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promisingyounglady · 1 month

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accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

��It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

1K notes · View notes

heartpascal · 1 year

Note

Pls tell me there's a part two for "if the door wasn't shut". I need Joel and Ellie to come back and reader avoiding them and not speaking to them and just walking away when they try to talk to her. Ofc happy ending but make them work for that forgiveness

i would let you in

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part two of if the door wasnt shut — after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure.

▹ — a/n: i have no idea how the timeline is gonna work out in the show so ignore that!!! i went off on a bit of a tangent in this one… oops. anyways. let me know if you guys do want a part three!!!

▹ — warnings: angst!!!! AND MORE ANGST!!! oh yeah and a bit of angst too. father figure joel (except he’s failed that role for reader), arguments, throwing of objects, general hopeless feelings, sadness, not proofread, also you WILL like pottery and ceramics sorry!! almost father figure tommy….

▹ — tags: @faceache111 @viknowsbest @inkiqayo @wrcn9fvlcver @pedropascalsrealgf @httpjiikook @issybee0611 @liableperfections @dksjskx @canpillowscry @beeblisss @lizzylynch1 @randomstory56 @hiphopdancer101universe (once again just tagged everyone who asked for pt 2! pls let me know if you want the tag removed<;3)

masterlist | PART THREE

howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Everything in this world felt empty. It all felt so… weightless. Like you could pick something up, and it would have no meaning. Sometimes, you felt that way, too.

You couldn’t help it.

It was like everything you felt had drained from your very being, leaving your deflated and aching and empty.

But the emptiness sometimes masked as rage, and then you were throwing all of these meaningless things at meaningless walls, sick to death of hearing yourself yell about things that didn’t matter, that held no weight.

It didn’t matter what it was, it just gave you the shortest reprieve of feeling something, of feeling angry. It burned hot in your veins, and for a moment, you were full of fire. Until your oxygen ran out, and the fire spluttered before it died away, leaving you panting and exhausted and empty once more.

You knew it concerned Maria. Knew that she didn’t need this, the stress of having some kid that lacked the ability to even feel remorseful for breaking the plate that she had only just given you. She should’ve been focusing on the impending arrival of her actual kid, not feeling responsible for the one her brother-in-law had practically dumped on her doorstep.

But you didn’t ask for this either, did you?

Even when you had tried to leave, tried to get a horse out of its stall in the stable, tried to follow the only people you believed you could trust, you couldn’t.

You just about remember the way Tommy had pulled you back from where you had been frantic, trying to untie the horse in a frenzy as your chest heaved, the abandonment trying to deep into your bones. You had coughed and gasped, doing everything you could to try and get this feeling out of you, but nothing had worked.

Then, you had woken up on Tommy and Maria’s couch, the two of them beginning to doze off as the night crept up on them. It had been Maria who had jolted awake first, even when you just rustled the blanket they’d placed over you.

You didn’t want her pity then, had outright refused it. The two adults had tried to comfort you, but you had made it so difficult — because why should you make it easy? Your trust had been burnt up, your tether had reached its end, and you felt… hopeless.

There was nobody left for you in this world — and you wouldn’t let Maria or Tommy try to change that, even with their consistent attempts at being there for you.

They had relented to letting you remain in the house across the road, despite wanting you to remain in their home. They brought over meals every day, whether it be from the pub in town, or from their own kitchen.

Luckily for you, they hadn’t mentioned the cuts to your hand, the ones you had gotten from scraping up shards of ceramic off of the floor, after yet another one of your meltdowns. Sometimes, the only way you could actually feel that anger, was to let it out. And considering they hadn’t given you any of your weapons back, throwing plates and bowls and cups against all available surfaces had to suffice.

It had been weeks — you were sure of it. As much as you tried not to take count, the absence of the only people you had left made the days and nights pass slowly, so slowly that it was just a matter of how many days had you been throwing things? Or how many nights had remained restless?

It was on the twenty-sixth day that Maria had enough, seeing the remains of yet another plate in the garbage around the back of your house.

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep breaking these, you’re gonna have to start replacing them.” Maria told you, voice sterner than it had been in a long time. She’d tried the gentle approach, tried being soft, tried letting you heal in your own way, but it didn’t seem to be working. So strict Maria it would have to be. “Come with me.”

You followed her, with some reluctance, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice. After all, as much as you hated to admit it, you relied on her. Without her, you were screwed.

So, you shrugged on your coat, and followed her as the snow crunched underneath your boots. She took turns so quickly, with so little hesitation, that you were almost surprised. You’d been in Jackson for a few weeks, and this didn’t feel familiar to you.

She tugged open a shop door, coughing away the dust that shot up at her, and felt the wall for a light switch, humming in victory when the store lit up.

You looked around, confused. You didn’t have money to buy new plates… and this place looked empty. You turned to Maria, watching as she wiped the dust off of a circular… machine?

“Well, it’s not the cleanest,” She acknowledged, “But there’s some supplies left out back, and the boys know where to get more clay.”

“Clay? What— Maria, what is this place?” You asked, running your finger against the dusty grooves of a wooden table, feeling bumps of dried something, and leaning forward to inspect the tools that had been abandoned on the table.

“Old ceramics shop,” She told you, opening the door to the back section of the shop and opening a window to let the air breathe. “Hasn’t been a big priority, really. Came in to get some plates when some of the houses had none, but nobody’s been all to bothered ‘bout fixing it up.”

“So, why am I here?” You raised your eyebrows, starting to get annoyed.

“Because, you’re gonna fix it up. If you’re gonna keep breaking all my damn plates, you’re gonna have to replace ‘em.” Maria replied, opening the windows at the front of the shop, and twisting the sign on the door from open, to closed.

“I… I don’t know shit about making plates.” You offered up quietly, fingers picking at your nails as you tried to get out of this. You did feel… almost guilty, about her plates, but at the same time, it was all you could do.

“Well, no better time to learn. Got some books around here, that’ll help, I’m sure. You can figure this out.” Maria said, your name falling softly from her lips, and you missed the other thing she was doing, which would be giving you something to do, giving you a purpose.

You huffed, feeling something nervous brewing in your stomach, but nodded at Maria before she left. You looked around the shop, eyebrows creasing as you realised you had a lot of work to do.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy’s face was a sight, the first time he walked into the old ceramics shop.

When Maria had come to him, nearing tears in her excitement, telling him that you had finally done the ceramics shop some good, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He was well aware how much time you spent in that old place, and he had scolded you over it numerous times, saying the dust would do you no favours… or whatever.

The two of them knew that really, the ceramics shop had done you some good, but Tommy didn’t quite realise how much effort you had really put into it. Sure, it had been more than a few weeks now, but you were on your own in fixing it up.

So when you opened the door, something so close to a smile on your face, he was surprised. Shocked, even.

The surfaces were clean, for a start, which was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. The furniture had been put back into place, not counting the pile of rotted wood that was outside, unsalvageable. Old ceramic work had been cleaned and put on display, alongside two names — the artists who made them, Tommy realised quickly.

And then there were the plates sat on the counter. New, slightly misshapen, and there was a box next to them, already filled with old newspaper.

“To replace the ones I broke.” You told him, when he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on him, something proud in his chest.

He hadn’t known you for nearly as long as Joel had, but god, he could recognise it in you immediately. The resemblance to his niece, just barely peeking out when you didn’t bury that part of you. He could see why Joel had gotten so… attached. Even if you didn’t resemble Sarah within your mannerisms in a way that was uncanny, you were a good kid.

Despite all the plate-throwing, name-calling, yelling and tears he’d seen from you, he knew you were good. He couldn’t blame you for your reactions, not with the way you had been left behind. And Tommy — he could understand why Joel did it, far more than you could, at least, but he recognised the pain in you.

Even if Joel did it as a result of his need to protect you, it didn’t come across like that in your eyes. From your view, he had taken the girl he knew for a couple months, and dumped you with his younger brother. He didn’t want you, didn’t care about you. It hurt. It hurt and it burnt your chest when you thought of it, and the only thing that made you feel a different kind of fire was creating your own destruction.

But this, this was different.

Tommy could see it in your face. This was such a drastic change from the girl who did everything she could to destroy what she got her hands on. This was a girl who finally got to create.

And sure, in a box in the corner of the room, there were the shattered remains of your failed attempts, but it hadn’t felt quite the same.

You thought of it this way; by throwing his and Maria’s dinnerware, you were destroying something that belonged to someone else. It was familiar to you. Trying to create the pain that caved your chest in, within another person. And yes, it was wrong, on so many levels, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted somebody to understand.

When you had taken that first circular sculpture out of the kiln, and thrown it as hard as you could, it almost… hurt. These things were an extension of you. You had shaped these with your own hands, folded them into what you saw fit, so why should you destroy them? How could you? You made them this way.

So you had hidden the rest of the failed attempts, shoved into a cupboard in the back section of the shop, and had piled up your best attempts for Tommy and Maria to take home.

“You’ve been busy,” Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as he walked his way around the old shop, noticing you had even cleaned the two-decades worth of grime from the windows. “These are good, you been working on anythin’ else?”

“Tried a mug,” You offered, shrugging, “Didn’t really go so well. Neither did the bowl.”

“Work in progress,” Tommy replied, knocking your shoulder with his elbow. “Thanks, kid. You didn’t have to.”

“Actually, Maria’s instructions.” You said, but amusement was taking over your voice as you said the words. It was true — she had told you to replace what you had broken. But you hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.

Tommy laughed, picking up the pile and placing it in the box you’d prepared, three layers of duct tape going either way across the bottom of it. “Well, it’s appreciated, anyway. You ‘round for dinner tonight?”

You shrugged again, making your way behind the counter to shuffle through some things in the back room absentmindedly, rolling your eyes when Tommy followed. You didn’t mind him or Maria hanging around as much as you used to, but you kept them at a distance.

“Come ‘round.” Tommy said then, instead, no longer posing it as a question. They’d tried to get you to move in, take up the spare room that would eventually go to their unborn child, but you’d strongly disagreed.

“You cooking? Or Maria?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you turned to look at him, leaning back against the counter.

“Maria,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes at your snicker of amusement. “She tries not to let me within ten feet of the damn oven.”

You couldn’t blame her. On the days that Tommy had brought food over to that big empty house opposite their own, it had been… an experience. Luckily for the two of you, Maria had agreed to go out on less patrols as the weeks passed by, sharing some of Tommy’s nervousness for what could happen.

“Not surprised.” You commented, a small grin on your face. You looked around the room, picking at your fingernails before you spoke up. “Hey, I was thinkin’—”

“That’s dangerous.”

You ignored him, only responding with yet another eye roll, “Get a bed in here, some drawers… could be a good spot for me.”

“Somethin’ wrong with Rancher Street?” He asked, concerned as he stood up straighter, looking around the room, not quite sure why you’d want to leave the house that provided you with plenty of space, warmth, and running water.

“No— No, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just… pretty big space for just one person, y’know?” You said, and gestured towards the door at the other side of the room, “This place has got a bathroom, anyway, so. And I mean, I always eat at yours or at the hall.”

Tommy frowned, contemplating.

Though they would’ve preferred you to have stayed in their home, Tommy and Maria relented when you had insisted on staying in that house. In the end, they had figured, what’s the harm? After all, once Joel and Ellie returned — which Tommy was sure would come, eventually, — they’d be living in that house, too.

That was the point. The house on Rancher Street was reserved for the three of you. Tommy had hoped, secretly, that you staying there, meant you wanted to fix things up, once the others returned.

You looked to him, when he was quiet for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat. “‘Spose it wouldn’t hurt. Bit of a trek from here, to ours, though.”

“Tommy, when I was…” You trailed, looking away, “I used to walk miles in a day. This short walk won’t hurt me.”

“You got a point,” He acknowledged, tipping his head forward, and ignoring your unfinished sentence. “But man, Maria’s not gonna be happy.” He thought of his wife, waddling her way over when she was near-ready to burst, and shook his head with a grin. “For you, I guess she’ll get on with it.”

“Shut up,” You said, amusement clear in your tone. “Now get outta here. I got some more fixin’ up to do.”

Tommy put his hands up in surrender, before slipping the box of plates into his hands, yelling out a, “See you later!” As he left.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a begrudgingly fond expression as you took another look around. There was a table that wouldn’t do you any good, too big, so that’d have to go. You wiped your hands against your tattered trousers, and sighed.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The lights in Jackson were warm, and filled the streets you walked through as the night slowly took over the day. It was nice, being able to see in front of you as the sky darkened. You tried not to get used to it, but knew you were settling.

It was hard not to — especially after Maria had officially declared that the shop was yours, for whatever you wanted to do with it.

You tried not to think of Boston, usually, but the last time you had had something that was truly yours, was there. It was hard to forget the things you had stashed away, hidden underneath floorboards that were concealed by the only half-decent mattress that Tess and Joel could find.

Thinking of that life was painful, especially when realising that it was unreachable. You hadn’t known it, when you’d left Boston QZ, but you would never get to return to that home that you’d built. To those things you had owned. To the family that had grown its roots in that crappy old apartment.

It was something strange, really. To think that all you had, perhaps all you ever would have, belonged to this town. You were reliant on its walls keeping you safe. At least that much was similar to life in Boston.

People were happier here, though.

You probably couldn’t include yourself in that statement, but for the most part, it was true. The streets remained lit through the dark nights, and you could go out for a walk at any time of the day, with no consequences. Which was a bit of luck, considering that Tommy and Maria always ate late on in the day.

Turning on to their street, you frowned, because the lights in the house opposite Tommy and Maria’s — the one you had yet to move out of — were turned on. And you always turned them off before you left.

You hurried into Tommy and Maria’s, shutting the door tightly behind you and kicking your shoes off in the doorway. “Guys?” You called out, hanging your coat beside the doorway and making your way toward where you heard their responding shouts in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” You asked, upon entering the room.

The glance they shared did not go unnoticed by you.

You raised your eyebrows as they looked to you, seeming almost… nervous. “Did you already tell her?” You asked Tommy, and saw the way Maria’s face immediately flashed with confusion.

“Tell me what?” She asked, turning to Tommy whilst being conscious to continue stirring whatever it was that she was cooking.

“I didn’t—”

“Then who’s in the house?” You interrupted, feeling like your stomach was sinking. You’d thought it would be strange for them to immediately place new people in the house, given that you hadn’t quite packed up the few things you had left there, and the shop wasn’t quite ready. But what other explanation was there?

“Okay, let’s just press pause for a second.” Maria said, shaking her head and looking to her husband. “What haven’t you told me?”

“Well,” He began, scratching the back of his neck, and gesturing towards you, “The shop’s lookin’ real good. And she was hoping she could, y’know, get a bed in there, and stay there.”

“So you haven’t moved new people into the house?” You asked her, feeling your stomach swoop down further as you spoke, and your mouth was going dry. “Then, does that mean—”

Tommy held a placating hand toward you, and it just told you all you needed to know.

“When?” You asked, feeling like your fingertips were burning and your chest was going to explode with how tightly it had constricted. They hesitated, so you repeated, more forcefully, “When?”

“No more than a couple hours ago.” Maria said, putting her spoon down on the counter and stepping forward, frowning when you turned away from her. “The guys on the gate spotted ‘em. Pretty banged up, but they’ll be okay. Sent them in to get some rest.”

“And you didn’t come and tell me?” You demanded, though your voice was weak and you had to hold your hand against your chest to try and steady your breathing.

“Kid, we—”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, immediately. Tommy sighed through his nose, nodding his head in something close to defeat. “I don’t want to see either of them. I’m not going in there.”

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Maria said, frowning at your expression. “You can stay here, tonight, and we can sort the shop out for you tomorrow, but…”

Tommy placed a hand against Maria’s shoulder as she trailed off, “We were thinkin’, maybe you guys could talk it out. It’s been a couple months, now.”

“What’s there to talk about?” You questioned, voice sharp and paining your throat as you spoke. “They left me behind. Think that says everything, doesn’t it?”

It was all over their faces, the fact that they wanted to say more, wanted to say something in some kind of defence of the other Miller man, but they knew you. The married couple were more than aware that anything they said would mean nothing to you. You were like Joel, in that way, Tommy had said before. Stubborn.

They nodded, almost in sync, and Maria turned back to the stove, to continue cooking as she had been before.

“Would you get my stuff for me? When you get the chance?” You asked Tommy, who nodded his head, a frown prominent on his face.

“I’ll go first thing.” He replied, secretly hoping that come morning, you’d magically want to make amends with his brother. He knew it wasn’t likely.

“Thank you.” You said, feeling like heat was crawling up your neck the longer you stood there. The fire in your stomach was fading away, just leaving you feeling uncomfortably warm as you stood in the room. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You nodded to the back door, and headed out once they acknowledged your words.

You stepped out, feeling the muggy air cool your lungs. It was colder than you’d expected, especially considering the way heat seemed to cling to everything in these parts, and you had to grind your teeth to stop the shiver that went down your spine.

It was only when Maria called to tell you dinner was ready that you stepped back inside, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and rid your skin of goosebumps.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy had moved you into the shop the very next day, constructing a makeshift bed frame from whatever wood the town could spare, and bringing a mattress from an out-of-use house. You could tell he had wanted to say something, but he held himself back.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since they had returned to Jackson. And you’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding any sight of them.

It hadn’t been difficult, in the beginning, with them taking time to rest and recover from their journey — or so Maria had told you. But it got harder as the days went on. They were beginning to explore the town, to join in on jobs, to eat where you would usually eat. It was getting annoying.

For the past few months, you’d found it so hard to live without them, but now, you realised it was much harder to live with them around. Hell, you’d even had to avoid Tommy and Maria’s on occasion, because you’d catch yourself starving before being in a room with the two of them, willingly.

Tommy had mentioned that they’d asked about you, that they’d been wondering where you were, but you didn’t need to say much for him to realise that you didn’t want them privy to any information about you. After all, they’d lost that right when they’d abandoned you here, in a town full of strangers, with no concern of what it might do to you.

You were getting angry, the longer it went on, the suspense of when you’d finally catch glimpse of them was eating you up inside. It was like life before Jackson, that feeling of being constantly on edge, of checking behind your shoulder consistently as time passed by.

It was safe to say that you weren’t happy.

You’d tried to keep yourself busy in the shop, in the little safe space in Jackson that was tucked away, belonging only to you, but things seemed tense outside of Jackson, and with Tommy taking on more patrols, Maria had been left alone an awful lot.

Tommy had asked you not to tell her, and you had absolutely no plans to, but he had asked you to hang around with her a bit more.

Partly for her own good, and mostly for his peace of mind. A little part, which he refused to tell you, was that it was also for your own good. Taking your mind off of Joel and Ellie was the best he could do for you, and this was the only way he knew how.

So, you had spent more time than you could’ve imagined at their house. Ending up falling asleep on their couch more times than you could count, with Maria insisting on waiting for Tommy to get home from his late-night patrols. He often came home to the two of you soundly asleep against the couch cushions, and you often woke up in a different position to what you fell asleep in, a blanket covering you and keeping away the slight chill.

It was one of those mornings, and you were in desperate need for a shower and some fresh clothes. You wrote a note for the two of them, knowing it was far too early for them to be up, given the way the sun was only just rising, to let them know you were going back to the shop.

Your feet were dragging with every step you took, and shuffling your jacket around your shoulders took more effort than you had expected. It was definitely going to be a long day, especially since you had promised Maria that you’d help her cook dinner later, considering she was still very against letting Tommy near the stove.

The morning air woke you up the slightest bit, but the chill of the breeze had you rubbing your hands together, regretting not bringing gloves, though you knew that later on it’d be far too warm for them.

You heard your name, and froze where you stood, hands clutched together, one foot in front of the other.

It was like your heart stopped the second you heard it, like it was being squeezed so tightly it couldn’t beat. The sensation made your chest ache, and you grit your teeth to move past the pain that had become all too familiar.

You heard him stop, his footsteps pausing as he hesitated behind you. You stood still for a moment more, before stepping away as he made a move to continue. He said your name again, trying to call you to a stop once more, but you hurried your pace, checking behind you after you had turned the corner, lucky enough to find nothing there.

A sigh escaped you, relaxing your tense shoulders just a fraction as you made a quick journey back to the shop.

You tried not to notice the anxiety balled in your chest when you finally made it. The way it was twisting up, pulling tighter on your lungs and leaving you feeling breathless as you thought too long on the slightest of interactions.

Despite not seeing his face, hearing Joel’s voice made their presence all too real, and you felt… overwhelmed. Nervous. Scared, maybe.

It was too much.

Why did they have to come back? Especially when you knew they hadn’t come back for you, but for the comforts of Jackson.

This was the only place that resembled the world before, the only place where you could feel something close to safe, and you could be comfortable. This town was a place for family, and it was clear that you didn’t have that, anymore.

Joel and Ellie had returned, but they weren’t your family. They had left you behind, to find your own way, whilst they went on an adventure of their own, creating a network of roots to settle in something close to a family of their own. You wondered if Ellie reminded Joel of his daughter, but tried to put the thought to rest as quickly as it arose.

You stepped into the shower, and tried to let the water wash away all thoughts of Joel and Ellie and family.

Later, when you stood at Maria’s side, stirring a pot on the stove as she took a moment to rest, complaining of the way her child was making her back ache. She told you about how it made her feel incredibly old, but you could see the fact that she appreciated it, as something of a reminder of the fact she was still here.

You had hummed along with her tangent, paying attention to her words but not feeling up to speaking all too much. Of course, Maria had noticed. She certainly prided herself on her observation skills.

“What’s up?” She asked softly, a strange contrast the the harsh voice she had just been speaking with as she had criticised her body for the pain it felt. Her hand was placed against the bump that has grown significantly, and you knew she was feeling maternal once again.

“It’s nothing.” You told her, because it was, wasn’t it? Joel and Ellie didn’t care about you, so why would you care about them?

“Mhm,” She hummed, raising her brows at you, “Sure it is. Got nothing to do with the two living across the street?”

You shook your head, continuing to stir the food, and tried your best to let out the sigh in your chest as a normal breath. It didn’t work, and Maria rolled her eyes at your denial of something that was so obvious. You didn’t say anything else on the matter, and couldn’t help but feel relieved when she finally let it rest. The two of you finished cooking, with you doing most of the work, and her giving all of the instructions.

But hey, you were much better than Tommy was, despite your inexperience.

It was when the door was knocked whilst you and Maria sat in their living room that you felt that tightening of your chest once again. She glanced to you, taking in the way your limbs had immediately tensed, all of your muscles straining like you weren’t sure whether to bolt, or stay completely still.

She raised a hand, telling you to wait where you were, and made her way to the front door after much groaning in her attempts to get up from the sofa cushions. You refrained from telling her that you were surprised she could manage it on her own, considering the size of her baby bump.

“Hey, Maria.” A familiar voice spoke, and your hands clenched into fists against your thighs, “Tommy in?” Joel asked, remaining outside the house.

“No, uh— he’s on a late patrol, today.” Maria responded, her voice much lighter when she spoke to Joel than it had been when the three of you had first arrived to Jackson.

“Ah,” Joel sighed, and you could hear him taking a step back on the porch, disappointment lacing his tone. It was too familiar. “Mind if I pop by, later on?” He asked, far more hopeful than you had ever heard him.

“Uh…” Maria trailed, and you knew she was looking back in the hallway, unsure if you’d be staying overnight. The wooden floorboards of the porch creaked as Joel stepped forward again, and you heard Maria shushing him as you clenched your teeth together. “Not now, Joel. It’s not a good time. I’ll tell Tommy to stop by yours.”

He sighed, and it was like you were back in Boston, with how heavy he sounded.

It was the same way he would sigh when you got too excited over something, like he was disappointed. Back then, you had thought it had been because he couldn’t guarantee anything for you. Now, you had no idea. You had always believed you had known him and Tess almost too well, but over the past few months, you realised just how wrong you were. Back in Boston, if someone had told them what would happen when you arrived in Jackson, you would’ve laughed in their face. Would’ve been so certain that Joel would never leave your side. You had no idea how wrong you were.

You swallowed, your throat feeling tight, and your tongue feeling like it was too big for your mouth as you heard the door shut, and Maria rounded the corner with a tight smile on her face.

With your heart pounding, you looked at her where she stood, and stopped her just before she could sit down, blurting: “Can you cut my hair?”

Her surprise was evident, but Maria nodded her head, and you tried to breathe through the pain in your lungs as you followed her to the kitchen.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was week four, and Joel was getting antsy.

Every time he sat down, he found his fingers tapping an unknown rhythm against his trousers, his legs bouncing up and down as he nervously scanned the room, as though you’d appear from around the corner at any second. Of course, it never happened.

Each time he arrived back to the house on Rancher Street, Ellie’s head perked up, the most hopeful he’d seen her since before winter, and he had to shake his head. Had to watch her expression fall.

When he had seen you leaving Tommy and Maria’s, far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, something had risen in his chest. He knew it was stupid, that he was a fool for thinking you might speak to him after what he did, but he had hoped so badly that you might just understand.

It was the closest he had been to you in weeks, and he hadn’t even managed to see your face up close, had only just about seen a glimpse of it when you had dragged yourself from Tommy’s porch. The moment he had gotten close enough to reach for you, you had bolted, leaving his hand halfway raised into the air as he stared after you, wondering if he should follow you, or let you go.

When he’d arrived at Tommy and Maria’s one evening, hoping to talk to Tommy about his anxieties, he’d found something else. They were shielding you.

And yes, he had asked them to protect you, had trusted them with something he had never even fully trusted himself with, but god. Joel had never expected that they would protect you from him.

But now, here he was, standing in front of an old shop that had likely seen better days, two decades ago. Ellie was by his side, her hand gripping the sleeve of his coat tightly, before she released it to knock loudly against the shop door.

He had half-expected for you to not answer.

Seeing your face, properly, for the first time in months was not the moment Joel had hoped for it to be. Not when your expression had immediately fallen from something of confusion to anger, to something defensive.

“Hi.” Joel breathed, feeling like he should really kick himself for the pathetic attempt at a greeting. Ellie was close to trembling at his side, trying to stay indifferent, but even from the corner of his eye he could see that hope rising in her expression.

“What do you want?” You snapped at them, wanting nothing more than to close the door in their faces, to slam it shut and lock it, to never open it again. But you refrained, something in your chest balling tighter, but you couldn’t help the desire that arose for something. An explanation, maybe. A good enough reason for you to forgive them, perhaps.

Joel jumped in before Ellie could, saying, “Plates!” He saw Ellie’s head whip towards him, a dumbfounded expression painted across her face. He watched you blink in surprise, and saw your expression go towards indifference as you huffed, and moved away from the door, allowing him to push it open a bit more, pulling Ellie in with him. She closed it behind her.

The silence lingers as you busy yourself with fortifying a box, feeling bitterness creeping up your throat. You thought about why they needed plates, and could not grind your teeth together, somewhat hoping that the scratches and dents in the kitchen counters couldn’t be fixed.

“Listen,” Your head snapped up to him, knowing what came next, and saw the way he backed down, the word kid dying on his lips. He cleared his throat as you went back to taping the cardboard box. “We were hopin’… that, uh, we could all have a talk. Clear things up.”

“I don’t know, Joel,” You began, the bitterness falling off of your tongue with every word, “You guys leaving seemed clear enough to me.”

He hated how much older you sounded.

“We left because we had to, not because we wanted to.” Joel defended, immediately, feeling the hope that had been flickering in his chest for the past four weeks sputter out.

“I remember trying to come with you,” You said offhandedly, keeping your eyes on the cardboard box as you put the final third piece of duct tape across the bottom. “You said: ‘me and Ellie. Not you.’ Remember?”

Ellie’s expression fell further, somehow, and Joel gaped for a moment, flashing back to the way your own face had fallen at his words.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said your name, almost like a plead, and frowned when you just turned to go towards the back side of the room, beside a closed door. You ignored it, collecting some of the better looking plates that had been stacked up there. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you never asked for any of this.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you. That’s what I wanted. No matter what might’ve happened, I just wanted to be with you two. You took that from me.” You said, voice harsher than Joel had ever heard it, even from when he and Tess had first taken you in. Remembering that version of you was painful, because he saw no resemblance within the you that stood before him.

Ellie spoke up then, her eyebrows furrowed inwards as she became something far too close to angry as she said your name, “You have no idea what we’ve been through—”

“You’re right.” You cut her off, placing the stack of plates in the cardboard box with a loud thud, “I don’t. And who’s fault is that?”

