his voice is the first thing you feel—low, rumbling, warm against your shoulder before you’re even fully awake.
“come back here…” he murmurs, eyes still closed, arms searching blindly until he finds your waist and drags you closer with a small, sleepy groan. he buries his face in your neck like he’s trying to climb into your skin, breath fanning over your collarbone.
“you left,” he complains, voice so deep it vibrates through you.
“pedro, I moved like… two centimeters.”
“too far,” he mumbles, nuzzling even closer.
his curls are a soft mess, falling over his forehead, warm from sleep. you slide your fingers into them without thinking, brushing gently, and he melts instantly—literally melts. his whole body softens, a shiver running down his spine.
“mmh… don’t stop,” he breathes, words heavy with sleep, like honey dripping from his tongue.
you keep playing with his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp, and he lets out this tiny sound—half sigh, half whine—that makes your heart flip.
he tips his head back just enough to look at you, lids heavy, lashes messy, mouth soft. “you’re gonna kill me,” he says, barely audible.
“how?” you whisper, smiling.
“being this… this warm,” he slurs. “this soft with me. I can’t handle it.”
he pulls you fully on top of him, guiding your thigh over his hip, keeping one hand on your lower back, the other sliding up your arm like he needs to feel every inch of you. he presses little, lazy kisses on your jaw, each one slower than the last, like he can barely keep himself awake.
you brush your fingers through his hair again and he moans—quiet, breathy, absolutely helpless.
“that good?” you tease.
his eyes fall shut again, head tipping into your hand. “you have no idea,” he whispers, voice thick and gravelly. “touch me like this forever.”
he’s so needy it’s almost ridiculous—nuzzling your chest, curling his fingers into your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, holding you tighter every time you shift.
“stay,” he begs softly, barely conscious. “just… stay with me a little longer.”
“i’m not going anywhere,” you promise.
he hums—content, small, safe—and pulls the blanket higher around you both before tugging you into his chest like you're the only place he can fall asleep.
“good,” he whispers, almost dreaming. “i sleep better when you’re touching me.”
you kiss his hair. he smiles against your skin.
and then, still half-asleep, he adds, “i love it when you play with my hair… makes me feel yours.”
note — i've been loving 'submarine' by 'the marias' recently which this is heavily inspired by so go give it a listen 🤍 short little fic hope you like !! likes, reblog's and comments are always appreciated 🤍
Liked by user1, imsebastianstan and 2,510,944 others
yourinstagram recently 🤍
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user1 the face card is platinum
user2 no pedro pic or like??
user3 studio picture?? are we back?!?!??
user4 wait why is seb in the likes??
->user5 im wondering the same...
->user6 could be a music vid thing or he's just a fan 🤷♀️
user7 the puppies are so cute
user8 wheres pedro?? 😥
user9 so cute!!
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Liked by user1, user2 and 869,944 others
enews Separation rumors intensify after Y/n L/n was spotted on a flight from Los Angeles to New York after Pedro Pascal was seen arriving in Los Angeles.
The pair who've been dating for 3 years haven't been spotted together for over a month after rumors of L/n wanting to buy a house together, they've been absent from each others social media posts as well as likes.
Do you think they've called it quits?
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user1 this would be catastrophic please no
user2 leaving the state when he got there is crazy
user3 this would be worse than when my real parents got divorced
user4 i always thought the age difference was weird anyone else?
->user5 no. she's a 30+ year old woman, they are gown adults be normal 👍
user6 relationship drama while traveling for a press tour is wild
user7 i hope whatever it is they work it out
user8 i hope not, they talk about each other with so much love 😕
user9 i fear the rumors may be right..
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Liked by user1, imsebastianstan and 6,810,944 others
yourinstagram My EP 'Submarine" out May 23rd, i've been working on this for a few weeks... didn't really plan on making anything but sometimes music just spills out. I hope you all enjoy it 🤍
tracklist for you all 😚 echo, real life, love you anyway, if only, blur, sienna, no one noticed
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user1 YESSSSS THE QUEEN IS BACK
user2 im so excited but so nervous
oliviarodrigo IM SAT! liked by yourinstagram !
user3 the visuals are so good I CANTTT
user4 'love you anyway' is scaring me
billieeilish this is all that matters now liked by yourinstagram !
