to call a tow company. I’m Y/N by the way,” you introduced yourself.

He hesitated for a second with shaking your hand. He didn’t want to get you dirty, but when he saw your hands were equally covered in grime, he graciously shook it, “Hello Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Pedro, I live across the street.”

You let out a cute giggle that melted his heart, “Yes, I know exactly who you are Mr. Pascal. I... may have seen a movie or two of yours. Also Mrs. Walker next door seems to be very smitten for you too. She came over with some cookies and told me all about the famous movie star that lives in the neighborhood.” Mrs. Walker was their 85-year-old widow that took care of the neighborhood.

Pedro’s face grew red with embarrassment, “umm...yeah, she may or may not have a crush on me. Listen umm...Y/N, I was going to grab a coffee or something. You-you wouldn’t want to join me, would you? I-I mean if you are not busy or anything. If you are then no big deal maybe next time. I can-I can just go by myself.”

You thought the way he nervously rambled on was adorable. You had never met a celebrity before, and he was completely different from what you thought it would be like. From your very brief experience with him, Pedro was just a normal guy, older, but normal guy. You weren’t going to lie to yourself when you thought that he was pretty attractive too. That dimpled smile of his, the soft brown curls, and those broad shoulders of his, ugh all of him got your blood going. Not to mention that he towered over you. That was one of your turn ons. You could almost imagine yourself wrapped in his embrace.

“Um...yeah, I think I can do that. I was going to go get groceries, but I think that can wait till tomorrow. Besides, it’s not every day that Oberyn Martel asks you to get a cup of coffee. Did you know that Mrs. Walker has a few photos of you up on her wall in that ugly mustard robe?”

“Okay first off, that robe is freaking amazing, super comfortable. Next, I did not need to know that. Do you know how awkward it’s going to be now when she brings me over one of her famous apple pies? I’m not going to be able to look at her in the eyes now,” he groaned causing you to giggle again. “Well, I’m that you find that funny Y/N. You know if I was a smart guy, I would revoke my coffee offer to you.”

“Awe did the little celebrity get all embarrassed,” you said like you were talking to a baby. “Well, I’m sorry Pedro, I apologize. If I buy you a cup of coffee, will that make you feel better.”

Pedro playfully pouted his lips with a frown, “It might, but I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t buy you the first cup. So about I buy us coffee time, then next time, you can buy that round.”

Your heart about nearly skipped a beat at the thought of possibly getting to hang out with him at a later point in time. You felt like a giddy schoolgirl who’s crush finally gave you the time of day. But at the same time, you knew that you had to play it cool, “Next time huh? Who said anything about a next time Mr. Pascal.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you are right and stop calling me Mr. Pascal. That’s my father,” he pouted again. “But umm…Y/N, do you think I can come in for a second and wash my hands. It beats having to go all the way home.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Oh yes because it’s such a long walk. Well follow me then Mr. Pascal” you winked at him before leading him up the driveway. “And I do apologize for all the boxes everywhere. Nursing school has been taking up the majority of my time and it’s been a little hard finding the energy to unpack.”

You didn’t realize it, but as he followed you, Pedro couldn’t help but stare at your ass. He didn’t mean to stare like a dirty old man, but he couldn’t help it. It would end up being one of his favorite things about you.

As you both made your way inside your house, you weren’t lying. Boxes littered the kitchen and living room. Thankfully Pedro didn’t seem to mind though as he made his way through the maze behind you. Taking turns at the sink, both of you scrubbed the grime off of your hands the best that you could.

However just as Pedro went to dry his hands, his large frame accidentally knocked over an open box that was full of VHS and DVDs. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he apologized as he quickly bent down and started to pick them up.

“It’s okay Pedro no worries. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m surprised that I haven’t done that myself already,” you really hoped that he didn’t feel bad. It was just an accident.

“You umm...you sure do have a lot of movies. You a bit of a movie buff?” He was amazed at the vast selection that you had. A lot of them were some of his favorites and some that he hadn’t seen in a while. Then a certain VHS tape caught his eye, “No way, you have this on VHS still? You don’t look old enough to know what a VHS is.”

“Ha ha very funny Pedro. I may be 24, but I sure do know what a VHS tape is. That’s all my grandmother watched when I was little. Gosh, I didn’t think that I still had that one. I used to watch that at least twice a week in high school. See I umm... I was bullied a lot in school and my parents were too busy at the time dealing with their own shit. After school in order to just get away from everything, I would put this movie on or any movie really and get lost for hours,” you couldn’t help but get teary eyed at the thought of how lonely those times were. Then you suddenly got embarrassed already crying in front of him, “I’m sorry Pedro, I didn’t mean to unload on you like that.”

“Hey it’s okay really, I don’t mind. I want to know more about you,” he then sympathetically reached out and took your hand into his. “Movies also hold a special place in my heart. Seeing the different actors portray different characters, emotions, and storylines, all that appealed to me and is part of what made me want to become an actor.” He then got an idea and really hoped that she didn’t mind if they switched things up, “So umm...Y/N, would you be opposed if we instead of going to get coffee, we put this baby on, if you have a VCR that is, and I can help you unpack. Seems like you could use the help more.”

“You know what that sounds like a wonderful idea. I still have my grandmother’s VCR and it’s still like brand new. And if you don’t mind, what if I order some pizza for some energy? I have a six pack of beer in the fridge as well if you drink. Otherwise, I have some water and juice.”

“Beer is perfectly fine by me Y/N and as for the pizza, since I’m the one who offered coffee and came up with the new plan, please let me buy it. It’s the least I can do. Think of it as a welcome to the neighborhood pizza.”

You nodded your head as you were too embarrassed to speak. You had never met someone so generous as Pedro. You could see the both of you becoming really good friends. It was like you instantly connected and were already comfortable with each other. “Alright fine, but remember Pedro, I get the next time. Now come on, everything is already set up in the living room.”

Once the movie was playing and the pizza was ordered. Both you and Pedro got to work unpacking the living room. You had made a lot of progress getting through a couple of boxes while making small talk. However as soon as the pizza came and you sat on the couch to eat, that’s where the packing stopped. Between the movie and swapping stories with Pedro, all of it consumed all your attention.

Before you knew it, it was well past midnight. After helping you clean up and taking some boxes out to the dumpster for you, Pedro bid you a good night. However, before he left, he promised to come over and help you finish the rest, so he gave you his number and told you to text him when it was convenient for you. Much to his surprise, you texted him the next day asking him if he wanted to come over for some breakfast. Before you even had time to crack an egg, he was at your doorstep with two cups of coffee in his hand.

From that point on, you and Pedro had become inseparable. You spent every moment that you could together. Whether it be at your house or his, you two became super close. Both of you knew you had feelings for each other but neither one of you was brave enough to admit it out loud. Then after a month apart since Pedro had to go out of town for work, he showed up at your door with a bouquet of flowers. There on your door step, he admitted his true feelings for you. How he felt so strongly for you and missed you every day that he was gone. That he couldn’t go another day without you being his. Before he could even finish expressing himself to you, you jumped into his arms and placed a deep kiss to his lips. You had never loved someone as much as you loved Pedro. It felt like you met your soulmate, and you weren’t going to let him go.

The last three years had gone by in a blink of an eye for you as it did move faster than any other relationship that you had been in, especially in the early stages. By the time your one month anniversary came, you two were already sleeping together and saying I love you to each other. Heck by the time your six month anniversary came, you were practically living with him. From the outside, your friends and family thought you two were crazy for how fast you were moving, but you two didn’t care. You were so in love that it just felt right to you.

That got you thinking though, maybe that’s why this fight had turned out to be so bad. In the entire time of your relationship, you hardly argued. If you did, then within a few minutes after it ended, you both would come running back to each other apologizing profusely. You couldn’t stand being mad at each other, so now what’s changed?  Were you getting fed up with each other? At one point you thought that you had the entire world, but now, you felt so unsure. It felt like everything was now up in the air. You hoped that this surprise trip to your injured boyfriend would be enough to salvage your relationship.

As the plane landed and the passengers began to deplane, you grabbed the only bag that you brought with you and followed the hoard of people. You then as quickly as you could headed straight for the exit where your ride was waiting for you. Thankfully it didn’t take long to find her. It was Pedro’s sister Lux, the one that called you about his accident.

“Y/N over here!” she called out to you. As soon as you got close enough to her, she ran straight into your arms, “Oh Y/N, it’s so good to see you! I’ve missed you! Thank you for coming so quickly. My brother is going to be so happy to see you. He had been a grump since he got here.”

“I really hope so Lux and it’s so good to see you too. How is he?”

“He’s hurting but thankfully it’s just his shoulder and nothing too serious. They released him from the hospital a few hours ago. He is at my father’s house sleeping,” she updated you as you walked to her car.

“So, what exactly happened? All you said was that he fell.”

Lux just shook her head in disbelief, “I still can’t believe it myself. We were talking in the kitchen and then the next thing we knew, we heard a big boom and Pedro was at the bottom of the stairs. He couldn’t tell us what happened, and he couldn’t move his arm.”

“And the doctor’s what did they say?” You really hoped that his injury wasn’t going to be too bad.

Being a nurse, you had seen your fair share of shoulder injuries and had seen the range that they could vary. What you were really concerned with those was Pedro’s mental health. You knew that he would be beating himself up as this injury may affect his professional work. He had a busy schedule in the upcoming year with award shows and production on varies projects starting. You were so happy to see him finally get the recognition that he deserved. You just wished that you could be there to celebrate with him.

“Well, they think he may need to have surgery,” she sighed. “He may want a second opinion though. He damn near almost choked the doctor when he heard them say that. I know seeing you is really going to brighten his day. I was really shocked when he showed up alone. I thought you were going to split the holidays again.”

For the first two years of your relationship, you and Pedro compromised and decided to spend Christmas with one family and then New Years, with the other. This year, it was Pedro’s family to host Christmas. “Umm...yeah well, I don’t know if Pedro told you or not, but we decided that it would be best if we took some time apart away from each other. We umm...we had a pretty bad fight.”

You trusted Lux in telling her what was going on. Over the years, you two had gotten super closer to each other. You had been an only child, so she was closest thing to a sister that you had. In fact, you had grown close to all his family.

“I didn’t know you two had a fight. All he said was that this year, something came up and you weren’t able to come this year. That’s so strange though. You two never fight. In fact, I have never seen either of you even raise your voice at each other. What was the fight about?”

Tears began to fill your eyes as you recalled that night....

Pedro finally finished up in the bathroom and came to join you in bed. However, as he got under the covers and tried to pull you over to him, he was surprised to have you pull away from him. “Hey what was that for? What’s going on mi vida.”

You said nothing. You just rolled over to your side facing away with tears starting to fill your eyes. “Mi vida, Y/N, what’s going on? You know that you can tell me anything.”

“You...you lied to me,” you said quietly that he could barely hear you.

“I... I’m sorry what?”

“I said that you lied to me Pedro!” you shouted and got out of bed. “You...are a liar Pedro Pascal and that is something that I thought I would never say.”

Pedro’s eyes grew wide. He had never seen an outburst like this from you before, “Whoa, what the actual fuck Y/N. What the hell are you talking about?”

He got out of bed and tried to get to you, but you didn’t let him “No, you just stay back,” you yelled. “I know about Friday night Pedro. Were you stupid enough to think that I wouldn’t find out? The paparazzi follow you everywhere for crying out loud. I saw the pictures of you!”