You looked between the two of them, as if you were expecting the answer, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were so grown up, and he couldn’t understand it. It had only been a few months.

At their silence, you scoffed, and shoved the box towards them, watching as Joel instinctively shot his hand out to prevent it from falling off of the edge of the counter. He took the box, feeling like it was far too heavy for what it was, but perhaps that was just the conversation.

“I want you guys to go now.” You said, firm, despite the way your voice tried to shake. You wouldn’t let your voice tremor, not in front of them. Not when they didn’t deserve your devastation.

Joel’s face fell, a common theme in each of your recent interactions, and couldn’t help the way he felt sick to his stomach. All those months ago, you had been asking to leave with them, and now here you were, looking at him with eyes that he didn’t recognise, telling him to leave.

“Come on, Ellie.” He said reluctantly, turning away from where you stood, chin held high.

“No!” Ellie replied loudly, her lip trembling as she looked between you and Joel, like she was expecting something to magically repair the rift between you. Unfortunately, this world was real, and it was ugly, and you weren’t sure that fixing things was even possible. “We— We can’t just give up.” She said, pleadingly, looking to Joel to fix things, like she was so used to him doing.

But Joel knew that this was something he couldn’t fix so easily. “We’re not giving up.” He responded then, training his gaze on you, where your eyebrows had furrowed and you had turned your face away from them.

“You should.” You told him, your own trembling lip matching Ellie’s, before you turned away fully, making the short few steps and entering the back room, shutting the door tightly behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You asshole!” You yelled, the moment you saw Tommy stood in the kitchen doorway of his home, with him having turned to face you at the sound of his front door slamming open. He looked confused, but you didn’t fall for that expression, even as he said your name in an even more confused tone.

You stormed over to him, pushing your hands against his chest and feeling him take a bracing step back, not stopping you. He held his hands up by his side, surrendering once again, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from stinging with tears.

“How could you fucking do that to me?” You asked almost desperately, pushing your palm against his shoulder again, and then you felt Maria step around him, place a hand toward you that you flinched back from.

“Do what?” Tommy questioned, dumbfounded, and holding a hand up toward Maria, who backed off at your blatant dismissal of comfort.

“Tell them about my shop!”

Tommy’s face became one of realisation, and Maria whacked a hand against his chest. He immediately looked guilty a moment after the realisation, and held his hands out towards you.

“I let it slip, I know, but I didn’t realise he’d noticed. I swear, I wouldn’t tell him that purposely. He came ‘round?” Tommy spoke, frowning when you took a step away from his hands as they reached for you. He couldn’t help but feel like Joel had unravelled all the trust he had built with you, and his frustration grew at the second realisation of the evening. You could only nod in response, your expression a mixture of anger and devastation. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t mean for that. Joel wants to fix things up, yeah, but—”

“Fix things? Tommy, how could he fix things?” You asked, your volume raising immediately as you cut him off. “Joel— He knew everything about me, and he chose to leave. He left me willingly! That isn’t… every time I see myself, I see those parts that he rejected. How do you fix that? Tell me how you fix that, and I’ll fucking do it, Tommy, but I can’t figure it out. How can you fix that? How can you forgive that?”

You were yelling, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything you had built in Jackson was shattering like those stupid plates in that stupid kitchen. Tears were falling down your face, and Tommy blurred away as your eyes continued to fill with them. It felt never ending, this whole situation did. How did you fix this? Could you?

“I don’t know.” Tommy admitted, feeling like his heart could tear from his chest as he looked at you, your breaths shaking as you tried to get through sobs, your face covered in tears, chest heaving. “But we’re going to figure this out. We’ve got you.”

He moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders when he realised you’d let him. He felt your arms tremble as they wrapped around him, and he stared past your head as he took notice of Joel frowning in the still-open doorway. They shared a look, and Tommy gave Joel an all too familiar expression, one that he used to give when Sarah would be upset. Too upset for anybody else but Joel to be present.

It felt strange, to Joel, not only to be on the receiving end of the look, but because it was concerning you. But what was he meant to do? How could he fix it?

Joel frowned, nodding at his younger brother, and closed their front door as he turned away, breathing out a sigh that felt far too heavy. He needed to figure this out.

“Come on,” Tommy said, after a few moments, when he was certain you hadn’t noticed Joel closing the door. He led you over to the sofa where Maria was waiting, and when you collapsed next to her, they held you between them until you fell asleep, face still wet from tears. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke, quietly, despite knowing you were asleep. He was half saying it to himself and Maria, too. They needed the reassurance just as much as you did.

Tommy decided then, that when you woke up in the morning, he would do his best to help you figure everything out. And as he shared a look with Maria, he knew that she’d be there, helping right at his side.

PART THREE

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller father figure #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller angst #tommy miller father figure #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #tlou angst #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #heartpascal writes

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eufezco · 1 year

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SUMMARY - you're a little jealous of Tess.

a little smut at the end(?? english isn't my first language <33

"You know it's very obvious, right?" You heard Frank talk behind you. Even though Bill and Frank insisted that it was not necessary for you to do the dishes, you insisted on helping them. They prepared this delicious meal for you three and there was no way you were leaving without doing something for them in return. In front of you was the window from which you could see Tess and Joel still sitting at the table. The day was sunny and Joel's golden skin was glowing in the sunlight. You tried to concentrate on scrubbing the plates but you could feel his eyes on you and you couldn't help but look at him back. Tess was talking to him while he finished eating.

"Don't tell her that when it's not, Frank." Bill joined you two in the kitchen.

"No, but it is, Bill. It's in the way you look at him, you know? Your eyes do that thing and your lips curve up a bit. Not in like a big smile but in like an I'm-so-in-love-with-you one."

"It's not obvious, Frank's just dramatic. Don't worry."

"I'm just saying it's noticeable."

"What are you even talking about?" You dried your hands and turned around so you could see them both.

"You and Joel." Frank stated.

"He wants nothing to do with me, okay?"

"Oh, so he knows."

"I wish he didn't, but yes, he knows."

"Why?"

"Frank-"

"I tried to kiss him."

"You did what?"

"Oh, fuck."

"It's her fault! She likes him too and they're like super close but he only sees her as a friend. If he wasn't so worry about hurting her feelings, I could have him. He told me that." You turned around to the sink again. You grabbed a glass and started scrubbing violently. Your eyes moved from the sink to the window and back, the smirk Joel had on his lips while talking with Tess was getting on your nerves.

"So he feels the same way about you."

"At least he did a week ago. I found her in his bed a couple of days ago. She was fucking big spooning him, Frank, can you believe that?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

"I'm sure it's not only about Tess." Bill intervened in the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"Tess told me he lost people. He's obviously scared of forging a bond with you beyond friendship because he doesn't know what tomorrow may be like and if he could lose you as well."

"Shit... how do you know that? Did he tell you?"

"He knows because he was just like that." Frank answered for him.

You sighed. "I'm so jealous of you two."

You went back to the yard and sat with Tess and Joel at the table. They were discussing whether they should agree to do business with Bill and Frank. You couldn't care less about what your two friends were talking about. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, hearing their conversation but mostly enjoying the fresh air of the sunset hitting your skin. You were the one that connected over the radio with them. Luckily it was Frank the one that got your message, if it was Bill you wouldn't be sitting there, with your stomach full of the most exquisite food you'd ever tried and feeling the freshly cut grass under your feet.

"I am spending the night here."

The two of them stopped talking. Tess looked at Joel to see his reaction and Joel shook his head immediately. "The three of us are going back to the QZ."

"No. I'm staying here. FEDRA won't know that I'm gone, I don't have work tomorrow."

Joel threw a quick glance at Bill and Frank inside the house. He had been very hesitant the two times you'd met with them, still not trusting enough the two men to leave you alone with them. Even though he knows that you'd spent hours talking with Frank on the radio. You rolled your eyes when you realized it was because of them. "Oh, come on."

"No. No 'Oh, come on.' You're coming with us. Tell them we really appreciate this nice meal, everything was delicious but we should leave before it gets dark-" He said as he got up from the table. Tess was quick to lay one of her hands on top of Joel's. She called his name and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat down on his chair again.

"Stay here with her. I will go back to the QZ." Tess knew that it was impossible to change your mind. She was already trying to find other options that would please Joel. That was much easier.

"I have work to do in the morning."

"I'll cover you. You'll be fine."

Joel huffed, looking at you and running a hand through his face. You smiled at him, victorious, but he was upset at your attitude. You truly did not see how dangerous it was, not only for FEDRA to find you out of the QZ, but also for you to stay at some random dudes' house?

"Let us know over the radio when you arrive."

"This is so nice. We could never go back to the QZ." You said letting yourself fall onto the bed and sighing. Joel closed the door behind him and left his gun on the nightstand, a place where it would be within reach in case he needed to use it. He sat on the bed, starting to question why he didn't drag you back to the QZ. "I'm serious Joel, we could stay here. There are enough houses, you can choose the one you like the most and we could-"

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" You held your body up with your elbows and your eyebrows came together after hearing Joel talking to you like that. He turned his body slightly towards you so he could make eye contact. "Sometimes I don't know if you mean what you say or if you just spit out every fucking thought that goes through your head."

"What is this all about? Why are you so determined to go back to the QZ? Is it because of her?"

Joel huffed and got up from the bed. "You are- This is unbelievebable."

"Or is it because you have so much to lose there? It would be a pity if you did not come back, Joel. Everyone would miss you so much."

Joel ran his hand through his face out of desperation. He paced around the room while you talked. You rolled your eyes, letting your body fall on the mattress again. "So it is because of her."

"She's my family! Of course it's because of her!" He yelled at you, approaching you with a threatening attitude. You got up from the bed and as angry as he was, you asked him.

"And what am I? Am I not your family?" You clenched your jaw.

Joel chuckled and massaged his temples. "I didn't say that." Anger quickly crept back into his body, one of his fingers pointed at you, and his other hand rested on his waist. "You do not get to twist my words in that way!"

"Seriously, Joel? That's the only problem you see here? Because the real issue is that you don't have enough balls to tell her the truth and that's the only reason why things are working this bad for us!"

"Oh please, if you could act like a fucking adult for once in your life and have a little empathy..."

"I can't do that! I just can't do that because if I don't think of myself who will? Will you do it? Because we have already seen that you won't!"

He couldn't believe what you were saying. Joel closed his eyes while you talked and clenched his jaw to the point it hurt. "I think about you! You are my priority! Every hour of the day, you are my priority! From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I go to sleep at night-"

"You're always so worried about how she may feel about us, but what about me? How do you think this situation makes me feel?"

"I'm pretty sure it makes you feel the same way it makes me feel."

You huffed a laugh and then you rolled your eyes at him. You walked past him to leave the room. "No. You are not going anywhere. I'm not done talking." Joel grabbed your arm and kept you from opening the door. His grip on your arm brought you face-to-face with him. He wanted to keep arguing with you, he still had a lot of things to say, but at that moment both of your breaths were deep as a result of the agitated discussion and they mixed to the point of becoming one. Joel cupped both of your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. Your back hit the door, causing Bill and Frank who were on the other side listening to jump backward.

"Oh, fuck..." You sighed and your hands caressed his broad shoulders and slid down to his chest. He was beautiful, your hands couldn't get enough of him. After caressing the freckles that decorated his skin and the scars on his chest, your hands moved to his belly and quickly slipped into his pants. Joel gasped against your lips, and a playful smirk appeared in yours right before he kissed you again to quiet his own sounds.

"We should-" Frank said after being able to hear the wet sounds of the kiss and your sweet hums through the door.

"Yes." Bill agreed with him inmediatly.

The next morning you woke up between Joel's arms, your legs tangled with his and Joel's gentle breathing enticing you to stay in bed instead of going to have breakfast. You shifted in place, careful enough to not wake him up. You slid his big t-shirt over your head and stole from him the pajama pants that Bill and Frank had lent him.

Frank's eyes sparkled as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen. "You have to tell us everything right now." He moved back a chair so you could sit next to him while Bill placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of you and you smiled at him in gratitude. You bit your lower lip, trying to hide how happy you were and Frank huffed a laugh "You bitch. It was good."

You nodded, taking a sip from your cup. The smile never leaving your lips. "It was amazing. He is so rough yet so soft, just like I told you I thought he would be. His hands are- ugh, so magical, and his lips are so good that I can still feel them. And his d-"

"We don't need all those details, thank you." Bill rushed to say, sitting at the table with you. Interested in what you were saying but not that interested.

"Oh yes, we need them." Frank huffed another laugh, seeing your devilish expression wanting to go on with what you had started.

"No, you don't." Joel's said entering the kitchen with his deep morning voice.

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coffeeshades · 1 year

Text

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED

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

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

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

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

here’s part two!

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

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I've got nowhere else to be."

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

"You two should date."

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

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

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

"What does that even mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How'd you know that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

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

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

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

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

"I think you're correct."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

reblog or like if you enjoyed it!

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

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alt-vera · 1 year

Text

— don’t take the girl ⁀➷

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

when faced with a life-threatening choice, joel miller makes a surprising confession.

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☆ | joel miller | 1.5k | ❛ don’t take the girl - tim mcgraw ❜

warnings: fluff. slight angst. lowkey soft!joel miller. murder. kissing. age gap.

❝ take the very breath you gave me, take the heart from my chest. i’ll gladly take her place if you’ll let me, make this my last request. take me out of this world, god please, don’t take the girl ❞

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

HE DIDN’T MEAN TO BECOME SO ATTACHED.

　Joel could remember the very first minute he met you. The shade of the alleyway casting a low tone over your soft features, a small scrape on your cheek just below your eye.

　Tess had taken you in, explaining that you were the daughter of an old friend from way before all the chaos and destruction. That she remembered meeting you when you were just a baby, barely cooing out words with small chubby fingers that wrapped around her own. That you’d lost your mom a while ago, and had no one else. That you’d been on a mission to find Tess for a long time.

　He didn’t like you at first. Thought you were too soft. It annoyed him how persistent you were, always hovering around him and Tess. Always there. He didn’t like how young you were, and he was convinced that you’d somehow fuck up one of their deals if you were there, or that you’d somehow get killed in the process. Or worse, get him killed.

　It wasn’t until he saw you in action that he gave in a bit. Saw how you’d really survived all those years on your own. Saw how you ripped yourself free from a raider on one of their trips out of the QZ, how you’d so effortlessly pulled your knife across the taut skin of the raiders throat, blood splattering onto the soft apples of your cheeks as you watched the man fall, no emotion crossing those deep eyes of yours that always seemed so expressive. They were blank in that moment, as if you had watched a man’s life leave his body a million times. As if you were used to it.

　He couldn’t believe how you’d smiled at him so softly that same night while a fire flickered between the two of you, mere hours after the whole scene. How could you still be so sweet after killing a man as if it were plain sailing?

　He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to a darker place. How many people had you killed?

　He didn’t like to think about such a kind young woman slashing a man as if he were a bug she were squishing.

　After that, he began letting you come on runs with him.

　It was supposed to be a routine mission in the city, grabbing supplies and trades at a drop point to smuggle back into the QZ. Neither of you were expecting a struggle, not to mention an ambush, but in the world you lived in the unexpected always seemed to happen.

　Inside the drop point, which was an abandoned warehouse, rotting and dilapidated, you’d let your guard down. Your gun was placed on an old crate as you poked around while Joel, only a few feet away from you, checked to make sure everything that had been promised was delivered.

　You didn’t see the man coming up behind you, didn’t hear his uneven breaths or the crunching of old glass beneath his feet.

　He grabbed your arm, nearly tearing your shoulder out of it’s socket as he pulled you like a shield across his chest. The cold barrel of his pistol pressed against your temple, his grip like iron, bruising your supple skin.

　Joel heard the struggle and whipped around instantly, eyes wild and frantic as he held his gun out in front of him, not sure where to aim that wouldn’t get you shot in the crossfire.

　“Put your gun down!” The man behind you screamed, his voice so loud that your ear drums rang. You watched everything in slow-motion as Joel carefully put his rifle down, raising his hands as he did so. A stray bead of perspiration ran down your spine.

　“Just let her go, n’we can talk,” Joel attempted to reason, but was met with silence broken by the mans ragged breaths as he pressed the gun further into your temple, the metal creating a building pressure in your head, leaving an imprint in its wake.

　“There’s no talking here,” The man spat, “Someone ripped me off. I don’t know who it was, but somebody here is paying for it. It’s either you or the girl, old man. You choose.”

　Your pulse quickened as your eyes trained on Joel, who’s face wrinkled as he tried to figure out some sort of solution. You tried to speak with your eyes, tried to tell him that it was okay. That he could get out of here and take the stuff back to the QZ, and leave you to your fate. You were fine with it.

　But Joel wasn’t. “I’ll take her place, if you’ll let me,” He said quietly, his words slicing through you. “Just please, don’t take the girl.”

　You wanted to scream at him, but you stayed quiet, lips locked shut and body shaking with fear and adrenaline.

　You heard the gunshot, and your eyes closed on impact. You only inched them open when you felt the pressure on your head leave, and heard the sound of a body hit the floor. When your eyelids lifted, there stood Joel, small handgun that was presumably in his back pocket resting with it’s aim towards the floor, his hands shaking.

　You slowly looked to the ground beside you, and there laid your assailant, blooding and bits of brain pooling on the concrete around him with a fresh hole in his forehead. The gun that had been so dangerous in his hands only moments ago now laid slackly in his limp palm.

　“Goddamn it!” You could faintly hear Joel yell, his words falling on deaf ears. “See this—This is what i was worried about.”

　Joel was in front of you in an instant, rough hands cupping your cheeks as he examined you for any sort of injury, eyes lingering on the crisp indent from the barrel that stayed on your temple.

　“I thought i’d lose you,” He breathed out softly, anger leaving the bones of his body, hot air fanning your face as he fought to calm down his anxiety. He pulled you into him, surprising you as he wrapped his arms around you in a bone-crushing hug.

　Your voice was muffled against the flannel of his shirt. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

　“I’d have traded places with you in an instant.” His words were heavy against the shell of you ear, and you pulled away from his grasp, eyes studying him carefully. There was no denying the terror that still lingered in the dark hue of his iris’, and how deep his worry lines were creased as he frowned down at you.

　“You’re around so much that I—I can’t imagine what it’d be like if you weren’t,” He continued, “Don’t want to.”

　“I would’ve given him everything i had,” He carried on, “Would’ve given him the damn heart out of my chest if it meant he’d take my life instead’a yours.”

　You figured this was Joel’s messed up version of a confession. So, without words, you kissed him, and he deepened it with long buried affection and protectiveness. Two things you didn’t think Joel Miller was capable of.

　“Let’s get out’f here,” He said after he had pulled away. His words brought you back into the atmosphere, struggling to tame your wildly beating heart as you remembered the dangerous predicament you could potentially still be in. “Don’t know if it was just him, or if there’s more.”

　You nodded, taking one of the duffle bags of supplies onto your shoulders. It made you lean to the side slightly from the weight, and a rare chuckle escaped Joel’s lips. He took the bag from your shoulder, putting both onto one arm and slinging his rifle onto the other.

　“I got it,” He said, “Jus’ watch my six.”

　During the trip back to the QZ, it seemed as if nothing had changed between the two of you. But it did. There was a newfound tension in the air, one that spoke of the kiss you shared in the warehouse, and how Joel would lay his life on the line for you. It sparked with the electricity of intimacy and a fucked up version of love.

　It was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that neither of you would tell Tess about what had happened. About the ambush, or the kiss. But you and Joel would know. You and Joel would know that there was now some sort of feelings between the two of you. A new connection that would be acted upon on late nights and moments alone together. The kind that was shared within knowing looks and small grins to one another. Fleeting touches when no one’s watching, and memorized whispered pleas of trading your life for his.

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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

Note

Can you write a one shot with Daddy Pascal? They have an age gap of 20 years and she’s super nervous to go public with him cause she’s afraid that his fans won’t like her? And he comfort her

A/n: hell yes I can, and hopefully you'll like this. Also this gif is freaking hot.

Pairing: Pedro Daddy Pascal x reader

second part || Masterlist

--------------------

"It's not that easy."

"It is." Pedro stood closer to you. "I just want to be able to call you mine in public."

You sighed, gnawing on the peeling skin of your lips, something you do when nervous. "I.. I can't."

"What?"

"I can't, I'm sorry.. I just.. I can't. Not now."

Pedro couldn't believe his ears. Both of you have been together for two years, and this has been the one thing Pedro wanted. But he kept it a secret for you, because of the age gap, because he knew you weren't ready.

But now after two years.. you're still not ready.. so what now?

---

That conversation was a week ago. Pedro got pretty upset after that, wouldn't really call you when he's on break, wouldn't tell you if he's coming home, wouldn't call you pet names -- but you understood. Pedro was justifiably upset, but you didn't think it was a good idea to go public at the moment. And it's all because of-

Pedro shut the door with a soft thud and was surprised to see you lying on the couch on your phone.

"Hey. You're still awake?" He asked, though you're obviously still are.

"Yeah, I was just browsing social media." You gave him a little smile.

Pedro nodded and proceeded to go to your shared room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes did not go unnoticed by you, and the way he was walking tells you he was probably from a nightclub.

It's not like you two had to report your location or schedule at all times, but usually going to a nightclub is something you tell your partner.

You shook your head, not wanting to overthink it, but your thoughts kept coming back to it, and so you followed him to the bedroom and asked him.

"Were you out clubbing?"

Pedro sighed and undressed, ready to go shower. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing with some coworkers. Sorry I forgot to tell you."

"'S okay." You offered another small smile.

Ignored. Pedro walked past you to the bathroom.

As he was showering, you wondered how you should talk to Pedro about going public. It's not like you didn't want to, but have you seen the amount of fans Pedro has?

The amount of people that call him daddy, that make edits of his movies, his interviews? The amount of people who love him?

And if they find out that he's dating someone who's about 20 years younger than he is, what would happen to him? Would he be accused of grooming? Would his fans understand?

You didn't realize how long you've been standing at the same spot until Pedro gently touched your back after his shower.

"Cariño, are you feeling okay?"

Cariño.

You looked at him and exhaled. "Can we talk?"

Pedro had a feeling he knew what you wanted to say. He sighed and sat on the bed, with only his damp towel hugging his waist.

"So, have you decided I'm too old for you?"

You frowned, "what?"

"Let me guess, it's been fun but you want to find someone who's closer to your age? Or is it because you realized this lifestyle isn't for you?"

You felt a little hurt. Did Pedro really think you're going to break up with him because of this? "Pedro, I'm not breaking up with you."

"Then what is it? I've been holding back mentioning your name during interviews when they ask me if I have someone I love, and yes, I do - It's you! I love you, so so much. I want to be able to bring you to places, show you off - I know it's probably a lot to ask, but cariño... I.." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.

He was obviously frustrated, and this was mostly the aftermath of the alcohol talking. You sat next to him and held his hand.

"I'm scared." You admitted.

"Cariño-"

"Do you know how many videos of you are out there? Ones that your fans make, some even edit them from interviews from years ago. Or how many fanfictions there are of you? Or just the amount of fans you have that worship you day and night?"

You looked at him, worry in your eyes. "They all love you and look up to you so much, and so do I. I don't want to.. to ruin your life because we're going public. We have a huge age gap between us, that doesn't normally sit well with people."

"I also want to show everyone you're mine.. you know how ugly jealous I get when I see some of your costars flirting with you on the red carpet." You placed a hand on his cheek.

Pedro chuckled, leaning into your touch. "I guess I hadn't thought about that part.."

He pulled you closer to sit on his lap, his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. "But I still want to. If they're really my fans, they'll understand. And yes, our age gap is.. pretty big, but I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."

"You are.. mi amor, mi vida. And I'd do anything to be with you." He kissed you softly.

You ran your hands through his hair, and they rested on his neck. "Okay."

"Okay?" You could hear the excitement in his voice.

"Okay." You nodded, reassuring him.

He gave you the biggest grin he had as he hugged you and pulled you both to lay down on the bed, laughing while he was at it.

"Then it's decided. You're coming to the next red carpet with me. As mine."

----

A/n: my crush on this man is starting to feel dangerous.

second part

#daddy pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales #romance #joel miller #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #tlou #fluff #angst #request fic #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal tlou #javier pena #oberyn martell #rpf

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avenging-fandoms · 1 year

Text

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

***some links do not work :( please inbox me if you need help navigating a fic!

SMUT:

Call Him Daddy

All for Me?

Soft Lover

Mando's Kinks

Friends with Benefits on Narcos

Trying for a Baby

Fingered to Tears

Degrading

Fucking Enemies

Cowboy Hat Rule - Agent Whiskey

Obsessed - Javier Pena

The First Time - Din Djarin

My Toy - Din Djarin

Inexperienced - Oberyn Martell

Punished - Joel Miller

FLUFF:

Movies and Edibles

Rain at the beach

Pretty

Stay with Me

New Years

Pretty Boy

Southern Accent

Proud

Accidentally Spotted

Welcome Home

Spanish

Cleaning his Glasses

Admiration

I'm Home!

Wink Wink

I'll Keep You Warm

Bad Day

Physical Touch

Unexpected Christmas Together

Nervous Mistletoe

Costume Change

Sugar Daddy

Drunk in Love

Power's out

Do I Look Pretty? - Dad!Pedro

New Neighbor - Agent Whiskey

Home - Marcus Moreno

Cat's Out of the Bag - Marcus Moreno

Sleepy - Din Djarin

First Kiss - Din Djarin

I Love You - Din Djarin

In This Together - Din Djarin

A Well Needed Hug - Din Djarin

You Can Stay - Javier Pena

Is This Your Shirt? - Javier Pena

Dating - Joel Miller

First Kiss - Joel Miller

Oh Baby - Joel Miller

Oh Baby - Joel Miller - Part 2

Nicknames - All Characters

ANGST:

Lasso - Agent Whiskey

Helping Hand - Din Djarin

Save me - Joel Miller

Memories - Part 1

Memories - Part 2

MISC.:

Husband!Pedro moodboard

Instagram

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talaok · 1 year

Text

At the Met

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actress! reader

summary: You and Pedro, Hollywood's hottest couple, attend the Met Gala together, but when you find out your ex was invited too, things start going sideways.

warning: angst, jealousy, age-gap

a/n: this was a request by the lovely @vawnila but since I am delusional, I decided to merge it with yesterday's event bc this man...

Pt. 2

[ "And here they come! y/n y/l/n and Pedro Pascal, Hollywood's hottest couple!"

"wow, they look amazing" ]

You'd been to the Met before, and so had Pedro, but going as a couple was something much different, especially with all the talk you two had caused in the last six months. There wasn't a magazine or a blog that wasn't talking about your age gap or the way you'd both robbed millions of women and men of the chance to be with Hollywood's most desired bachelor and bachelorette.

The past few months had been a mess, and still, you didn't think you'd ever had that much fun.

Pedro was everything you had ever wished for in a man. he was kind and sweet and funny, and not any less handsome, he was perfect.

So when he took your hands in his as you walked up the carpet, you couldn't help but smile up at him, just for him to meet your glance with the same adoration.

The carpet was the easy part though, what actually scared you, was the dinner.

Being seated next to a bunch of celebrities you didn't know... that was your personal version of hell, but at least this year Pedro was gonna be next to you.

The first part of the dinner went well, the first moments were awkward as you had expected, but then the woman sitting opposite you broke the ice and everyone seemed to relax.

Pedro sensed your tension at times and tried to soothe you by placing his hand on your thigh, or murmuring something to your ear that most times resembled something like "We're almost done, sweetheart".

It was a good table, don't get me wrong, but there was something about knowing you were being watched and filmed and photographed by the world's most popular celebrities that always prevented you from fully calming down.

You were always on edge, only waiting for something bad to happen, until finally, your fear came to life.

You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and were finding your way through the maze made of chairs and tables arranged in the room, when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey baby"

wait a minute,

you knew that voice.

You turned around, "Hi Nathan"

Of course you'd meet your ex here.

"Funny meeting you here" he grinned

"I had no idea you were coming"

"Neither did I about you, darling," he said, his eyes traveling up and down your body, not even pretending to not be checking you out "You're beautiful as ever" he complimented, his fingers tracing the side of your dress, and you just smiled, rolling your eyes playfully "really" he spoke, his voice lower "You're breathtaking, baby"

"thank you" You felt your cheeks get some involuntary color "You're not so bad yourself, you know?"