user5 I CANT WAIT I NEED IT NOW
user6 'sienna' if my intuition is right im gonna cry 💔
user7 THIS COVER 10/10
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Liked by user1, user2 and 1,869,944 others
YnLnNews Y/n goes into depth on the process of writing 'Submarine' and the meaning behind each song in a recent interview with Zane Lowe.
echo, is about knowing that the relationship should end, due to a number of reasons, but it's also hard to let go despite its flaws. And also acknowledging that im being a little dramatic but we both let it get to the point were we're not trying to fight for each other.
real life, talks about a relationship that at a certain point mainly exists in the virtual world, through Facetime, but really yearning for that real-life connection. And the desire to move beyond the superficiality of online interactions and confront the challenges of reality.
love you anyway, is about being in love but not knowing how to verbalized how much i love this person and being so in love that i when they have doubts or are unsure about the relationship i can't tell them how to feel because i love them, i have no doubts about that and that's what's important .
if only, even in dreams im longing for this person, im dreaming of them still there. Im questioning why I even left when I didn't want to, I don't want to let go of this but I know that if we aren't together they'll move on and i'll still dream of them.
blur, is about the feeling of nostalgia and longing for someone from the past. The regret and a desire to reconnect with a person, while also highlighting the internal struggle of wanting to move on but still feeling attached to memories.
sienna, this was written from the standpoint of a broken relationship and of what could have been: We could have had a child together and named her Sienna, and she would have looked like you… Sienna would have acted like you, she would have jumped in the pool just like you, and she would have sang to all her pets like I do… she would have done all these things like us. But because we broke up, Sienna will never exist. And so at the very end where I sing, “See her face in the forest, then it disappears,” it’s like seeing the future you wanted just completely vanish out of nowhere.
no one noticed, is about being torn up and feeling unnoticed and kind of “unravelling” as im left feeling kinda bitter. But deep down despite feeling all these things i still desperately want them back.
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user1 this album is gonna be so painful
user2 they she talked about the song 'sienna' with so much love is heartbreaking 💔
user3 her past relationships have been shitty dudes so i think she left before she could get hurt but she ended getting hurt because she still loves him
->user4 THIS!! she's been through some shit and when they started dating people were so happy and i think that she was waiting for the other shoe to drop and this happened 😕
user5 her being emotional throughout this entire interview made me so sad
user6 sienna is going to RUIN me
user7 she has so much love for this album ☹
user8 excruciating album about to drop. can't wait to sob to this 🔥
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Liked by user1, user2 and 1,869,944 others
enews Pedro Pascal just mentioned his Ex Y/n L/n in an interview in Mexico. When asked 'You obviously don't have to answer this, but have you listened to Y/n L/n's new EP?' he replied very somberly "Yeah, I have it was incredible. Not surprising when Y/n is the one writing and singing."
What do you think?
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user1 i would be surprised if he hadn't listened to it considering it's about him lol..
user2 weird to ask that knowing they broke up but his answer was sweet
user3 all this "split" talk is pr for her album..
->user4 she's going trough it on her album and this it's all just pr...? how dumb do you gotta be
user5 him still complmenting her even though they split
user6 not the point but they are so hot
user7 he listened to it which means there's a chance 🤞
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Liked by pascalispunk, imsebastianstan and 2,510,944 others
yourinstagram thank you snl for having me!! got to perform 'no one noticed' and 'sienna' live for the first time and i couldn't have asked for a better stage to perform on 🤍
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user1 you KILLED it on rewatch
user2 i would like to ask to never get emotional again while performing because i was having a great night and then sienna happened...
user3 so how was the car ride with pedro... 👀
user4 girl sienna was so beautiful im even more in love with that song
user5 pedro in the likes, girl who's going to be okay
user6 need you hear the live versions of every song now please 🙏
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Liked by pascalispunk, imsebastianstan and 2,510,944 others
yourinstagram love you always 🤍
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user1 the only post that matters
user2 face card crazy but the pedro pic my heart 😭
imsebastianstan happy for you 2
->user3 lol he's just a fan
->user4 not him rooting for them 🤭
user5 im so normal about this i promise
user6 'love you anyway' to 'love you always' y'all hear me crying
user7 PARENTS GOT BACK TOGETHER!!
user8 this is so important to me 😭💔
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✎…… half asleep posting this so if there are any mistakes lets ignore them...