Pedro just huffed and shook his head, “Really Y/N, this is what it’s about. So, what, I went out Friday to have some drinks with old friends. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal? The deal is Pedro Pascal, that you lied to me about it! When I was leaving for work, you told me that you had no plans that night. Now I find that you did go out and that you were hugging up on some chick!”

“You...you’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned. “Please don’t tell me what I think you are inferring. Please tell me you don’t think that I’m cheating on you.”

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to think Pedro? Did you plan this? Did you plan on hiding this from me?” tears stung your eyes as you threw the phone at him.

Pedro managed to dodge the phone as it hit the wall behind him, “Jesus Y/N what the hell! I didn’t lie to you okay. I had every intension of staying home, but then one of my old costars called saying that they were having a get together. I figured that since you were working yet again, I would go. I also am not cheating on you. I fucking love you okay. Yes, I know there were rumors about me and her back in the day, but nothing ever happened. We were surrounded by our friends the entire time. We were never alone together!”

“Oh, so now this is my fault, because I had to work. Well, I’m sorry that the hospital is short staffed Pedro. Besides, weren’t you the one encouraging me to work overtime?”

“Yes, and that was when I was working!” Pedro shouted at you. “I told you that you should work some more when I am not home, so you wouldn’t have to think about us being apart like you usually do. I don’t get why after I have been gone for months filming, you all of a sudden want to work more hours now. I’ve hardly seen you in the past two weeks.”

You couldn’t believe how selfish Pedro was acting right now. “Are you serious Pedro? So, you mean to tell me that when you leave to go work in another country, I have no choice but to be here all alone in this big empty house, but when you come home, I am not allowed to work. I have to be here with you, so you don’t feel the same way that I do when you leave. So, you do not get bored. I know things were easier when I was in nursing school because I was able to be home and work on homework and stuff, but now that I’m that working, I can’t just drop it all as soon as you walk in the door. I work in an environment where people’s lives are at stake.”

“I know that Y/N and I’m not asking you to give it all up. I know how hard you work and how much you love your job. All I’m asking is just to have some uninterrupted time with you. No work, no commitment, nothing. Next year is going to be super busy and I want us to spend as much time as we can with each other,” he sighed.

“And if I do manage to stop working overtime Pedro, what are we going to do then? Stay home?” you asked. “Stay cramped up in this house, door dashing date meals. Ever since this whole “Internet Daddy” thing started, we don’t even go out anymore. You don’t let us go out together anymore.”

That was true. In the beginning of your relationship, you were able to sneak in dinner dates, coffee trips, and the occasional vacation without being noticed by the public. But now that Pedro’s popularity blew up, cameras constantly caught his every move. It was a miracle with social media being what it was, that no one had a clue that he was dating. He made sure that you always took the proper precautions if you needed to go out.

 “Yes, you are right, and I still stand by that decision Y/N. There is no way in hell am I putting you in the public eye. No, I will not do that to you. They will tear you apart. I have a lot on my plate already and I do not need to be constantly worrying about you. No, things are much simpler and safer if people don’t know about you,” he tried to convince you.

“But at what cost Pedro? You can’t keep us locked up in this house forever. It’s not healthy. Someone at some point is going to find out and then what? We deny that we know each other? Deny that we love each other? No, I refuse to do that. There are tons of actresses and actors that keep their wives and families out of the public eye yet can maintain a normal life. They aren’t afraid to go out and get seen. Why can’t we be like them? If you are worried that I can’t handle it, then I swear to you that I can. I can handle it Pedro,” you pleaded your case. You didn’t understand where this sudden fear of his was coming from. It wasn’t like him at all.

“Oh, like you handled seeing that picture?” he snapped back. “You really handle that like a champ.

You growled at the nerve of him trying to turn this around on you, “No, no Pedro, you do not get to do that. You do not get to use that on me. I don’t care that you went out. You can do as you please. What I am mad about is that I had to find out on the internet what my boyfriend has been up to. I would have never know that you went out if the pictures didn’t get released Pedro. I’m hurt that you didn’t even bring it up the next morning. I even asked how your night went and you said that it was fine. You always, even on set, tell me when you are going out. So why not this time? Was it because she was there? You two looked pretty cozy as you walked out of the restaurant with your arm around her waist!” you gave him a look that could kill.

“It was nothing Y/N! And I did not go there because she was going to be there. The reason why didn’t tell you was because I didn’t think that it was a big deal. I got the text at the last minute. I stayed for maybe an hour, two hours tops and that’s it. I came right back home and spent the rest of the night upstairs reading scripts and emails. The only reason why I walked her out and to her car, was because she was telling us about a stalker that she had. I just wanted to make sure that she got to her car safely. You know that I would have done that with anyone,” he just couldn’t understand how you couldn’t see that. Nothing else happened after that and it would never. Pedro loved you with all his heart and would never disrespect you or your relationship like that.

“The...the stalker thing, are...are you afraid that might happen to us? With me?” you asked shuddering at the thought of some stranger being completely obsessed with you.

Pedro’s face fell as the same thought came into his mind, “Yes in a way. People are crazy Y/N. you can never know what can happen. I’d rather keep you here safe, away from all of the craziness. Now can we please just forget about all this and go to bed. I don’t like fighting with you Y/N.” he tried to take a step closer to you and for a second, you let him.

However as soon as he got close enough to try to reach out for your hand and pulled you to him, you placed your hand on his chest to prevent you from being pulled closer, “I...I... I’m sorry Pedro, but I can’t. I just...I can’t get over how you are acting like this isn’t a big deal. I feel betrayed right now Pedro. I...I don’t think I can sweep this under the rug like that. I’m sorry.” You then walked over to the bed and grabbed your pillow and the quilt that was at the foot of the bed.

“Where...where do you think you are going?”

“I’m going to go sleep in the spare room Pedro. I...I just need time to think and calm down,” the pain and hurt that you were feeling was clear all over your face. You felt completely drained.

Pedro was right behind you hot on your heels as you made your way to the guest room, “So this is how we are going to start off the holidays Y/N. Everything up in the air now because of one picture that made you feel insecure....” As soon as that word left his lips, both of his hands flew to his mouth shutting himself up. He knew that he messed up. “Y/N, Y/N, mi vida, I’m sorry I didn’t mean...”

You didn’t care if you hit him with it, but you slammed the door right in his face. You couldn’t believe that he said that. You always thought of yourself as a strong woman, but for the first time, you felt so small, so little. Were you really being insecure? Were you really blowing this whole thing out of proportion, because of your sudden lack of self-esteem? You didn’t know, but you didn’t like what you feeling deep down inside you.

You both went to bed feeling angry and disappointed with how things played out. You both tossed and turned, plagued with nightmares and replaying the fight in your head. The next morning, you stayed locked away in the guest room. You were too scared and still annoyed with Pedro to face him. You only came out when you heard him leave. That gave you enough time to freshen up for the day, find your now cracked phone, and get something to eat. When you heard him come home, you rushed back to the guest bedroom and locked the door. You could hear him sigh on the other end of the door but couldn’t find it in your heart to open it.

“I stayed locked up in there for the rest of the day. When I finally did come out, we could hardly look at each other. I don’t know if it was anger, guilt or what, but we completely avoided each other. The next time we did speak, I told him a was going to my parents for Christmas and New Years and he said that was probably a good idea. We didn’t even see each other off the airport, we just left,” You sighed. “I... I don’t think we are going to make it Lux. Maybe we did rush into things like everyone said in the beginning. Maybe the honeymoon stage has finally come to an end, and we are as compatible as we thought.”

“No, no, do not say that Y/N. You two are meant for each other. I can see it in your eyes. Having one big fight doesn’t mean that it’s the end for you. Sometimes fights happen that you can’t avoid. Both of you had very valid points. Pedro should have been honest with you. I know for a fact that my big brother would never, ever, cheat on you. I just think he honestly didn’t see it as a big deal. I do agree that he should have mentioned something just in case you came home before he did or just to check in with you in case something happened, and you knew where he was. With that being said, he is an idiot for calling you insecure. I have half my mind to break his other shoulder. You are not insecure Y/N. You are entitled to your feelings, and he shouldn’t have invalidated them. You just have to look at things from his perspective. After the loss of well...you know, he has closed himself off in a way from every really truly loving someone. That was, until he met you Y/N. The past three years I have seen my brother grow so much. He truly, madly, deeply, loves you. I think part of him feels like if the stress of you two going public is too much for you, he may lose you in more ways than one. I don’t think he would survive that if that were to happen. I believe that you two can work this out Y/N. You just need to be completely honest with each other. We love you Y/N and we would really hate it if you and Pedro broke up. You just need to take things slow. I believe both of you will really grow from this.”

Thankfully at that point, you had pulled up to the Pascal family home. So as soon as the car was parked, you quickly undid your seatbelt and threw yourself into Lux’s arms, “Thank you Lux, for everything. I owe you more than you know. Your words mean so much. I promise you I will do my absolute best to work out things with Pedro. So much of what you said makes total sense. We both let things get out of control. We should have really listened to each other and saw where each other was coming from. I think we both invalidated each other. I hate to say it, but maybe him getting hurt is what may help us put everything into perspective and work things out.”

“See now that’s the spirit. You just gotta go into this positively and have an open mind. Now come on, let’s go see that boyfriend of yours,” Lux smiled brightly.

Walking into the Pascal Family home, it was still warm and welcoming like you remember. When Pedro first brought you there, you could remember how nervous and scared you felt, but as soon as his family welcomed you with open arms, you felt like you had been part of the family for years.

Following Lux to the kitchen, you smelled wonderful cooking on the stove. That’s when you saw Pedro’s father Jose come around the corner, “Oh Y/N, you made it! So glad that you could make it. I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances, but I’m glad you are here.”

“Yes, I came quickly as soon as I could Mr. Pascal. There is no other place that I’d rather be. I am so thankful that Lux called me,” you said giving the older man a big hug.

“Well, I’m sure that son of mine will be very happy to see you. Lord knows that he could use the company. And please for the thousandth time, call me Jose,” he chuckled.

“You got it Jose. So how is he holding up?”

Jose frowned as he thought back at what happened, “He is okay for now. Poor guy gave us all a scare. I feel so horrible. He is upstairs sleeping now. Why don’t you go to him? It’s the first door on the right.”

Nerves suddenly overtook you as you nodded and headed towards the stares. You couldn’t help but have visions of Pedro lying at the bottom of them. Guilt then consumed you as you knew that you should have been here. Like he said, it was so dumb to pick a fight right before the holidays. You should have just calmly asked about the picture and the other stuff, well the other stuff should have waited.

Quietly opening the door, your heart broke as you saw the love of your life sound asleep. His poor arm being held closely to him by a sling. Walking over to the bed, you gently pulled the covers back, took off your shoes, and got in next to him. You carefully tucked yourself into the side of his good arm. His breathing was slow, and you could hear his heart beat under your ear as you rested your head on his chest.

Pedro must have sensed the pressure on his chest, because you felt him take a deep breath and let out a groan. Lifting your head, you saw those big brown eyes staring down at you. “Y/N...is...is that you?” he said hoarsely.

“Yes baby, it’s me,” you smiled and cupped his bearded cheek. “Lux called me and said that you took a spill. I took the first flight that I could get out here. You had me so worried.”