"why thank you" he joked "I wanted to find someone to have some fun with, but I think I might just have"

"Nathan..."

"What princess?"

You sighed "You can use my name y'know?"

"oh I know" he reassured "I just know how much you like when I call you names" he murmured, getting closer as he moved some hair away from your face "especially on some occasions"

"Nathan what are you d-"

"c'mon y/n you know what you mean to me," he said, his voice already resembling a beg "I'm not asking for anything, I'm just saying you know we could have fun... like the old times"

"Nathan I-"

"y/n I love you" he confessed, not for the first time since the breakup "You know I love you. I love you so much I can't live without you. This past year has been hell, and I know it's been the same for you. I need you y/n, and you need me, baby, we need each other." he spoke seemingly without taking a single breath, and you were frantically looking around you, praying no one was paying you two any mind "and I know you love me back, just admit it, we could start all over again, just forget all about the past" he implored.

"Nathan I have a boyfriend" you spat out

"who, that grandpa?" he mocked "I know you don't love him, he's just a-a phase, you know you should be with me. Deep down you know"

You hadn't noticed how his hand had made its way to your arm.

"Let's go now, we can take my car and run away baby"

Your mouth gaped open but before you could speak, a barking voice intervened.

"go where?"

Your eyes traveled to your left, and just as you suspected, they met Pedro's.

Nathan, like the coward that he was, swallowed nervously as he looked back at you.

"nowhere," you said "Don't worry babe" you tried being casual, as you took a step toward your boyfriend, feeling grateful for a way out of that situation "Well it was nice seeing you Nathan, but I better go now," you forced a polite smile at him, as you intertwined your arm with your boyfriend's.

"goodbye buddy," Pedro said, in a more than slightly threatening tone.

"c'mon," you urged him, starting to walk away.

"think about what I said" Nathan spoke again, his tone deprived of all bravery all of a sudden.

You didn't even look back, just started to quicken your pace towards the table (Your need to use the bathroom had been long forgotten) when you felt Pedro tightening his arm's grip as he moved you into the trajectory of a private part of the gallery.

You frowned, once he stopped, looking around at the empty room.

"what is it?"

"What is it?" he repeated, clearly incredulous

"What?"

"What did he tell you?"

"Who"

"y/n..."

"Nathan?" you asked "Babe who cares, you know how he is, he's dumb, there's nothing I can do about it"

"tell me what he told you" you could see perfectly through this calm act.

You sighed "he told me he loves me and that I should run away with him"

"that's it?"

"Yes Pedro, that's it"

"What did you say?"

You gasped, offended and slightly annoyed "What do you think I told him, that I loved him back and to wait for me outside?!"

"What did you tell him?"

"Are you fuckin- I told him that I have a boyfriend"

He nodded perhaps satisfied "He was touching you"

"my arm" you reminded him.

"and your cheek" he reminded you too "this is the last time he does this" he decided "I'm gonna go talk to him"

"No, Pedro-" you grabbed his arm "I can deal with this on my own, plus, you're too mad, you can't go now"

"You've already dealt with this on your own, and it doesn't seem like you've made much progress"

You gasped, now actually mad "This is my problem, Pedro, you don't have anything to do with it"

"It's my problem too when it involves you"

"no, it's not."

"y/n I'm trying to help you"

"well I don't want your help, not with this"

"Why? 'cause it sure looks like you need it"

You scowled at him "fuck you"

"It's the truth y/n this guy's been bothering you since before we got together, that's not fucking normal"

"I know it isn't but I'm dealing with it in my own way"

"and I can't try my way?"

"well, I'm sorry if I don't want you to go out there and punch him, Pedro!"

He paused, clearly as a part of him wanted to reply that he wouldn't have, another part informed him that there was a high probability he would have, in fact, punched the guy.

"y/n-"

"no you know what, I'm tired of this- this thing you do. I don't need to be saved, I can take care of myself"

"I don't doubt that, but I just wanted to help"

"you know you were not gonna help Pedro" You shot him a look "And I'm tired of this- jealousy" you sighed "I love you, Pedro, you know that, but if you don't trust me I don't understand how we could possibly have a relationship"

"I do trust you"

"then I could go out there and talk to Nathan right now?" you challenged "or you fear he might convince me, and I might run away with him?"

His jaw twitched.

"see" you breathed "just as I predicted"

" y/n-"he tried putting his hands on your waist but you stopped him.

"no, Pedro" you took a step back "Just-" you sighed "I need to be alone"

[ "Someone's coming out, it looks like... Pedro Pascal has just left the Gala"

"Where's the missus?"

"I don't see her"

"well you heard it here first folks, It looks like Pedro Pascal has just left the Met Gala with y/n y/l/n nowhere in sight" ]

Pt. 2

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astrid-sorensen · 10 months

Text

The Farmhouse | Joel Miller x f!reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏғ ʀᴇᴀᴅ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5ᴋ

MASTERLIST

"Kiss me." You asked, muted. “No.” He grunted. “I ain't your boyfriend.” He whispered coldly. The words stung in the air.

Joel might have been the most closed off person you have ever met. The only sound filling the room was Ellie's repetitive giggles as she read through her book.

The pages between one hand and a sandwich in the other. You had known Joel for a few days now, learning nothing about the man except he was from Texas. Except, there had to be something behind his stoic facade, I mean he had saved you after all.

The cordycept was hurtling behind you, darkness filled the library as feet slapped patterned tile. At the end was a light, a door held open by the brawn brunette male.

With little time to spare you'd passed him, the tall rectangular wooden door sealing shut behind you.

Panting short breaths out your lungs, you stepped down the grey stone steps towards a young teen, who you would soon learn was Ellie.

"Thank you! Oh my god! Thank you!" You turned to face the man, only now getting a good view of him.

The skin complimented the golden undertone of his flesh. Thick black and grey hair sprouted along his hairline.

A week or two later, all three of you rested for the night. You'd found a small abandoned gas station, gracing Ellie with a sleep on an old, leather couch.

You and Joel shared the abused brown linoleum, not much more than a foot between you. You rolled to your side, staring at the back of Joel's head as you debated your next move.

His wide shoulders were now in front of you. You couldn't stop yours fingers from slowly shaking over his skin, tentatively. "What are you doing?" His low voice, cutting through the air like a guillotine.

"C'mon, I've seen the way you look at me." You breathed, confidently.

"Don't be ridiculous." He spat back. Not moving away from you as you continued exploring him.

"What's stopping you. This could be our last night alive, and I haven't been fucked in so long."

Joel heaved a big sigh. You fingers continued to dance under his shirt.

Joel held his breath a moment longer silently begging you would stop before he'd give into his needs.

He needed to let off some steam, some pent up angst, he needed a release.

But alas, you didn't stop. The pads of your fingers grazed circles to his stomach slowly pressing down harder before going gentler again. Articulating your craving for him.

There was a soft layer of hair all over him and you felt the resistance as you moved your hand through it.

Feeling it thicken towards the centre of his abdomen and chest and then thin once you run it towards you again.

The next thing you know he's pulling you up onto his warm strong thighs, the denim scraping against your leggings.

His hands trapped you onto his legs leaving no room for you to move as he grinned upwards, his length hardening at the friction.

You felt your core moisten a cheeky smile grazing across your lips with pride as your hands went to his broad well built upper body.

One hand ran to your clit, rubbing the area as the wetness collected into the fabric, Joel could feel it seeping through.

He tugged at the waist of them, watching where your bodies met as you sat up on you knees letting him help you tear them off along with your panties.

He pulled you back on top of him, his knees widening to a v as he planted his feet firmly to the floor.

Knees bent to keep you in place, exactly where he wanted you. He continued pulverising into a rythm.

His lip caught between his teeth, the frown on his face deepening though you thought that wasn't possible.

You fingers moved to his jeans, fumbling on the belt as he nudged you off, undoing the leather band and buttons himself.

Then shuffling them down his thighs, so his cock could spring free.

One hand to the flesh of your ass the other to the base of his genitals, rubbing the sensitive skin of his tip between you lips, lubing it up.

He was slow, taking care as you felt your body build with excitement, craving to finally have him fill you up inside just as you'd anticipated.

The thought of how well endowed he was had crossed your mind more than once. At least you finally had your answer, and you were not disheartened.

He run up your slick one last time before finally pushing into the wet opening.

He felt your pussy crowning around the tip of his dick.

His jaw swung open and in that moment you knew this must of felt as good as it did for you as it did him.

He pulled his hips back, his tip almost slipping out before he moved back up replacing it to where it once was. His thumb rubbed at your cliterous.

This man was skilful, your body squeezing him to fit him inside.

Eventually he slid all the way in, your body tense and gripping around him. Both his hands squeezed at your ass, massaging into the flesh as he began bouncing you on his dick.

"Kiss me." You asked, muted.

"No." He grunted. "I ain't your boyfriend." He whispered coldly. The words stung in the air.

I know your not my boyfriend

A moan run from your mouth.

"Shut up, don't want Ellie hearing."

Another gasp fell from you lips.

"What did I just fuckin' say?" He grumbled, stilling as you felt your pussy pulsing around his length. Your hips bucked trying to gain some friction but it was no use against his strength, stilling you.

He moved a burly hand to your face, his thumb and pointer, clamping into your flushed cheeks as his palm cupped your mouth.

You whimpered into his skin, your neck straightening as he carried on, brutally fucking up into you.

Your hands lay against his chest, holding your balance, though you weren't sure if you needed to.

You crossed your arms over the hem of your shirt lifting the fabric before Joel swiped them off, you losing your grip of the cotton.

"Stop tryin' take your clothes off." He whispered, sternly.

"Why not?"

"If we gotta run, you gonna be focused on that shirt tryna pull it back on." Joel uttered into the night.

"Fine." You grumbled. It wasn't how you'd imagined, but I guess beggars can't be choosers.

Soon his rythm became sloppy, his end nearing as well as yours.

His wet thrusts kneading into where you needed him most.

"You close?" You nodded frantically, squeezing his hand your breast as his joined in. After a few more pumps you were letting go, stilling as you felt your whole body freeze, clamping down on him as electric shocks ran through you.

He fucked you hard through your release, edging on his own. You were spent, your whole body softening as Joel used you to satisfy himself further.

Fingertips gripping harshly into your hips as he pulled them down onto him.

Heavy breaths leaving this lungs. His large hands seized you by your ribs and quickly pulled you off, throwing you in between his legs as he palmed himself into oblivion. His cum spurting up into fountains then falling down into the base of his pubes.

A gorgeous hot flush was over him. His greyed hair slightly damp and lost some of its volume. A sheen coated his forehead as he brought a hand up to it, combing slowly down his hairline before gripping the crown.

Regaining composure.

He gave himself a second to catch his breath before reaching for the bottom of the curtain, ripping of a piece of fabric and cleaning himself up before pulling his jeans back up and righting his clothes to how they were before.

He made no eye contact as he did this, then turning onto his side away from you just like he had been before.

You sat, shocked and hurt. You ached for the intimacy, praying he would drag you over to him and pull you into his clutches. He didn't.

"Sleep, long day tomorrow." He stated, before falling completely silent. You moved pulling your leggings back on and crawling over to where you originally set up camp. Closing your eyes and begging for sleep to swallow you.

You woke the next morning to Ellie nudging at your sleep. "Hey wake up! I'm really fucking hungry and were outta food."

You grumbled, sitting up from where you had lead on the carpet, rubbing a sore knot in your shoulder to ease the pain from sleeping on the floor. Joel and Ellie were all packed, bags on their backs and guns in hand.

—

"Hey, how's watch going?"

"Fine." He replied, avoiding your gaze. God this man was difficult. There was an awkward silence as you waited. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked.

"Nah, restless." You moped. "Has anything ever snuck up on you when you were sleeping then? You know, cos you always insist on keeping watch and stuff."

"No." The male began. "But you can never be too careful."

"Hmm, I'd say fuck it. Get your sleep. Can't be killing cordys, running on an hours nap."

"Yeah but you also needed me to save your ass back there. So I think I'll stick on the side of precaution."

"Touché." You nodded, wandering aimlessly around. "You know, there's a reason I couldn't sleep."

Joel didn't answer but turned to look at you, a bored look plastered across his face, one eyebrow slightly perked in interest. "I was wondering if you wanted another repeat of the other night, you seemed to enjoy yourself."

"So did I." You flirted, eyes gazing up at the man as you wondered towards his direction.

He looked you up and down before returning his gaze into the distance, gun still firmly held against his chest. He chewed his lip, seemingly at war with himself. An entire ethical debate going on behind those black coffee eyes.

You lifted your fingers to his jawline, caressing the scraggly coarse hair of his face, scratching lightly at the skin underneath. You run it down to the exposed part of his chest, just between the collarbones before undoing a button, teasing further.

He swiped your hand off harshly slapping it away. Joel swivelled his gun down beside him.

"You want me to fuck you again?" He gritted through his teeth, half a question, half an answer.

"Mmhm." You nodded, cheekily.

"Right here?" He scowled, signally to where you were stood. The look of his face was disrespectful.

"Yep." Joel shook his head, sighing before looking around, pulling his gun off and putting it to the floor.

"Leggings down, now." He ordered. A smile crawled onto your lips, moving your fingers to the waistband of your pants, pulling them down innocently as you waited for his next order.

"Gotta be quick."

He said nothing as he pushed at you waist, edging you to turn around. He pushed you further, causing you to stumble forward til you reached the trunk of the old abandoned car.

You leant forward, arms bent up to rest your head on instead of the cold rusty metal of the car. Joel placed two hands to your ass cheeks, spreading your legs apart as he dived between them.

He spat into his hand cupping you sex and rubbing quickly, preparing you for him. He stood up, one hand flat to your lower back as he levelled himself to your hole.

"Do you want this cock?" He whispered, darkly.

"Yes, Joel. Please fuck me." You whimpered, bucking your hips back into him, but he held you in place with a deathly grip.

"Fucking Slut, you gotta be real quiet for me though." You hummed as he pressed in, forcing himself between your folds.

You cried out quickly, biting your lip to stifle the sound.

He fucked into you with violent force, your hips bones pressing into the vehicle. You felt his soft huffs behind you, the brunt force making the car rattle.

He carried on a moment longer before pushing up the back of you jacket to lay a kiss to your tailbone. "Too loud." He pulled you off, arms crossing underneath your own and lifting you a metre to the side like a toddler.

He kept one arm there, the muscle holding you up as he inserting himself again. He fucked into you harshly, the only sounds were his wet thrusts slapping into you.

You wined, rewarding you with a firm grasp of his hand against the sides of your throat. His breath heaved in the delicate eardrum of your ears. You gasped for air, you knees buckling as you came to your finish.

Shaking around him. He felt you go floppy, moving his hand down and watching you fall onto the leaves below. He moved behind you, angling your hips up so you were now on your hand and knees.

He braced your hips as he connected with you again, brutal thrusts into you from behind til you could tell he was close. Within an instant you felt him pull out, hot wet spurts on your ass as he came.

He admired the view, swiping off his ejaculate with his hand and handing it to you. You watched him innocently. He moved his fingers to your mouth and you sucked off the juice that was there. You pulled off and he twisted his hand, motioning you to clean it off. You waited patiently as he checked to see if there was anymore, finding some leaking between his thumb and pointer.

You swiped it off, the feeling sticky and salty on your tongue, swallowing all the residue down. He pulled his jeans back up, doing up his belt before fetching his gun he'd left on the floor. You followed pulling up your leggings.

"Go sleep." He ordered.

"You know I could keep watch for a while."

"No. Go to sleep, I'm not gonna ask again."

You wondered back, slumping to the floor and curling up under the blanket. You slept well after that.

—

"Are you ever gonna look at me again?" You scoffed, half joking, half annoyed. He didn't reply. "Hey, what's your fucking problem?"

"I'm just tryna get me and Ellie to Wyoming, I don't know what your so goddam pressed about."

"We had sex okay, it happened. You don't have to keep in a 10 mile radius from me."

"You asked me to fuck you and I did. Stop acting like it's anythin' more than that."

"Seriously, Joel I'm a fucking person! Or has it not occurred to you that I have feelings?"

"Not my problem."

"God Joel, your such a cunt."

He huffed.

"You were just somethin' to put my dick in. Nothing more than that." He cursed out, cruely.

Goddamit Joel, that was harsh. Where the hell did that come from?

He thought to himself.

You eyebrows raised, hurt but not surprised. Joel was cruel, Joel was cold. Your eyes then shut, a bigger smile crossing your lips as you stormed into another room, tossing down your jacket and curling up. Allowing the tears to roll down soothing yourself with them.

—

Ellie woke to the sun, shining through the newspaper clad windows, as she rose from her bed for the night. She went to wake up Joel who was already sat up, sorting through his things.

"Good morning!" She said cheerily, scanning the room quickly before asking. "Where's she gone?" Joel signalled his head to one side as Ellie wondered round and knocked on the door.

"Hey, you up yet?" There was no reply as she entered finding a bare room. She traipsed out poking her head into the other before returning to Joel. "Which one she in?"

"Next door."

"By next door do you mean in another motel, cos she sure as hell ain't there."

"What?" He growled, jumping from where he was sat and storming into the other room before booting into the next and the next. Your name rang through the halls, echoing across the bare property.

Joel ran, poking his head out to the distance. Then running to the opposite side, seeing your grey clad frame, wondering off. "Wait there!" You turned noticing the man before you began running, bolting across the field to the safety of the trees.

"God I'm too old for this." He huffed, catching his breath. You stopped running once he caught up, no reason to keep up the chase whilst he'd definitely gain on you and practically tackle you to the floor if it was what it takes.

"Fuck off Joel!" You spat, avoiding eye contact as you kept your head firmly ahead, not too certain where you were really going.

"No, about what I said."

"Oh you mean the part where you told me I wasn't even a person to you? Just a hole to put your dick in." If I remember correctly. In fact you did remember clearly, very clearly, too clearly.

"I mean" "I mean, I didn't mean it." "I didn't know what to say to you." "Fuck I'm no good at this."

"No your really not." You grumbled continuing to walk on.

"I'm tryna tell you I'm sorry."

"Oh, it was nothing. We're even, See ya!" You mocked.

"Please stay, if not just for me, for Ellie. Your the only one that gets through to her." "She loves you."

"She does not love me."

"She does, I'm old. I know that stuff when I see it. She always wakes you up first, she never picks arguments and she never walks on without you. She trusts you. "You know she'll never believe it wasn't her fault you left."

Fuck how could you do that to her, everyone she's ever loved has left her one way or another. She at least deserves a goodbye. And here wasn't the time.

"Please, don't fuckin' leave," His gruff voice broke.

"Okay, one more night." You started. "So I can say goodbye."

"Hey where the fuck were you running?" Ellie called, jointing you were you were in the clearing.

"Just tryna get a head start, your still pretty hungry aren't you?" You teased.

"Oh man, I could eat a whole horse." She laughed. You joined in letting her catch up to you as all three of you went off into the woods. The plan was to head west, go round the next town over and carry on til you found somewhere to sleep for the night.

You walked for what felt like days, taking frequents rests to put up your feet before you kept going. You were almost through the last step of your journey for the day. You'd hiked round the small town of Arlington, coming up to a country house just a couple miles out the city. The place you were coming up to was perfect, a large white farmhouse, black windows and a porch. Now you think about it it kinda reminded you of bill and franks although more secluded. The tall grass was wetter here than it was back in Boston, slightly muddying and green and almost reached you knees as you wading through, watching dusk fall over the hills.

"Woah! This is perfect!" Ellie beamed, a wide grin ear to ear in excitement. Moss had grown up the walls almost completely covering the once lavish family abode.

As you got close enough to make out the colour of the window frames, a dark brown beige, you felt a burning feeling flush over your thigh. You all ducked, hands shielding your body and chest loosly as you looked around.

At first you felt as although you had wet yourself. God this was embarrassing, until a loud echo followed. Finally registering in your brain. Your legs buckled under your weight, falling into the long grass.

You looked down to your leg, almost as if it were in slow motion. You saw your leggings dampen and a small amount of skin shown through the rip of the fabric. And it was red. So red. A gushing pool coating you as you heard more shots go off.

"Stay down!" Joel yelled, the deep gargle emitting from his chest in desperation. Almost on cue, agonising whimpers leaving your mouth as you held you hands to it.

Need to put pressure on it.

Was the only thought running through your rampant psyche. Ellie had crawled off in front, perching behind a shrub as Joel pulled out his gun, lying on his front as he angled it up to the house, towards the fence he saw the shots come over. "Fuck!" You cried out, attempting to crawl.

Joel bounded over to you, one arm under you knees and the other under your arms as he pulled you into him with haste. "Hold on tight." He demanded, leaving no room for debate.

"Joel get behind that car, you can get a better shot."

"No, I gotta to get you somewhere safe first." He snarled, as he ran as fast as he could, you hands gripping tighter to him as you bounced in his arms. He darted to the short stone wall leaped over it and dropping you to the floor behind, catching his breath and he got his largest gun into a better hold. "Don't fucking move." There was a small softness around his stern words. Those earnest iris' bleeding into your own.

You lay your head back against the bricks. Panting as you held on tightly to your leg.

Goddam this fucking hurts

There was shot after shot, echoing across the fields and into the distance.

"C'mon, let's get you inside." He picked you up again, pacing quickly towards the house. He must've took care of the shooter. Ellie ran ahead. Joel kicked down the back door heaving you inside and bringing you to the nearest seat.

You flopped down, one hand tightly griping into your hair. Joel found a cloth and placed it harshly onto the wound, your own arms folding up as you seethed in pain, muscles tensing and contracting.

He lifted the fabric, inspecting the would quickly before covering it again. He was knelt to your side both hands down as he held them straight in place.

"Ellie, you find anything?" He called. You felt dizzy and sick, agony washing over you again and again, each wave stronger than the last. Tears were welling in Joel's eyes unable to hold them back his shell shocked look terrifying you even more.

You couldn't make out her response. You turned your head to the side, a heave of vomit coming out as Joel held you there with his shoulder. You were too weak to do it yourself. "Ok, keep looking!" You felt the dizzying again.

Please don't throw up again.

Joel watched your eyes lull back and go floppy, he tapped on your face trying to bring you back.

"Hey, hey." He said, following with your name. "C'mon, stay awake for me." He moved, opting to lift your injured leg into the air, hoping to help some of the blood flow.

Ellie handed something reluctantly to Joel, he looked down at it briefly, chewing on his jaw before getting to work Joel ripped the fabric of your leggings with one harsh rip, the one leg of the fabric now it two for ease of access.

You eyes woke again.

What was going on?

Where the hell where you?

The whole place was rotten and mouldy, broken concrete everywhere. The wallpaper had been ripped at as if some had tried to scale it.

He threaded the needle, you saw white as he began. Curling the needle through your flesh. You screamed begging him to stop, crying in pain.

You fell out of consciousness, giving Joel a few seconds to carry on before you woke again, screaming the strength for him to stop. Blood had coated his whole hands, dripping onto the carpet.

"I know, I know, I know it hurts." He gritted, eyes fixed on your mutilated form. Soon he finished up, pulling the thread tight as it weaved through you flesh.

He pulled the needle off .

"It's over now." Joel sighed in relief, grateful he managed to finish it off. You head lulled back, hitting the sofa arm as a bittersweet bliss engulfed you for a short while, the excruciating pain of being sewn up finally completed.

You stayed conscious for a few minutes longer, moans and groans through you til you found some solace in sleep. "Hey soldier." He said, your eyes fluttering before looking over to him. You looked down to see a thick heavy cloth strap tightly around your wound. "Did your nap help?"

"A little, still fucking hurts like a bitch though." you croaked.

"Well, there's a decent looking bed upstairs, do wanna sleep up there?" You nodded, letting the man pick you up how he did earlier and slowly take you up the stairs. You dug your nails into his shoulders as your leg grazed him, pain sizzling through your nerves. A soft whimper fell into the air.

"Where's Ellie?"

"She's sleeping, theres a little kids room. Countless comic books she's rummaging through." The floorboards creaked as you reached the top floor, Joel carrying through the door way with care.

He gently placed you down, shaking off a dusty quilt before slowly draping it over you. He disappeared.

"Here." He said handing you an open can of spaghetti hoops. Your stomach growled at the view.

"Thanks."

You gobbled it quickly, the Texan moving to the space next to you to sit down. He pulled you carefully to lie on his chest. You were far too tired to put up a fight. Plus he was much comfier than the flat lumpy pillows. "We need to find more food."

"Your injured, need to rest."

"No, we need to find food." You said firmly.

"I'll take care of that."

"What by yourself?" You mocked, rudely. He didn't laugh. "Joel I'm still leaving, once my leg is good and I got some food, we're going our separate ways."

"Downstairs got a fireplace," He began, hesitantly. "Probably some good soil out back and it's not far from the city to find supplies." He muttered, shyly. "Plus I think I could fix the stove, maybe."

"Joel it's not gonna work. I'm-."

"Wait," You shook your head, having none of it. "Fuck, woman." He groaned. His hands had grabbed your face, pining it to the headboard in a rigid grip.

"Joel-"

"I-I need, you." He spilled, the words leaving his mouth like a broken dam.

He gravitated in.

Desperation overcoming him as he pressed his small plump lips to your dry ones, moistening them softly with his own. The grimace on his face was too intense to miss.

His dark eyes begging, pleading with you. This was killing him truly, get himself open to show you his insides.

But there was something there you hadn't seen on him before, a softness.

His rigidness blunted at the corners. "Okay? I fucking need you, I've almost lost you before, I'm not risking it again."

"What?"

He played with your lips, grazing them carefully so they only just touched as he spoke against you still.

"Don't you dare fucking leave me in this world alone." Both of your eyes were sealed shut. conveying so much love and passion as his hands held you in place.

He broke off, looking you fervently in the eyes as you looked back into chocolate ones, seeing so much vulnerability and tenderness. "Don't you dare."

He searched your face, his brows tightly embroidered together and little downwards frown on his lips.

"Okay, okay I won-"

He slowly went down you neck, kissing the skin softly. He lay small warm kisses to the collum of your neck. Something has possessed this man.

"God I need you so bad right now." He grumbled in a mild undertone.

"Do it then." He shook his head firmly, objecting.

"No, your leg."

"Don't worry, plus it might help with the pain." Joel pondered, his brown eyes wandering off into the distance.

"I have an idea." He crawled down the bed, gently tearing your other legging up you thigh, laying soft kisses as he did so. Soon he reached the top leaving you in just your underwear and you pr t shirt on top.

He slowly moved you good leg up, bending it at the knee as he pressed on the exposed part of your thigh, easing his access.

He lay a kiss too your wetness, your heart pounding in your ears. Joel started helping you take your shirt off.

"What happened to always being prepared?" You quizzed.

"It's safe here. Plus I can't resist."

"What if someone gets in."

"They won't." He growled. He laid back down, gentle kisses.

You inhaled sharply through your teeth. Jaw clenching since you'd tensed your limb trying to chase the high. "Try stay still, gorgeous." He said, his eyelashes fluttering down so he didn't see your response.

The word fell from his mouth like it was the easiest thing it the world. Like he called you that all the time, like it was made for you.

You heart fluttered, your hand moving to his hair to comb through it, gently scratching at his scalp to encourage him on. Shorts pants left your lips, your release nearby.

Your couldn't control your pelvis tilting at the motion your hole clenching, begging for something to fill it. As if on cue, Joel's thick finger poked at where you wanted him.

The action earning him your body's praise.

"J-Joel." You moaned, he softly hushed you, affectionately.

Your eyes squeezing shut as you came.

"Joel, that was the best." He pulled off his shirt and jeans, climbing in beside you before tucking you both into the blanket as you cosied tightly into him.

His hand pushing all your hair of your shoulder so he could grip your face.

He pulled you tightly into his chest, one hand gripping your neck with so much force you thought it would fracture.

"Good, get some sleep. You need your strength back." He kissed your forehead, the warmth flushing across your face.

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urf1lterr · 1 year

Text

afterglow | pedro pascal [1/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 6.8k

status: 1/3 complete

author's note: i actually started this weeks ago but never had the chance to finish. hope you guys like this short one shot even though its gonna be two parts lol. not edited.

"Quick! Spray her hair some more! We need to make sure there's no flyaways," your manager demanded to your assistant, handing over a large can of hairspray.

Objecting, you swat it away making her gasp. "Too much will make me look greasy."

Here you were, all dressed up in your tight corset red dress in the back of some SUV one of your assistant's ordered being a nervous wreck.

