Could you do meeting stepdad! Pedro for the first time? Please and thank you!😭💗
To Build a Home (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Reader)
Pedro Pascal Masterlist
A/N: I feel like this one was too short but I've been having writers block and this is the best I could do! I hope you enjoy it!! <3
Word Count: 2,880
Summary: Your mother decides it is time for you to meet her boyfriend of six months, you are defensive at first, but you think you could get used to the idea of having this one around more often.
This is fine.
Everything about this situation is okay.
No need to panic. You thought to yourself. Watching your mother frantically cook in the kitchen as if her life depended on it. You have never seen your mother this frantic since the day your grandmother decided to do a surprise visit.
“Mom?” you quietly said, walking around the counter.
“Honey, can you grab me some garlic, it should be next to the bananas… bananas… shit! I forgot to make dessert!” She groaned to herself as she handled the hot pan in front of her.
You sighed, grabbing the garlic and setting it down on the counter beside her, “Mom,” you said a little louder.
“What, honey?” She quickly gave you a glance before taking notice of the garlic you had placed on the counter. She grabbed it, taking it over to the cutting board.
“Can you look at me for a moment?” You asked desperately.
She sighed, putting down everything before turning to give you her full attention. “Si, Cariño?”
“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.” You regretted the words as soon as they had left your mother, seeing the reaction on your mother's face. How her eyes watered and her mouth frowned.
“But, Cariño, you told me you were ready. We had a whole discussion– I don’t understand.”
You sighed, “I know, I–I think I’m nervous ‘s all.”
“Nervous? Sweetie, how do you think we feel?” You shrugged, “Pedro has been messaging me all week about how he wants to cancel because he’s nervous.” She sighed, “Honey, you’re not the only one that is feeling this way.”
“So, we should cancel?”
She shook her head, “It’s time for you to meet Pedro.” You feared that she would say that. It only meant one thing. One thing you truly feared, she was deeply in love with him. That what they had was something serious and it could lead to them becoming more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. It meant that you would now have to share your mother with someone and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.
Especially with how the last time ended. You still had nightmares from when your father was around, images in your head that never left. What if Pedro turned out to be just like your father?
“Okay,” you felt defeated. Your mother was a person who didn’t budge. Once she had made a decision it was final.
“Now you either help me cook or you get out of my kitchen,” she stated, turning her body to face the counter once more to busy herself with the garlic in front of her.
For the longest, it had always been you and your mother. Your father had no visitation rights since you were eight, so for the past five years, you and your mother picked up the pieces and started a new life. A better life.
Your mother focused mainly on work in the filming industry and eventually, she was able to afford a nice house for the two of you. That’s what it was, just the two of you. You never imagined that one day, it could potentially be three of you. That your mother would one day want to find love again.
“Do you love him?” You hesitantly asked.
Your mother stopped everything, letting out a deep sigh, “I’m afraid to answer that question,” she admitted.
You were afraid she would dodge that question, but also you were sad that she had. You had hoped that your mother wouldn’t tip-toe around the subject with you. Maybe she could be honest with you about a topic that wasn’t common in this household.
“Be honest with me,” you reassured. “Do you love him?”
“Love is a strong word,” she whispered.
“And your daughter meeting him is a big step.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I do love him.”
You gave her a small nod, “Then that’s enough for me.”
She gave you a smile before walking around the counter to pull you in for a hug, “Thank you.”
“But this doesn’t mean that I’m not going to give him a hard time, I still don’t trust the man.” You grabbed one of the potatoes that were on the counter, grabbed the peeler, and made your way over to the trash can. “Don’t expect me to call him dad,” you said jokingly, referencing to the movie Stepbrothers.
Your mother giggled, “I don’t expect that at all from you, amor,” she smiled.
The hour quickly passed, and you anxiously sat on the couch, your eyes not peeling away from the clock on the wall. Your foot bounced against the wooden floors, creating a gentle but persistent thud. The sound echoed throughout the room and for a moment you were glad your mother was busy in the kitchen, distracting herself with the neatness of the dining room and kitchen and if she had enough time to whip up something quick for dessert. You could hear her muttering to herself about whether Pedro would enjoy a bar of chocolate for dessert or if that was stupid.
It was any second that Pedro would walk through those doors and your life would change for either the worst or the best. You didn’t know which and you were afraid to find out.
“Sweetie, are you going to wear that?” Your mom asked as she walked into the living room.
You looked down to see what you were wearing, it was what you had worn to school, a plain tee, flannel, and some jeans. It was casual wear for you, “Um, yes?” She raised her eyebrows, “would you like for me to change?”