“I told no one to call you. I knew flights were going to be hard to come by. I wanted to call you myself when I was feeling better,” he pouted.

That damn pouty look of his was so adorable. You couldn’t help but lean up and place a small kiss on his lips. “Don’t be mad baby. I’m happy that someone called. Now you have your own personal nurse to help get you back to help.”

His pout turned in to a big smile as he got an idea, “Oh yeah huh? Do you think Santa will bring a naughty nurses outfit?”

“If you play your cards right mister, I think I can make something happen,” you then captured his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a little nibble.

When you pulled back, Pedro ran his hand through your hair and sighed, “I...I... I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry for everything. I apologize for not telling you about going out and I am so fucking sorry for calling you insecure. That was my anger talking, not the real me.” When you went to open your mouth, he gently placed a finger to your lips, “Please mi vida, just let me finish. I need to get all of this off my chest. I never meant for you to find out about the get together from the internet. I had every intention of telling you, but I forgot. Between packing, the holidays, and everything that I have to do next month, it really did slip my mind. I know I should have for peace of mind, should have sent a text letting you know what’s going on. I know that if I saw you in that position, I would have lost my shit too. I swear to Y/N nothing else happened that night. Me and her didn’t even speak that much. She was completely on the opposite of the table. I only really talked to her when she told us about the stalker and as soon as I walked her to the car, I came straight home. I love you with all my heart Y/N. I would never cheat on you. I would never jeopardize our future like that. And you are not insecure. That was an asshole thing to say, and I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you. You are the strongest woman that I know. You are the backbone of our relationship and the reason I keep going every day.”

“I love you too Pedro and thank you for apologizing. I need to apologize to you too,” you smiled through tear-soaked lashes. “And I’m sorry for not seeing your side or reason. I was filled with so much anger and feeling betrayed that I just had tunnel vision. My mind was only seeing things one way. I just that all I could see was how happy you too looked together and a big part of me wishes that it was me with you. I couldn’t help but feel like you are ashamed of being seen with me.  I wished so badly that I was the one that you were parading around happily and the one that was making you smile that way. I know you are trying to protect me, Pedro. And I know that you have this fear of something really bad happening to me. As much as I still think we can and will be okay if we do make our relationship public, we can handle it. We would have each other to lean on. However, if you want to keep things quiet and keep things the way that they are, I am willing to do that. I know how important my safety and well-being are to you Pedro. Hell, we have been doing a pretty good job staying quiet the last three years, so why change it.”

Pedro reached out with his good arm and wiped the tears from your puffy face, “As much as I appreciate you doing that for me, mi vida, I had a lot of time to think things over and I realized that you are completely right. I have been being selfish and unfair to you. I have been putting my job and fears ahead of you and that’s not right. You have never asked me for a thing and the first time that you asked me to do something for you, I completely shut you down. It’s not that I’m ashamed to be seen with you Y/N. Like I said, it’s all been my fears controlling my every move with you, especially now. It was my fears that kept me from almost introducing myself to you and now that I have you, it’s my fears that are making me extremely overprotective of you. I’m just really scared that my fans or the media will come after you before they even have a chance to know you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. You do not deserve that. I just can’t shake this feeling that all the stress and negativity will become too much for you and something will happen. I can’t let that happen Y/N and I refuse to let that happen. I would never forgive myself for that. I can’t lose you Y/N.”

Now it was your turn to be the strong one and comfort him. You held his hand tightly, while running your other through his soft curls, “Pedro Pascal, love of my life, my future baby daddy, thank you for being honest with me. That’s all I wanted. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. You don’t know how thankful that I am that I found someone like you. You are the greatest lover, friend, and protector that I have ever had. Not a day goes by where I don’t feel safe where it’s in your arms or by the sound of your voice when you are away. That’s why I am not afraid to be seen in public with you. I know that no matter what may happen, good or bad, you will be right there with me to help guide me. I honestly think that it won’t be that bad. Sure, it may be chaotic in the beginning but at the same time, it may not. Your fans love you Pedro and while they might be a little sad that you are seeing someone, I’m sure that they will be happy for you. Apart of me just keeps thinking of what happens if we do slip up and get seen together. Don’t you think that it would be best if we get ahead of this ourselves versus having someone else do it and spread lies. Do this on our own terms?”

“But…but…would you really be okay with this though Y/N? I really need you to think. You would be giving up your privacy. These days people are going to find everything about you that they can on the internet. Are you ready to see every move we make, documented by social media? I need to know that you aren’t going to run or shut down at the first sign of trouble. I need to know that how you reacted to the picture won’t happen again.” If you both agreed to this, he knew that this was going to be the ultimate test to your relationship.

“Pedro, I promise you on everything that I am not going to run. I have thought this through, and this is what I want. I really don’t care what people say. All that matters to me is your opinion and your opinion only Pedro. I will be the only one who knows the real you and you are the only one who will know the real me. I really want to take this next step with you Pedro. I want to be that proud girlfriend and hopefully wife who gets to brag about how amazingly talented their partner is. I want to be the first hug and kiss when you win an award. I want to show everyone how I’m the lucky one to have you in my life. If you still aren’t sure about this Pedro, then like I said, I’m happy to keep things the way that they are. But what do you say baby, will you take this leap of faith with me?”

Fighting back his own tears, Pedro nodded his head. Still to this day, even three years         later you still found a way to floor him, and he knew that you would continue to. You were so fucking incredible, and he got to call you his. He was still in disbelief that you gave him a shot. The thing that he loved about you and should have trusted in the beginning was how even after a fight, you found a way to be levelheaded and work things out. He never felt lost when you were with him. And even though you called to him to help guide you through the crazy waters that is the celebrity life, it was you that helped guide him though every life.

Every day you brought out the best in him. You gave him the inspiration to be the best man that he could be. Everything that he did, he did for you. He did everything that he could to make you proud. He tried to be that someone that you could proudly show off as the love of your life. He couldn’t believe that he had the potential to be your husband and father of your kids. Two things he didn’t think were ever going to be possible till he met you. You were everything that he could ever want, and you were everything that he could ever need. You were the one that he would take this leap with.

“I Pedro Pascal, would love nothing more than Y/N. You are right, no matter what happens, we will be in this together. You are remarkable Y/N and I think it’s time the world gets to know the woman that has captured by heart. Just at any point, please if things get too much, you need to tell me Y/N. All you have to do is say the word and I will do my best to shut it down. Can you promise me that Y/N? I’ll promise to be more open and understanding with you, if you promise to be open with me. This is the only way that it will work.”

“Yes Pedro, I promise you. We will get through this baby. I know we can,” you then carefully wrapped your arm around his good side and buried yourself into that strong neck of his. “I love you, Pedro Pascal. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Y/N, mi vida, with all my heart. And I make another promise to you here, right now. I will marry you Y/N and we will have as many kids as you want. Just say the word and I will get down on my knees. You deserve the world Y/N and I want to give it to you,” he muttered into your hair before placing a kiss on your head.

You pulled back slightly enough to rest your head on his, “I do have the world, Pedro. I have everything that I want and need right here.” You then leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.

Both of you moaned as soon as your lips met. These past few days that you were apart were brutal. Going days without speaking, cuddling, or kissing, was something that you never wanted to experience again. It wasn’t like when he was on set, and you couldn’t see him. No, this was way worse and both of you hated it.

Pedro couldn’t help but bring his hand up and run it down your side till he reached your backside. Giving it a rough squeeze, causing you to moan into his opened mouth, he pulled you close and deepened the kiss. But as he slipped his tongue in, he moved just enough to send a shot of pain running through his body, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Shit baby, are you okay?” you gasped and pulled away quickly.

He groaned, gritting his teeth and hunching over. “Just…just give me a minute.”

Never leaving his side, you sat there next to him making sure that you rubbed his back and peppered kisses on his good shoulder until the pain started to subside. “Just breathe baby, just breathe it out. I’m here, I’m here,” you whispered to him, running your hand through his sweaty hair.

“Th…thank you mi vida. Forgot that I can’t really move like it want to,” he sighed. “The umm…the doctors said that I fractured my shoulder. I may need to have surgery. I am such an idiot.”

“Hey, look at me,” you said sternly and lifted his chin to look at you. “You are not an idiot. Accidents happen Pedro. Do you remember what happened?”

“I…I just fell. I must have tripped and lost my footing. Next thing I know I’m at the bottom of the stair and everyone is running to me. My dad and sister took me straight to the ER. I can’t believe that I scared the shit out of everyone.” He could still see the petrified look on everyone’s faces, including his nephews.

You shook your head disappointedly, but you had warned him countless times to slow down when it came to stairs especially at your own house. “Jesus Pedro, you are so lucky that you didn’t break your neck. Have you called your doctor back home? Lux said something about a second opinion.”

“No, I haven’t called anyone yet. I just want to sleep and do all of that tomorrow,” he sighed leaning back into his propped-up pillows.

Your heart broke at seeing how much pain he was in. For being such a big man, at that moment, he looked so small. If you had the ability to take his pain away, you would. Instead, you were going to help him anyway that you could and nurse him back to health. “You sleep then baby. I’ll go downstairs and start getting everything sorted out. Do you need me to get you anything?”

Pedro nodded and looked up at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes, “Stay with me, mi vida. I know that plane ride wasn’t the most comfortable thing. You look exhausted. Take a nap with me?”

“Of course, baby, you don’t even have to ask twice. Let me just get out of these jeans first,” you told him as you stood up to strip them off and your sweater.

“That’s so not fair, mi vida. You just can’t get naked in front of me like that while I’m laid up here,” he pouted.

Rolling your eyes as you got back into bed, you couldn’t help but softly slap his chest, “I’m not naked and if even if I were and you weren’t hurt, we wouldn’t be doing anything in your father’s house naughty boy. No sex for a while I’m afraid. Last thing we need is for you to get more hurt because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

“That’s a chance I am willing to take mi vida,” he laughed and wrapped his arm around you as you cuddled into him. “I love you Y/N and thank you for coming to take care of your old man.”

“No need to thank me baby. There is no other place that I would rather be. Let’s just promise not to fight anymore, okay. And absolutely no more falling downstairs.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

graveyard heart

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller (Hades) x F!Reader

summary: your mom, a FEDRA officer, warned you about the darkness lurking - it arrives as the underworld smuggling king and he is indeed dangerous (but oh so terrifyingly beautiful)

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes || dead dove: do not eat. loose retelling of the Hades & Persephone myth, canon divergent, kidnapping, hostage situation, enemies to lovers, age gap (reader’s age not mentioned but is a drinking adult & was a child on outbreak day), dubcon - power dynamics & possible stockholm syndrome, morally gray!Joel, controlling/complicated parental relationship, brief scenes of assault (not from Joel), canon typical violence (gun usage, blood, fights with infected, awful raiders and fireflies), discussion of grief/character deaths, angst with sexual tension, masturbation (f&m), smutty thoughts, finger sucking, cum eating, poetic allusions to smut, light spit kink, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel

word count: 11.6k (i’m sorry)

a/n: HI PLEASE READ & BE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS. This is my first stab at darker content for the fandom & I’m a bit nervous, i kindly ask that if this isn’t for you pls just keep scrolling - so i blame my 2014 8tracks hades & persephone playlist for this but here are are lol! this is my piece for @beskarandblasters the pedro pantheon challenge! also the biggest thank you to @pr0ximamidnight & @ahauntedcowboy for being the absolute angels & letting me scream about this lol, now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

(i)

You rarely go outside after curfew, much less to a gathering hosted by smugglers.