If it wasn't for the two shots you had taken before, you were sure you would have fainted right about now. It was your first time attending the notable award show nominated.

And alone.

You did attend the past two years; however, you always had your boyfriend near from a distance as you walked down the red carpet and participated in interviews.

Well, ex boyfriend. But that's irrelevant now.

Of course you knew your team would be three steps behind you majority of the time, but it wasn't going to be the same knowing you had to sit alone for most of the show, especially since you were nominated.

Not that you knew you would win, you were up against women who dominated the screen year after year while you recently got your first big lead after so many years. But it was indeed a huge honor to even come to this point as you knew this might never happen again.

Pulling up to the main entrance, you could hear how loud the fans and paparazzi were through the thick, tinted windows. Your driver quickly jumped out of the car before rounding his way to yours, swiftly opening it, the chilly air instantly making you shiver.

Gulping, you try to hide any signs of fear in your body by smiling widely and immediately directing waves and bows to the crowd as your manager was right behind your ear, constantly informing you on how quicker you needed to be.

You were finally able to get rid of her when another worker offered their hand to you, ushering you to the main carpet for your pictures.

Taking a deep breathe, you are instantly dragged to a spot to start your first poses, doing the same angles- hands on hip and shifting of head- which the paparazzi demanded you do, as you followed down the long path.

Already in the middle of the walkway, you move your arms behind your back as you send a warm smile before hearing another roar from fans. Glancing to your side, you fight the urge to scoff knowing damn well you'd wake up to news outlet making headlines over it.

You just found it incredibly annoying the massive attention being displayed over nothing.

It just so happened that your infuriating ex thought it would be a brilliant idea to make his mark on the carpet right after you. Mentally sighing, you tried finding other things to plant in your head to stop you from cursing him out.

You were not going to let him get to you, especially not on your special night.

Once you came down the end of the road, you were met with your team again before being thrown into a line for interviews.

"If it makes you feel any better," you heard your assistant move up to your ear, whispering as you were neatly fixing the large necklace draped around your neck. "He was totally checking you out."

Backing your head away from hers, you give you a gross look as she shrugged. "Don't make me barf before the show even starts."

One thing about you assistant, she's been with you since the very beginning. From your first agency, she had been assigned to you until she was forced to cease the partnership as you changed companies. So she did that, but with her original company and took the move with you.

She says it's because that's what friends do, you think it's because of the increase in pay.

Since following you around for years, she witnessed all the shy, awkward, romantic, and crying stages of majority of your relationships.

Most certainly remembering the last one real well.

Him being your first love didn't make it any better as it led to you breaking down over the silliest things for months when you should've been moving on.

But every time there was a chance it was understandable to mention his name, your assistant wasted no time trying to make him stuck in your head.

Let's just say she believed what you two had was...special.

Blocking out the rest of her remarks, knowing where she was headed, you get called into an interview. Mentally groaning, it was always the same old questions every year that bore you to death.

How are you? Who are you wearing? Are you in a relationship?

You would always reply truthfully until it came to the last part. Your ex didn't mind publicly announcing it, basically pleading for its unveil anytime you two went out.

You on the other hand disagreed. Being a prominent actor himself, you knew the media would slowly take a toll and make your relationship harder.

This theory often left the two of you fighting constantly for many months, committing cruel and nasty jabs to one another before calling your almost three year-old relationship quits.

That was 10 months ago, tonight being the first time you'd be in the same room since screaming unholy words to each other's faces, throwing fragile objects in all directions before he stormed out of your home, never coming back.

Well, you did change all the locks that same night.

But long story short, only family and friends knew about your relationship from start to finish. Fortunately with that, you didn't have to deal with fans freaking out over the two of you being near one another.

Save that for Austin Butler and Vanessa Hudgens.

Forming a proud smirk, you beam back to the interviewer as she pushed a mic up your mouth. "I'm actually seeing someone."

Gasping, the interviewer looked at the camera in shock, trying to keep her audience engaged, before stepping closer. "Who's the lucky man- or woman?! We don't discriminate." You could hear the fans in the back cheering as more celebrities were passing by. "And just how long have you been keeping your lover locked up?"

'Lover', really?

Faking a grin you knew she thought was believable, you wave your hand in front of her. "He's not ready to be discovered quite yet, he's a little shy-," you wink to the camera as she squeals. "-but 9 months next week."

Ending the conversation with her wishing your nomination and 'relationship' the best of luck, you walked off to find your assistant giving you a disappointed look. "What?"

"Why would you do that?"

Shrugging, you move a strand of hair over your shoulder. "It's not that serious, maybe it'll gain me more publicity."

You didn't care for the attention, you just wanted to find a way to prove that you were moving on in life- for your fans at least. Even if it was a lie and you were still the same person you were 10 months ago.

She just stood there, making her silence loud and clear that she was not by the very least happy. Deep down you knew it was a low move to pull, but it's not like you did it in front of your ex.

Maybe the news will spread tomorrow when you don't have to breathe in the same air as him. Better for you, nonetheless.

"I love your dress," you heard someone praise you as you were in search for your seat. Turning, you were met with your familiar red-head friend. "It really compliments your eye look."

Smiling, you bowed to the famous Jessica Chastain, another actress you met a handful of times.

As the two of you reached out to one another a couple of times, you were indeed introduced by your ex as his close friend was actually a lead in a series with her.

"I could say the same for you, that necklace is breathtaking," you gush as she waves off your warm acclaim.

"I see we're sitting next to each other," she grins ear to ear, gesturing towards the seats nearby. "Good, now I won't have to only talk to my husband during the commercial breaks."

That's how the remaining half an hour went by, catching up on one another's life before the lights slightly dimmed, signaling the start of the award show.

Opening with Jimmy Kimmel's monologue, you quietly giggled from all the jokes he presented, especially the one about Pauly Shore you were sure he would take personally.

Towards the end of his act, you notice the act of violence come up, obviously referring to last year's fallout with Chris Rock and Will Smith, before he started acknowledging popular film heroes across the room.

You slightly jump as his first victim was Michael B. Jordan, exposing you and Jessica in the back trying to jump out of from the camera view but poorly failing, making the people near you laugh.

It wasn't even 30 seconds later before you heard the mention of an all too familiar character being called out, your ex boyfriend in his thick black glasses appearing on the big screen while acting tough to the lens.

Oh, how you used to love those glasses.

But you did notice another person making a small presence in the corner, causing you to pause for a moment. You were sure you'd seen this individual walking pass you down the row to his located seat.

Turning your head to see where this stranger was, your eyes instantly locked with the one person you hoped you wouldn't be near. How had you not have known he was literally sitting behind you- well, three people diagonal from you but same thing.

He was still behind you.

What made things worse was the fact his sister was right by his side, sending you a warm smile as you quickly turned your head forward, not daring to move an inch the entire show it if meant you didn't have to face his gaze again.

Continuing your attention on the stage, you didn't notice the set of eyes burning your side. In fact, that spilt second you did notice him, you didn't take account of the way his expression softened in heartfelt- eventually breaking once the swift turn of your discomfort became apparent.

It seemed you truly were disgusted by him.

But once the act was over, you felt Jessica lean over to you. "Definitely rooting for you," she lightly squealed. "If the nerves get to you, hold my hand."

You send her a questionable look. "For what?"

"Your nomination, silly," she giggled as your eyes widened. That was happening now? The memo you were given weeks ago said opposite. "Best Supporting Actress is up next!"

"But I was told it wouldn't be announced till the second hour."

She sends you a uncertain shrug, not sure what to say. There must have been a last minute change to the line up- which was totally fine, but you were not prepared for your nerves to hit.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you rub your hands together as you see the production team walking near the stage for the upcoming selection. You couldn't at least get a commercial break?

As the lights started dimming and the crowed cheered, you could see the two presenters make their way to the middle of the stage before the clips of films played.

Cringing, you jump and quickly close your eyes as you saw yourself on the gigantic screen. It's very weird watching yourself act out a character, which is why you avoid it at all costs.

Especially the crying scenes- you always thought of Kim Kardashian's crying meme whenever your tears were on the screen.

Your ex would say otherwise, constantly praising you every chance he had when you would appear on a film, claiming you had such a passionate aura when you expressed yourself. Often following with his additional, "it's what made me fall in love with you."

Swaying your neck, you try to clear your mind. Fuck your thoughts for daring to think about him in such a crucial moment.

Wishing for time to fly by quicker, you completely zone out as the wait seemed longer than usual. It also didn't help that the camera was zoomed up to your face trying to capture your reaction to this nerve wracking milestone.

You let out a sigh of relief as another actress, Jamie Lee Curtis, was awarded- thrilled that you didn't have to go up and make a dreadful speech that surely wouldn't be planned.

"Why do you seem thankful?"

Turning to Jessica, you send her a chuckle. "I probably would've fallen down the stairs if I did win," you declare as she rolls her eyes. "Plus, the other nominees had more of a lively feel with their roles than me- they deserved it more."

The rest of the show did seem to fly by smoothly. There was the segment where your ex did have to present an award in which you were forced to pull a contented face in case any random camera caught you.

He seemed nervous, but he did do well considering the room was filled with remarkable individuals- it was very intimidating to say the least.

But you weren't ever going to tell him that.

Standing up and patting your dress down, you quickly excuse yourself in search for your assistant during the intermission. You really needed to touch up your makeup and she was the only who had your powder in her bag.

Walking near the side of the stage, you slip through a door and make it to the backstage area where most celebrities' teams were scattered around, trying to be useful and take hundreds of pictures.

"There you are," you smile as you catch a glimpse of her bright red hair from the corner of your eye near a wall. "I really nee- uhm"

You halt as you were met with the same presence of the man who battered your heart and left it to rot months ago. The one who caused the constant breakdowns in your car after every Starbucks run from the frequent trips you two used to share.

The one who left you stranded for his ex.

"Oh, hey!" your assistant beamed while you just gave her an agitated expression, trying your best to stay calm and collected before you became the opposite. "You're not supposed to be here- the show is still go-"

"I need my powder," you grit your teeth, causing her to suck in her lips by your noticeable anger.

Quickly reaching to her bag and unzipping it, you tried ignoring the amused expression your ex was portraying as he leaned up against the wall in hope you would spare him a glance.

You didn't.

Placing the product in your hand, she shakily reaches out to you. "Here, I can take it once you're done w-"

"I'll hold on to it," you dryly cut her off, swiftly turning your back to them before speed walking towards the door you came in from. All you wanted to do now was sit through the remainder of the awards and sleep on the car ride home.

But of course things never went your way.

Hearing loud footsteps of shoes, you feel a gush of wind hit you as a person barged their way in front of you, causing you to stop your movements. "You didn't have to be so harsh on her, you know?"

Holding back your laughter, you mock him. "Harsh? What's so harsh about doing your job?"

He releases a wary look, knowing you would never act like this unless something was bothering you.

Sadly, he knew he was that something- or somebody.

"I was the one who went up to her," he explains, trying to defend her from your future wrath. "She was only kind enough to stay-."

"I don't care what my workers do when I am not around," you cut him off, glaring at him. "Nor you."

With that, you make your exit before he could further justify himself. In reality, you were upset she was talking to him, but you knew he must've started the conversation and could understand why she stayed.

But what really hurt was the fact you knew deep down she believed you were in the wrong as to why you resented him. Maybe the sight of the two of them triggered your feelings, but for a person who's never sat down and heard both stories she was not one to have any say as to how you should feel.

Sitting down on your seat, Jessica sends you a worried look by how fast you strutted back as if you were running away from something- your past. Returning a reassuring one, you steer clear from the body walking through the aisle as they eyed you down, ultimately brushing your backside as they shuffled to their located seat.

Goosebumps arose all over from the split-second contact. For such short contact, it was sure as hell strong as his warmth hit you.

Straightening your posture, you exhale lowly, trying to compose yourself. You don't want anyone thinking you seemed triggered or anxious because you weren't. And you were going to prove it, making it your best interest to stop thinking about all the unnecessary issues in your life and let loose a bit.

And that's exactly what you did.

"I think I broke my toe," you whine, hopping on your right leg as one hand held onto your left ankle. "How am I going to dance now?"

"That's enough shots for you," you heard Florence exclaim, quickly taking the small cup away from your right hand as you huff, trying to fight back.

It was no use, once determined you knew there was no stopping her from doing her thing.

"Give her a bottle of water and she'll come back to life," you heard Shailene suggest as you tried your best to stay balanced.

After the award show you swear you were going to go straight home until a certain somebody caused you to flip your plans around and party.

That somebody being Andrew Garfield.

"Why end all the fun so early?" you hum, finally feeling your feet numb from the pain and standing better. "The party is just starting!"

Swaying your arms crazily as your hips were rocking in all directions, Shailene's laughter fills your ears as you miss Florence's disturbed stare.

Your dancing was not a pretty sight to see.

"It started almost three hours ago!" Shailene called out over the blaring music that was playing on the dance floor. You were sure it was some EDM song until you took a notice of the familiar lyrics.

Instantly freezing, your friends stop in worry as your body movements halt. Slowly pointing your finger up in the air, you gasp. "Is this Ciara?!"

Feeling a body collide with yours, an arm immediately wrapped around your shoulder. "Oh god! I couldn't find the bathroom, they have like 20 rooms here" Andrew complained, out of breath. "I almost pissed myself!"

Florence walked in front of you two, taking his cup away from him as well. "And no more drinking for you, too. Sir."

Weeping and pulling a despairing pout, his shoulders fall. "Aw c'mon, I wasn't even dri- holy shit, is this Ciara?"

Excitedly jumping up and down, you rapidly nod as he cheers along, both of you fan girling to the iconic song choice. Your other friends just stared, not quite sure what your next actions would be.

Pulling away from you and gently pushing people to the side, Andrew began forming a circle as you giggled in your hand by how energetic he was becoming.

The large opening caught the attention of the other attendees who began walking over to see what all the commotion was.

"You're causing so much-"

"Shush! I'm about to do my 1, 2 step!" Andrew placed a hand to Florence's face, ignoring her parenting skills before swinging his body smoothly to the middle of the circle.

'I shake it like Jello, make the boys say hello 'cause they know I'm rockin' the beat'

Cringing hard, your two sober friends began covering their faces as Andrew allowed the dance floor to acknowledge his presence.

Soon enough, the crowd got bigger as guests began vibing to the rhythm, eventually making the space and air around you hotter.

'I know you heard about a lot of great MC's but they aint got nothing one me'

Constantly tripping over your heels, which you knew would reveal fucked up feet tomorrow, you find Florence and leap to her side, watching as her once stern expression was slowly forming into a grin.

She could never stay annoyed for too long, her lively personality forbid it.

"Because I'm 5 foot 2, I wanna dance with you and I'm sophisticated fun!" you hear someone beside you scream as you followed along, wrapping your loose arms around hers as the two of you begin twirling through the crowd.

Behind your drunken state, you just knew your sober-self tomorrow was going to be praying no one records your embarrassing moves.

The song seems to end faster than what you had anticipated, going from the funky beat to a familiar pop one which made you happier.

Shrieking in joy, Andrew jumped back to Florence and you once realization filled his ears. "I'm about to fucking go insane right now! This son-" stopping, he turned his head to find someone swaying right beside him before leaning towards their ear. "This is your song!"

Bursting out in laughter, you see the devoted artist agree to the obvious note he had made.

"Sorry about him," you intervene, your words coming out in slurs. "He's a dedicated Swiftie...as well as me," you squeak and watch as she waves her hand in appreciation.

God, if only you could see how badly you were humiliating yourself in front of the legendary Taylor Swift.

Not being able to begin your upcoming requests on scoring some of her sold-out concert tickets, you were dragged back onto the dance floor by your very hyper dance partner.

'I knew you were trouble when you walked in, so shame on me now'

Walking closer to get a better look at you two, Shailene's eyes widened as the song continued. "He better not-"

"Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground!" Andrew sung, falling on his knees with his head back. Following after him, you sink to the ground in despair as others continued screaming the lyrics over and over again.

Everybody's a Swifite.

Getting back up by the help of Shailene, you begin to serenade her as Taylor's famous lyrics start catching up. Expressing a face of sorrow and grief, you dramatically chant.

'And the saddest fear...'

But with the crowd of people pushing their way through, your vision ends up falling upon another person- one you were sure you would've avoided if you weren't as plastered as you were now.

'Comes creeping in...'

A sudden harsh push has you involuntarily making your way to your target, you accidentally pushing their shoulders back as they halt their movements, surprised you were even giving them any bit of regard in public until they realized what had happened.

Oh god, how can you be in this situation with a sad Taylor song playing. How ironic.

Noticing the sufferable look of discomfort forming upon your features by his proximity, he tries taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you from the rough crowd but you rejected his hands.

'That you never loved me or her'

Giving him one tough push of his chest, which was incredibly hard by how weak the night has made you, his face filled with hurt at the sight of your developing teary eyes.

You couldn't help it, all the memories of your relationship began flooding your mind. The laughs, the love, the arguments- and in this moment you weren't stable enough to contain your true feelings towards him.

Trying to reach back out for you, your ex steps forward but someone else begins to distract you.

"Or anyone, or anything, YEAHH!" Andrew hollers, viscously shaking your shoulders with his eyes closed before opening them, his beaming grin falling instantly. "Did I make you cry?!"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head and look down as you feel tears slowly begin pouring out. "Hide me before Taylor sees me, I don't want to look ugly in front of her." you joke, trying to stop his flourishing worries but it didn't.

Instead, it made him even more concerned by how unfazed you were after releasing your waterworks out of nowhere.

Nodding, he holds your hand and begins to lead you away from the crowd but another grip was holding you back. Looking at your other hand, you move your gaze to discover your ex was the one who ceased your steps, sending you an alarmed stare in return.

Trying to free yourself, you shake your hand vigorously as he leaned into you. "You can't just breakdown in front of me and expect me to leave you alone!"

Scoffing, you move your face away from his crazed one. "I'm drunk, ignore me."

"A drunk mind speaks the hidden truth."

Pausing your movements, you stare him down as he doesn't back away but only frowns by your rude attitude. He wasn't going to let this nonstop quarrel continue anymore, especially when you obviously weren't fine if you just fell apart over a silly Taylor Swift song.

In his eyes, you clearly weren't fine with him. He wanted to fix that.

Inhaling sharply, you forcefully pull your hand away as he winces by the sudden release. Trying to find a clever comeback in order to take a win on this minor bickering, you allow your drunken-self to take the lead. "I prefer Spider-man, anyway."

What the fuck? You pull a disgusted face, slapping your forehead once your back was facing Pedro to hide your embarrassment. How was that fucking clever? Spider-man- really?

Turning to Andrew, you tug his hand and swiftly make your way through the bodies of the crowd as your two other friends followed behind, definitely witnessing your intense argument with your ex- which you were sure people finally uncovered.

Strolling through the back door, a cold breeze hits your body causing you to shiver and clutch your arms together tighter in hopes of forming some warmth.

"Your car should arrive in a few minutes, Ma'am," you hear the valet attendant claim, awkwardly standing still as your makeup was smudged near the corners of your eyes.

You thank him as your friends quietly gawk you, curious to figure out what was going on but not wanting to trigger you more.

"Will you three stop staring at me like that and ask already?" you groan as they jump in alarm. "I know you're all very confused."

Slowly taking a step forward, Florence placed a soft hand on your arm for comfort. "We don't want to intrude. It's your business."

"I believe I welcomed the party in my business ten minutes ago," you sarcastically smile. "So, it's fine."

Sighing, Shailene was the first to speak up as Andrew gave you a sympathetic face, trying to be respectful. "You and Pedro dated?"

Shrugging, you nipped on your bottom lip to prevent the fear of tears from flowing again. "I guess?" you lightly chuckle, trying to lighten your mood a bit. "3 years must have meant something, right?"

Pulling you in for a hug after capturing your weak voice crack, Andrew cradled you in his arms as Florence and Shailene tried rubbing your back.

Being emotional wasn't really your thing, so being consoled was very strange yet nice.

It made you feel wanted, sadly.

All thoughts through your mind disappeared once a deafening bang was heard from the building, the four of you pulling away from the hug instantly and averting your focus to where the sound directly came from- the back door.

With harsh steps, you make out Pedro's agitated body language as he rapidly shook his head and pointed at you while your friends froze in shock. "I'm sick of you always running away from me every time we talk. Is that fair? I can't have one normal fucking conversation with you because you scatter the second words leave my mouth."

Feeling your hands tighten up, you hug yourself tighter as he takes your silence as complete bullshit.

Now you wanna be quiet?

"Do you know how hard it was trying to find you? Hearing everyone ask if you were okay because you decided to come up to me and run out crying?" he sternly declared, his face now serious as he inched closer to you, your emotionless expression killing him. "As if that was my fault!"

You knew he wanted you to breakdown, to cry in his arms and beg for forgiveness by making you feel as if this was all your fault. It might be- but you weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

His greed to be right was popular during your arguments, but of course he never saw it that way.

Stepping in front of you, Andrew awkwardly tried blocking Pedro from your view to calm him down. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Andrew began speaking. "Look man, maybe now isn't the right time to be discussing this." Giving a slight nod to the street, he continued. "There's paparazzi nearby, we don't want this getting out."

Faking a laugh, Pedro tilted his head before glancing over Andrew's shoulder to meet your eyes. "I'm sure the paparazzi won't be at fault for that one, right y/n?"

God, you hated how petty he would become when provoked. It was one of the rare traits that made him so unattractive and you hated how you shared it.

Maybe you both are just too toxic for each other if you can't be near one another, after months, without fighting- even if you did start it. It was a clear sign after all.

Glaring, you were about to break and fight back until a familiar SUV pulled up. Internally cheering for the literal perfect moment, you slowly ignore his presence and make your way to the car door as he scoffs.

"So you're just going to leave again, like always," he flares, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull the door open. "You can't be serious."

Groaning loudly, you slam the door shut and march over, facing him head on as his strong expression never falters. Instead, he released his arms to his sides and angrily looked down at you. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

Gasping, Shailene and Florence look at each other in disbelief as Andrew scratched the back of his neck, trying to process where this may be leading to.

Nowhere good, that's for sure.

Before Pedro could speak, you harshly place your hand over his mouth to shut him up. Which he did, but he was certainly not happy by your actions. "Yeah! I'm the one who caused all of this-" you start as you feel your adrenaline going crazy. "-but it's done. Over. Nothing we can do now to change what happened and if you're so worried about it, I'll make a public apology if it means I won't ever have to deal with you again."

Frowning, he snatches your hand away from his face that causes Andrew to wince at the rough contact. "Worried? You think I care about what happened in there?"

You swear you could see sadness fill his eyes as they hid under the blaring anger that was presented. He didn't dare to look at any other direction but your own, scared if he did you would run away again.

But he knew deep down that was coming, soon.

"Why else are you this upset with me-"

"Because you act like we never happened!" he interjects, exclaiming loudly as your mouth shuts. "You-" he begins, running his hand over his hair in frustration, "-you pretend like I don't exist. That we weren't together for all those years and for what? Why do I deserve to be treated like shit in the end? Why am I the only one trying-"

"Trying?!" you shriek, laughing sarcastically as he sighed in response, not taking your tone well. "Really? I don't recall you trying to reach me after you left me-"

"Left you? You changed the locks to the damn house! I couldn't come back in-"

"You still left!" you yell, causing him to flinch by your increase in volume.

Feeling the warmth of someone's hand on your shoulder, you could already tell it was Shailene's by the rings on them. "Maybe we should go. It's getting late and soon people will be coming out..."

Slowly breaking eye-contact with Pedro, you nod and back away. You were done with this conversation and you surely didn't want to even attempt to talk things over when you already knew you both needed help in order to even let things go.

But letting things go didn't mean reconciling.

The sight of you walking away from him terrified him when he knew it may be the last time he was ever going to be face to face with you again for a while. He didn't want to give up, not now when he finally had your attention after months of trying to bump into you.

That's hard when you blocked him on everything and instructed your neighborhood security he was not welcomed to see you weeks after you changed your locks. Of course he could've just waited until you left the gate to trap you, but he wasn't a stalker.

Slamming the door shut after you opened it, Pedro leaned his back against it to halter your movements. Freezing at his quick actions, you try pushing him away but he doesn't budge.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend," he blurts out, breathing heavily as he blocked your hands from grasping the door handle. You immediately pause as he continues to let his thoughts flow freely out of his mouth.

Did he watch that interview? Impossible, he was walking the red carpet. He couldn't have had time to.

"I know you said that to seem happy or I don't know, make me jealous? Fuck, you could've said that to fake it for the cameras but I'm not going to stand here and act like you don't love me."

Choking from his last statement, you immediately try pushing him away from the door to get in, even sending a look over your shoulder, you glare at your friends who sheepishly stand there not helping, too invested to intervene.

Those little nosy bitches.

Finding your wrists, Pedro stops your forceful shoves and lowers your trembling arms. "You still love me."

Not being able to move, you were stuck in his trance. Maybe it was from all the chaos happening and your emotions spiraling out of control, but you felt the sudden urge to give up.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, crying, being mad whenever his name popped up.

You wanted all of this to stop.

Gripping the back of your neck, he leaned in and sent you a hopeless look before pulling your body closer as a way to find comfort and security. "And god, I still fucking love you and you know that."

With that, you were snapped back into reality.

Finding all the power you had left in you, you yanked your body out of his arms and jumped back before he could catch you. Angrily glaring at him, you make sure there's enough distance so he wouldn't latch himself back on you before speaking your mind.

"Don't say that," you spit out, redness filling your face as your fury kept growing. "Don't say 'you know that' when you didn't seem to when you were constantly out with your ex without telling me!"

The dropping jaws behind you went unnoticed as you stared Pedro down, catching the way his face ached with agony the longer you two continued your shared meltdown.

This was getting out of hand and you both knew it.

"Why would I tell you when I knew this is how you'd react?" he snapped back, his hurt now forming into irritation by how ignorant you were being. He knew he did nothing wrong, so why couldn't you believe him? "Nothing happened and you know that."

Pointing a finger at him, you release a snarky smirk as he tried to contain his calm this time. You were getting on his nerves bad. "Hiding secrets with someone you were intimate with for five fucking years is deceiving," you huff, gripping the bottom of your dress. "and you know that."

Before he could fight for his defense, you completely shun him. Speedily avoiding his following presence, you make it to the passenger door of the SUV before he could block in and jump inside.

However, your movements weren't fast enough as he gripped the door hard, not letting you close it. Anxiously sighing, he lowered his head to keep contact with you as you ignored his close proximity, focusing on finding a stern hold on the door so you can shut him out, again.

Leaning in closer, he shakes his head. "We need to talk about t-"

"You didn't want to talk about it last time because you it was your own business remember," you intervened as he closed his eyes in exasperation. "What did you say again? 'This isn't about you. Stay out of it.' I'm out now so you can go."

"I was angry and ups-"

"Andrew!" you call out, causing Pedro to stop talking and confusingly gaze you. "Can you please help? I really want to leave."

Pedro let out a loud scoff, returning his past hurt look as you simply waited for your friend to rescue you. Within seconds, Andrew came by your side and sent Pedro a look of sorrow, not really sure how to make him feel better by his wanted removal.

He didn't need to do much as Pedro backed away himself, shaking his head and sent you one last glance of betrayal. "I'm fucking done," he declared, walking backwards and you prayed your sudden feeling of panic wasn't on full display.

"I'm not going to waste my time anymore when its no use." With that, he made his way back to the building, muttering a swift "have a great life" before aggressively pulling the door open and disappearing inside.

Ignoring the presence of people around, you stared at the windshield in front of you as Andrew stayed by your car door, not wanting to close it just yet.

You didn't want to admit it, but you felt your chest tighten as you began to feel uneasy. Was this it? Did you finally get what you wanted?

Or what you thought you wanted?

Of course you wanted this, now you could move on.

You had even forgotten about Florence and Shailene until the sounds of the back door opening flooded through your ears as they hopped in and made a seat for themselves.

As an intense wave of guilt took over, you immediately turned your back to face them for your explanation until Florence waved her hands to make you stop. "You don't need to explain anything right now, all I want is for you to relax."

Sighing, you slowly nod and turn back towards the front to see Andrew give you a small, condoling smile before gently closing your door, trying not to smash your feet or dress in the process.

Awkwardly gazing to the driver who was cautiously scanning over you making sure you weren't going to puke or breakdown, you send him a sad grin. "I'm sorry...for causing a scene."