She sighed, “Would it be fucked up for me to say yes?”
“Kind of, I mean, if he really liked me he wouldn’t care what I wore right? But, on the other hand, I can change to make you feel less anxious.”
Your mother stood there for a second, thinking about what you had just said. Giving you a small nod, “Don’t change,” she stated.
You smiled, knowing you had won, “Alright.”
Your mother's head whipped towards the door at the sound of the doorbell, “Oh my god, that’s him.” She let out a deep breath before looking over at you, “is it too late to cancel?”
“Hey, I tried earlier but you said it was too late.”
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, “What the fuck am I doing? I mean, are we even ready for something like this?”
You sighed, getting up from the couch, “Ama, I think you’ve been ready for a while, you’ve just been scared, but I’m no longer a little girl, Mom. You deserve happiness.”
She gave you a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek, “Cuando creciste?” (When did you grow up)
“Cuando no estabas mirando,” you smiled. (When you weren’t looking)
“Alright, let’s do this,” she whispered. You trailed behind her as she walked towards the door. You stood back, watching as your mother opened the door. She deserved happiness, no matter what. Even at the cost of yours. She deserved it.
After everything she had been through to protect you, it was the least you could give her. You saw the way she had been these past few months, the after-dates smile, and how she grinned from ear to ear the day after. He made her happy and it scared you, but you couldn’t tell your mother that. You couldn’t ruin it because somehow seeing her so happy made you happy, even if you were weary about the man who was causing it.
Your mother's voice was muffled as she greeted Pedro on the other side of the door. Meeting him meant a lot of things, it meant that it was no longer the two of you on adventures, that he would more than likely tag along. It meant that eventually, you would have to get used to your mom always being with him. He could be here for breakfast some days and you know what that meant. He could be here for dinners on other days and it also meant expressing boundaries.
She deserved this happiness.
“Y/N,” your mother called for you as she stepped aside to let Pedro in. There he was, with a nervous smile playing on his lips and a bouquet of flowers in his hands that you knew was for your mother. “I’d like for you to meet my daughter, Pedro.”
He let out a nervous laugh, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, your mother speaks so much about you.” He held out his free hand for you to shake, and you gently shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you too,” you gave him a hesitant smile.
“Oh! I got you these, your mother said you loved sunflowers and well,” he nervously chuckled, “I hope you like ‘em.”
You gave him a surprised look, glancing at your mom who grinned from ear to ear, “For me?” He gave you a nod, “T–thank you, I–I don’t know what to say!” Pedro handed you the bouquet that was beautifully displayed sunflowers with a few purple flowers here and there and baby’s breath surrounding them. “They’re beautiful, thank you, Pedro!”
Pedro grinned from ear to ear, he relaxed a little. He had been nervous all day about handing you the flowers, afraid that you’d reject them. Maybe this dinner wouldn’t be so bad and maybe he could bond with you after all. He knew some things about you from what your mother had said, but it was only some things. He did know the struggles you and your mother had gone through, knowing very well that this transition wasn’t going to be easy for you. Pedro is determined to try his best to get you to trust him because all he wants is to be a positive influence in your life, it was the way he was. His heart broke to hear what you had been through at such a young age and he wished there was something he could do. Something he could do for you and your mother.
“Well, dinner is ready,” your mother states, “let me show you to the dining room.”
“I-I’m gonna put these away,” you say as you walk towards the kitchen. You set the flowers on the counter, staring at them for a second. This was the first time anyone had gotten you flowers. Your first time getting flowers were supposed to be meaningful. A moment you’d remember forever and for a second you were afraid he had just ruined that. For just a second and it was gone, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the bouquet. “Don’t,” you whispered to yourself. The sound of your mother's laughter coming from the other room. This all felt too good, it would all soon come tumbling down and you knew that, but you did not know if you could handle it.
You took in a deep breath before joining your mother and Pedro in the dining room. You sat across from Pedro at the table, “smells good,” you commented as you began piling food on your plate.
“Thanks, mija,” your mom smiled.
“So, Y/N, your mother tells me you are in the drama club at school?” You gave him a nod.
“She’s thinking about starting auditions for actual films soon, right, mija?”
You shrugged, “It’s still a big maybe.”
“For film? I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Maybe Pedro could give you some pointers,” your mother suggested.
You cleared your throat, “So, how many siblings do you have?”
“Y/N,” your mother warned.
Pedro chuckled, “It’s okay, Yesenia.” For a moment you forgot your mother had a first name, you were so used to just calling her mom. “I have three siblings.”