Boston had one of the most prolific and stubborn smuggling systems across all the quarantine zones, or so from what you’ve heard. Your mother and the other FEDRA officers had mentioned many times how, once the fireflies were extinguished, the smugglers were the next to go.

Especially the man in charge of the entire network.

Known as the most prolific and notorious smuggler, no FEDRA officer has even seen him.

The ruler of the smugglers, the king of the underworld.

Now, you’re here at a secret warehouse gathering apparently hosted by the illusive man.

It’s rather impressive. Outside is a large warehouse, decayed and ancient. Inside, the old office spaces were gutted out to create a new building. Commotion radiates from it.

The underground world was painted to be something out of a terrifying horror story. The parties had been urban legends whispered around the QZ. Your oldest friend had urged you to finally sneak away to one.

“This will be your fun night out to celebrate your new big adult job!” She had argued. “And besides, you need to live a little. Don’t worry about your mom, just enjoy having fun for once!”

Your mom. If she knew you were here she’d pop a blood vessel or worse.

But your friend is right. You want to experience more, don’t want to feel stuck under your mom’s watch forever.

Panic still crawls over you though, like at any minute your mother might walk in and scream your name catching you.

“Y’okay there?”

You didn’t realize you’d be dazed out for so long until a voice draws you out of your thoughts.

The accent is so strikingly thick, a drawl you don’t hear often. The man standing by the mixture of the homebrewed moonshine takes your breath away.

Ruggedly handsome, with a beautiful striking nose, older and wearing the lines of age gracefully with his gray hair, he seems brewed of something fierce and wildly beautiful.

You almost feel too stunned to talk, but manage to blurt out an apology.

“Yeah I’m good, just never seen a party like this.” You admit.

The man hums a bored sort of noise before he nudges towards the table.

“Want anything?” He offers, and nodding you tell him to surprise you.

Even with a scruffy glare on his face, the man’s eyebrows raise ever slightly, surprised.

The drink he hands you is harsh, stings your nose, isn’t anything like the liquor you’ve drank with your mom. You even cough at its harsh taste.

“Don’t tell me you never drank before.” The mystery man’s voice sounds offended.

“I’ve drank before.” You fire back. “Just never anything like this.”

The man’s dark rust colored eyes survey you, actually scan you up and down, making your skin tighten, feeling strangely judged and exposed.

He takes a sip of his own drink, yet his gaze continues watching you.

“So ya lost? Is that how you ended up here?” His words are simple, cold, and a frown tugs at your lips.

“My friend was invited, decided to tag along.” Your reply is blunt

“Your friend,” he nods. “And they’re where?”

Notorious for being a roamer, even when you were younger, you’re not surprised your friend wandered away for a moment.

“Guess just went to enjoy the rest of the party.”

“It ain’t a party.” The man says deep.

“There’s alcohol, people enjoying half ass drinking games, this looks like a party.” You shrug surprisingly braver. Guess the home brewed alcohol did that.

This mystery man’s face scrunches up, like he’s annoyed with you. He simply just takes another sip of his drink.

Apologizing low, you also thank him again for the drink and decide to exit. The man doesn’t stop you. Now you go looking for your friend peeking around the party. No sign of her.

Slightly worried, you check outside.

What you discover petrifies you on sight. Your best friend tries to leave from the shadow of the guy she’s talking to. Before she can leave, his hands grab her arms, a dark prison refusing to let her go. With full force he slams her against the wall. A small scream escapes her, and fear drowns her eyes while the guy grins demonically.

You rush over fast. All you have is the drink on hand, but once you’re close enough you slam the hard plastic right against the man’s face.

He screams in pain at the sudden attack.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” You scream not caring you’re being loud. You scurry to grab your friend quickly.

“You little fucking cunt!” The attacker roars and turns to you. Wild blood streams down his nose.

He swings his fist, and you try to escape the path of impact. But it still lands a solid hard hit against the side of your head. A scream comes from your friend and everything stings. You try remembering the self defense training your mom tried drilling into you.

Until a hard impact cracks in the air.

You blink into focus. Your assailant is now on the ground.

And the grumpy mystery man you met stands above with a bloody knuckle.

He’s the one who punched the guy.

“What the fuck man?! Fucking bitch hit me first!” The bastard on the floor screams.

“Get the fuck outta here. Or else.” The mystery man barks.

The guy on the floor’s eyes go wide, like he’s finally taking in the man above. Even in the dark, you witness terror rise fast across the guy’s face.

In a possessed panic, the assailant snaps up and simply leaves.

Your head throbs where the hit landed, yet your eyes stay stuck on the man who came to rescue you.

A soft voice suddenly eases in, and you’re met with a striking older woman.

“Come on, let’s get you both back inside.” Her name is Tess, and she holds a sharp grace to her as she guides everyone to the makeshift kitchen.

You want to help your best friend clean up, but Tess orders you to sit down and reassures she’ll take care of your friend in one of the bathrooms.

“You need to sit and get your head checked out.” Your friend tells you, worried.

Before you can even move to follow her and Tess, your scruffy savior waltzes in.

“Sit down.” He barks at you and moves to grab a cooled bottle to hold against your head.

You hiss when the cold glass touches your head.

“You smashed the shit outta that drink into that fucker’s nose.” The man begins with a gruff mutter. “Got a lot more fight in ya than y’look.”

You snort.

“I just acted fast that’s all…” you mumble back.

Turning to the man, you earnestly thank him. However, his deep eyes, almost the color of ancient rust, already stare at you. His gaze is intense, sharply piercing.

“So why do you guys even throw parties? Does your boss know it doesn’t seem safe.” You comment.

“Mainly to show off the products we got.” The man explains gruffly.

Made sense.

“Wait, is your hand okay?” You suddenly blurt out remembering the blood staining his knuckles.

“M’fine.” He answers and moves his hand away before you can try examining it.

Footsteps walk into the room, and Tess returns. Her eyes gleam soft.

“Your friend’s doing good, actually making jokes and everything.”

Relief floods in.

This may be the sign to head home. It would take a lot to sneak back to your best friends’ apartment, especially this late.

“Headin’ out?” The man asks when you return from checking in on your friend.

You nod weakly.

“Don’t. It’s late. Plus we got space in the back you two can crash in.” Tess reassures, and you graciously thank her.

“Don’t thank me, Joel was the one who offered.” She grins nudging the man.

Joel, his name - it’s beautiful.

Joel glares terrifyingly hard at her. Tess simply shrugs.

So you thank Joel, even use his name. This serious but stunning man doesn’t say anything and instead walks towards the other door.

“Come on.” He suddenly commands. You and your friend rapidly follow him.

Just as promised there are rooms safely tucked away. Though room is a gracious term with the stacks of various boxes and rusty cluttered furniture, but you won’t complain.

Joel says nothing, simply shows you the room then leaves.

“He’s weird as fuck.” Your friend whispers. You had to agree.

Even in this back room space the hum of the party continues to leak in. The lights from the hallway become a sliver under the door.

Soon enough boots thump outside the door, and your eyes creak open. From the light under the door a shadow moves. You’re worried for a moment until a darker shadow goes to rest against the door.

More footsteps, lighter ones, come.

“Gonna sit there all night? You’ll get a creak in your fucking neck.” Tess.

“Just get back to the party.” Joel.

His voice rumbles back, and you feel wide awake now.

He’a staying in front of the door, keeping watch.

You don’t know this man, just met him tonight. But you’re comforted knowing he’s here. Safety is hard to find in this world. Yet soft residuals of it seem to reside buried within Joel.

When you wake up however, he’s gone nowhere to be found.

On the walk home, your best friend is thankfully upbeat.

“You know,” she comments. “I’m actually kinda a little bummed we didn’t get to meet the scary head smuggler guy.”

You laugh, a dark humored type thing.

“Yeah me too, but after last night I’m kind of glad.” You agree.

You might not have met the infamous smuggler kingpin, but meeting Joel felt precious in its own strange way.

(ii)

You run into Joel again - literally bump into him.

Trying to put all the papers and books into your bag, you step outside the school and collide into a hard body. But instead of stumbling and falling back, firm hands steady you. All your items still drop.

Something fierce constricts your throat when you focus on who you ran into.

Joel, a very grouchy Joel.

You immediately ramble out a mess of apologies while you try picking up everything. Joel silently crouches down to help gather your fallen items.

“You’re a teacher.” He notes with a gruff low rumble.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just started this week…Someone’s gotta teach the kids what the water cycle is.” You joke.

He snorts very faintly, and your heart jumps.

The handsome man has been in your mind ever since the party. Now he’s materialized here.

Your mom calls your name walking out of the building.

In her commander FEDRA officer uniform, you hate more than ever that she’s wearing it.

“Who’s this?!” Her eyes immediately flicker suspiciously to Joel as she smiles politely.

“Someone I just ran into that’s all.” You quickly answer.

Rapidly you turn back to Joel and politely thank him again for helping pick up your scattered papers.

Joel statically nods. But you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at your mom before he leaves.

Your mother doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, not bothered by a stranger. A very FEDRA Trait.

When your first late night working at the school comes, that has your mom worried.

“I can call in and walk you home once you’re done.” She urges.

You’re an adult. You’ve faced scarier things. After much persistence, thankfully your mother begrudgingly relents.

The sky looks beautiful when you step out of the building. You can’t see the stars often from here but still feel comforted seeing a few twinkles above.

“Keep staring off like that and you’re gonna bump into someone again.”

The familiar gruff voice jolts your heart into overdrive. When your focus whips back to earth, Joel stands a few steps away.

“Fancy running into you again.” You beam, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of him.

Joel shrugs. “My way back from work came this way again.”

“Mind some company?” He nudges his chin towards you and you quickly, embarrassingly fast, you welcome him to join you.

Joel falls into step besides you.

You ask about how his day went, and he shrugs simply saying it’s been fine.

“So, your mom’s a FEDRA officer.” He suddenly comments.

You had a feeling he’d mention it. You almost want to make a joke that she just stole the uniform. But it’s hard with how Joel’s gaze seems to simply pierce through whatever he sets his eyes onto.

“I promise,” you blurt. “I haven’t told her about the party or anything.”

Joel nods, silent again.

Abruptly he stops walking. You do as well. The soft evening lights color the streets a dingy muted gray. The curfew call would arrive soon. There’s already barely anyone on the street.

He sighs turning to you. That sword's sharp piercing gazes of his makes you worried.

“This is my stop here.” He nudges to the apartment complex across the street. “But can walk ya home, if you want.”

You exhale relieved, even find fondness sneaks in.

“Oh no, it’s okay, it’s late anyway.” You earnestly thank him.

Suddenly a hand swings across your face out from behind. A cloth covers your mouth. Before you can even scream your eyes flicker heavy.

Joel is the last blurred sight you see before darkness overcomes you.

Groggily opening your eyes, you’re now in a barren basement type room lying on a mattress on the floor. Immediately you spot Tess. Then you notice a man with a large rifle standing by the door.

“What the fuck happened?!” You scream.