He chuckles, shaking his head as you felt your cheeks burn from how embarrassed you were. You must've looked so childish fighting with a grown man over your secret relationship. "Don't worry, as long as I get a big tip you can do whatever you want."

Frowning at his response, your eyes widen as he laughs louder, his body shaking from how funny he thought this miserable situation was. "I'm only joking, I would never let a woman tip after dealing with an unfaithful ex."

Sitting up straighter, you send him a surprised look. "So you think he was cheating, too? Right? I'm not cr-"

"Okay! Let's not continue this conversation anymore," Shailene cuts you off and nods to the driver. "Please drive us to her house."

Your driver sends you a promising wink before starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot to hit the busy streets of the city. You wish you could remember the rest of the car ride, but sleep took over after the car passed the third traffic light.

But as you finally got to forget about the recent incident, little did you know it would haunt you the moment you woke up.

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creedslove · 1 year

Text

BETRAYED - PART TWO

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, Pedro being a dick

A/N: I'm so sorry but I can't manually tag anyone on the post, the app won't just let me do it!

1.6k words

PART ONE

When Pedro woke up in the next morning he knew he had screwed up. He knew he had screwed up bad. Though he barely remembered what had happened, he just had a gut feeling he'd screwed up. His head was pounding from his excessive drinking the night before and his back was sore, he groaned in pain as he shifted in bed and flashes of what happened the night before crossed his mind.

Clothes flying around the room, scattered on the floor, sloppy kisses, dirty touches, he had no idea how he'd look at you and tell you your night together didn't mean what you probably thought it meant. He swore to himself he wouldn't touch you, no matter how bad either of you might want, he knew he couldn't lead you into thinking you had a chance of anything romantically happening between you both. He sighed heavily before turning in bed and being shocked to see you were not the woman who was lying next to him.

If he hadn't slept with you, then, who did he sleep with? What was her name? He had no idea. The man cursed under his breath as the stranger slept deeply in his bed and grabbed his phone. He felt his heart pounding with anxiety, worried he'd done something embarrassing in public, but luckily, he hadn't. He was still the internet's sweetheart.

He let out a sigh of relief and managed to get out of bed, stumbling towards the bathroom and getting under the shower so he would clear his mind. The cold water poured over his naked body as he rested his forehead against the wall tile, he was definitely too old for that routine or partying, drinking, fucking. He shook his head as he replayed everything that happened the night before, from getting styled, to taking you to the gala, dancing with you, having a few drinks and then leaving with another woman. She got him horny, he was a man after all, he was single and he was free to be with whoever he wanted, so he decided to end his night with some female company. What was so bad about that?

But Pedro knew what was that bad about that. He simply ditched you for someone else, he already knew about your feelings and even if the two of you pretended it didn't exist, he was conscious enough to know it wasn't polite to make you go back home on your own because he'd found something better to do. As his towel hung wrapped around his waist, he checked his phone again, it explained why you hadn't replied to any of his drunk texts. He knew he'd play it cool and let you take your time.

Exiting the shower, he found the naked stranger in his bed, and god, she was gorgeous. She smiled at him, noticing how his gaze burned her skin. Pedro knew there was nothing he could do for Y/N at that moment, so he just shrugged and jumped into bed again, letting the woman tangle her legs around his body.

•••

You had a rough day as everything that happened insisted on being on your mind. No matter how much you tried to forget it or let it go, you were brought back to that night every time you closed your eyes. Your face still burned with the shame and humiliation you felt. Even if no one seemed to have noticed, you never felt so exposed to Pedro before. And you also couldn't believe the nerve he had to drunk text you during the night, he repeatedly asked if you'd arrived home safely, as if he cared about it at all. If he did, he wouldn't have told you to take an Uber home while he drove that skank back to his house, undressed her and fucked her all night long. You honestly felt sick to your stomach just to imagine him grabbing his phone to send you a text while she probably had her mouth or other holes busy with him. At that moment, you wanted to erase Pedro from your existence, and hoped he would give you a break, not wanting to face him at all.

However, it took him a week before he was again after you, he texted you at random hours during the day, always asking you if you wanted to facetime or hangout. It baffled you how he simply acted as if nothing happened and was unable to give you space when you clearly didn't want to be social. You always declined his invitations and though you still replied to his messages, anyone who had access to them could tell you were being nothing but polite and distant from him, because that's exactly what you wanted: distance.

Pedro on the other hand, just couldn't accept that, you out of every single person in the world would never do that, I mean, stay away from him? Not a chance. He knew you'd rather be by his side as a friend than be without him, and he wasn't afraid to admit he was that selfish. He didn't want you out of his life, even if he couldn't give you what you wanted, but at the same time, he couldn't sacrifice his freedom like meeting women because of you. So once again, he told himself he would accept your decision of having a break for him, but he wasn't going down without a fight.

Showing up at your job at the end of your shift was the solution he came up with. In his mind, it was the perfect plan. There were enough people so you'd be too shy to tell him off, but not crowded enough to drag everyone's attention.

You were just finishing your tasks with some of your co-workers when you saw him standing there. He was in his regular sweater, glasses on and a messy hair that showed he'd been out in the wind. He smiled sweetly, his warm brown eyes scanning the tight jeans you were and the high knee boots had on.

"Hey Y/N, can we talk?" He asked as if nothing had happened, he stared into your eyes with his puppy ones and slowly took both hands to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them gently.

"I missed you, mi cariño" he mixed the two languages knowing damn well how that made you weak at the knees.

You're heart raced and your breathing wasn't steady anymore, the butterflies got all agitated and you bit your lips, before reminding you it wasn't real, it was just one of his tricks, how Pedro learned to read you over time and used this on his favor.

You gently held his hands and took them away from your face "I'm sorry, I was busy" you gave him a lame excuse and he knew it was bullshit, but still, didn't care at all.

"It's okay, princesa, I wanted to see you… wanna go for a coffee?" He asked sweetly and frowned softly at your refusal. You had never said no to going out with him.

"I really can't, Pedro, I'm still in the middle of tasks here and I can't leave early" you half lied as you were indeed very busy but if it was any other occasion, you would always make time to him.

He sighed and took a step back "alright hermosa, just… stop by Saturday night, I'll have some friends over, it's our group and I'd really like to see you there, you know it is never the same without you" he said in a sweet way and said goodbye, leaning towards you and pecking your cheeks, dangerously close to your lips.

•••

Saturday arrived faster than you could tell, if you were excited about the dinner party the week would've probably dragged itself, but as you were still feeling awkward, in a blink of an eye, you found yourself checking your makeup in front of the mirror. You didn't take long to get dressed and knew you should get going, so you wouldn't be too late. You decided to take an Uber instead of driving, unsure of how much you'd drink. When your screen lit up, the first thing that drew your attention was the headline to some high profile gossip website that said

'Pedro Pascal seen with mysterious beauty blonde as he's out'

You felt your hand shake lightly and your whole body heat up again, clicking on the link and being redirected to the article that said he was spotted a couple of weeks ago walking down the street with the woman whom you immediately recognized as the skank from the party. The text said some fan recognized him and snapped a picture of the two while out for lunch but it only went viral on TikTok two weeks later.

You could see she was still wearing the same dress she did at the party which was an obvious proof they'd slept together and she didn't have spare clothes to change while he took her out for lunch.

He took her out for lunch. The son of a bitch had told you to go home by Uber late at night knowing you had drunk considerably and that could make you an easy target in case the driver or anyone else had bad intentions. And yet, he made sure to take her out for lunch and drive her home like a real gentleman.

You couldn't believe what you were reading, as angry tears blurred your eyes, you threw your phone onto the bed and began taking off your clothes. To hell with Pedro and his dinner party. Judging by his behavior in the last few weeks, there was a huge chance the skank would be there as well, and you would not humiliate yourself like that, not for him, not for anybody.

"Fuck you Pascal" you mumbled under your breath as you removed your makeup and turned off your phone.

-----

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed it!!! Part 3 is coming soon!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal angst #male actors #hot actors #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

if the door wasn’t shut

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: months of travelling with joel and ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.

▹— a/n: i don’t like the second half of this one D: but i made you guys wait long enough so i apologise!!! been super busy so this is v rushed but i hope you enjoy nonetheless

▹— warnings: angst, loss of loved ones, tlou ep 5/6 spoilers, father figure joel, reader is really scared, not proofread

masterlist | PART TWO

howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Had you known that those days in Boston QZ would’ve been the last peaceful ones for a long time, you think you might’ve treasured them more. Held them closer, let the edges sharpen when you thought of them, rather than seeing only blurred images, the memories faded.

You wouldn’t have believed it if somebody had told you. The life you lived in Boston was flawed, at best, but it was your life. Filled with violence and bloodshed, sure, but there were things you could control. Things that Joel and Tess had always made sure you could control.

Out in the wide world, the facade of control that the two adults had always kept up crumbled to dust in your hands, lost to Infected and hunters and shelters in the strangest places.

It was a difficult shift in your reality, and you tried to hide it from Joel. He had already given you so much, hell, he and Tess had provided you with a home, even when they had no obligation to do so. You owed them more than your life.

When you had met Ellie, you immediately disliked her. She grated on you, her biting words and humorous comments doing nothing but fueling your growing dislike of her. She was childish — she acted her age, showed her fear, and it was something you just couldn’t understand. You were far too used to closing down the emotion behind your eyes, to shutting away all of your baggage in a box deep in your mind.

It had worn you down, eventually. Hating her was much harder than you expected it to be, especially when she looked at you for the understanding she knew you possessed. You even watched as Joel softened up to her, far faster than he had done with you, and you couldn’t help but follow in his example, as you always tried to do.

Hushed conversations when following Joel’s tense figure, something young passing over you, something that had seemed so… far away. You had always thought that bonds like this could only exist in the world before your own, trust Ellie to prove you wrong.

But one gained friendship didn’t quite make up for all the losses. It was Tess, to start with. Something that had singed your lungs and left you breathing the smoke, something of choked words leaving you when she had revealed the bite on her shoulder. She had looked at you, that understanding passing through her eyes, grief for a life she wouldn’t get to live. You understood the gaze far more than you wanted to, and you knew that the burns scarring your insides wouldn’t fade for a very long time.

Then, it was finding out that Bill and Frank were gone.

It seemed wrong. Something so untouchable, so guarded, how could it possibly be gone? You couldn’t understand it, couldn’t understand how the few people you valued seemed to be dropping away before your very eyes, faster than you could even reach for them.

The journey seemed pointless to you, after that.

Though you felt for Ellie, that selfishness that had always been drilled into you rushed in, drowning out the empathy towards her cause. It left you with something empty inside of your chest, and you couldn’t figure out a way to fill it. You weren’t sure you wanted to.

It only got worse.

Warm days turned colder, the nights going to something nearby freezing, and then there was the events of Kansas City. You had been so sure Joel was going to die, that you and Ellie would follow soon after, that you couldn’t move. Your legs seemed frozen to the spot, and even as you heard the struggle in the other room, it didn’t quite register.

It was only when Ellie managed to get Joel through to the room you were hidden in that you managed to snap out of your fear-induced haze. Your eyes were cloudy, and after that, it was so hard to focus.

You and Ellie had found some comfort when Sam showed up alongside his older brother, Henry. They were a breath of fresh air in the hellscape of a city, and for once, you witnessed true childhood. Saw it in the way Sam scribbled on his board, in the way he laughed at whatever Ellie had written on it. It was contagious, almost.

That was probably the happiest you had been since leaving Boston, and it all fell apart so quickly. Like the first sparks of a fire squandered by the downpour of a storm.

You can’t even remember much of it. Not the big parts, anyway. You remember the little things, like the colour of Sam’s hoodie, or the splinters you got from the floorboards as you fell backwards, scrambled away from the only semblance of childhood you’d ever had. You remember looking to Henry, something in your chest begging to be let out, but choking on it before it could escape. Your remember the sound of something splattering against the wall, and you remember Joel touching your arm after the burial.

Everything was blurring together, but one thing stood out; that overwhelming fear that threatened to sweep you away with every sound you heard, every flash of movement in darkness, every loss you witnessed.

Each day it became harder to shake away the haze to your eyes, harder to feel something other than scared, harder to close that box in your brain and leave those big feelings in there. It became so prevalent, all of it weighing you down, pressing tightly against your shoulders, and somewhere along the line you knew that Joel and Ellie had noticed.

Whether it was your withdrawn behaviour, or the gaping hole ripped into your chest, you weren’t entirely sure. But they knew. Perhaps not to the extent that you believed them to, but they knew something wasn’t quite right.

And now it was the cold threatening to take the three of you — it was freezing the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, and you really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It had been months since Henry and Sam, but it felt like it had been both no time at all, yet so far away. Everything still felt so raw, so fresh, despite time passing as normally as ever.

Joel had somehow managed to find winter supplies for the three of you, consisting of a coat and gloves, a hat that you let Ellie take. It was enough to keep you all alive, but it didn’t stop the chill seeping into your very bones, making it feel all the more harder to keep going.

It got to the point where you just didn’t want to. Couldn’t.

“Come on,” Joel said, your name falling from him as he patted your shoulder, all of his supplies already packed up, “Time to go.”

Getting up seemed impossible, so you didn’t. Just let your eyes glaze over and watched as Joel and Ellie grabbed their weapons, glancing outside of the cabin you’d taken refuge in. Joel looked back to you, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you hadn’t packed up any of your things, hadn’t even moved.

He looked at Ellie, frowning when she noticed, too. He made his way over, crouching down with aching knees, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Kid, we gotta get moving.” Joel said, shaking your shoulder the slightest to gather your attention. You just looked at him, shaking your head. “C’mon. We don’t have time for this.”

“I don’t wanna go anymore, Joel.” You told him, finally admitting the words that sounded so much like defeat. You hated that the world had won, but you were so tired of fighting that you just couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lose.

Joel shook his head, eyebrows creasing, an expression close to dumbfounded crossing his face. He couldn’t understand.

“We’re closer than we’ve ever been!” Ellie said encouragingly, the biggest smile she could muster on her face. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in her direction, instead looking down to where your fingers pulled at the loose threads on your sleeping bag.

“I can’t,” You said, much closer to tears than you had even realised. “I can’t keep doing this. Joel, I wanna go home.”

His frown just deepened, uncertainty present in every feature on his face. Joel didn’t know how to handle this, and there really wasn’t that much time to do so.

“Kid…” He sighed, before sitting down properly beside you with a pained breath.

“No, Joel, I— I want to go back. I want all of this to go away. I want Tess.” You admitted, heart pounding so hard just at the mention of the woman you had lost, and it was painful. Your chest aches the more you thought about it, and there was the realisation that you were homesick. Though you weren’t sure if that’s as for Boston, or for Tess.

“There is no goin’ back, kiddo. Tess… she’s gone. Nothin’ we can do about it.” Joel said, taking a moment to steady the shake in his voice after saying her name. It was just as painful for him as it was for you.

“I’m… I’m scared.” You confessed, voice barely a whisper, but it echoed around the empty walls of the cabin. The confession almost scared Joel, he knew you preferred to keep everything locked tightly, never admitting to the fear he knew was there. “All the time,” You continued, lips trembling around the words, “And it’s all I can think about. I can’t keep doing this. Every time we meet something I just get so scared, I can’t move, can’t speak.”

“It’s okay to be scared—” Joel tried.

“No, it’s not! It’s like I’m frozen, and every time, I lose someone. I can’t watch you guys die. I can’t do it.” You cut him off, the tears falling from your eyes as you looked at Joel.

He couldn’t do much more than frown, unsure how he could fix something like this. He knew the feeling more than you could imagine, so familiar it was the clearest thing he could remember. Joel had felt this way for years, but he was an adult. He had people relying on him, he couldn’t shut down in the way he knew you wanted to.

“We’re not gonna die,” Joel said, hesitantly. It was stupid to make promises in this world, especially when danger and the unknown lurked around every corner. “We’re all goin’ to be just fine. Listen to me, kid, we’re gonna get this done, and then we’re all gonna find somewhere, no infected, and we’ll just live. But we need to get through this, first.”

You shook your head, turning away from him, and he glanced to where Ellie stood, the guilt flooded onto her face.

“You two listenin’?” Joel asked, beginning to pick up your things and shove them into your backpack. “We’re getting close now. It’s almost over. Got nothin’ to worry about.”

“He’s right,” Ellie said, quietly, passing Joel something to put in your bag. “Let’s just get this over with.”

They packed up your things around you, Joel grabbing your arms to help you to your feet, and Ellie linked arms with you as soon as you were up. Together, they managed to get you out of the cabin, back out into the cold.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You had been so sure that one of you was going to die when the people on horses showed up, guns trained on each of you in turn. You thought it was going to be Joel when he shoved you and Ellie behind him, his head spinning around, taking count of the people who were a danger to you.

Then, they brought out their dog, and your heart stopped when they directed it towards Ellie. It was going to be her, you were almost sure of it, thought that it would get a whiff of something from the bite scarred over her forearm.

You held your breath for a long time, not able to let it go even when the dog settled, playing happily with Ellie. Surely, these people would shoot you, regardless. They certainly didn’t seem very friendly.

But no, they were taking you back to their town, with you and Joel sharing a horse while Ellie rode on her own. You’d never ridden on a horse, and before, you may have enjoyed the experience, but you could only feel that suffocating fear that made you choke on your words, so scared that these people were taking you to their town just to kill you. Or worse. You’d heard of people who do worse.

You couldn’t get the words out to express your concern to Joel, forced to stay silent and cling on to him as the three of you made your way past the walls, surrounded by strangers. You shared a look with Ellie, that nervous understanding shared between the two of you once more.

Your fingers twitch, aching to wrap around your gun, but that was the first thing these people had taken. Then it was your knife. And then the axe Joel had you storing in the side of your bag. It didn’t help that helpless feeling, that fear clogging your throat.

Joel’s tense frame loosens suddenly, something like relief sinking into his bones as he shouts, “Tommy!” A man immediately looking up from where he was stood atop of some scaffolding. Joel slides off of the horse, handing the reigns to you, before meeting his brother halfway in a tight hug.

Ellie frowns, and you understand the furrow to her brows as you looked at Joel and his brother. He was all the two of you had.

The two of you stick together as you follow Joel to wherever his brother is leading the three of you, sharing nervous glances and only just about relaxing when you’re seated with hot meals in front of you.

You did your best to tune as much of the conversation out as possible, even ignoring Joel’s comment about slowing down, as you shoved as much food as you could into your mouth while the opportunity was there. After all, who knew how long this would last?

Ellie kicked your leg when Tommy mentioned about a tour, the two of you reluctantly leaving your plates behind to follow the three adults. Maria went on with her touring speech, talking about when and how they settled in the town, with Tommy pitching in about the shared resources. It was only when she talked about separating you and Ellie from Joel that your attention was really caught.

“Joel.” You said, urgency in your voice, a pleading look sent his way as he wrung his hands together, his brother already heading in his direction.

“You’ll be fine.” He said to you and Ellie, nodding in your direction and missing the look of defeat you and Ellie shared as he walked away.

“Shall we?” Maria asked, looking between you and Ellie. She was half-turned away already, but caught the way you both gazed nervously at Joel’s turned back. The two of you nodded, following behind her as she made her way through the town, clearly as familiar to her as the back of her hand.

Ellie answered all of Maria’s idle questions whilst walking alongside her, though her answers were slightly withdrawn. It comforted you, even the slightest bit, to know that you weren’t the only one who was feeling distrustful towards this place. That you weren’t the only one on edge.

Maria opened the door to the house you, Ellie and Joel were meant to be staying in, swatting a hand in front of her face as dust rose up from the untouched surfaces.

“Homely.” Ellie commented, stepping around Maria to peek into the living room, and then the kitchen, whilst you remained beside the door with Maria.

“It’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm. And it’s got running water.” Maria said, despite this being more than any of you had had in a very long time. She smiled tightly at you, head dipping as she looked around. “Make yourselves at home.”

“When do I get my gun back?” You asked, probably the most you had spoken since your slight… outburst at the cabin, just a few days prior.

“Kids ‘round here aren’t armed. Nobody is.” Maria answered, eyebrows creased as she looked at you.

“Right, well I’m not a part of your commune, or whatever, so I want back what’s mine.” You replied, with more heat to the words than would’ve been considered respectful. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to care, though, because how were you meant to defend yourselves if you had no weapons? Especially considering Maria clearly didn’t want Joel here, and by extension, you and Ellie.

Maria sighed, a slight exhale from her nose, and you stepped away from her, looking towards Ellie, who stared right back at you with something nervous in her gaze. “We’ll talk about all this later, okay? How about you guys go take a shower, and I’ll grab you some new clothes.”

Ellie nodded, practically leaping up the stairs, and you heard doors slamming open until she finally found the bathroom, yelling an: “Aha!”

“There’s just the one shower in this house, but if you wanna have one now, mine and Tommy’s house is just across the street.” Maria offered, kindly.

“I’d rather wait.” You replied, voice snappier than you expected it to be, but you bounded up the stairs and flopped down in the first room you found.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Ellie had taken forever in the shower, so it was a while before you finally took your turn. As much as you hated to admit it, the warm water cleared away much of your bitterness towards this place. It felt good. Finally being clean, properly clean, after going so long living off of what little you could take when travelling across the country. You hadn't had a shower like this since Bill and Frank’s — and you hated thinking of it.

Maria had been around earlier, bringing two piles of clothes hanging in each arm, dumping them on the bed outside of the bathroom Ellie had been showering in. You hadn’t acknowledged her, so she had nodded and left quickly.

You didn’t exactly enjoy feeling like you owed anybody anything, but you had to admit that slipping on the clean clothes that Maria had left felt good. Wearing the long sleeved t-shirt underneath a thick jumper was probably the warmest you’d been in a long time, not that you would’ve admitted that to anybody.

The small part of you that had been numbed for the past few weeks began to thaw, and you felt almost embarrassed of how you had treated Maria earlier on — despite you having every right to act in such a manner. So, with a huffed breath of annoyance, you decided to follow the note the woman had left, and made your way across the street.

She had shouted to come in almost as soon as you had knocked, and you opened the door hesitantly.

The first thing you noticed was the sound of hair scissors, and it sent a pang through your chest. Then you heard Maria and Ellie chatting, and followed the noise. The chalkboard in her living room caught your eye, and you frowned as you passed by it.

“What’s going on?” You asked, eyebrows drawn together as you stepped into the room to see Ellie putting up her short hair.

“Just a trim,” Maria said, waving the scissors in her hand, “You’re up next.”

She noticed the way you tensed, drawing your arms back up towards your chest as your eyebrows furrowed further. It was defensive, the way you immediately curled in on yourself.

“No, no, I— I don’t want my hair cut.” By you were the words missing from the sentence, going unsaid but not unheard as one of your hands reached up to hold onto the too-long ends of your hair. They were splintering, and unhealthy, but you couldn’t do it.

The last person to cut your hair had been Tess — a memory you treasured, held so close that it almost hurt to think about. It was one of those things that had come naturally at the time, but felt so taken for granted once Tess was gone. You could remember the evenings so clearly, one of the only times that she allowed herself to come across as something almost maternal.

It would feel like you were betraying her, her memory, to allow someone else to take scissors to your hair. It was a job that belonged to Tess, and Tess only. You pretended it didn't hurt, the length your hair had grown. She would’ve never let it get this long.

Maria frowned, but seemed to take your defensive words and body language for a good enough answer. She placed the scissors on the counter, an act of truce, if you had ever seen one.

“Okay,” She said, hands up in surrender, before she reached to the counter and grabbed the coat that had been laid there. “Here, put this on. We’re going to the movies.”

You had no choice but to do so, tugging the coat on and resorting to holding it closed with your arms folded across your chest when your fingers trembled on the zipper. Ellie glanced at you with a frown, and checked you were following her and Maria out of the door, just huffing out a small sigh as you closed the door behind you, hurrying to catch up.

Sitting around a bunch of kids was one of the weirdest things to happen to you. You’d spent most of your life surrounded by only Joel and Tess, occasionally Bill and Frank, hell — Ellie was the first person your age that you’d really spoken to. After everything the two of you had been through, being surrounded by children felt much stranger to you than being surrounded by adults.

You could understand adults, to a certain extent. Kids… were a different story. So transfixed on the movie projected on the wall ahead, which you couldn’t understand. You felt vulnerable, sat in the middle of the room. Out of the loop, even, as adults watched and chatted around the edges of the room.

It was why you went to find Maria whilst Ellie followed Tommy out of the place, confused on why she had brought you here. “What am I meant to be doing here?” You asked her, when you finally found her standing to the side, gazing at the movie.

“We’re at the movies,” She laughed, saying your name, “You’re meant to be watching the movie.”

“Why?” You asked, incredulously, because how did this help anybody? Watching fake people in an image against the wall might’ve fascinated you, but you were nervous. Paranoid. At any moment, they could have people breaking into the town, knocking down the walls, anything… so why waste time and people watching a movie? To you, it would’ve made more sense to have more of these people stationed as guards.

“Entertainment,” Maria offered, moving from where she had been leaning against the half-wall. “Whatever you wanna call it. You’re not out in the wilderness, anymore. You’re safe. Take some time, enjoy the film.” She told you, and you hated the sympathy that she held in her gaze.

You moved to say something, but followed Maria’s gaze to see Tommy walking back through the doors. Without another word to her, you were shoving your way through the crowd and pushing the door open, back out into the cold air.

By the time you found your way to the house on Rancher Street, both doors at the top of the stairs were tightly shut. You frowned, unsure why they would’ve shut them, and made your way up to the room Ellie was in.

“Ellie?” You whispered into the darkness of the room, seeing her turned away from the door as she lay on the bed. She was still, and remained quiet. With a sigh, you closed the door and crossed the hall, opening Joel’s door with the same results.

You tiptoed back downstairs, frowning as you laid a blanket across the couch, swatting the dust that rose to the air.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Waking up to an empty house stirred the panic that you had been storing away. You felt frantic as you tumbled up the stairs, ripping the covers away from the unmade beds as if Ellie or Joel could’ve been hiding beneath them. But finding nothing just made everything so much worse, because what if you were right all along?

Anybody could’ve come into the house, caught the two of them off guard, and what could they have done? All of your weapons were taken from you, which meant no defence, and no deterrent.

You were ripping the kitchen apart before you could think to do much else, pulling drawers out and sending the dusty contents crashing to the floor. In the end, you found nothing of use — the sharp cutlery had long since been taken, leaving dust in the empty compartment that should’ve held knives.

Your last resort was the plate you had smashed against the counter, leaving a dent in the material upon impact. Blood trickled down your cheek from a minuscule cut, the result of a tiny piece of ceramic. You grabbed the sharpest piece of the plate in a gloved hand, and marched out of the front door.

Upon entering Tommy and Maria’s house, you were greeted with nothing but silence, despite the impact the door had made against the wall when you had opened it. A small piece of paper on their kitchen counter caught your eye, and you snatched it up.

Going to the stables first thing. Love you - Tommy.

The edge of the paper was crinkled, and you figured that Maria must’ve seen it already.

Your run to the stables was frantic, and not at all subtle. People stared as you practically sprinted across the town, almost slipping on patches of ice that blended in with the snow. “Slow down, girl!” Somebody had shouted at you as you passed, but you just gripped the sharp ceramic tighter, barely feeling the way it had begun to tear at your glove.

“Joel, Ellie!” You shouted, almost hysterically, as you finally saw the two of them. Ellie was already sat upon a horse, holding the reins as Joel spoke to his brother. They both turned to face you as you approached, an almost defeated look matching each other’s expressions. “What—What’s going on?” You asked, stumbling into Joel and feeling him grasp on to your shoulders to get you to finally stop.

Joel shared a look with Tommy, who looked back at him with what was almost sympathy.

“Kid, I…” He sighed, rubbing a gloved hand down his face as his speech trailed off.

“What?” You snapped, gripping the ceramic tighter.

“Listen to me,” Joel said, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he said the words. “Me and Ellie are heading to the University—”

“Let—Let me grab my bag.” You told him, trying to turn away but feeling his grip tighten before he turned you back to face him, a bracing expression on his face. He looked almost pained.

“You’re not listening!” He told you, sounding far too close to frustration. “Me and Ellie. Not you.” He repeated, watching carefully the way your furrowed eyebrows fell, something so similar to grief presenting itself in the way your whole expression fell apart.