but i love these two!! hopefully we get a picture of them together this award season 🤞
Soo.. What abt Joel Miller x Reader. Where not only Joel gets beaten up by Abby but also reader,
But then Reader looks dead but isn't and Joel will live yk but they take Joel back to jackson and not reader bc they think shes dead but then someone (Tommy?) Is there to collect her body but then realises she's still alive and she's conscouis but wasnt able to move AND STILL LAYS IN THE EXACT SPOT and shes feels like she wasnt important or smt and she gets like really sad or something :)
Thank you<3
What’s Left of Us
Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
Content warnings: established relationship, angst, mentions of blood and death, guilt, joel survives - but at what cost, trauma, needles, no fluff
Word Count: 2k
A/N: Thank you for the request. Okay, so this is my take on a fix-it fic? I'm not sure; I honestly don't know how I feel about this one.
Distant shouts bled through the fog, clinging to your mind. Gunshots cracked like thunder in the distance, sharp and disorienting, each one tugging at the frayed edges of your consciousness. You couldn’t move — your limbs were heavy, your body a leaden weight pressed against the cold, blood-slick floor.
Somewhere beyond the ringing in your ears, a voice cut through the chaos.
"Joel!"
Ellie. You knew that voice, raw and desperate, but it sounded like it was calling from underwater, from another world entirely.
You tried to turn your head to find him, but darkness clung to the corners of your vision. You caught a glimpse of him slumped against the floor, blood painting his face, chest rising in shallow, labored breaths.
Another voice. Deeper, steadier, though laced with alarm.
"We got 'em—fuck, we got 'em. Joel! Hey, stay with me, brother!"
Bootsteps pounded against broken glass. The air smelled of rust and old wood, the metallic tang of blood thick in your throat. You wanted to call out, to tell them you were still here, but your lips wouldn’t part. The words snagged in your throat, trapped behind a wall of pain and exhaustion.
The last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was Joel’s bloodied hand twitching toward you, and Ellie dropping to her knees beside him.
Cold. It bit into your skin, gnawed at your bones. Something rough scraped against your back — the sensation of being dragged. Every jolt sent a new ripple of pain through your body, but your limbs refused to answer, dead weight tethered to a body you could no longer command.
Your breath hitched, shallow and ragged. The fabric beneath your fingertips was damp, clinging to your skin like a second, suffocating layer. You tried to move, to claw at whatever held you, but your hands wouldn’t close. Wouldn’t lift.
Your mind spiraled, grasping at half-formed thoughts.
Joel.
A flash of him, crumpled on the floor, blood slicking the wood beneath him like spilled oil. His face a ruin, his chest barely rising. The memory seared itself into you, a cruel brand you couldn’t blink away.
A broken sound escaped your throat, more breath than voice.
Then… nothing.
The world tilted. Darkness gathered at the edges of your vision, thick and suffocating. It dragged you under before you could anchor yourself to anything real, before you could call out. Another memory tried to surface, but it slipped through your fingers like smoke.
You woke with a scream — a raw, broken sound that clawed its way up your throat, shredding your voice as it came out. The air around you was cold, thick with the scent of blood, antiseptic, and something sour. Your hands shot out, clawing at rough fabric draped over your face. It felt like a burial shroud.
“Whoa, hey—hey!”
A rough voice cracking with panic called.
Strong hands pressed you back down against something cold and unyielding — a wooden table. The chill of it seeped through your skin, anchoring you in place as your mind scrambled to make sense of anything.
Your eyes snapped open, vision swimming in the dim, flickering light. Shapes blurred into focus: motionless figures covered in bloodstained sheets, the still air heavy with death.
Tommy’s face hovered above yours, washed out and streaked with grime, sweat clinging to his brow. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, the kind of grief you’d only seen in men who’d already lost too much.
“Christ… it’s alright,” he breathed, more to himself than you. “You’re okay… fuck, you’re okay.”
You tried to sit up, but the pain hit you like a wave, and his hands guided you back down.
“What—” your voice came out as a rasp, splintered and weak.
Tommy fumbled for a glass of water, his hands shaking as he brought it to your lips. You sipped, the lukewarm liquid stinging your parched throat. It tasted like copper and dust.