“Hey, relax.” Tess says eased. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?! What the fuck do you do to me?! Why am I here?!”

Before she can answer you, Joel waltzes into the room. The room shadows paint him a terrifying creature who stares at you hard.

“Look,” Joel’s voice is cold, unwavering steel. “I’m gonna be straight with ya. We ain’t doing shit to you. Just need your mom to make FEDRA give us what we want.”

Your eyes go wide.

You’re being held as a hostage.

Before anything else can be said, another man steps in.

“Sorry boss, but we’re getting word there’s chatter on the coms.” The man explains to Joel.

He nods then glances over to you from his shoulder.

“Y’don’t do anything fucking stupid and we might all make it out of this alright.” That’s all Joel says then exits.

The man with the gun nods to him almost as a sign of respect.

Even though so many thoughts buzz around in your head like angry wasps, it clicks fast.

It’s Joel.

Joel is the infamous underworld smuggling king.

(iii)

The rest of the day is a blur. You’re left alone and cry into your hands until it hurts. The man with the gun standing guard outside your door doesn’t seem to care. Tess at one point returns with cleaner clothes, even offers you a shower and a meal, but you stay silent.

Some of the smugglers pop their head into your room, curious about the new hostage.

“Aw, you’re too pretty to cry.” One of them grins.

“Yeah there’s someone else I could give ya to cry about.” Another snickers disgustingly, and you want to crawl into yourself.

Joel barks a hard loud yell.

“Any of you fuckers so much as even looks in there again or even dares touch her, you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with me, understand?!” Joel commands, a god among chaos.

It’s not entirely comforting, but it’s enough.

Not a soul walks by your room after that.

Later that night Joel comes with rations and more water.

“Y’need to eat something.” He suggests. You don’t even move to touch the food.

Joel sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m doing this to find my brother, simple as that. Need FEDRA to give us a good car or even a battery at best to get us on the road.” Joel explains sharply, methodically.

All of this for his brother. The love of a family member in exchange for the love of another. You understand, even can sympathize, but you hated this still, hated him.

With thorny malice, you glare hard at Joel staying silent.

He frowns harder, and it highlights his wrinkles. Joel doesn’t say anything, simply clenches his jaw and leaves the room.

In the room’s solitude, you try formulating a plan. If you just get a gun you can maybe make your way out of this place.

Whatever this place is, it’s the central base. It’s hard not to listen to all the commotion and talk done in the other room. The smuggling empire is terrifyingly impressive. From what you’ve caught there’s multiple routes and tunnels that operate for different means. Some smuggle in necessities like food or medicine, while others provide arms.

Joel orders and strategizes it all. Tess is just as in charge and orders commands as well.

“You should eat.” Suddenly the guard on the other side of your open door suggests.

You’re almost tempted to throw the rations out the door.

A sudden explosion cracks above and the ground rattles. The air stills, and everything shifts.

“Fireflies!” Someone screams.

This is your chance. In the rush of the commotion and the echo of gunshots, you hope to escape.

You’re left alone.

This is it. Adrenaline pumps through you fast as you frantically search for an exit, a gun, anything. But the chaos swirls fast. More yelling arrives underground, and gunshots fire off closer.

But your legs start buckling, and your eyes start getting foggy too. Fear comes fast. Did they maybe drug you?

No. You just realize…you haven’t eaten this entire day.

Now it’s getting hard to walk.

Stumbling, barely keeping focus, you lean against the wall. Your body feels like it’s going to crumble.

“Oh, look what we have here.” Someone coos. A shadow soon falls over you. “Fuck didn’t know the smugglers had someone this cute.”

This can’t be happening.

Your lips tremble while fighting back tears, can’t even focus on who’s around you.

“Maybe we can keep her as a nice treat.” Another voice laughs, and your stomach feels sick.

A gunshot rings into the hallway. A body collides so hard and fast on the floor it makes your vision focus. Crimson spills onto the concrete. When you snap your focus aware another firefly man screams in anger until Joel takes him down with ease.

Disrobed relief spills into you. Joel’s here.

In this fucked up moment you’re about to cry grateful because he’s here.

But your vision blurs more, and your body feels light.

Then your world again goes dark.

Sunlight this time wakes you up.

Panic causes you to bolt up fast, but the dizziness hits you. Hissing, you steady yourself.

“Don’t get up too fast.” Joel’s dull voice speaks from the abyss.

You’re in a small apartment now, or the decaying barebones of one. In one small room is the kitchen and a living room. You rest on the couch while Joel sits at the table.

“What happened?” You ask with a croak.

Joel nudges to the small dusty coffee table where water and rations sit waiting for you.

This time you don’t hesitate to snag them.

Joel explains all that happened. The fireflies attacked the tunnels for supplies, and it spilled into the base.

“Used the underground tunnels to make it outside the QZ. Then, came here to a safe house.” He finishes.

“Where’s Tess?” You ask.

“Stayed back. Need someone to communicate to me how the deal’s going.” You suddenly notice the radio sitting on the countertop.

“So it’s just you and me.” You mutter.

“Un-fuckin’ fortunately.” Joel replies with a hard scowl.

Your mind tries to settle now.

You’re in a home in the middle of fuck knows where. Your hope of maybe escaping is not as bright as it was in the underground compound. So you steadily resolve yourself to accept this situation. Your mother will come. She will find a way to make the deal and you’ll be back home.

When you finally glance out the window you discover you’re on the outskirts of the QZ.

Infected roam here.

“Shouldn’t we head back into the QZ?” You ask worried.

“And have you turnin’ my fuckin’ ass in? No way in hell.” Joel glares at you.

“Infected are out here.” You snap fierce.

“And you got me. Won’t need to worry ‘bout ‘em.” He says simply.

It isn’t that reassuring, but you think of how he’s proven himself already to be rather sturdy even for his age.

“So are we just gonna wait until we hear something?”

“Yeah.” Joel answers with a deadly deadpan that refuses to leave room up for any discussion.

The space stays in a tense thickness until the radio flickers to life scaring the shit out of you.

Tess over the radio gives an update. Still no word from FEDRA. Instead she goes into discussing work with Joel.

They talk in code, use numbers and different colors to describe things. But at one point they let the code slip. You piece it together easily. They work with FEDRA officers to get certain supplies. You knew FEDRA wasn’t squeaky clean, even argued about it with your mom. But this just solidifies the murkiness of it all.

None of them have a car or battery to give.

Joel ends up falling asleep in the chair at the tabled hands crossed over his chest. You now snoop around the place quietly. There’s an extra backpack for you as well as various contraband items still waiting to be delivered.

You silently steal one of the liquor bottles and place it stealthily in your bag.

You also unpack what’s in the bag.

The change of clothes Tess had first offered you, a few rations, a flashlight. No weapon though. You do spot flint, and that’s slightly reassuring.

The sun starts to dwindle. You need to rest. It’s obvious you’re not going anywhere for a while. So returning to the couch you close your eyes.

Then the howl of a clicker wakes you.

Instinctual primordial terror has your eyes snapping open wide in fear. Before you can move, you discover Joel beside you. Even in the dark you see a finger raised up to his lips.

Keep quiet.

You nod, sealing your lips tight.

The ominous clicking noise rattle outside the hall. You almost miss it with how loudly your heart hammers in your ears. The infected’s chatter sounds fainter as it wanders down the hallway.

You exhale through your nose, hopeful this means the infected is close to maybe leaving.

Until the radio flickers to life blaring a tune.

Horror collides into you fast. The clicker roars. Joel acts immediately raising his gun to shoot the radio silent. But it’s too late. The infected screeches, rushing down the hallway with violent steps until it rams into the door with full force. You hold back a scream.

Joel fires at the door, and a loud thud follows.

“Come on!” he snaps, scrambling to get up.

More would come. You slide the backpack on, and instantly follow Joel in a frantic rush.

Heart racing, you stay close to Joel while the two of you rush to escape out of the apartment complex. Screeches of more infected approach.

The night is dark, but Joel is surprisingly keen in maneuvering the area. He leads you into another ransacked building and holds his hand up, a silent sign to stop.

You’d be stopping here. You’re glad. All of your body feels weak. You haven’t seen a clicker up close in years. Now fear eats away at the adrenaline.

“We’ll stay here until daybreak.” Joel speaks barely above a whisper. “Get rest while ya can.”

You’re afraid to sleep now. Don’t even want to think about it.

Suddenly he says your name.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it.

He stares somberly, seriously at you. Joel must have seen whatever fear ran across your face. You fully take in the sight of him. Standing tall, his strong rifle in hand, he’s the image of unwavering determination.

“Sleep, I’ll be up.” He orders.

The distrust you hold for his man slowly is ebbing away. You know he’s simply keeping you alive for the bargain, but it’s enough for now. So you sit on the ground, try to just close your eyes and gather yourself together.

Sunlight again wakes you, and Joel continues standing watch.

He glances back to you, and with his stoic stome nature, he nods.

Time to move.

The journey through the debris and fallen memories of Boston is quiet, tense. Joel stays closer to you the entire way.

“Have another safe house just outside the edges of the city limit. We’ll be safe there.” He mutters low and you nod.

The smuggler king leads confidently. Even though you’re still petrified of infected, you take in the sights of the city. The intricate green vines, the lush landscape among the bones of civilization, it’s all a haunting sight, but you also think of how beautiful it is.

“Y’ever been outside the QZ?” Joel suddenly speaks low.

“Once,” you tell him truthfully. You had been a child then and you barely remember the journey.

“So you’ve been in Boston this entire time?” Joel asks now, sounding curious.

You have. It’s why your mom has such a high ranking within FEDRA.

“Your accent…where are you originally from?” You decide to ask questions now too, keeping the same low tone as Joel.

A part of you assumes he won’t answer or will just respond sarcastically.

“Texas.”

You’re surprised he answered.

“You're a long way from home then.”

He hums a noise that sounds like he agrees.

“Must have been a journey to get you all the way to Boston.” You note, now more curious about him.

Joel stays quiet for a moment, then replies with the lowest ‘yeah’ effectively ending the conversation.

Soon the buildings fade away. The forest creeps in denser as the suburbs approach.

At the edge of the neighborhoods, a home sits splintered off inching into the woods. It seems like the perfect secluded safe house base.

The place hasn’t been touched in a while. Leaves scatter across the title floor, and dust covers so much. You’re thankful this has more space than the small apartment. Joel immediately slings his backpack off then opens a door leading down to a basement. You follow him.

“Don’t fuckin’ follow me.” He snips, yet you stay behind him. He doesn’t stop you.

Instead Joel flickers on many camping lanterns and illuminates the basement. The stockpile here is barren, hardly any weapons or canned goods. Of course a radio sits on the table. Joel flickers to life, but no one answers when he sends his Morse code clicks. His face grows dark with worry.

“Please get me if you hear anything from my mom.” You finally say quietly.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees somber.

It’s enough for now.

Two days pass. No sounds come from the radio. You and Joel walk around each other on egg shells and rarely speak. It’s suffocating. So you rummage around the house to find something to do, anything.

You find a deck of cards and it feels like a gift from above.

Quietly in the living room, you set up a lone game of solitaire on the coffee table. Or patience, as your mom loved to call it when she taught you how to play. Seems perfect to play now. You flip through the cards, placing them at the correct spots and columns.

“Solitaire?” Joel’s voice surprises you. But what shocks you even more is him moving to sit on the floor.