You looked to Ellie, only to find her gaze averted, and shook your head as you turned back to Joel. “What? You’re— You’re what? Leaving me behind?”

“It’s not fair for us to ask you to—”

You cut him off, stumbling back and away from his hands, and watched as they fell from the air where they had held on to you. “It’s not fair?” You asked, trembling from something other than the cold as you looked at the only man you had ever trusted.

The ceramic in your palm fell to the ground, fibres of your glove clinging to the edges of it. Joel frowned.

“Not fair?” You repeated, at the sound of their silence. “You know what’s not fair, Joel?” You questioned, stepping forward to push your hands against his chest, feeling your chest ache when he did nothing to stop you. “Following you two, all this way, just for you to fucking abandon me!”

“We’re not abandoning you!” Ellie said, then, her voice sounding just as childish as the words did. Because if they weren’t abandoning you, what were they doing? They hadn’t even said goodbye — if it weren’t for you running out here, after waking up to find them gone, you might have never even seen them again.

“Yes, you are!” You yelled at here, feeling your throat clog up as your vision went cloudy, “And after everything…—”

You stared between them, waiting for them to have a response, but neither of them did.

“I lost everything, following you here. Everything! It’s all gone. Tess…” You trailed off, feeling tears bubble at the corners of your eyes as you said her name. It was a betrayal, more than anything. If it weren’t for this whole adventure, Tess would’ve been alive. Bill and Frank, maybe not, but Tess.

“That ain’t fair, kiddo, we—”

“None of this has been fair. None of it! And you—you were just going to fucking leave me! How’s that for fair?” You asked desperately, despite knowing that no answer they could give would be what you wanted. All of your fear over losing them, it had never considered that they may leave of their own accord.

Maria said your name, approaching from behind you, and you didn't flinch when she placed a hand on your shoulder. You missed the pain on Joel’s face at the way you allowed her to comfort you, but had moved away from his attempts. She pulled you a step back from him, and another, until she finally turned you away as your tears spilled over.

Tommy shook his head when Joel made a move to follow the two of you, and you pretended not to notice their gazes on you as they strode by.

“How could they just…” Your voice broke off at the edges, and you felt the haze to your eyes returning as you looked at Maria, the realisation that you were alone hitting you harder than any of your fear ever had. That was fear; a possibility of what could happen, whereas this… this was reality.

And your reality was that nobody loved you enough to stay.

PART TWO

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller angst #joel miller father figure #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #joel miller platonic #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #heartpascal writes

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eufezco · 7 months

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SUPER SHY - JOEL MILLER x FEM!READER

SUMMARY – when Joel's keeping you company while you're showering, he sees something he wasn't supposed to.

english isn't my first language <3 // this is pure SMUT

A/N – omg it's been so long but i literally have no inspiration so if anyone has any request... also, i've been writing for the walking dead, especially daryl, but that's still in my drafts because i don't know if there's anyone interested in that. ANYWAYS, i hope this isn't so bad

He didn't mind. He truly didn't care. He was sitting on the toilet, bent forward, with his elbows on his knees and one of his legs shaking out of impatience. It was true that he'd rather be doing other things but with a bit of luck you'd be done soon and he'd leave. Although he didn't have much to do either, he was sure they needed some last-minute people to patrol.

He had been sitting on that toilet every night for at least thirty minutes every time you took a shower. Since you lacked music, you needed some other type of distraction and Joel wasn't the best for it but it was your only option.

"What was the last movie you saw?"

"I don't know. I can't remember."

"I'm sure you do remember, you are just too lazy to think. For me, it was Spiderman, my brother took me to the movies but I don't remember enjoying it. What was yours?"

"I think it was Catch Me If You Can."

"Never heard of that."

Of course not, he said to himself. The sound of falling water made your voice sound fainter so he had to readjust his position to hear you better. His back was now against the toilet, he ran his hands over his face. It was starting to get a little hot inside the bathroom as well. Joel looked in your direction, trying to understand what you were saying but quickly looked away. Joel closed his eyes tightly and then opened them wide again without knowing what to do. When he leaned back and looked in your direction, he expected nothing, only the curtain that was hiding you, but instead, he found a perfect view of your round and wet ass.

Joel swallowed nervously and shook his head, trying to erase that image from his mind, but it was so perfect and the water slid so easily down it. No, no, no, fuck he mumbled, massaging his temples. The way his teeth would sink into your skin there, and they would mark your soft skin just right.

"Are you okay?" You peeked your head through the curtain. Your brow furrowed as you saw him looking away.

He nodded.

"Can you pass me the bathrobe, then?"

Fuck, you were doing this on purpose, he thought. He stood from the toilet and you waited behind the curtains. You went out of the shower wrapped in the robe.

"I'll leave so you can change." He announced. His eyes briefly looked away and moved down to your breasts covered by your bathrobe, he could see how hard your nipples were and how the drops of water slid down your cleavage. You raised your eyebrows and Joel never looked you in the face again. He tried to get out of the bathroom, ashamed enough already, when you blocked his way with your body.

"I saw you looking at me, Joel. You won't get away so easily."

He didn't know what to say. Should he apologize? Should he leave anyway? He'd been looking after you practically since this started, since you two met in the woods, the least he could do was apologize for looking at you in such an inappropriate way.

"When was the last time you saw a naked woman?"

Your question caught him off guard. Joel shook his head and took his eyes off you, knowing beforehand what you were about to do. The bathrobe slipped off your shoulders and Joel closed his eyes, not even daring to look at your reflection in the mirror. You couldn't be doing this to him, he was not like the boys you'd been hanging out in Jackson.

"Look at me."

He shook his head. You told him again and this time his eyes laid on yours. You flashed him a smile, how innocent sweet Joel.

"I want you to look at my body, Joel."

Joel called your name, shaking his head again and swallowing nervously.

"I know you want to do it, I saw how you looked at me before. I want you too, but this isn't going to work if you can't even look at me."

His eyes shyly moved from yours to your breasts. He took a glance and closed his eyes. You smiled victorious. You guided one of his hands to caress one side of your body. Joel dared to look at the path his hand was making through your body, how soft the skin of your waist felt against his rough fingers.

You led his hand to cup one of your tits. Your nipple immediately became hard on contact with his palm and your pussy was already clenching around nothing. You'd dreamed so many times about how would his touch feel, and he was barely applying any pressure, nor squeezing it or pinching your nipple, he was just holding your tit in his hand.

Your hand pinched his chin and made him look up at you. His eyes were bright, darker than you'd ever seen them before, and his pupils were big. You fluttered your lashes, inocently and your thumb caressed his lips. You came close enough to his mouth for your breaths to become one, you could feel his beard tickling your lips. You ran your tongue over his lips and he leaned in for a kiss, his lips were so soft and gentle against yours compared to the thick hair of his beard.

You pushed his shoulders and made him sit on the toilet again. His cock was so hard and ready for you, already leaking precum against the fabric of his underwear. He was still unsure about this, not because he didn't want to do it but because you were so beautiful and he was an old man that doubled your age, and his cock was so hard and already throbbing against his stomach, it was almost embarrassing.

Joel put both of his hands on your hips when you placed one of your legs on each side of his body. You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, giving it a couple of strokes and getting multiple groans from him. You could feel him twitching between your fingers. He was big, some black hairs like the ones on his head decorated the base of his cock and a prominent vein ran down its length, but the most important thing was, that he was thick. You could barely take it all in one hand, and you knew the stretch was going to be perfect.

You lined up his cock at your entrance, allowing only his tip to go inside you, and then you gently lowered yourself. One of your hands moved down to your clit and rub it to get used to the sensation of Joel filling you. He gave you all the time you needed but you were tight and he could feel his cock jumping inside you. Every time your fingers rubbed your clit your cunt clenched and squeezed him even harder.

"You good?" Joel asked, caressing one of your cheeks with the back of his hand. You nodded. "You sure? Oh, fuck-" He moaned when you started rolling your hips against his. Your movements were very delicate as your fingers continued working on your bundle of nerves, helping you to get even wetter and making it easy for you to take him. Joel could feel you dripping down the inside of his legs.

"Yeah, that's a good girl, fuck-" His eyes were locked on where you two connected although he could only see how his cock had completely disappeared inside your pussy. He was enjoying the way your tiny fingers played with your clit.

"Still good?" He asked again and you nodded. You suddenly stopped the movement of your hips against his and he was afraid that you'd hurt yourself. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, getting a firm grip there to help you lift your hips from his lap. You pulled him out of you, his cock glistening with your juices, and then you dropped yourself back down onto his cock.

A sharp moan came out of Joel's throat and his fingers sank into the flesh of your ass. You repeated that again and again, finally getting used to Joel's width and to the sting of him going inside you deeper and deeper each time. Your hands moved from his shoulder to his face, cupping both of his cheeks and guiding his lips to yours, the sounds that escaped your mouths became one. His hands massaged your breasts shamelessly this time, his palms rubbed your nipples while you leaned your head back, giving him perfect access to your neck.

"I can't- I can't anymore." You cried out, your movements becoming more and more sloppy.

"It's okay. You did well." He gasped, his hands on your hips slowly guiding your movements, giving you enough time to recompose. Joel helped you to wrap your legs around his body, so that when he stood up from the toilet, he could move you with him, his dick still balls deep inside you.

Joel sat you on the sink and he splayed your legs completely open. You sat up on your elbows, looking through your eyelashes as he was admiring how your pussy sucked him. His dick slid inside you easily, his thrusts were stronger than you thought they would be and they made your whole body shake with them. Your throat felt dry and the burn in the pit of your stomach felt warmer and warmer. You dug your nails into his shoulders and pulled him to you, chest to chest.

Your hips rolled involuntarily against his, and you nodded to everything he muttered at you through gritted teeth. Yes, you were a good girl. Yes, you were his good girl. Yes, your pussy belonged to him. Yes, you were about to cum. Yes, you wanted his cum, and yes, you wanted it inside. And who was he to deny you your wishes? With a groan coming straight from his chest and your legs shaking and closing around his body, you both came seconds apart.

Joel stayed inside you, his head resting on your shoulder as you played with the hair on the back of his neck. You giggled. "Look at the shy one."

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coffeeshades · 1 year

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credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

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

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

Simple as that.

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

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

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

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

You: Bummer. Sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

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

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

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

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

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

Until his eyes landed on you.

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••

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

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

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

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

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

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

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

That voice.

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

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

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

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

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

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

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

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

Although sometimes you have to admit you take it a little too far.

"Catch me if you can, Boba Fett wannabe!" you scream.

Pedro was chasing you through the set with a prop sword, trying to get you to stop teasing him about his costume. "You are one insult away from getting a taste of this sword!"

"Okay, tin can man!"

You were running away from him as fast as you could, hoping to find a place to hide before he caught up with you. You quickly hide behind one of the makeup trailers and peek out to see him come to a stop, catching his breath. He was wearing his Beskar getup, minus the helmet.

“Give up yet, old man?"

He laughs. "We're being extra cruel today, huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary pause and facing away from where you were hiding, you slowly inch closer to him, trying not to make a sound. As you get within arm's reach, you draw one of your prop knives from your costume pocket and hold it to his back. Using your free hand to hold him steady, you lean in and whisper in his ear, "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

He turns his head slightly, and you can see the smirk on his face. "That's my line, thief."

Before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. He takes hold of you and tightens his grasp on your waist. "Let me go, P!"

You struggle to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. "I am going to squeeze you so hard you will fart," he chuckles.

You snort. "You have such a way with words."

As you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you accidentally elbow him in the face, causing him to release his hold on you and stumble into a piece of plywood that had been propped up.

"Aw, fuck!" he cries out, clutching his nose.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" you rush to him, cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

He removes his hand from his nose, revealing a cut and a trickle of blood. "It's alright, just a bloody nose," he says calmly.

You touch his nose gingerly, and he winces in pain. "Nevermind, I think it is broken."

•••

You begged Jon to let you ride to the hospital with them; after all, this was your fault. When you get there, the doctors rush to Pedro's side and begin examining him.

If you weren't preoccupied with being mortified over this, you'd laugh.

The scene before you is straight out of a sitcom, with Jon frantically explaining the situation to the doctors, Pedro in full costume with fake injuries and blood that you were pretty sure the doctors thought were real, and you standing there with an expression that screamed: Hey! It's me! I did this!

After a couple of minutes of clearing up that it was an accident and that the blood coming out of his ears was fake and not the cause of a brain hemorrhage, one of the doctors led us to a room to examine his nose.

"It's not broken," the doctor said, as she prepared to clean the wound. "He's just going to need a couple of stitches."

"Oh great, we still need to finish a scene, and they're waiting for us." Jon replies.

"This will take 15 minutes, tops," she says, grabbing a tray of medical supplies. “I will be fast.”

"I'll call the guys," Jon tells you as he exits the room.

You nod in agreement and stand in a corner as you silently watch the doctor carefully clean, anesthetize and stitch up the wound. You feel relieved that it wasn't anything more serious.

After she finishes, Pedro thanks her, and she nods with a smile. "You're going to need to take some analgesics for the pain. I'm gonna go grab my prescription pad. I'll be right back."

She exits the room, and you walk over to Pedro. He moves his head slightly, showing off his nose.

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I can't believe I ruined your perfect nose."

"Who said it isn't perfect still?" he says it as if it were a challenge. His brow is arched, with the tiniest smirk hidden in one corner of his mouth.

"Don't start. I'm mortified."

"Tranquila, princesa. I said it was okay after you apologized 20 times on our way here," he reassures you. "Plus, now we have a funny story to tell during our press tour next year."

You sigh. "I guess you're right."

"You know," he says, "what hurts right now is that today is our last day of shooting. I can't believe it's been two months already. Time fucking flew."

Your heart sinks as you're once again reminded that this amazing experience is coming to an end. The day you've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and you're not ready to say goodbye. It's not like you already know you'll be back next year for the next season, but you're not ready to say goodbye to him and the daily routine you've formed, which mostly consists of breakfasts together, long hours on set, and late-night movie marathons.

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," you muttered, "gonna miss our little routine."

Pedro studies you. "Maybe we can extend it for a little while longer."

Not knowing where this is going, you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Pedro smiles, "I..I was thinking maybe... maybe you could come with me to Chile for Christmas with the family."

Your heart skips a beat as you process Pedro's words. You open your mouth slightly to say something, but you close it again, momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation.

"Uh… I know you probably have plans with your family,” he interjects, “but I thought this would be a good time for you to finally meet my father and the rest of the family, and—"

Before he could finish, you nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas in Chile with Pedro and his family, “Yes, I would love to."

You've never seen him smile as broadly as he does now, and you know that you have made the right decision.

New York City

December 15, 2018

“Dude, he invited you to his hometown with his family, and you still think that man has no feelings for you?”

“Taylor...” you paused, picking up a clothing item that had fallen to the floor. “It's just a friendly gesture.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he invites everyone to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Sureee.”

You didn't want to go there; you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't get entangled in what ifs, so your friend's teasing wasn't helping you keep those thoughts at bay.

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that. I know he doesn't,” you say, suddenly remembering that night when you overheard him telling Sarah how he felt about you. “Plus, as my agent, you more than anyone know I can't do relationships right now; my life's too busy."

Taylor finished zipping up the last of your bags for the trip and gave you a reassuring smile. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little fun, does it? And who knows—maybe he has changed his mind. Just enjoy the trip and have fun."

No, he hasn’t changed his mind.

“Yeah, I just want to have a good time, really. Things have been so good between us these past couple of months, It just feels...right again. I don’t wanna mess it up.”

"Understandable, bestie. However, I think you’re both making a huge mistake.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Thanks for helping me pack.”

“Thanks?” she scoffs. "I'm expecting a raise."

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

After the chaos of the day leading up to the flight, it was actually a relief to be sitting here. The large, comfortable seat, with your feet tucked up under you as you gazed out the jet window, felt very much deserved.

While the gentle buzz of the flight filled your ears, you laid your head against the window of the plane and watched the clouds and the seemingly endless expanse of sky fly by.

As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention on what was outside the plane rather than allowing your mind to wander to what would await you once you arrived at your destination. The mixture of excitement and exhaustion lulled you into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the journey that lay ahead.

•••

The taxi ride from the airport to the Balmaceda-Pascal's was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, but you couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder and curiosity as you took in the new surroundings. As the car comes to a stop in front of the house, you shoot Pedro a quick text.

You: I'm here, tonto.

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta.

Since you still had a few things to attend to in New York, he had arrived two days earlier. After insisting like a madman that he could pick you up from the airport and you insisting like a madwoman that you could easily get there on your own, he gave up and let you take a cab.

The driver has already gotten out of the car to wrestle the luggage from the trunk. You clamber out after him into the brilliant sunlight, the heat instantly making your travel outfit—which consisted of a pair of black leggings, a sweatshirt, and Pedro's Freaky Tales green hoodie—feel suffocatingly thick. The change in temperature is a shock to your system, having just come from New York's freezing climate.

“Hey you!” Pedro's booming voice interrupts your thoughts, “Nice hoodie. Where'd you get it?”

“Um, someone left it at my place a while ago, and I decided to keep it. It's really comfy.”

Pedro smiles and nods, "It suits you. You should wear it more often."

“Thanks, but not here,” you tell him, your face flushing from the heat. ”It's burning hot."

“Welcome to Chile, where it's scorching hot during the winter and freezing cold during the summer,” he says in a joking tone, as he tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Let's get inside, it's cooler.”

The moment you stepped into the house, you were greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning. The house was lovely. You take in the Mediterranean decor style and the large windows that let in natural light as you look around. On either side of the foyer, stone archways lined the way up two stories to an ornate ceiling.

As you make your way to the living room, you catch a glimpse of the various family pictures that adorn the walls. The living room was spacious and inviting, with plush couches and a fireplace that made you feel right at home.

Dropping your bags next to the stairs that led to the second floor, Pedro places a hand in your back and gestures you towards a hallway, “C'mon, everyone is out back.”

At the back of the house, tangled trees press close, the forest extending as far as you can see, and off to the left, in the meadow, a gazebo adorned with wild grapes stands within a smaller thicket of trees. Bright glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders swing in the branches, and the path cuts past a row of flowering bushes before curving onto a footbridge and then disappearing into the mountains on the far side.

It's like something out of a storybook. Charming, picturesque, and perfect.

“You're here!” A familiar voice drew your attention back to earth. “And right on time. How was your flight?”

Pedro's sister, Javiera, lit up with a smile as she hugged you tightly. You returned the embrace, grateful for her warm welcome. "It was long, but good nonetheless," you replied with a smile.

“Well, if it isn't the infamous best friend I keep hearing about?” you turned around to see Pedro's father approach you with a friendly smile on his face.

"Yup, that's me," you reply, extending your hand for a handshake.

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, shaking your hand. "Pedro talks about you all the time."

“I hope good things,” you chuckle, “and it's great to finally meet you too, Mr. Balmaceda.”

“Oh, please call me José,” he tells you, waving his hands. Just like his son, you notice that José has a warm and welcoming personality, making you feel at ease. “And please, make yourself feel at home; we're thrilled to have you.”

“No, he's thrilled to have a world famous superstar staying at his house,” Nicolás, Pedro's brother, retorts back at his father. Making everyone laugh and leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Oh, I don't know about being a superstar," you say lowly.

“Are you kidding?" Nicolás cuts you off as he takes a seat, "Don't be modest. It's literally an honor to have you here."

“Yeah, you're sooo cool,” Javiera's older son added.

"Okay, alright, that's enough." Javiera must have noticed your embarrassed expression. She reached out to you and held you by the shoulders, reassuring you. “Let's not overwhelm her with too much praise. Let's give her some space, she must be tired."

And she was right. The almost 12 hour flight has left you feeling exhausted, jet lagged, and in need of a very long nap.

"Vamos princesa, I'll take you to your room." Pedro turned around and led the way towards the room while you followed him closely, trying to keep your eyes open and fighting the urge to just collapse on the floor.

As you reached the second floor, your attention was drawn back to the house. “This place is so gorgeous, P.”

“We got it a couple of years ago. We wanted something a little bit bigger so we could have everyone over for vacations, and we also wanted something that felt like home, you know?”

“I love it,” you tell him.

“This is your room,” he says, jerking his chin at the door on the right, “and this is mine.”

He opens the door to the room on the left. His room, much like mine, is absolutely huge. The bed is along the wall immediately to your right as you enter, a recklessly comfortable looking king size bed doused under the weight of a fluffy duvet and an insane amount of pillows.

The bedding is bright white and contrasts sharply with the dark wooden floorboards. "Your bed looks like a big fluffy cloud," you say, giggling.

"It feels like one," he says, smiling. He can tell what you're thinking by the look in your eyes,"Go on, I know you want to."

Like a little kid, you start running towards the bed, feeling the softness of the plush carpet under your feet. As you sink into the bed, you realize that it's even more comfortable than it looks, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh.

“P, I’m never moving again,” you say, your voice drifting over to him.

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

“Hmm, why exactly?” you turn over onto your stomach and lean against your elbows to face him.

"Because it's my bed," he simply states, "and I have plenty of plans that don't include you spending the entire trip in my bed."

Bravery takes over, and you give him a playful smirk. "Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure those plans change then."

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Good luck with that, sweetheart.”

You know this is cruel. You were torturing yourself. Being so optimistic was cruel, but because of your longing and deep, hidden desires, you couldn't help but indulge in silly fantasies and play along.

“Alright, I'll go to mine,” you say with a forced smile as you get off the bed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I need to nap right now, or I'll die.”

“I will, uh, come get you for dinner later.”

“Sure, boss,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as you walk past him to leave the room.

“Sweet dreams.”

In the past four days, you've learned many things.

First, Chile was sickeningly beautiful. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the breathtaking scenery of the Andes Mountains made you feel like you were in a dream. It spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt, with each square representing a different aspect of its culture and history. From the bustling city streets to the serene beaches.

The food was also a highlight, and you're pretty sure you gained a few pounds from indulging in the delicious local cuisine.

“Here, try this one.”

“That's the biggest empanada I've ever seen in my life,” you exclaimed as you took a bite of the savory pastry, filled with juicy meat and vegetables. “This is so fucking good.”

Pedro chuckles. “It's filled with a mixture called Pino.”

“Okay, forget the manjar. This,” you say, mouth full, “is my new favorite thing in this country.”

Pedro gasps. “I thought I was your favorite thing in this country.”

You grin and give him a playful nudge. "Okay, fine. You're still my favorite, but this empanada might take the top spot."

“That's better,” you look up at him, trying not to melt then and there at the signature wide grin spread across Pedro's gorgeous face. “But you know, there's still plenty of time for me to prove that I deserve the top spot.”

You chuckle at his remark, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We'll see about that, Pascal," you reply, taking another bite of the delicious empanada and secretly hoping he succeeds in his mission.

•••

Second, Pedro's family were the warmest hosts you could have imagined, eager to share their traditions and stories with you. They accepted you as one of their own and made you feel like a member of the family.

They took you on various adventures throughout the city, showing you hidden gems that only locals knew about. The tradition of taking a trip to a hiking site outside the city whenever all of them got together was in motion and this year it was the Valley of the Moon's turn.

“That hike was so worth it, guys," Nico says, a little out of breath from climbing up the steep trail.

Damn right, it was. As you're standing atop a giant sand dune, you're bewildered by what you're witnessing. The view as the sun slips below the horizon is out of this world. The ring of volcanoes and surreal lunar landscapes of the valley are suddenly suffused with intense purples, pinks, and golds. It's the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen.

You quickly grab the camera that's hanging around your neck and start taking pictures, trying to capture the breathtaking moment before it fades away. “Guys, get together!” you shout, “A family photo with this stunning backdrop is a must.”

As you finish taking the pictures, Pedro's voice breaks the silence, “Javi, grab the camera and take one of us, please.”

You comply and hand the camera to her. Pedro sneaks a hand around your waist and pulls you close, “Smile, princesa.”

“Don't tell me what to do," you playfully retort, leaning into him and smiling for the camera.

•••

And third, Pedro has always had a thing for theatrics. Today, some of you decided to take a trip to the beach. The heat was unbearable, and the cool ocean water sounded like the perfect way to beat it.

He would often come out of the ocean dramatically, splashing water all around and pretending to be a sea monster to scare his nephews. As soon as he saw the waves, he ran towards them and jumped into the water with a loud roar. His nephews laughed and cheered him on as he swam towards them, pretending to be a giant creature ready to attack.

After spending most of the day in the water, you were sitting down on the sand, attempting to make sand castles with one of Pedro's cousins. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing, making you feel relaxed. “My god, he's like a kid,” you tell her, looking at Pedro as he continued to play with his nephews, now closer to the shore.

She laughs. “He's always been like this. As a child, he was always playful and energetic, and he never lost that spirit as he grew up. It's one of the many things we love about him."

The sandcastle you were working on was slowly starting to take shape. Pedro's cousin continued to build it and tell you stories about him, letting nostalgia wash over you.

She told you about his grandfather and how he used to take them to watch double features of old movies, and how that heavily influenced Pedro's love for storytelling and cinema. You didn’t know him then, and you'll never understand why it feels like you did. “But you know, one of my absolute favorite memories is when he recited Hamlet here on the beach with Grandpa."

“Actually, it was Death of a Salesman, cousin.”

His voice startles you as you turn to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face. "I do remember that day," he continued as he lowered himself onto the sand behind you, legs on each side of your body. He places a hand on your thigh for a brief moment as he settles behind you before removing it.

You want nothing more than to reach out and put his hand back on you, to insist he keep touching you but you don’t.

He starts helping you with the sandcastle, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his familiar warmth spread through your body. Droplets of water from his hair fall onto your warm skin, and the small elephant tattoo on his right inner thigh catches your eye as he reaches for a shovel, "I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it but lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the States.”

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.”

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I can reenact it for you.”

“Please do.”

•••

Pedro suggested you two go outside and stargaze with a glass of wine after returning from the beach. The evening summer breeze was much cooler than the daytime breeze. You were both sitting on the back porch, leaning back on the cushioned chair, the wooden floor creaking under your weight.

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Pedrito?”

You can't help but stare as Pedro throws back his head, a bellowing laugh escaping him into the quiet night air. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if that means another bottle of wine, then so be it."

He reaches for your glass, hands touching briefly, and pours you some more. Even in the dark, the blinding white of his smile and the twinkle in those achingly beautiful brown eyes are impossible to miss.

With the moon low in the sky, his silhouette was even clearer to you: the way the bridge of his nose dips into the top of the large glass, the delicate hold of his fingers on the stem, and the mess of his hair.

Cicadas screamed into the night air as the taste of the rich, velvety wine danced on your tongue. Now, slightly tipsy on the red wine, you were nearly too lost in your memory of the moment to notice that Pedro had turned his head from above to look at you. Clearly, your staring had captured his attention, but you went to stare resolutely at the night sky again.

He sobered quickly, but his eyes never left you. You felt the weight of his lingering stare and were thankful that the darkness of the night and warmth of the fire covered your suddenly flushed cheeks. “Excited for Christmas tomorrow?” you ask softly, trying to break the tension with a light-hearted question.

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile, "but I'm more excited that you get to spend it with us."

A warmth filled your chest, and if your cheeks weren't already blushing already, they certainly were now, but you wouldn’t look away from him. The meaning wasn’t lost on you. “Thank you for inviting me, really. I thought I was going to be sad, but you guys have made me feel at home."

Pedro frowns. “What do you mean? About being sad.”

“I kind of hate this season now because it reminds me how lonely I am,” you chuckle, gripping the wine glass slightly tighter. “And don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends, but after you spend years with someone, Christmas just feels different without them around, you know? It's like...” you trail off, trying to put into words the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you. “Like there's a void that can't be filled no matter how many people are around you. And-and it's not like I miss that person in particular, I just miss having someone.”

His unblinking eyes hadn’t left yours, and you continued, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally get that out of your system. “I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s just a reminder that things change. you meet people and you love them, and then you lose them. It's inevitable, and it happens to everyone.”

It falls quiet between you again, the familiarity of the years of friendship meaning you are both comfortable with it. The weight of what you just said still hangs heavy in the air until he nods slowly, breaking the silence. “I get it. I feel the same way somehow,” you tear your eyes away from the constellations above to stare at him quizzically, a raised eyebrow telling him to elaborate.

He huffs out a laugh, as if he's amused by your confusion or embarrassed by his own vulnerability, and continues, “I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't date. I'm saving myself from that.”

“Yeah, I guess now I am too,” you respond, nodding in understanding.