“I’m so sorry,” Tommy said, voice thick, words stumbling out in a rush. “I— we thought you were gone. You weren’t breathing… Ellie and I— we were so focused on Joel, we… we didn’t even…” His voice cracked, trailing off, guilt warping every syllable.
Joel.
His name was a phantom in your mind, a tether to the last memory you had — his broken body crumpled on the floor, blood pooling like ink.
You shoved the water away, fingers trembling. “Is he—”
Something inside you splintered then, sharp and aching. You looked past him, to the other still forms in the room, covered in white, and a bitter truth settled in your chest.
You were meant to be one of them, and no one noticed you weren’t.
“I’m sorry—” Tommy started, his voice rough and frayed at the edges.
You shook your head before he could finish, a sharp, desperate motion that sent a spike of pain through your skull. Tears stung your eyes, blurring the world around you.
“No, it’s fine,” you croaked, the words scraping out of your throat like broken glass. It wasn’t fine. It was a lie, brittle and cruel, and it hung there between you like a jagged thing neither of you could touch.
Tommy flinched, like he could hear everything you weren’t saying.
“I wanna see him,” you whispered, the words trembling as they left you. Not a request. A plea. A tether to something still breathing in a world that felt otherwise dead.
Tommy’s jaw clenched, his gaze dropping for a heartbeat before he forced himself to meet your eyes. “You need to be checked out first,” he said, though it sounded more like a habit than a conviction, the words empty, already fraying at the seams.
“I don’t care,” you rasped, fresh tears sliding down your dirt-smeared cheeks. “I need to see him. Now.”
He hesitated, and in that pause, the silence screamed. The weight of what had almost been. Of how easily you’d been left behind, mistaken for one of the dead. It pressed in on your chest.
Tommy scrubbed a hand down his face, his fingers leaving streaks in the grime. “Alright,” he muttered, voice cracking. “Alright, let’s get you to him.”
You never made it to Joel.
Somewhere between the hallway and the infirmary, the world slipped away again. The last thing you remembered was the feel of Tommy’s arms around you, his voice a distant, desperate murmur you couldn’t hold onto. The darkness came easily that time.
When you woke, the room was empty. No voices, no hands reaching for you. Just the steady, artificial hum of a light overhead and the soft, infuriating beep of a monitor keeping count of a heart you weren’t sure should’ve kept beating.
Hours had passed. You could tell by the way the light outside the narrow window had shifted, from gray to the muted gold of late afternoon. An IV line tugged at the crook of your elbow, a plastic tether to a life you hadn’t asked for.
You lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the room pressing in on you. The sheets were stiff, the pillow thin and unforgiving beneath your head. Everything smelled like bleach and dried blood.
Almost dead.
The thought circled in your mind, relentless. It wasn’t even a whisper — it was a fact. A cold, brutal truth that settled somewhere deep in your chest. You’d been so close they’d laid you among the dead and left you there.
Forgotten.
A knot tightened in your throat, but no tears came this time. There was a strange numbness spreading through you, heavier than the ache in your battered limbs. You should’ve felt angry. Should’ve wanted to scream, to tear out the IV and demand answers.
But all you could do was lie there and wonder if anyone had even noticed when they’d pulled you from that room. If it hadn’t been for Tommy, would anyone have known you weren’t gone?
Would Joel have known?
Your fingers twitched against the blanket, the only part of you willing to move. The memory of Joel’s bloodied hand reaching for you flickered in your mind, cruel and sharp.
You closed your eyes, and the thought came again.
Almost dead.
The silence was thick, heavy enough to smother, when the door creaked open.
Ellie stepped inside, her figure framed by the dim light spilling in from the hallway. She looked rough. A swollen bruise darkened the skin beneath her eye, dried blood crusted along a few shallow cuts on her arm.
But she was walking, talking…alive.
Unlike you, still tethered to machines, a needle in your arm, skin waxy against the white sheets.
“Hey,” she said, voice low, almost unsure. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, on the IV stand, on the window — anywhere but you.
You swallowed hard, throat raw and dry. “Hey.”
It came out awkward, thin, the word brittle between your teeth. Your body ached in places you couldn’t name, every inch of you heavy and unfamiliar, like you didn’t quite belong to it anymore. You didn’t want to know what you looked like, but judging by the flicker of guilt in Ellie’s eyes, it wasn’t good.