“You play?” You question.

“Not in a while, play other card games like poker or black jack.”

“I play blackjack.” You perk up, and Joel’s eyebrows rise slightly shocked.

You hand him the deck, cleaning up the rest of the cards and start a new game with him.

The game is tense at first, like you and him are still trying to navigate the thick tension. You peek at your cards and he glances at his.

He wins the first game, but now you’re determined.

Eventually you and him get sucked into playing. So many matches pass that when you win Joel pouts, throwing his cards down.

You burst out laughing. It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve laughed, and it’s freeing.

“You’re a sore loser.” You tease.

“I ain’t.” Joel rumbles back, scowling harder.

“Mhm, yeah sure. There’s a candyland box nearby I can get to prove you are.” You surprisingly joke, buoyant.

Joel shakes his head.

“I’ll show ya who’s a sore fuckin’ loser when I beat your ass at poker.”

“I don’t know how to play poker. Go Fish or nothing else.” You shrug.

Then, Joel snorts. It’s not a laugh, not even anything special, but it eases the strain among you and him even more. He starts shuffling the deck and hands out the cards to you.

With the most stern of voices, so seriously Joel, he asks if you have any sevens.

You laugh into your hand.

“I’m being fuckin’ serious!” He snaps.

You laugh even harder.

In this fucked up moment, in this murky situation, this brightens your soul.

A week passes.

Over the radio you hear Tess tell Joel flat out how heavy it’s gotten in the city.

“The fucking fireflies…FEDRA, everything, it’s gotten fucking insane… we might not get the car, or even the fucking battery Joel. We need to think of a plan b.”

Your stomach twists sick. Where was your mom? And what would happen if they decide you’re not worth the hassle anymore.

Shakily you head into the bathroom and sob into your hands trying to stay as quiet as you can.

Soon you’re a shell of yourself.

When you step back outside however, you’re resolved. Instead of the basement, Joel now waits in the kitchen, and his eyes widen seeing you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice picks up with a wind of worry.

“Joel.” You begin calmly and somber. “Be honest with me…”

You ask him the question that’s been haunting you.

What will become of you if FEDRA doesn’t hold up their bargain? If even your mom can’t follow through?

“Will…you get rid of me?” You speak soft, without even having to divulge more, but the festering rotting truth lies under your words.

The silence feels sharpened.

Joel quietly speaks first.

“No. Won’t do that to ya.” He mutters.

You don’t know if he’s lying or telling the truth.

You and Joel simply stare at each other. So much hangs tangled and barbed between you and him.

All you can do is simply nod. You swear his eyes soften for just a moment.

Another week passes. No signs or commotion from FEDRA. It’s beginning to feel like you’re in a room slowly filling with water, like you’re on borrowed time.

But you manage to pass the days with Joel through more card games. You try playing Pictionary with him, but his attempt at drawing a dog looks like a camel, and you laugh so hard at how badly he pouts.

It’s becoming amicable now, you and him.

But supplies are running low. Joel doesn’t sugar coat that harsh truth.

“There’s another stop we can go to from here, but I’m hoping we won’t need to.” He’s still waiting, hoping for FEDRA to answer.

Eventually the night settles in, and you’re surprised he joins you for another card game.

Right now you and him try another game of poker. You’ve come to learn you are not very good, which is also why you think Joel likes playing it knowing he wins.

“So how does a Texan far from home become the king of smugglers?” You try to ease the air by pushing more conversation with him.

“Just something that happened honestly,” Joel mutters, passing out the weathered cards.

“Got involved with my brother back when we started traveling outta Texas and just…never stopped.” He reveals.

“Your brother, he’s the one you’re looking for…” You remember.

“Yeah.” Joel agrees low.

“I hope you find him.” Gathering the cards dealt to you, you mean those words.

“Thanks…hope we can get ya back home.” A hint of sincerity leaks into Joel's voice and you appreciate that.

You’re about to deal your hand when rustling comes from outside. Glancing out the window, you try to find something among the dark shadows.

“What?” Joel asks fast and low.

“I don’t know… thought I heard something.” You mumble.

In that same breath, bullets fly through the window, shattering everything. The moment unfolds in a flurry of chaos.

“Raiders!” Joel shouts while you and him try to stay low. You crawl towards your bag.

The door gets kicked in and your heart races fast. Even as you and Joel scramble to maybe get down to the basement it's hard with the commotion rushing in.

Joel is swift with his gun, but the raiders keep coming.

Windows shatter further in the back of the house. They’re infesting. Time to leave. It’s a rapid rush to get outside. Before running into the woods, you stop to rummage in your bag finally remembering something important.

“The fuck are ya doing?!” Joel screams with a snarl.

You act fast. You rip a piece of your shirt edge, and grab the alcohol you stole along with the flint.

“Shit.” Joel breathes out realizing what you’re doing.

You’ve seen plenty of these, just never believed you’d ever make one.

Cloth in the liquid, Joel moves to help you light the flint.

Then when fire sparks catches onto the strip of clothing you stand up.

The adrenaline sets you ablaze. You throw the bottle with all your might. It manages to collide against the house’s porch. Soon the world is engulfed in a vibrant orange flame, a hellfire right before you.

Screams of raiders mix with the flames.

“Come on.” Joel urges and grabs your hand.

A rush of footsteps comes and it’s too late to react.

Something hard hits the side of your face. You cry in pain falling to the ground. The world spins on itself. Everything is disoriented. Your face throbs so bad, and you cough through the tears stinging your eyes. The sound of Joel firing off his gun again comes.

Then his hands steady you up.

“Y’okay darlin’?” He asks frantic and you nod, tired.

“Let’s go.” Joel grabs your hand again. This time don’t let it go.

Even arriving at the abandoned gas station deemed safe to stay, you don’t let his hand go. He doesn’t yell at you about it.

Instead Joel sits besides you, flush against your side.

Against the shadowed darkness of the old building, you hold his hand firm in his and he doesn’t let go either.

You wake up first this time and find your head slumped against Joel’s shoulder, resting against him now. His head also rests on top of yours.

This is new.

But then again, so was the term he used for you. You wonder if you just imagined it.

Unlike now, this is very real. You’ve never been this close to him, can smell the faintest traces of him, musky and dark. He snores. His hair tickles against your head, but you don’t want to move.

If anything you close your eyes again hoping for a few more minutes of peace. Joel eventually shifts, waking you both up. Nothing is said about the sleeping positions.

Then he turns to you, and his face falls.

Immediately Joel moves closer. Delicately one of his hands moves to your chin to examine your cheek.

“Does it hurt?” He asks gently and you shake your head.

Not as much. You know there’s probably an ugly bruise, but it could be worse. You’re grateful this is all you have.

“You should’ve seen the other guy.” You darkly joke.

Joel scoffs a small noise, maybe the echo of a laugh.

“So… Should I be worried about anything else you might’ve stolen?” His dry tone doesn’t sound upset.

You promise the bottle is all you took.

Joel hums, nodding.

“You continue to keep surprisin’ me.” His words are softer than he’s ever sounded

Now you realize, Joel is closer than ever before too. His face intensely scowled up now stares directly at you.

You drink in the sight of the king of the smugglers this close. The sun spots on his face, the age lines along his gorgeous features, it’s hard to deny how stunning he is.

After yesterday night it’s like you’re reminded raw and fierce how dangerous, but gorgeous of a man Joel is.

You think of the party you first met Joel. You remember thinking how you felt the remnants of safety, of protection that Joel showed then.

You should hate him. You wouldn’t be in these situations if it wasn’t for him. But when you ask yourself if you would rather be in the QZ, the truth is a distorted answer you might not be ready to face.

Without a word Joel whips around and moves to sling his backpack on better.

“Come on, let’s head out.” He announces.

You stay close to his side.

You expected another silent journey. However, the warmth of the day, the stretch of houses blurring more into the woods brings Joel out of his shell.

He talks about the Texas heat and how it used to be scorching. Interestingly points out different housing structures, and you learn he used to work as a contractor. Joel even asks about your job working at the school.

“It’s a job.” You say a bit standoffish.

“You don’t like it.” Joel sees right through you instantly.

“My mom likes it.” It’s safe, secure, stable and away from any harm and under the watch of FEDRA.

“What d’ya want to do then?” Joel asks surprisingly patient.

You pause momentarily, and the wind blows across your face.

It’s such a simple silly dream you hold in your heart…

Having your own house, enjoying peace, simply embracing living day to day without any worry about what to do or if your mom would approve.

“To simply be.” You answer. It’s enough for Joel, and you swear you see a faint grin tugging his lips.

The trail transforms into a serene sight, and you’re in awe of the beautiful landscape.

You should be scared that you’re walking away more and more from the QZ, even trusting Joel to follow him. But you’re not. The stretching trees untouched by the city, the edges of summer still peeking through the greenery, it's beautiful.

And getting hear Joel open up more, means more than you care to admit. He talks about this one mix up a couple of his guys made where they mistook baby milk formula powder for cocaine.

“Not Mister Scary Lord of the underworld getting upset over that.” You tease, and it almost feels like flirting.

Joel rolls his eyes. It adds a glowing playfulness to him, like seeing a small glimpse of the man he was before the world ended.

The further from the QZ you go, the deeper and deeper you’re drawn into this endless maze of a man that is Joel.

(iv)

You never believed a place like Bill and Frank’s existed.

Their own personal town is otherworldly. They, mainly Frank, welcome you with warm and glimmering hospitality. They’re both older, slightly around Joel’s age.

“So, what’s a lovely thing like you doing with Joel?” Frank asks jokingly.

“Oh, I’m just a hostage.” You sleepily grin. Frank’s face falls while Bill barks a laugh.

It’s easy to melt into this new world with these two and Joel. You never expected him to have friends like this, and it’s interesting uncovering more facets of him.

Bill barks for you not snoop, but Frank winks reassuringly to make yourself at home. The hot shower is an oasis, and the comfortable bed becomes a cloud.

Well rested, the next day you wander the town. You stay out until it’s dark. No infected, no raiders, no fireflies or no worries… just simply you and the beautiful night sky above.

“Still not payin’ attention to where you’re goin’.” Joel’s voice flutters in.

Along the side of the street he looks dreamy under the soft dark night.

“Can’t help it,” you truthfully say, glancing back up. The stars are too lovely not to admire.

You end up wandering closer to Joel or maybe he walks towards you. It’s too hard to tell.

“You can never see the stars this bright even at the QZ.” You return to admire the stars even with Joel besides you.

If your mom just knew how far you were.

Joel snorts, and you realize you spoke those words aloud. Even though you’re a bit embarrassed you simply shrug.

“It’s true.” You agree.

“Seems like she’s kinda…” Joel trails off.

“Controlling?” You finish, and he nods.

You understand why. She’s seen horrors, lost so much. But you’re an adult, a fully grown one and you’ve seen a fair share of hardships too. You just want to be understanding both to her, and to yourself.

You even explain this to Joel.

“You’re good, maybe too kind.” Joel mutters and you now intrigued turn to him. His eyes twinkle in the dark night more than they ever have. “Don’t seem to see the bad in people.”

Maybe you do. Maybe you understand that people in this world contain fuzzy and hard to decipher multitudes now.

Joel snorts when you tell him that.