“Pedro, you don’t have to answer her questions, she does thi-”
“How many sisters and how many brothers?” You asked.
“Two sisters, one brother.”
You nod, “Please stop interrogating him,” your mother pleaded.
You gave her a small glare before looking over at Pedro, “Where are you from?”
“Chile,” Pedro smiled. He found this amusing and cute. You were protective over your mother and he loved that you were. “Next question?”
“When did you move here?”
“That’s a long story.”
“I have all night, it’s a weekend.”
“Y/N,” your mother warned.
Pedro chuckled, “It’s okay.” He looked back over at you, “Long story short, my family moved here when I was very little but we had to go back when I was a little older when I was old enough I moved back on my own to pursue acting.” He gave you the cliff notes of his life, leaving out the personal details that were still hard for him to talk about, but enough to keep you satisfied. Your mother gave Pedro a sincere smile and he smiled back. She knew the longer version of the story and she was grateful he was answering your questions to his best ability. “Next question?” he asked.
“Do you want more kids?”
Your mother rolled her eyes, “No,” he chuckled.
“No?”
“Yes, he said no and I don’t want more kids either, Y/N,” your mother stated.
“Why not?” you directed the question towards Pedro.
“Because of my schedule mostly, but I also never saw myself having kids. I’m already almost fifty and I don’t think it’s fair on the kid to have a parent that old, you know?”
“Plus, your mother can’t have any more kids and if she could she wouldn’t because childbirth is no joke.”
You rolled your eyes this time, “Alright, last question.”
“Hit me with it,” Pedro stated.
“What are your intentions with my mother?”
“Y/N!” your mother warned.
Pedro chuckled, “I love your mother and I love spending time with her and right now I would like to get to know you because I know you mean the world to her. I know you both have…” Pedro hesitated, “I don’t intend on hurting your mother in any way. I see myself spending a lot more time with her and hopefully, one day, growing old with her.”
You watched as his eyes never left your mother, the way they idolized her as if she were the only thing that mattered. He really loved her and you could see it in him, but could you trust him? You didn’t know. It was hard to know. You barely had any trust, to begin with.
You remained quiet the rest of the dinner, listening to the two of them laugh as they joked around and told stories about some of their dates or their time together on set. He was an actor, he’d be on the road a lot and your mother knew that yet she was okay with it. She was okay with everything about him.
Your mother got up to answer a phone call, leaving the two of you alone.
You pushed your food around with your fork, “You okay?”
You glanced up at Pedro, his eyes showing concern, how you hated that they did that. “Yeah.”
He sighed, placing his fork down, “You don’t have to like me.”
“You got me flowers,” you whispered.
“Your mother kept mentioning how you loved sunflowers, and it felt like the right thing to do.”
“No one has ever gotten me flowers,” you stated.
Pedro sighed, “I’m sorry if I stepped over the line or–”
“No, you didn’t… just taken back ‘s all.”
He gave you a small nod, “Do you like them?”
“Love them,” you corrected. Giving him a small smile, he smiled back. “I just… I always kind of dreamt that my dad would be the first person to get me flowers, you know?”
He nodded, “I’m sorry, I probably should’ve–”
“It’s okay,” you reassured.
He sighed, “I’m not him, you know.” You stayed quiet. “I know, you don’t trust me because of him, but I am not him and I’m willing to give you all the time you need in order for you to allow me in your life. I love your mother, Y/N and I hope that if you get to know me and I get to know you… we could develop a sort of bond… would that be okay?”
There was a little voice inside your head that was screaming yes, she was shouting it so loud that it gave you a headache. Yet, your mouth never moved, seconds passed and you sat there wondering if it would be okay. The little voice argued with the bigger one. One was more naive than the other and one was more hurt than the other.
Your mother stepped back into the dining room, “I was thinking while on the call, maybe the two of you should hang out together sometime soon? Without me there, get to know each other you know?”
Pedro smiled, “Sounds good to me, what do you think, Y/N?”
You shrugged before giving your mother a nod.
She clapped in excitement, “I’ll plan it out for you guys! It’ll be great!” Would that be okay? His voice trailed inside yours for the remainder of the dinner. You wanted it to be okay, but you couldn’t give him an answer, not just yet anyway.
Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnook @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @Ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog @pcotato @scrappybear89 @dlwrish @what-ever-man213 @boiohboii @drowning-in-paragraphs @stoneredsworld @xmurph7 @sleepylunarwolf @glossy01 @aot-task141-lover @uwiuwi