She edged closer, stopping at the foot of the bed, hands shoved deep into the pockets of a jacket too big for her.
“Look—” she started, her voice breaking around the word like it physically hurt to get it out.
You didn’t say anything. The air between you was thick with everything neither of you wanted to touch — fear, guilt, anger, the ache of what almost was.
Ellie scrubbed a hand down her face, wincing when her fingers brushed the bruise. “I… I didn’t know. I swear to god, I didn’t. We thought you were…” She trailed off, the word unspoken but unmistakable.
Dead.
You let out a breath, something between a laugh and a sob, your chest tight. “Yeah,” you rasped, your voice quieter than before. “Me too.”
The words hung there, and for the first time, Ellie met your eyes. Hers were bloodshot, rimmed with something that might’ve been tears if either of you were the kind of people who let them fall.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
God, you wanted to say it was fine. That it didn’t matter, that you understood, but it wasn’t fine. So you looked away instead, your fingers curling weakly into the blanket, and let the silence fill the room again.
“Joel’s awake,” Ellie said, her voice barely a whisper, like speaking it too loud might undo it. She rubbed the back of her neck, eyes fixed on a crack in the floor. “Been asking for you. Muttering your name when he drifts off.”
The words lodged in your chest, sharp and heavy all at once. You swallowed against the lump in your throat, forcing your voice out.
“Well,” you muttered, the bitterness bleeding through before you could stop it, “it’s not like I can move.” The moment the words left you, regret twisted in your stomach. “I’m sorry—”
Ellie flinched like she’d been slapped, and the look on her face stopped you cold. Guilt etched into every line of her expression, in the way her jaw clenched and her eyes stayed rooted to the floor.
“No,” she said hoarsely, shaking her head. “I deserve it. All of it. I just… I dunno.” Her voice cracked around the words. “You know, Joel and I weren’t exactly… good. And seeing him like that…all fucked up and broken and barely breathing — it was…”
She trailed off, swallowing hard, her fingers trembling at her sides.
Without thinking, you reached out, your hand moving with more instinct than strength, brushing against hers. The contact was light, but Ellie froze like it was enough to break her.
“I know,” you whispered.
Every jagged, complicated piece of it. The anger. The love. The regret. Seeing someone you weren’t sure you forgave bleeding out on a floor could still shatter something in you.
Ellie’s shoulders slumped, and she let out a breath that sounded like it’d been held for days. Her hand turned in yours, fingers curling hesitantly around yours in a fragile, unspoken truce.
“Anyway…” Ellie started, her voice barely cutting through the heavy quiet between you. She gave a dry, humorless laugh, scratching at the back of her neck. “Tommy’s trying to find a wheelchair. So you can, uh… go see Joel.”
The words landed like a stone in your chest. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the sting behind your eyelids, then gave the smallest nod. Your fingers tightened weakly around Ellie’s, more a twitch than a squeeze, but she felt it.
“Good,” you murmured.
Ellie let out a breath, her hand lingering in yours a beat longer than either of you expected. There was something fragile in the way she held on, like neither of you knew how to let go.
The door opened with a soft creak, and Tommy stepped inside, his face a map of exhaustion and grief. New lines had carved themselves into his skin, and the dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights.
“You’re awake,” he said softly, though his voice cracked around the edges. He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself. “Been out for two days.”
Your stomach twisted. Two days lost to the dark, to a world moving on without you.
Tommy stepped closer, his eyes flicking to Ellie’s hand still clutching yours before settling on your face. “Joel’s stable now. Finally. He’s awake, but…” He hesitated, the words catching in his throat like splinters. “He’s in bad shape. Got a long road ahead. Broken ribs, leg’s busted, nerve damage. Mood’s… all over the place. Can’t move right. Doc says he’s lucky to be alive.”
The room seemed to tilt slightly, your heart clenching so hard it hurt. You nodded slowly, swallowing the knot of emotion lodged in your throat.
“I wanna see him,” you whispered.
Tommy managed a tired, crooked smile. “Soon as I get that chair, we’ll take you down.”
He lingered for a moment like he wanted to say more. An apology or a promise, but in the end, he just gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping out.
Ellie gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go, and then slipped out the door after Tommy.