“Y’know you’ve been traveling with a one of FEDRA’s top bad guys this whole entire time right?”

You know. Joel even calls himself a thief. But he doesn’t seem as evil as you believed him to be.

Glancing at him, the way the darkness should bring out his shadows. It instead illuminates him like a faint star. You think someone this man can’t be fully evil. Or maybe you’re not as good, blooming and unfolding in the mud to reveal your true nature.

You and Joel simply walk back to Bill and Frank’s in silence.

The radio also stays silent another week.

You’re worried about overstaying your welcome, especially with how hard Bill glares at you like you’re a pest. Frank however, eagerly includes you in so many of his projects and errands.

“Not as young as I used to be.” He teases while tending to one of the gardens, and you readily help as much as you can.

You stare in awe at all the beautiful lush vegetables and plants. There’s even a couple of fruit trees.

“Joel always asks for fruit when he comes for trades.” Frank chuckles.

You never would have expected Bill and Frank to be a part of Joel’s team.

“I know, we don’t seem like the type, or maybe I don’t seem like the type to be helping smugglers.” Frank comments teasing, as if he read your mind.

You quickly stammer out that you don’t mind.

“This world, it’s not as black and white as we think it is. Surviving an apocalypse really does paint everything in a murky gray. Sometimes, it’s okay to just accept that.” Frank explains.

You’re slowly starting to agree more and more with that.

“I know…there’s…a delicate situation going on between you and Joel.” Frank speaks cautiously.

“But I want you to know…that if this is serious, and you don’t feel comfortable with Joel or truly want to go return home, there’s ways we could figure it out.” His tone is serious, truthful and sincere.

His words warm you.

But you swallow hard. In the watch of the peaceful yard you reveal a shadowed truth that’s been building in you.

You don’t know if you want to go back. You know you will have to if FEDRA and your mom honor the trade. But you’re dreading returning to your life under the eyes of the decaying QZ streets, FEDRA, your mother…

And even if you do return there, you can’t imagine going without Joel.

“I just want to make sure he’s safe.” You add quietly.

“You probably think I sound awful or out of my mind.” Then you laugh hollow.

Frank doesn’t reply immediately. You wait for him to judge you.

“I don’t think that at all.” His hand gently pats yours. “I think you’re actually really brave being so honest.”

That brings a thickness in your throat. Frank grins warmly at you, squeezes your hand comfortingly. You soak up his kindness like a flower bud in the sunlight.

However, another day passes with no noise among the picturesque world.

At breakfast you try holding back your laughter while Bill and Frankie aruge over the Wizard of Oz.

Joel, who surprisingly slept in late, emerges to take a seat at the table.

Him and Bill immediately jump into discussion about smuggling routes and new supplies. Frank slowly slips out to the kitchen.

“What day is it?” Joel asks.

Bill simply tells it to Joel, but it’s like a switch is flipped on.

He shoots up out of his chair, doesn’t even care that it topples over or that he slams into the table knocking everything. Bill yells at him fiercely. But Joel storms out of the room leaving everyone in his aftermath.

“What happened?” Frank asks, emerging back into the dining room.

“Joel, being fucking Joel.” Bill sneers.

Frank ignores his husband and turns to you. Explaining what happened, his lovely face frowns instant.

“Oh…oh I forgot about today.” He mutters.

You ask what today means. Frank slides closer to you with his eyes low.

“If I remember right…Today’s Sarah’s birthday.” He answers.

Confusion bubbles up, and you ask who Sarah is.

Frank’s face contorts in shock.

“Sarah…she’s Joel’s daughter that passed away.”

Those words take your breath away and you feel your world tilt on its axis.

Joel was a dad. Joel had a daughter.

You never would have expected. Frank must see the look in your eyes now as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“He doesn’t talk about her much. It’s not your fault you didn’t know.”

You’re left haunted by it all though.

Eventually you get the confidence and bravery enough to find Joel.

Walking around the vacant neighbor, you eventually spot him sitting on the porch step of one of the homes.

“Fuck you doin’ here?” He snaps, but there’s no malice in his voice, only a hollowness.

Standing besides him, you inhale deep.

“My big sister was infected on outbreak day.” You begin.

It happened after school when your mom was talking with your neighbor outside your home. You were still so little, barely remember pieces of it.

But the memories you have are sharp.

You’re in the kitchen, laughing at something your sister says. Suddenly she starts twitching. Then your world ended. You still hear her snarls sometimes, still taste the terror when she tried biting you and how you prayed it was just a game, until the screams of your mom came. It’s simply been you and her ever since.

Joel’s face finally turns to you and his eyes are wide, glossy obsidian gems and so open, so unlike Joel. Yet it’s like you’re seeing a true layer of him.

“I’m so sorry about your daughter Joel. That pain of loss never really leaves and I get it.” You carry your big sister’s ghost with you now.

Joel doesn’t say anything, instead clenches his jaw and blinks away the shimmering gloss reflecting in his eyes.

“It ain’t the same.” He suddenly snaps back. “You never felt the pain of losin’ a child.”

You feel insulted.

“Loss is still a loss Joel. Don’t you dare say my hurt is less than yours. What would your daughter say?” You snap back.

You know that’s not a kind thing to say. It galvanizes Joel. He bolts up and becomes a terrifying looming force that pierces you where you stand.

His voice silence is deadly, slices through you.

There’s so much you want to say to hurt him, but what good will it do. You simply blink away tears and walk away, leaving Joel to his ache as you try to quell yours.

Trying to settle your emotions, you end up walking around the ghost town and spot various glorious wildflowers, blooms so vibrantly colorful. You grab as many as you can.

Back at the house, Frank brightens immediately seeing the flowers in your hands.

“I got just the vase for them!”

Frank asks if you picked these for yourself and you shake your head.

“For those who have passed, and for Sarah.” Your answer.

Frank doesn’t say anything but instead nods, a silent understanding.

You head back to the guest room to try taking a nap. You accidentally left the door open partially, and soon enough Joel’s arrival lumbers into the grand home.

“Bill get those for you?” He notices the flowers.

Frank snorts. “You know Bill wouldn’t.”

He instead clarifies you did.

“For today…for Sarah.” Frank then adds.

Joel is quiet. You close your eyes and now drift into the flickering world between falling asleep and being aware.

You swear you faintly hear the door creak open more, catch the faint smell of cedar, and feel delicate but callous fingers run across your face.

But when you open your eyes, no one is in the room.

It’s like nothing happened between you or Joel the next morning. He even helps you and Frank outside harvesting some of the ripe new fruit.

“Can't handle Bill’s grumpy ass anymore.” Joel explains.

“Two grumpies together might just be too much.” You tease. Joel glares dully at you. Frank snickers amused.

You perk up bright seeing the lovely apples on the tree.

“Go ahead! Try one!” Frank eagerly urges and you do.

You haven’t had fresh apples in years. Your eyes close in bliss tasting sweet heaven and you munch away.

Suddenly a thick thumb runs against your cheek and your eyes snap open.

“Sorry. Got some on your cheek.” Joel clarifies drawing his hand away.

He suddenly draws it into his mouth to have a taste. You feel a bit dizzy but in a way that makes your stomach flip.

Joel’s eyes go wide, momentarily realizing what he did. Without another word, he bolts.

You and Frank are left staring at each other stunned.

The rest of the day Joel stays glued to the radio in Bill’s workshop.

Later that night your fingers crawl silently under the sheets, under your underwear, and you imagine what Joel would feel like. This man that’s taken you away from your home - you should feel guilty and ashamed, even horrified at this. But instead you only find an ache for more for his fingers to replace yours.

But even among the decadent desires you indulge in more and more…

Another week passes.

You and Joel share a somberness, slowly facing the harsh truth.

You may not be returning home.

“I want us to have a nice dinner tonight!” Frank must sense it too because he declares a bright order.

“So that means new outfits and everyone taking a good shower!” Frank insists proudly showing you to the clothing boutique the town has.

You end up grabbing the softest looking sundress. It’s delicate, fits comfortably on you and even makes you feel brand new.

Especially after taking another warm shower with the homemade lavender soap Frank gave you as another gift. Bill seems to be warming up to you. He even makes a dull joke about you taking a shorter shower than Joel.

When Joel does emerge from the shower, something shifts in you. His wet slicked back hair highlights all his silver streaks. In the new button up shirt Frank shoved at him and ordered him to wear, he’s gorgeous.

The terrifying ruler of a smuggling empire, now just a man who seems almost embarrassed, fidgets because you stare at him so directly.

Dinner is thankfully wonderful.

At some point you realize the role of hostage, of someone kidnapped, doesn’t feel so barbed. You now roam freely without any fear. Laugh warmly at the stories Frank tells that makes Bill scoff and Joel roll his eyes.

You insist on cleaning up to let Bill and Frank enjoy the nice evening to themselves.

In the kitchen you gather the plates until the door creaks open behind.

“Needed to get away from Bill’s god damn glarin’ st me being the third wheel.” Joel huffs.

Smirking, you find Joel effortlessly begins putting away dishes, helping.

It’s peaceful. In another life you wonder if this could have been a regular evening, in a house you owned…with someone you cared for.

Someone who you hate looks eerily like Joel.

You shift to go grab something just as he moves, and the two of you gently collide. It’s nothing extreme, but Joel’s hand moves to steady you against your lower back.

“Sorry.” He mutters, and your eyes flicker to him. He’s close again. So close you can almost smell the rosemary and pine soap among a scent so deeply Joel. He doesn't move yet. Neither do you.

That’s when you catch it, Joel’s deep rust eyes glance away from your gaze and towards your lips.

You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, or have something on your face. But his hand against your back feels warm, steady, like you never want it to leave. His face ever so slightly begins to pull closer towards you.

You don’t want this to stop.

But Bills footsteps clamor to the kitchen. It electrifies both you and Joel causing him to scurry out of the kitchen.

That night you’re unable to sleep.

Frank always offered his collection of books for you to browse through. You decide to glance around and hope something sparks your interest.

That’s when a muffled groan floats out into the hallway.

Curiosity and a hint of worry has you walking back towards the rooms.

A choked out sigh comes from Joel’s room and the world melts away.

You need to go back to your room, even head back to the living room.

But you instead lean closer and find the door is slightly cracked like Joel thought he closed it but didn’t.

You faintly hear it, the sound of him jerking off. His soft sighs, his hand rubbing out his cock, it makes your mouth dry and water at the same time.

You’re no better than a creepy pervert, but you can’t help it.

Joel’s hand speeds up faster and now your wet core begs for attention already.

Then his climax hits with a deep loud groan, and it’s delicious.

You shift trying to quell the heat crawling all over your body.

But Joel sighs.

And he says your name.

It’s clear, steals your breath.

Maybe it’s been this recent journey that’s reminded you how short this life is… but whatever galvanized energy it is, it surges through you to move and push into Joel’s room.

Oh he’s a sight.

Your mouth waters seeing his cock, thick, beautiful and messy before it’s covered by the blanket.

Joel scrambles up petrified. “What the fuck y’doing here?!”

“You said my name,” you whisper slowly creeping towards him while shutting the door behind you.

“You’re hearin’ shit.” He barks low, angry and harsh.

You swallow hard.

“I think about you too… whenever I touch myself.” You admit barely above a whisper.

Joel’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, but immediately he coughs as if he got punched.