"Also, not to sound like an arrogant asshole—"

“Which you probably will anyway,” you add in a playful tone.

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he says mockingly. “But my schedule is busy, if I wanna be involved in something, I want to pay attention to it and nurture it. It takes energy to be with someone.”

“It's not arrogant, it's the truth. I was telling Taylor the same thing the other day,” you tell him. “I can't date because I don't have the time to, but...”

“But what?” Pedro interrupts.

“Don't rush me, dude,” you chuckle. “But I'm also human, and I have needs sometimes, and it sucks that I can't just go to a bar like a regular person and sit on the barstool, have a drink, and wait for someone to approach me so we can go to their place and have sex and forget about it the next morning,” you finally admit, staring down at your finger swirling over the rim of your glass.

“No strings attached," he adds, his voice scratchy. “I, um, ha. I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.”

“Hooking up with someone like that in our world would involve lots of NDAs,” you say, laughing.

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.”

His eyes were doing the thing, the Pedro thing, and you did your best to ignore the way your heart lurched. The moment was charged with tension, and you both knew that there was more to say, and since neither of you dared to break the silence, someone else decided to break it for you, clearing their throat loudly and making you both jump. You turn to see Javiera standing by the door, looking amused and a little bit smug.

"I just wanted to let you guys know the rest of us are going out for dinner, in case you're interested in joining us," she said, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Uh, no. Thanks, I'm beat. The wine has made me sleepy.”

“I'm gonna have to pass too, sis,” Pedro tells her. “You guys have fun.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with a sly smile. “We'll be back late!”

After she leaves, you stand up and stretch your arms, feeling the effects of the wine yourself. “Woah. Too much wine,” you chuckle. “I should head to bed now before I regret it in the morning.”

“Me too,” he breathes out as he gets up, collecting his glass and yours. "Goodnight, princesa," he adds with a smile before you head towards the door. “Goodnight, P.”

•••

As soon as you entered your room, you immediately hopped in the shower, hoping to wash away the exhaustion from the day and also the dirty thoughts that had been lurking in your mind.

The warm water cascading down your body helped ease the tension in your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh. After a few minutes, you stepped out and changed into fresh clothes.

As you lie in bed, the conversation you had an hour before with Pedro seems to replay in your mind.

I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cross that line again. The last time you took that black, bold line and made it gray, it came with consequences. But you're not known for making the best decisions when it comes to these matters anyway.

You start to feel anxious and restless, unable to quiet your thoughts or fall asleep.

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

As you walk out of the bedroom, everything is dark, meaning everyone is still out for dinner. You have only the soft glow of the city outside the large windows to guide your way.

Hesitating as you walk through the hallway towards the stairs, you slow your steps, not entirely trusting your eyes to keep you from running into anything in the dark, unfamiliar space in such low light. Before you reach the stairs, you notice the light underneath Pedro's room, casting a faint glow onto the hallway carpet.

He's still up, you thought.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were heading toward his room.

“Pedro?” you call out his name as you gently knock on the door, “You up?”

“Bathroom! Come in!” he screams. You reach the doorknob and push it open. The sound of water running fills your ears as you step inside. You plop down sideways on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, and wait for him to finish his shower. The chilly night air seeps in through the slightly open door of his balcony, making you shiver.

“Can't sleep?” His voice is soft and soothing as he walks out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and wearing only black boxers. You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the way just looking at his face, with his golden skin from all the sun exposure, the shadow of dark scruff on his cheeks, and his brown eyes crinkled by a soft smile, makes your heart race.

“Nope,” you mumble. “Too much on my mind, I guess.”

“Enlighten me, please,” he quickly replies, returning to the bathroom. You get off the bed, take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself, but the sight of him in those boxers makes it difficult. You know that if you start talking about what's really on your mind, things might get even more complicated between the two of you.

“Uh...” you huffed out a laugh as the scenario played in your head, your legs almost giving out as you felt your guts twisting. Your mouth fell slightly agape as he stepped back into the room, “What's so funny?” he inquired. You fidget with your fingers and look at him, still chuckling a bit, “That conversation we had earlier. I can't stop thinking about it,"

Pedro leaned against the bathroom door, his face puzzled, reflecting that he had no idea which of the many conversations you two had today you were referring to. “The one about hooking up, I mean. And how you wish you could do that too," you continue, not bothering to try and hide the small beginnings of a smile from Pedro's watchful gaze, entirely more interested in testing the waters than anything else.

“Oh?” is all Pedro gives by way of a reply, not that you mind much since that works just as well as a real answer theoretically could. “Oh," you confirm. This could go either way, but as of right now, you're willing to take the risk.

His gaze is fixed on you, and you go back to lying on the bed, closing your eyes as if you're bracing for the impact of the unknown. “I was wondering if—and I might be making a complete fool of myself by saying this—but what if...” you trail off. "What if we..?” you can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, suddenly realizing that once you say it, you can't take it back.

“Fucked?” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open, surprised by his bluntness. You sit up on the bed, heart racing as you try to gather the courage to speak. “I mean, we-we know each other, and we're both horny, and we wouldn't have to sign any NDAs,” you joke, trying to lift the weight off the air.

"That's true," Pedro quips quickly, though any hint of eagerness in his reply is tempered by the softness of his voice. You feel the blush that rises in your cheeks at the implication in his words and you look away, seemingly breaking the trance you’ve been in. “Okay.”

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“Would you rather have me say no?” he chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans one shoulder into the doorframe and deciding that for now he’ll stay where he is, knowing he looks like a smug jerk but unable to help himself.

“No!” you tell him, rather eagerly. “I mean, of course you can say no. We don't have to do this if you're not into it,” you add softly.

He says your name and looks into your eyes, "My answer's yes.”

“Okay, but I have some rules,” you get off the bed, body tensed with anticipation. “Of course you do,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrow and giving you a knowing smile.

“No feelings. This can only happen while we're here. Once we go back to our normal lives, this never happened,” you tell him. He nods, taking a slow step forward and then another, and although there’s still a great deal of space between the two of you, you can feel the tension building. "Also, we can't tell anybody about this, not even our closest friends,” you continue.

He's closer now, feeling his breath on your face, and his hands find their way to your waist. "It's our little secret," he whispers, and you grab his shoulders to steady yourself.

“And no nicknames. No princesa, no baby, no love,” you try to sound stern but your voice betrays the excitement you feel.

He grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But there's no fun in that.”

“Fine. You can call me whatever you want,” you give in, finding his amusement endearing.

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles, his grin widening. “Are you done with your rules?”

“Yes, I guess so,” you stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so easily swayed by his charm.

“Good,” he says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “So I can start doing this,” he whispers, his hand sliding down your pajama shorts, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. "And this," he adds, as his lips press against your neck.

When you finally make yourself let go and stop fighting for some false sense of restraint for even one second longer, you notice that something changes in the way Pedro touches you, as if he's more confident and sure of himself.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your head to hold you in place. You do the same, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders for support. The tip of his finger under your shorts traces over where you’re slick and too ready for him. His mouth is tantalizingly close to yours, brown eyes staring into yours, pining and desperately waiting. “Can I?” he asks.

It's humorous and sweet even that he's asking permission to kiss you when one of his hands is already under your pants. Every rational thought disappears, and you crush your mouth against his.

Everything is slow and heavy, and he never lets his finger slide into you even when you silently beg for it. Just dragging it over and back—too little and too much all at the same time.

He presses the pad of his finger into your clit, and you have to break away from his mouth to groan, overwhelmed, knees wobbly. Pedro laughs quietly and nuzzles against your neck so his beard scruffs.

“Mi princesa,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly, “you make such pretty sounds."

There is a real chance you could spontaneously combust into flames just from the sound of his voice and his sweet nothings. He continues to draw circles on your clit making you moan and writhe in pleasure, feeling like you're about to explode with ecstasy. As he whispers more sweet words in your ear, you can't help but surrender to the intense sensations he's giving you.

“Is that good?” he asks, his voice rough, “Does that feel good?”

“Yes," you whisper, a hand traveling to his hair, tugging it tightly. “Yes.”

Just when you're about to come undone, he suddenly stops. Your eyes quickly find his for some explanations as to why he decided to put on hold the very satisfying and impending orgasm that was building up within you. “Oops,” he simply states, a grin plastered on his face.

“I fucking hate you,” you whine, pulling away from him. “I was so close! What you do that for?”

"I have some rules, too."

“Now?” you ask him, clearly frustrated with his antics. “Well, go on.”

“Actually, it's just one,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrows and giving you a knowing smile. His reaction is met by narrowed eyes, like you’re making sure to watch him closely until you figure out where exactly he’s going with this. "You do as I say. Which also means you come when I say."

“Sounds—” you're regaining your footing, regaining control over yourself, trying to reinstate some power, but the way he just said those words has taken away any sense of authority you thought you had. His voice is commanding, with no room for compromise or disobedience. “Sounds dangerous, but... alright.”

“Good girl, now get on the bed,” he says, and the timbre of his voice nearly kills you then and there, the dropping pitch making the words come out rough and serious. Pedro still sounds like himself, since his normal voice is more than enough to make you a little weak at the knees on a regular day, this new variant is a completely different monster.

You lay there, waiting for his next instruction, as the shadows danced on the walls and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence. Once he reaches the bed and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of your thighs, bending down until he’s face to face with you, your eyes level with his. You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his torso, feeling his tense muscles relax under your touch.

“I need you now, P,” you mumble, and you move your hand lower to hold him through his boxers. He twitches into you.

“What did I say?” his dark eyes are fixed on you as he reaches for your hand and pins it above your head. "I don't think you fully understand the consequences of disobeying me. We'll do this my way," he whispers menacingly.

This dark side of Pedro is one you've never seen before. The Pedro you know is a sunshine. However, the man on top of you right now is a completely different person, and you're more than the ready to get to know him.

“Keep your hands above your head. No touching."

Your body is aching for him, all willing and open, but he’s sliding down you, pushing your shorts down as he goes. His soft hands trace your thighs and stops at your knees, “Open up for me.”

"So pretty," he says, voice thick. You look down to see his face, pupils blown wide. “Can't wait to taste you, baby.”

You're a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. You don't even need to be looking at his face to know how arrogant he is right now, not that you could—it's buried deep inside between your thighs. You're desperate to grab his hair just to see where misbehaving will take you, but you settle for the headboard.

He kisses your cunt, messy and hot. A groan rumbles in his throat and he moves his tongue in circles, exploring every inch of your wetness. You arch your back, lost in pleasure, as he continues to devour you with his mouth. When you look down again, his brown eyes are staring back at you as his fingers slide into you, finding the right spot in milliseconds. It's fucking game over.

His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue and his goddamn nose. “Pedro...” you whimper, out of breath. “P-Please let me cum."

“Not yet, baby," he chuckles, fingers continue to expertly tease and stroke your sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "I know you can hold it for a little longer,” you cry out, gripping the bedsheets as you desperately try to move your hips to ride his fingers. Your eyes are watering slightly from how good he’s making you feel.

“You can cum now.”

Every part of your body spasms, and you scream, everything buzzing and vibrating as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and electricity flooding your body. Removing his fingers, he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up to your belly and lips. As you try to catch your breath, he whispers in your ear, "That was just the beginning. I want to make you cum again and again."

You can tell Pedro loves the way your face heats up at his words. “Please do,” you tell him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and your wandering hands are met by bare, warm skin and the short, neatly cropped hair that grows thicker the further down your fingers dare to venture.

“I know you said you're in charge, but I really need you to take this off,” you say, losing your ability to wait for orders. To your surprise, he complies and gets off the bed, slides down his boxers, just as you get rid of your t-shirt. You can't help but admire the sight of him fully exposed and ready for you, moving to the drawer to pull out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself.

“You can take a picture, it'll last longer."

“Don't get cocky.”

Pedro settles between you once again, and you grab his face. His eyes glistened, his hot breath on your skin as he leans in closer. Your thumb brushes against the tiny white scar on his nose. “You've marked me forever,” he chuckles, as he cradles your head and kisses you, his nose brushing against yours.

You grab his length and give him a slow, steady stroke from base to tip, then back down. His mouth leaves yours as his dick twitches in your firm grasp, causing him to groan involuntarily. The pace of your hand up and down his length never picking up or slowing down, instead maintaining the same teasingly slow pace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.”

Pedro guides himself over you, the head of his cock slipping over where you’re open, up to rub on your clit so your fingers dig into his shoulders. His nose nudges gently against yours, “I'll be gentle, princesa.”

“I don't want you gentle. I want you rough.”

“Is that so?”

You moan, eyes closing. You can't even remember how to breathe, let alone speak. Pedro pushes only his head into you, opening you before pulling out, leaving you contracting around nothing. “I'm going to fuck you roughly, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?”

“Yes, P,” you rasp, hands sliding across his back. He's playing with you and knows how to make it almost unbearably good. He pushes deeper into you this time, and you can feel your body resist, protesting that he's too big, too much, and he pulls out. He drags his cock over where you're slick and messy before thrusting forward as far as he can. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, back arching and pushing your stomach into his. "Oh my God.”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Like you're made for me."

Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, to keep him there, deep inside you. His head drops to your shoulders, pressing his lips to your collarbone. You're close, again.

“Please...” you beg, moaning like you've lost all sanity, his mouth pulls away slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

“More, please, I need more."

The way Pedro's fucking you right now borders on dangerous, making you question lots of things—things you'd rather not think about right now, as he reaches for your hand and places it on your lower stomach. “Feel that?”

You're not sure who moans louder: you when you realize why he's put your hand here, or Pedro when your walls clench involuntarily around his cock at the sensation. Your entire body tightens as you cry out, coming undone once again.

He presses his lips against your forehead and rolls you over, his cock still buried inside you.

“Pedro…that was…” you pant, body on top of his. “Did you come?”

He smirks. “Not yet, because you're gonna ride me now.”

Despite the fact that your body is weak and spent, the simple thought of being on top of him is enough fuel to make you feel a surge of energy. You straddle his hips, feeling his hardness against you, and sinking down on his dick.

“Like this?” you ask as you begin to move your body in sync with his, Your hips swirl and grind down, and Pedro's face is filled with pleasure. “Yes, mi amor. Just like that.”

Every rock of your hips and the way Pedro's pushing into you are the perfect rhythm. His hands grip your hips so tight, you're pretty sure it'll leave bruises for days. You lean down, his mouth close by your ear, as he fucks into you, hearing him whisper things only you get to hear. “you feel so good, baby, taking my cock so fucking well.”

Everything is so overwhelming—your body responding to his every thrust and word. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, and you never want it to end. Collapsing onto his chest, your fingers reach up to grip his hair. The satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes through the room, and you're suddenly glad there's no one in the house.

Pedro slaps your ass as you're still rocking back against his thrust. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you moaned as your body trembled with pleasure, mouth crashing into his, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back, and you feel him spill into the condom. He curses out your name as he's twitching and spasming inside you.

The post-sex haze settles over you both as you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. After a couple of minutes, Pedro finally slips out of you and heads to the bathroom. You manage to get up, body aching. As you gather your clothes from the floor and dress up, he emerges from the bathroom, his face puzzled.

“What are you doing?”

You chuckle, “Leaving.”

Of course you didn't want to leave, but since you agreed this was just sex and nothing more, staying sounds like a dangerous situation.

There's no need to make this situation more complicated than it already is, even if you gaslight yourself into thinking this is fine as long as you're both on the same page.

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.”

“Pedro, we said—"

“I know what we said, but stay. Just for tonight.”

You give him a warning look, and he gives you the same look back. “It'll make me feel dirty if you leave." you burst out laughing, and his face turns red. How's this the same man that just minutes ago was whispering the filthiest things into your ear?

“Okay, I'll stay.”

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no signs of Pedro. If you weren't lying on his bed, legs hurting like you ran a marathon, and your body wrapped in his warm blankets, you would have thought it was all a dream. Because in your dreams is the only place you are together, it's where you come home to him and he comes home to you.

You could still feel his hands moving over your skin, his breath on your neck, and the way he whispered in your ear, making you feel like the most loved person in the world.

Except it wasn't lovemaking; it was just sex.

The warmth of the hot chilean sun spilled through the bedroom window, casting a golden glow on the walls and illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air. The distant sound of soft music and laughter from downstairs made you smile as you sat up against the headboard.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Pedro wearing the coziest looking sweater, his dark hair all over the place, and presumably a cup of coffee in his hand. “Good morning, solecito,” he says sitting down next to you. "I made you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it."

You take the cup from his hand, fingers touching. “It can't possibly still be morning,” you rasp, voice still hoarse.

“No, it's not," he tells you. “It's 2:30pm.”

The fear in your face is palpable. “Fuck, did I miss the gift exchange?” you blurt out.

Pedro's pursed lips and guilty expression made it clear that you, in fact, missed the happiest time of the day. “No...” you dragged out, “Why didn't you wake me up?!” you demanded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep, you looked so peaceful," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But if it makes you feel better, everyone loved what you got them."

You groan in response. “I hate you so much.”

“Are you always this mean when you wake up?"

You shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “Eh, only when I have to deal with people who make me miss the fun part of Christmas."

“Let's talk about how my dad got the better gift, by the way,” he tells you, moving his hands energetically. “And how I'm definitely not jealous at all.”

“I had to impress him, and you can never go wrong with a Rolex,” you remark with a grin. “Plus, you deserve it after doing the most evil thing you could do to me.”

“You mean caring for your wellbeing and letting you rest after the very... eventful night you had?” he says teasingly. “Shut up,” you reply, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. In true Pedro fashion, he dramatically dodges the pillow and grins slyly, "You can't silence me that easily."

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire.

Pedro raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “Is that so?”

You hum. The tension is palpable in the air as you look into his eyes, trying to read his face. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart.

“Wanna see what I got you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled, his eyes still on you.

“Dying to,” you say, pretending not to notice how he changed the subject, setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, “but first I need to shower before I go downstairs.”

“No need,” he reaches for his front pocket, pulling out a small wrapped package. You eagerly take it from him, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Espero que te guste.”

Tearing the paper off and opening the black box, you find a beautiful necklace with a delicate gold chain and a small emerald pendant. “Now I feel like an asshole,” you say, immediately regretting getting him a bunch of funny socks. Your eyes are still fixed on the necklace.

Pedro laughs, your favorite sound in the world, “Hey, I love my socks. You didn't have to get me so many though,”

“I didn't know which ones you'd like better, so I got you a bunch of ‘em,” you say, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “This is so beautiful,"

“It's your favorite gemstone," he says softly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything is okay.

You rush forward to embrace him, catching him off guard by the way he chuckles and says oh. He wraps his arms tightly around you, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater and the familiar scent of his cologne. “Thanks so much, P,” you say, voice drowning on his skin.

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

No strings attached, spontaneous, fun, and only while you're here. That's what you and Pedro agreed upon when you decided to have sex five nights ago. But the way he has you pinned against the shower wall and making your legs tremble with pleasure right now has you thinking of a way to make him not want to do this with anyone else.

The slick, wet sounds of Pedro's fingers pumping in and out of you filled the bathroom as you moaned in bliss. “Can you be a good girl for me and be quiet?” his nose brushes against yours, “We don't want them to hear us, do we?”

You shake your head, blown away, feeling suffocated, as he drags two fingers over your swollen clit. Your jaw sags as the pleasure floods your body as he applies more pressure to it, causing you to grumble in pleasure. As two fingers slide into you, deliciously stretching you, he covers your mouth with his, absorbing your satisfied moan.

He pulled his mouth away from yours, and the water slipped through his hair, dampening it and sticking it back on his forehead. "Open your mouth," he says, a glint in his eyes as you look at him, bewildered. He presses two fingers against your tongue and the sweet-salty taste fills your mouth as you suck on his fingers. “See how fucking good you taste.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need to feel you inside me."

Pedro lets his hand wander around your hips and slowly drags it down, lifting your leg and securing it around his hip. He took the space between your thighs, aligned himself with your entrance, and pushed in, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

He was moving faster, and you felt like a ragdoll in his arms, so euphoric from your high that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you'd gladly accept it.

“F-faster, please,”

You've had sex in a variety of positions over the last few days, but there was something about this position and the access it provided that you found incredibly satisfying. His wet, solid chest pressed against yours, his hand tight against your thigh as he buried himself deep within you.

Pedro let out a low groan, one you were all too familiar with by this point, indicating that he was about to finish. His hips trembled and he let out a final grunt, his breaths ragged and heavy as he came inside of you, mouths meeting in a kiss.

The two of you stood there, still in that proximity for a moment, full of love and softness because above all else, he was your best friend.

“Can I wash your hair?”

“Only if you let me wash yours after,” he replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Deal.”

Since they had a low-key Christmas consisting mainly of hot chocolate, fuzzy sweaters and movies, the family decided to plan a big New Year's Eve celebration to make up for it. Which prompted you to take a quick trip to the city yesterday in search of a dress because you hadn't packed anything fancy.

Pedro insisted that you didn't have to stress over that, to which you obviously objected.

“Sorry, but I'm not taking fashion advice from someone who has like three t-shirts and a pair of jeans,” you said, scrolling through your phone in search of stores. “You wound me, baby,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain. “But if you insist on shopping, let me take you.”

“No, you still have to help Javi with the party,” you said, getting up from the the couch. “I'll drive there, and I'll take Pedro and Bruno with me.”

Pedro looked at you slowly, processing your statement, looking uncertain.

“Google Maps is a thing, and we'll be fine. Now give me your keys.”

“I like it when you're bossy,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of a smile. “They're on the counter."

And thanks to the heavens, you decided to make an effort and find something suitable for the occasion because they went all out.

The bass pounded through the walls as the guests danced and laughed, enjoying the party. The colorful decorations and delicious food made it a night to remember.

“Oh my god, they're gone,” Javiera groans, referring to the tray of now empty lemon bars that were apparently the highlight of the dessert table. “I wanted another one!”

“I made another batch, I hid them in the oven,” you quickly tell her, feeling a little proud of yourself over the fact that people were enjoying what you made. “I'll go get them.”

“I will come with you.”

Once you both reach the empty kitchen, you go straight to the oven, pulling out the tray of lemon bars and setting it on the kitchen island.

“Thank you for taking Pedro and Bruno out yesterday, by the way."

"I had so fun much with them. They're great boys and even better fashion advisers,” you tell her, gesturing to your burgundy dress.

“Glad to know I've taught them well,” she says laughing.

As you cut the bars into perfect squares, Javiera grabs one and takes a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness. "These are amazing, you should consider selling them," she exclaims, closing her eyes in content.

You smile. “In another lifetime, I own a bakery in a small town with a living unit attached to the top. I have a beautiful green kitchen, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to people."

Javiera gives you a warm smile as you grab the powdered sugar. “You know,” she says reluctantly. “I see things and I feel things,” you stop what you're doing to look up at her, confused. “My brother's just scared.”

Confusion is quickly replaced with clarity as you realize where she's going with this. You open your mouth to say something, but she shuts you down. “He's created this wall to protect himself, he's been through a lot, and he has convinced himself that this is enough, that he doesn't need more, but I know better.”

A sigh leaves your lips, all of those feelings bubble up until you can't get a good breath, until you’re drowning. She continues, “I have seen you two together, friends don't look at each other like that."

You know that she's right, but things aren't so simple. Not when it comes to this.

“Maybe in another lifetime," is all you tell her, grabbing the lemon bars and heading out of the kitchen.

•••

The backyard is a wonderland of string lights and bunting, the air is filled with the sound of laughter and music as people dance under the stars. You were lost in conversation with Pedro's father. He shared more stories of his youth, what got him to pursue medicine, and how he met Pedro's late mother, leaving you feeling nostalgic for a time you never knew.

He catches you looking away, follows your gaze straight to Pedro, and smiles knowingly. “I hope you have a good flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a little at your own transparency. “Thank you for everything, really.”

“We hope you come back soon, It was a pleasure to have you,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. He walks off, pausing for a moment to talk to Pedro. Smiles were exchanged, and then he continued his way.

Pedro looks exceptionally good tonight. Hair perfectly styled, white shirt perfectly stretching over his back. You drink up his movements as he approaches you, a smile plastered on his face.

“Who did your hair?” you ask him, knowing damn well this was someone else's doing because he didn't know how to do it. “My sister,” he replied, chuckling.

“She's doing the Lord's work,” you tell him, folding your arms, feeling exposed by the way he's staring. It's comical that you feel this way, as if he hasn't seen you naked for the past week.

“I'm gonna have to hire someone to do my hair at all times if you like it this much.”

“I like it either way,” you admitted, "but I just think it looks extra good when it's styled like this."

His mouth splits into quite possibly your favorite of his various smiles, the one that makes it look like there's a secret tucked up in one corner of his mouth. “Dance with me?”

“Always.”

You take his hand and pull him to the deck, beneath the twinkling lights and away from the crowd, while the Bee Gees' “How Deep Is Your Love” plays like the universe just wants to mock you. Pedro folds your hand up in his warm palm, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes to focus on how this feels.

It feels right, it feels perfect, and it feels like it's gonna end.

He nestles his mouth into your hair and breathes you in as you sway. His sister's words ring in your ear once again: My brother's just afraid.

You allow yourself to imagine this feeling lasting. A world within a world just for you and Pedro, where people just let you both be. Where you belong to each other. And then you invite reality forward to change the story.

You're working all day, taking endless flights to different locations, because you're trapped in a cycle of wanting to do more and never feeling like it's enough. Pedro exhausted from long days of shooting, press, taking endless flights, and getting pulled down by gravity.

Unaswered texts. Missed calls. Grief. Hurt. Distance. Missing each other. Fighting. Falling apart.

And you realize you're afraid too and this can never be.

“Pedro.”

There's a lengthy silence. His voice is a raspy, growly mutter. “I know. But don't say it.”

You don't look at each other. You just need to hold on to each other because if you look, you'll see that this make-believe game is over. You both feel the warmth of each other's embrace and the unspoken words between you. The silence is comforting yet suffocating.

His arms squeezed around you as everyone started to countdown. Cheers filled the air. Fireworks broke out over the sky in a thousand different colors. He tells you happy new year, and you say it back, never letting go.

Even though you never said it to each other, you both knew. The love was there, and it didn't change anything.

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading :) (i know this ending feels like this is it for them HOWEVER i will be making several other parts because i can't stop writing about this lol)

#love is complicated fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fic #my writing

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mgparker · 1 year

Text

keep your eyes on me

joel miller x f!reader

warnings: ANGST, stab wound, mentions of violence and blood, lots of violence actually, protective!joel, reader being moody and angsty, some gore (wound details), inaccurate stuff probably (definitely), inconsistencies for sure

word count: 6.63k UNEDITED

here’s the full version of ‘keep your eyes on me.’ i apologize in advance for the reader’s moody and angsty monologue in the intro and all that follows after. prepare the tissues?

The mission was simple.

A quick in and out, a regular check for supplies in one of the surrounding buildings of the QZ and that was it. Nothing you hadn’t done countless times already, even before Joel entered your life, and it was relatively easy.

The hardest part was sneaking past the supervised borders and even that had been figured out when you started paying one of the guards to turn a blind eye whenever you went out for a run.

It just so happened that this run had to occur in the smack-dab middle of a feud you’d found yourself in simply because you associated yourself with Joel Miller and Tess Servopoulos.

It didn’t help that Joel, in particular, rarely associated himself with anyone at all. Perhaps that’s what made you a prime target in his dispute with his former partner Robert Navarro.

Because Joel went out of his way to join your side more often than either of you cared to admit, it made sense that, in turn, Robert’s fury would extend to you.

That’s how you found yourself a little more jumpy than usual, on edge as you scoured the few abandoned buildings in the far east of Boston that hadn’t been touched by common smugglers… or you.

A crash tore you out of your compulsive thinking and you sprang into action before you could even blink.

The end of your newly sharpened blade found Joel standing on the other side of it, a scorned look on his face mixed with a hint of annoyance.

“You could’ve taken my eye out,” he grumbled with a slight shove as he moved past.

It wasn’t enough for you to lose your footing, but you scowled at him anyway. “Don’t expect me to apologize for your foolishness.”

“Never,” he called back from the next room.

You pocketed the knife and sighed.

Despite your banter, you’d consider Joel a good friend. And even that was an understatement; despite the code of living you’d created and stuck to since life had been uprooted and torn from beneath you nearly two decades ago.