“Go back to your room.” He urges, but it’s not persistent. You shake your head no, and now arrive against the side of his bed.

“We… you…this shouldn’t be happenin’.” He urges.

“You say you’re a thief, that you’re the bad guy here,” you mutter posessed. “Maybe I am too.”

“Darlin’” Joel breathes out that sacred term, the one you’ve prayed to hear again.

Confidence surges through you more toxic than any other poison.

“Maybe I wanna take for once,” you whisper, moving onto the bed. Your eyes glance to the wet white sticky mess against Joel’s stomach and his hand that he didn’t cover.

Your mouth aches to taste him.

So flickering your gaze to Joel, it’s a cautious moment and what you’re about to do can fall apart in a minute. But your hand moves delicately, cautious. Your eyes stay on Joel, waiting for him to tell you no or react.

But he doesn’t.

You grab his cum covered hand still keeping your eyes on him. Until you glance down at his hand, his calloused beautiful large hand.

He still hasn’t pulled away or made a noise to stop you.

Tentatively you lick up his fingers, tasting his release.

“Fuck!” Joel barks out a harsh hiss.

You’re worried he’s going to yank his hand away, but he doesn’t. He instead sits up more like he’s been electrocuted.

It’s enough to let you indulge now.

So you draw his fingers into your mouth.

They’re so large. The salty taste of his cum and the taste of his skin on your tongue makes your eyes close as you clean his fingers.

“Fuckin’ shit, baby.” You want to hear him say those words over and over, want to cherish how wrecked his voice breaks.

Now, very slowly, Joel’s fingers move in your mouth and you moan. He traces your teeth, drags the meat of his fingers across your tongue and plunges deeper into your mouth.

Your eyes roll back, and on instinct you start sucking.

“Yeah darlin’ yeah.” Joe whispers hoarsely, and you want to get drunk on him.

Steady, his fingers plunge in and out, fucking your mouth as you become putty in his hold. His other hand now runs up your thigh, under the edge of your dress.

“Want you so bad Joel.” Even with his fingers in your mouth you whimper out those words maybe mainly to yourself, maybe thinking this is just a dream.

But the way Joel surges up, yanks his hand out of your mouth to clutch your face, and he kisses you like a parched man…

This feels too good to be a dream.

You melt into it, into Joel, greedily stealing all he gives you. Just as you welcome him to steal all he wants from you, and you readily give him everything. No worries about anything else, it’s simply you and him.

When Joel slides into you, deep and wide, when his breath tickles the heat of your skin, you taste the essence of him all around - the world feels reborn.

Joel however, is slightly more reluctant.

“M’too old for you.” He argues after the second night you crawl into his room.

“You think I care?” I simply say running your fingers against his warm chest.

“You should.”

Well you don’t and you tell him that.

Then the dark doubt creeps in.

Because there are other things you should care about.

“Are you doing this…”

Just to be cruel, to maybe even control you.

Joel sits up holding your hand against his chest. Your eyes met his. There’s steeled sincerity in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“No… hate that I wanted you from the start, before all this.” At the party. That feels like ages ago.

You can’t help but ask him why, why you.

He sighs, and his thumb strokes your hand.

“Saw you when ya first walked in. You laughed at something your friend said. It was so loud, so fuckin’ genuine.”

You’re about to apologize, embarrassed, at how loud you laugh until Joel continues.

“Knew you were something fierce, something beautiful. I was gone the minute you smashed that god damn drink in that guy's face.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. So much clouds the room and it feels thick, but it’s like the thickness of a misty morning fog you want to get lost in. You kiss him tenderly, as if you have all the time in the world.

After this a new shift comes between you and Joel. His hands always seem to be on you, gently touching your arm or grazing past you closer. After your nights with him, hickies paint your thighs and you admire them in the morning.

In the dark, Joel tells you more about Tommy, about the plan he has for finding his brother. Even sometimes he reveals bits and pieces about Sarah.

You soak in every moment you can with him. Joel even stays a full day away from the radio helping Bill renovating one of the sheds. It’s a gift watching Joel work with his hands and tools, like watching the shadow of a past still existing in him.

Your heart becomes a treasure chest holding all these moments.

But something darker still rots in you.

FEDRA still remains silent.

(v)

Summer winds down. Cooler air settles in the town, and you happily enjoy sitting on the porch more and more.

You’d been eyeing the pomegranate for a few days. Now after Frank happily told you to enjoy, you excitedly and greedily cut into it. Joel even showed you how to earlier.

Currently you sit on the porch enjoying the soft breeze. Frank sits besides you watching Bill work on a project. You laugh at how affectionate the two are even while bickering.

Scooping out a couple of the pomegranate seeds, their beautiful ruby color stains your finger. They taste of a sweetness you never want to leave. Boots approach from behind.

“Joel! Come, sit. Enjoy the nice early autumn weather.” Frank calls and you turn to grin at him.

“FEDRA finally got in contact.” Joel’s words pop the air.

Everything stills.

When you turn towards Joel, the somber stare on his face already reveals the answer.

FEDRA denied the exchange.

The rest of the pomegranate sits uneaten on the porch.

You sit in Joel’s room quietly for what feels like years. The tears don’t even come anymore.

“She can stay here! She’d be a welcomed addition” Frank urges from the living room. “We’ve appreciated all the extra help around here.”

“No. Take her back.” Bill interjects flat.

Frank shushes his husband.

The conversation becomes low, muffled, and you’re too tired to even try and listen. You instead curl into Joel’s pillow, and let sleep take you.

A callous hand gently stroking your cheeks wakes you. The low early evening light bathes Joel glorious, and you faintly smell wine Joel must have had.

“You gonna get rid of me now?” You mumble hollow.

Joel shakes his head no.

“Too late for that.” He says with the faintest hint of a crooked grin. “Told ya, I’m head smuggler for a fuckin’ reason, like to keep what’s mine close.”

You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. But the tears manage to return.

“What’s gonna happen now?” While you ask, your voice breaks.

Joel exhales.

“Don’t know.” He says truthfully.

You’re grateful he’s being honest. Joel’s dark autumn eyes glance away.

“I know we’ll manage, find a car, get Tommy.” He nods to himself.

“But…” he adds with his voice trailing off.

“Don’t wanna think about you leaving,” Joel admits with the lowest rumble.

“Can’t fuckin’ handle it… thinkin’ about not knowin’ how you’re doing, not seeing you…” he shakes his head.

“It’s fuck up. I know it’s god damn fucked up... If you want me to take you back to the QZ, I’ll do it. If you wanna just stay here, I’d let ya.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, almost debris filled with so many emotions begging to get out.

You slide your hands around him, and he draws you closer. The world might be crumbling again all around you, but he feels like a steady rock amongst it all.

“I don’t wanna leave, don’t wanna leave you.” You whimper out the truth.

Joel holds you tighter into his strong warm embrace.

That night you fuck Joel like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him, and a grim darkness seeping in your mind whispers it might be.

You want every piece of him. So when you open your mouth wide, without any question, Joel runs his thumb across your bottom lip and spits into your mouth. You greedily swallow.

What surprises you is when you’re seated in Joel’s lap, slowly grinding up and down on his thick cock, he weakly opens his mouth as well.

Tenderly stroking his cheek, you gently lean down and let the spit drip from your mouth into his. You feel drunk watching Joel’s eyes roll back as he swallows.

Instead of feral roughness, or a devouring passion, it’s tender, makes your heart swell. Joel’s hands map you out like you’re a cherished rare gem.

In his arms, in the quiet stillness of the room, your heart begs for weeds to start growing around you.

(vi)

From a glance out the window, the pumpkins seem to be flourishing beautifully. They’re your first big vegetables you’re growing, with Bill’s supervision of course. But you’re proud of the progress nonetheless.

You’re finishing cleaning the last bit of dishes from breakfast when a sturdy arm slides around you from behind.

For someone so grumpy, Joel is surprisingly and secretly a cuddly creature. His wonderful nose burrows into the side of your face.

“Wanna work on the kitchen today,” he mutters.

The old house across the street from Bill and Frank’s has become the new project. While you still stay with Bill and Frank, your hope is to eventually make that empty house a home.

The autumn air invigorates you as you go to visit Frank in his sunroom.

“Will you be okay here by yourself?” You ask him gently.

Frank snorts. “You and Bill both, such worrywarts.”

Frank’s been moving slower, coughing more. It tugs at your heart. Over the radio you now even ask Tess if there’s other medication options for him to try.

You’ve grown to care about him, even grouchy Bill and Tess who even seems to warm up to you now.

It’s your own carved out universe.

Frank good naturedly pats your hand, reassuring you he’ll be fine. With a squeeze to his shoulder and a warm goodbye, you head across the street.

Of course Joel takes charge, and it’s hard not to jump his bones seeing how effortlessly he takes to fixing up this house.

The night you decided to stay here, Joel slid you a paper and pen.

“Draw me your dream house.” He told you gruffy.

He kept that very poor drawing. It’s what guides the renovations. The house is smaller than Bill and Frank’s but to you, it’s a perfect size.

“You know I can do it myself, make Bill work too.” Joel had told you when you first showed up to help.

“I know, but I wanna help. Wanna know my elbow grease went into everything too.” You told Joel with a grin.

He didn’t shoo you away after that. Now you get to help around when you can. The sanded cabinets and freshly painted walls, all fruits of your labor and you’re excited, proud, seeing the house come together. It’s breathing life into his dusty space, and you cherish it.

Eventually you head back to Bill and Frank’s.

Frank calls to you. “The radio came on.”

With Joel throwing himself into fixing up the house, interestingly enough you’ve become his stand in. It’s how you and Tess slowly began bonding. You’ve told her FEDRA routes and patrol changes and she’s in turn gossiped about what’s been happening in Boston.

You miss it often, but the peace of walking to visit your pumpkins, to helping Frank at breakfast, of having Joel in your bed…it’s like a new breath in your lungs.

“Hey.” You greet Tess.

She says your name, somber and you still.

“Your mom…she finally got in contact with us.”

You inhale shakily. A part of you had wondered if your mom would do something like this.

Finally managing to get a hold of a battery, your mom is offering to trade it for you.

A wave of fear does grip you. You don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back. But you also miss her dearly.

When Joel returns, beautifully coated in sweat and saw dust, he’s like a construction god. But seeing your face, he instantly understands something’s up.

In the seclusion of your room, you tell Joel you’ll return to Boston, and his eyes become moons.

“You don’t have to go back.” Joel whispers to you later that night. “Can say we want more.”

You shake your head.

Your mom has been through enough, and Joel needs this.

“You need to find Tommy.”

His hand curls against your face holding your cheek so precious. “We’ll find another battery, or hell I’ll take one of Bill’s. Don’t want ya feeling like you’re forced to go back.”

This has all been out of your control and now, you have a say.

You’ll return with Joel, but you won’t be fully returning to your life in Boston either. You’ll exist between these two worlds now, visiting your mom and primarily staying with Joel.

Your mom won’t be happy about this, you can almost hear her fury already. But this is what you want. It’s the journey your path will take.

“Y’okay with this?” Joel suddenly asks before leaving the gate to the town. His eyes search yours. “You don’t have to do this, especially for me.”

You understand what he means, but this is for you.

Gently you draw Joel towards you and kiss him soft.

With the smuggler king, you walk firmly into the sunlight. The early autumn breeze gently guides you forward.