Truth is, since the moment you met him, Joel Miller somehow dug his way into your rigid heart, along with Tess in some ways, but Joel was different. You weren’t sure if it was the hardened exterior that masked a broken person underneath, much like you, or something else, but it didn’t take long for his acquaintance to become friendly and then something more.

Like it or not, the warm feeling you’d get whenever Joel would reveal a new piece of himself, no matter how meticulously small, or when he’d simply exist around you was something you couldn’t ignore.

And nowadays, as the world was quickly becoming even colder and harsher, it was a feeling you found yourself unwilling to let go.

It was near impossible to find something that inspired feelings that didn’t match the gloominess and grayness of the world around you, and now that you had, it was like a drug.

But if his knee-jerk reaction to pulling away from any type of affection or semblance of love is any indication, Joel Miller could not and would not ever feel as deeply for you as you did for him.

And though it left a painful lump in your throat, you’d accepted it long ago.

For now, you’d stick to the passive aggressive flow you two seemed to fall into in each other’s company. It was how you two had first treated each other before you got involved in each other’s lives and it wasn’t going to change now.

You knew for sure, despite all other uncertainties revolving your relationship, consistency is something you both needed in these trying days.

You’d settle for it as long as he stayed in your life.

“Find anything interesting?” You’d been silent for too long. You realized it with an awkward jolt and you set yourself back into motion.

“No,” you called back. “You?”

“The whole place has been swept clean,” Joel sighed as he came back into the room.

“That can’t be right,” you leaned against the wall and stared at your feet in confusion. “The smugglers haven’t gotten this far, I’m sure of it.”

You looked up to find Joel staring down at you with a hint of sympathy. He knew how excited you were about this one—it was a medical building. Tall with a few stories of what you’d assumed had been doctors’ offices and reception areas.

You’d been kind of right. It definitely seemed to have been an office building of some sort, desks still neatly organized in separate cubicles, but everything was pristinely empty.

No medicine, no supplies, no tools. Nothing.

“Goddamnit!” You furiously kicked a nearby desk over.

Joel continued to stare at you with the same brewing frustration. With what you were both expecting to steal and sell off, it would’ve been enough to get the battery Joel needed to get the hell out of dodge.

Despite the trip being for the sole purpose of finding his brother, Joel knew from the moment you started splitting your illegal earnings with him, you had both feet in the door. Getting out of Boston was just as important to you as it was for him. And while it may have started out for personal gain, you started caring about Joel’s mission somewhere along the way.

And despite his best efforts against it, Joel started caring about you. Battery or not, you were here to stay.

You were in his life.

When he focused back into the real world, you were pacing the office space, mumbling to yourself with waving hands.

“Seriously, even yesterday these cabinets had been full—”

“Yesterday?” Joel cut in with furrowed brows. “You were here yesterday?”

“Where do you think I got those prescription lenses?” You’d returned yesterday with a box full of glass lenses, not the cheap shit—actual optometrist lenses, shit that would make you a fortune on the black market once you came back for the rest. When Joel got back from work yesterday to where you, him and Tess had been shacking up (an ‘apartment unit’ that was falling apart), he’d found you sitting on your bed, grinning from ear to ear with a small box full of them.

It'd made you a good amount of ration cards and you made enough to quietly pay a man who claimed he had a functioning battery on the market. Joel didn’t know yet— you weren’t going to tell him until the deal went through and the battery was in your hand.

No point in bringing anyone’s hopes up until it was a sure thing, right?

You brushed past Joel, bristling at the thought of someone taking your fortune.

He followed you towards the door, hot on your heels.

“You went this far out by yourself? Are you crazy?” He realized how pathetic he sounded. How it teetered too close to sounding like he cared more than he should, but he did.

And the mere thought of you putting yourself in serious danger irked him in a raging way.

“Our options were getting limited, Joel,” you whipped around with flames in your eyes. “And it would’ve got us what we needed. If that makes me crazy, so be it.”

Protectiveness wasn’t unusual for Joel. You’d see it when anyone spoke to you in the wrong tone. How he’d snap at whoever for even looking at you the wrong way. You’ve seen it with his insistency in finding his brother.

And you’re seeing it now.

Only this time, it didn’t cause those stubborn butterflies in your gut. It only fueled your ever-growing frustration.

Joel grabbed your arm firmly. “If something had happened to you—"

Slam!

It cut off Joel before he could finish, both of you whipping towards the doorway and looking at the stairs that led to the first floor.

“Spread out,” a gruff voice commanded below you. “They’re in here somewhere.”

“Shit,” you cursed quietly, ripping your arm from Joel’s tight grip, rushing over to hide against the wall next to the open door.

Joel did the same, a loaded pistol in his right hand, aimed across his chest toward his left. He stared at you across the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You fell into immediate silence as Joel brought a finger to his lips, hushing you before you could utter another word.

“This is stupid, man. Everything’s untouched, are you sure they even came through—”

“Shut the fuck up. We follow his rules. We do our job, and we get paid and that’s it.”

Breath hitched in your throat, you stared over at Joel, watching his face contort with every piece of information the two idiots revealed.

“Isn’t he scared of this dude? I mean, if he wants them gone, why not come after them himself? Who knows what this Miller guy is capable of—”

“Get a fuckin’ grip, Santiago,” you nearly jumped out of your skin when his gruff voice sounded much closer. “It’s two of them against all of us. You’re a fuckin’ pussy. Don’t know why Robert chose you in the first place.”

Joel threw his head against the concrete with a roll of his eyes. But his fingers curled over the trigger and you did the same.

“I’m lookin’ out for myself,” their footsteps echoed up the stairwell. “You should do the same.”

Slowly raising your gun, your lips silently counted down.

‘5..’ Joel gave you a curt nod.

‘4’ “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Don’t talk about shit chu don’t know about.”

‘3’ You tried to check your ammo as quietly as possible.

‘2’ Something uncomfortable pricked at Joel’s stomach, staring at you as he imagined fighting side-by-side. It wasn’t his first time, but every single time got harder than the last. And this time, he wasn’t even sure how big the ambush would be.

If something happened to you—

‘1.’

He shook his head a bit more aggressively than he meant, ignoring your questioning gaze, before swinging around the corner with his gun in one hand, blade in the other.

Instantly, the two men went to scream, but you and Joel took care of it quickly. You tried to ignore the pang of guilt in your chest as you fired your muffled weapon directly between one of the men’s eyes.

Beside him, Joel held his partner against his front, hand over his gurgling mouth, blood spilling out the side of his neck.

Your eyes were locked on his until the man in his arms went limp and Joel let him drop emotionlessly.

You ignored the temptation to follow his body with your eyes and instead hardened your gaze toward Joel.

It wasn’t his fault that you still hadn’t grown as desensitized as he had over the years, but your envy was hard to swallow. Even if you were better at hiding it, you knew Joel would’ve eventually noticed. Despite his careless exterior, Joel was a nitpicker, constantly inspecting, constantly searching.

You were just glad that his faith in your abilities hadn’t wavered despite your stubborn empathetic streak.

You refused to appear weak, especially in front of him.

A rush of voices and footsteps pulled both you and Joel out of whatever spiral your minds had thrown you into, a calloused hand wrapping around your arm and dragging you to the center of the room and then pushing you to the right side behind a rather large desk.

Your knees roughly hit the dusty mat in front of the workstation, and you whipped your head around to search for Joel before he could disappear within the room.

A flash of brown hair was the only indication that your partner hadn’t left you high and dry, but you had no time to dwell on it. The door was busted down and a chorus of voices entered.

They must’ve seen Santiago and whatever the other guy’s name was because there was a simultaneous shift in which your mind shut down everything else but the need to survive.

The sight of bullets flying registered before the sound of the shots, blood rushing to your ears and fingertips as you flew up instinctively, pulling your own trigger.

The fight became quickly divided, a few more flocking toward Joel’s side of the floor and you felt the rush of determination more than ever.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins as your mind chanted one thing only.

Fight, survive, protect.

“You bitch!” A blonde came rushing toward you, face screwed in anger as he bared his teeth at you.

He was lifting his gun, looking between you and Santiago’s body from behind your desk. You were quick to respond, lifting your weapon quicker and firing the bullet.

You didn’t even get to see his body hit the ground. A sudden pain in your jaw blinded you, the force of a fist smashing against your face sending you tumbling into the nearest wall.

Black spots dusted your vision and you quickly shook them away. You swung back and kicked against whoever had gotten the jump on you.

His fist was wrapped in your hair, pulling as you fought back tirelessly. You managed to catch a glimpse of your attacker’s eyes before you were finally getting a grip on the pistol strapped to your thigh, firing into his side as he made one final move.

Your skin tore quickly, stretching down your chest agonizingly, and you almost fell to the ground with him.

A harrowing yell escaped you before you could help it. You’re not even sure how you managed to stumble away but you found yourself quickly pressing your hands against the knife that was still lodged in your stomach.

Without hesitation, you ripped the weapon out.

It was a hinderance to your survival, to Joel’s survival, and you couldn’t afford to wait on the sidelines. But then a wave of agony made you fall to your knees.

You could hear your name being called over and over again, but then the blood was suddenly rushing into your head, your skull pounding behind your eyes.

Did you answer? Did you call Joel’s name like he did yours? God, the pain was blinding. Your hands shook violently as you tried to rip a piece of your jacket.

The fabric slipped between your fingers like water and you pulled away in frantic confusion.

Red. It was all over the place. It stained your fingers, your shirt— it wouldn’t stop.

Why won’t it stop?

A disgruntled breath escaped you, just as you rubbed your hands against your shirt again, and both things hit you like a freight train.

The pain, blossoming from the sharp intake of air and the contact against your ever present wound, was enough to send you tumbling in realization.

You’d ripped the knife out of your stomach. It wasn’t just a scratch. Your fight-or-flight mode seemed to override the severity of what had just happened.

“Shit,” you whispered, putting pressure against the wound despite every part of you wanting to pull away.

A distance away, Joel yelled your name again. It was desperate, enough to cut through your gaze of panic. As calm as you could manage, you threw him a glance over your shoulder.

He was cornered again, three men surrounding him with knives and pistols. They were putting up a decent fight but it didn’t worry you. You’d seen your partner fight against greater odds and win without breaking a sweat.

As long as he stayed focused.

“I’m fine,” you called back to him, staring down at your blood-soaked hand. “Just got the wind knocked out of me is all.”

You hated lying.

The numbers behind you were slowly dwindling down...

Until suddenly they weren’t.

A chorus of shouts emerged from the hallway to your right and a sudden rush of adrenaline numbed your pain.

You felt a flood of relief.

Joel couldn’t handle this alone. After everything you two had been through together, a stab wound was not going to take you out.

Not without a good fight before.

The grunts behind you finally died down and Joel was quick to join your side, pulling his handgun from the holster on his belt.

The action quickly started again, men flooding into the room with pointed guns.

Your finger pulled the trigger on instinct, taking down the closest man before he could make a move towards you.

It was a series of bangs and flashes after that. Purely running off adrenaline and instinct, ducking behind whatever desks were still in one piece and flying back up with a bullet in tow.

Across the room, Joel was holding his own, clearing the room as quick as you were.

Suddenly, a bullet whizzed past your ear, close enough you could feel the rush of wind speed past you and you spun on your feet, firing before you even laid eyes on your final target.

Luckily, by the time you spotted him, the last man was dropping to the floor with a heavy thud.

Your arm fell slack, loosely gripping your pistol.

It was silent for a few moments as you gazed over at your partner and he seemed just as winded as you.

Joel’s breaths were loud, chest heaving with exhaustion. He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees.

“They must’ve been tipped off,” he said.

The adrenaline was slowly leaving your body.

Weakly, you nodded. You didn’t even stop to think that he had his back turned toward you.

The air was suddenly punched out of your lungs. The pain was back, and it felt like the prick of a hundred needles. You weren’t sure you could hold yourself up much longer.

“Joel…” Your lips could barely form the word. Where did all your strength go in an instant?

He must not have heard you over his increasing anger. Joel was a loud thinker; at least, he was with you.

For anyone else, the man was a damn puzzle that was impossible to solve. It’s what made you feel a pang of guilt, just as your legs gave out, because there was a dreadful feeling in your gut that maybe this wasn’t one that you could come back from. Not this far out from the QZ, and even then. Medical supplies were scarce and expensive, more than both you and Joel could afford even with joint forces, seeing as most of everything you had had gone into this mission.

You hit the ground hard enough to send Joel spinning faster than you’d ever seen him move. His stance was sure, gun back in his hand before you could even see it move toward his belt, ready to take on whoever else had threatened him and you.

Black dots began to fizzle the corners of your vision.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Joel pocketed the weapon and rushed toward you. “Hey, Y/N, look at me.”

You tried. Your eyelids were too heavy.

A noise of panic left the back of his throat. “Open your eyes,” Joel grabbed your face roughly. “Look at me now!”

Startled, your eyes opened wide and a bit of awareness came back to you.

“What happened?” Joel demanded, scanning your body with urgency. His eyes zeroed in on your hands that were pressed against the wound.

Shakily, you pulled away and for a moment, he thought he was trapped in a nightmare. Blood coated your shaking palms.

“One of those fuckers got me good,” you hissed. Joel was mercilessly pressing his hands against your stomach now.

“Ease up, will you?” A flare of annoyance struck you when he pressed harder. “Jesus Christ—"

“I’m a little busy trying to save your life,” Joel gave you a hard glare. There was something in his eyes, a mix of frustration and anger and—and something else.

Joel Miller’s impeccable mask of calmness was cracking, panic seeping through the seams.

That confirms it, you thought dreadfully. It really is as bad as I thought.

Things suddenly became blurrier than before. You squinted through the haze. “Sorry, I know. Sorry, it just—it just hurts.”

At that, he finally let up and curled his fingers around the hem of your torn shirt. As quickly as you nodded, Joel pulled the fabric up and instantly regretted it.

Though he tried hard to disguise it, you saw the drop in his expression, the disappointment in his gaze as he studied your stomach with a horrible poker face.

You looked up at the ceiling, a deeper pit in your stomach settling. You weren’t leaving this torn-up building. Not alive at least.

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you angrily blinked them away before Joel could see them.

“It’s not too bad,” Joel said finally.

If you had the strength, you would’ve scoffed. “Don’t lie.”

“Like you did?” He accused.

You dropped your chin to glare at him through half-lidded eyes. “We were surrounded. You were surrounded. I had no choice.”

He was looking down at your torso again and you dared to follow his gaze.

Torn skin, fiery red around the ragged edges of what had been a rather large, hefty blade. It nearly dragged down to your navel, bleeding profusely down into the fabric of your pants, likely ripped open by the rush of adrenaline that allowed you to finish the rest of Robert’s men.

“Don’t ever lie to me again,” he began to tug on your arm, dragging you up from the ground with a grunt. “Never again.”

A whine escaped you before you could stop it, teeth gritting from the blinding pain, and you had half a mind to whack Joel with all the strength you could muster.

“Fuck,” you coughed. “W-warn me next time.”

An apology was at the tip of Joel’s tongue, but he swallowed it down. He wouldn’t start going easy on you now. Not until he was sure you were out of death’s reach, and he could properly scold you for being so stupid.

“Talk to me,” he demanded as he more or less dragged you down the first flight of stairs, struggling to store his gun in the holster of his belt. His hands were shaking too badly and a wave of nausea hit him.

“Why?” You hissed in pain, brain still foggy from the blood loss and irritated from the numbness in your legs. You weren’t making sense of anything.

Joel bit his lip harshly. “So, I can keep you awake. You need to be alert, you hear me?”

You didn’t hear him.

In fact, all you could hear or think or even see was blinding red, an ache so deep in your bones. You weren’t even sure if you were still dragging your feet along.

Your silence had Joel stumbling to a stop, pushing you against the wall and pinching your cheek desperately. Your eyelids were barely open. A string of mumbles left your lips and Joel firmly shook your shoulders.

“It—” you centered yourself again. “It hurts—"

The world spun again, and you were suddenly looking straight up at the underside of his jaw, clenched in worry, eyes straight ahead as he began to hustle down the rest of the stairs with you in his arms.

As he finally made it outside, the lump in his throat got harder to swallow and something began to crack in his chest. An anxiety that he hadn’t felt since he had someone else in his arms like this, since spilled blood coated his arms and shirt.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not ever.

It was eerily quiet, only your protests that went unheard by him breaking the silence of sunset over the city, and his mind tortured him even further.

Plaguing him with memories of when you were alive and well.

Joel knew he was in for a night of trouble when you came through the door that evening with a sly tone in your voice.

“Guess what I found today.”

“Trouble, no doubt,” Joel responded mindlessly, bottom lip pinched between the grip of his calloused fingers, troubled with memories of the past and the horrors of the possible future.

You shrugged with a cunning smile on your face, sauntering to the ‘kitchen’ and out of his peripheral view. “Could be.”

He heard the clatter of your keys, the familiar rustle of you shrugging off your jacket, and he only looked up once you made your way to the edge of the living room.

There was the hint of a smile on your face, as if you were containing an excitement over God knows what. It wasn’t often that he saw that particular look on your face. He secretly decided that he liked it a lot.

His gaze left your face as you pulled something out from behind your back and held it up with pride.

A dark red bottle dwarfed your hand in size, a peeling label wrapped around its front and he squinted his eyes to read the cursive inscription— ‘Tuscan Vineyards Cabernet.’

He looked up at you with wide eyes and you were full on smiling now. You walked over to him, and Joel had to arch his neck to look up at you from his spot on the floor. Gently, you handed it over.

“Can big and bad Joel Miller handle his liquor?”

“This is wine,” Joel scoffed, inspecting the bottle in his large hands. “I’d hardly consider this liquor.”

You watched as a hint of pink flooded the apples of his cheeks, despite his best efforts to ignore your teasing. The corner of your lips curled up.

“I don’t know,” you slipped the bottle out of his grip with a pointed sigh. “It’s been a while since we’ve had the good stuff. Our tolerance is probably not what it used to be.”

“Speak for yourself. I was never the first to tap out of any drinking game. That was Tommy’s job.”

You tried not to let the surprise show on your face.

It was rare that Joel spoke about his past, and with how anxious he was to hear from his little brother, you were surprised he was bringing him up so casually.

Busying yourself by getting up from some glasses, you threw an eyebrow raise over your shoulder. “We’ll see about that.”

Joel rolled his eyes. Even after you turned around, he kept staring at you, entranced by your fluid movements, reaching to set two glasses down and searching for a suitable knife within the stash you had accumulated in the apartment.

There was something so normal about watching you flounce along the kitchen, eager to indulge in a treat you two hadn’t had since before the world ended.

It was almost… domestic.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, Joel cast it away just as quickly, sharply looking away from your figure and glaring down at the carpet with a sudden anger.

Domesticity and anything along the lines ceased to exist for Joel long, long ago. Even if an odd pang in his chest was begging him to look back at you and chase the feeling, he’d ignore it and bury it down deep inside.

He couldn’t afford to entertain such thoughts.

“Ah!” You carefully crossed the living room, two glasses full to the brim in your grip. “Finally.”

Seeing the alcohol had Joel perking up slightly, quickly accepting his cup with a familiar spark in his eye.

“Thanks,” he grumbled slightly, still bewildered by his impulsive thoughts. Silently, he watched as you carefully lowered yourself to the ground beside him, folding your legs under yourself and letting out a sign of relief as your muscles finally took a much-needed break.

You were tempted to clink your glasses against his, and it seemed Joel had the same beat of hesitation too, but you quickly reeled yourself back in.

This world hardly allowed for any wins, and now it was just pitiful to raise your glass in this day and age.

A nod will have to do, Joel decided first, and you gratefully tipped your head back toward him.

The tartness burst along his tongue at the first sip, smooth but shockingly strong, carving its way down his throat slowly.

Beside him, you also drank with a pleased hum.

“Where’d you find this?” Joel asked as soon as he’d gotten his first fill.

“The city,” you avoided his eyes, busying your mouth with wine again.

You were a shit liar when it came to personal affairs.

“I’ll ask again,” Joel corrected with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Who’d you steal this from?”

“Some guy named John Dean, ’twas the name on the liquor license in the bar. You think I could afford this on the market? We’re lucky John had this stashed in the back.”

“I can see why. It’s pretty damn good,” Joel admitted.

“It is, isn’t it? It’s a shame Tess isn’t here to share with us.”

Right. He’d almost forgotten about her impromptu solo trip to ‘visit some friends’ in Detroit.

If he cared more, Joel would’ve pressed for more information, but Tess had never done him, or you, wrong before. It wasn’t his job to worry about her personal life.

Joel hummed in response. The sun was setting, casting you two in darkness and neither of you made an effort to get up and flick on the light switch...

Time must’ve eluded him because your voice cut through the silence that had settled like a knife.

“We’ll find him, you know?”

Joel hardened his gaze and took another sip. The wall was suddenly very interesting.

“We’re going to find your brother,” you said again, staring over at Joel with a look he couldn’t quite place. Not even after he moved his eyes over to you.

Your eyes were rounded with sincerity, the golden hues of the sun reflecting in your gaze, lips parted with hints of stained red. The glass of wine hung between your fingers loosely, half-full but still briming with unspoken truths.

It was that look in your eyes that cracked his rugged exterior, meticulously built from years of grief and horror.

He wanted to say something, anything, but he was coming up blank. Ensnared by the absolute beauty you exuded in this very moment.

He’s been looking at you for much longer than you’d consider normal, there’s no point in pushing anything away now. Might as well go the full nine yards.

And just as he was taking that leap, bringing his face closer to yours, his own hands flashed in his vision.

Covered in a red deeper than the stain on your lips, dripping and dripping...

Joel pulled back with a jolt, unnoticing to the small sigh that left your mouth, and tried to blink away the blood on his shaking hands.

He swallowed down the bile that threatened to burn the roof of his mouth with a sip of wine.

Death followed him around every corner. His failure to protect what was his would always haunt him.

He couldn’t allow it to happen again.

Your breaths evened out after a moment, and he listened to them with closed eyes.

An apology was at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t let you be another casualty.

You had to stay alive. Joel would keep you alive...

You’d said something before he managed to fuck things up.

Joel racked his brain for the memory. It seemed like it’d been so long ago.

‘We’re going to find your brother.’ That’s what you’d said...

Joel would keep you alive, even if every nerve in his body ached to connect with yours. He wanted to explain it to you, but you’d made him a promise. He’s making one to you too. He’s going to keep you alive...

‘We’re going to find your brother,’ you’d said.

Apologize. Explain. His brain was screaming at him-- no.

Respond.

“Okay,” is what he settled for instead.

You were still alive.

You were still alive and that’s the only thing that mattered. He had to keep it that way.

“Stop,” you begged breathlessly. It was like he hadn’t even heard you, pushing on even as the sun began to set in the west.

How long had it been?

There was a buzzing in your head; it was numbing, as if you’d been injected with some sort of laughing gas. It was a little bizarre and it was enough to add some bass in your tone.

“Joel, please. Stop.”

It was your grip that made Joel finally look down. Your hand, quivering and weak, had come to wrap around his bicep, nails digging in with urgency.

He staggered as he looked into your dim eyes, half-lidded and bloodshot red.

“Put me down,” you whispered. “Please.”

You were slipping away; he could feel it.

It was happening all over again, and he was helpless to stop it.

“No,” he said firmly, but his body was still going through the motions. He was still falling on his knees, a shock spreading to his spine, but he didn’t feel the pain.

All he could feel was you.

Your staggering breaths, the twitching of your hands, he guessed some sort of state of shock from the blood loss… It was probably a miracle that you hadn’t passed out from it all yet.

Gravel dug into his jeans, but he paid it no mind, frantically searching your eyes for something. Anything—any sort of solution because he couldn’t go through this again.

Desperately, he pulled up your shirt to look at your wound. The blood wasn’t clotting, it was going faster than your body could respond.

Maybe he could find something to stitch you up with, try to work through all the blood, but the small logical part of him knew that searching through any of these buildings would be like finding a needle in a haystack. And he didn’t trust that you’d keep yourself awake while he was gone…

With a jolt, Joel realized he was no longer hearing anything at all. Your breaths had gone eerily quiet, your hands devastatingly still…

“Hey!” Joel looked toward your face frantically.

His shout jolted you awake, reaching toward the last bits of consciousness your brain could muster.

It was as if a thousand-pound weight had been tied to your ankle and you’d been thrown in the ocean. Desperately reaching for the surface as you sank further and further. Like your oxygen was running out...

“Hey, stay with me, you’re not allowed to rest. Not yet.”

You’re barely able to pinpoint where the voice is coming from until he’s shaking your shoulders roughly.

Your eyes focused back on Joel, a heaviness in your chest.

“Joel?” It takes an extreme amount of effort to form his name on your lips, but you know it’s worth the pain. The dull headache it forms to not give into the peaceful silence that sleep was promising you. It was luring you in, but love made in a little bit easier to keep yourself rooted to the land of the living.

“I’m here. I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not—”

He’s caught by surprise when a sob lodged itself in his throat. He did his best to swallow it down.

It felt like something was ripping at his own chest, breaking through the grief he’d buried down decades ago. And his grip on your body got tighter.

Joel pulled you in to his body like he’d done years ago.

He loved you. God, he loved you. It was threatening to swallow him whole, the flood of emotions as he stared down at your pale cheeks and dim eyes.

He’d denied himself the opportunity to love you, truly love you, because of his stubborn belief that he knew what was best for you.

He knew that if he allowed himself to indulge, he’d set you both up for disaster. Because that’s just how the universe worked for him.

But now, as he sat doused in your blood, Joel Miller felt a deeper heartbreak than anything he could’ve ever imagined the universe had in store for him.

He didn’t think he’d ever feel this way after Sarah.

He was a fool.

“Joel—” you breathed with a hint of a smile.

“Why? Why did you lie—you should’ve told me before—”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” you coughed, the taste of iron on your tongue. “I wasn’t going to let them get the jump on us. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you—”

You’re kidding. Even as you look death in the face, you’re talking about his safety before your own.

It cracked his heart further.

His lips quivered and you were so close that you could feel the small puffs of breath that escaped them. “We gotta get back to the QZ, the sun’s going down. We gotta get you stitched up—“

Even though his knees screamed against it, he was already hauling you two back up before your shrill scream sent him right back down in panic.

One look at your pained expression and he was reminded that he couldn’t afford to spare you the luxury of rest.

“I know, I know it hurts, I know,” he repeated because he was stuck in the same nightmare. “I’m sorry, I know.”

“No,” you begged. “We won’t make it. Please, please, Joel. Stop.”

He only managed a few staggering steps before he was collapsing again, shrinking into himself in anguish.

It seemed like a century had passed as he sat on the gravel, cradling your frail body.

Joel didn’t even feel the tears running down his face until your fragile hand touched his cheek.

“I—I should’ve said it before, but I didn’t want to ruin what we had,” it was getting harder to breathe, but you knew this was what you wanted to use your last breaths for.

“I love you, Joel Miller... And –”

Joel’s eyes flew open in shock, staring into yours in disbelief.

He was unlovable, he’d made sure of that, but here you were. Looking at him with the most sincerity he’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes, glistening with unshed tears of what could’ve been.

“And I’m sorry I’m telling you this now. But you—you had to know. Tell Tess I’m sorry and that she better find what she’s looking for in—in Detroit.”

“Y/N…” His hands cradled your face, just as you ran your fingertips over his quivering lips.

“You’ll be okay, Joel,” you smiled weakly. “You’re going to find Tommy and you’re going to be okay.”

“Please.”

You seemed to ignore his plea, choosing to look over at the orange sunset with that same easy smile on your lips.

And when it slowly began to drop, when your eyes started to glaze over, Joel leaned over to press his lips against the corner of yours, feeling the air leave your parted mouth. And his lips found your forehead, pressing firmly with the whispers of a thousand apologies against your skin.

And there he sobbed, cradled your head into his neck, facing away from the sunset your eyes lastly rested on, the world falling apart at his knees.

Joel Miller loved you too. You left this world without knowing it.

He loved you too.

uh… this will be edited 1000% when i’m completely sober <3 tipsy elle clocking out!

— elle <3

taglist:

@rendiore @words-are-cheap @justhereforthosefics @angelmenace @lady-bellyn @encephalitiskat

@sloanexx @rendiore @words-are-cheap @justhereforthosefics @angelmenace @lady-bellyn @encephalitiskat

#mgparker #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x y/n #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel tlou #TLOU #the last of us #the last of us imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller angst #angst #pedro pascal angst

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