The hallway felt impossibly long, every turn of the wheelchair an unbearable wait you could hardly endure. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a fragile, panicked thing. Tommy said nothing as he pushed you, his grip tight on the handles, jaw clenched, grief carved deep into his face.
When he finally stopped, he didn’t look at you. Just gave your shoulder a light squeeze and quietly slipped out, leaving you alone with the low hum of machines and the suffocating weight of everything you’d been afraid to face.
Your breath hitched the moment your eyes found Joel.
A broken, battered shell of the man you knew. His face was unrecognizable — bruises blooming in deep purples and sickly yellows, his jaw swollen, one eye sealed shut beneath split, bloodied skin. Only one eye remained open, dull and glassy, staring toward the ceiling. He was propped against a stack of stiff, hospital-issued pillows, the thin blanket barely covering the broad frame that had once felt unmovable, indestructible.
A soft, strangled sob tore from your throat before you could stop it. The sound felt too loud in the sterile room, but you couldn’t swallow it down.
This wasn’t how you were supposed to see him.
Your fingers trembled against the rough fabric of the blanket pooled in your lap. You wanted to reach out, to take his hand, to feel some warmth, some proof of life, but your body felt too heavy, your heart too splintered.
You bit down hard on your lip, the taste of copper sharp against your tongue, trying to steady yourself. But nothing about this was steady. Nothing about it was fair.
A thousand memories crashed through you in a heartbeat. His gruff laugh, the way he called your name when you lagged behind on patrol, the feel of his hand steadying you when the world felt too sharp. And now… this.
“Joel,” you whispered, the word catching on a sob, your voice cracking under the weight of it.
The good eye shifted, slowly, until it met yours.
The machines filled the room with their steady, heartless beeping. His gaze was unfocused, cloudy with pain, but there was something in it—the faintest flicker of recognition.
Your throat ached as you forced out a breath. “I’m here.”
Tears blurred your vision, your chest tight enough that it felt like it might cave in. You reached out, fingers barely brushing his hand where it rested, bruised and slack, against the bed.
His fingers twitched.
And that was enough to shatter you.
You bent forward as far as your battered body would allow, resting your forehead against the edge of the mattress, your shoulders shaking as silent, broken sobs wracked through you.
You didn’t care how you looked. Didn’t care about the pain or the machines or the thick scent of antiseptic. He was alive. And it was somehow worse than death.
You weren’t sure either of you would come back from this.
Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Proposal, Engagement, Fireworks, Loud Sounds, Sparklers, PDA, Fruits, Instagram Posts and Comments,
Word Count: 4.3k
A/N: WELL— um, hi! Happy New Year, my loves! I’d like to start off by saying thank you all so much for supporting me throughout this year, and to all the new followers and old ones, just know I appreciate literally each and every single one of you. Lastly, huge shoutout to @mrspascalsworld for coming up with this idea and to the 🌼!anon request.
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift, You Are In Love (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift
← Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | PEDRO PASCAL MAIN MASTERLIST |
HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — DAY
You hummed softly under your breath, the tune indistinct but soothing as your hands folded the last of Pedro’s shirts. You carefully smoothed out the fabric, placing it into his suitcase with meticulous care. His cologne, a comforting blend of cedar and spice, lingered faintly in the air around you.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Pedro’s voice broke through the quiet, warm and tinged with amusement.
You turned, finding him leaning casually against the doorway, his arms crossed and an endearing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat. Dressed in a soft cotton t-shirt and worn jeans, his hair slightly tousled, he looked effortlessly handsome.
“Someone has to make sure you look presentable for tonight,” you teased, holding up a crisp white shirt. “Can’t have you showing up to a New Year’s Eve party looking like you’ve been wrestling stray dogs.”
“Oh, I see,” he said, feigning offense as he stepped closer. “Is this just a clever way of saying I’m hopeless without you?”
You raised an eyebrow. “If the shoe fits…”
Pedro chuckled, his laughter low and rich as he reached for you. He didn’t touch you, not immediately. Instead, he watched you, his gaze softening in a way that made your chest tighten.
“What?” you asked, a little self-conscious under his scrutiny.
“Nothing,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “Just… you. Like this. It’s perfect.”
“Oh, stop,” you said, rolling your eyes to mask the heat creeping up your cheeks. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me while I’m trying to fold your underwear.”
He laughed, the sound filling the room like sunlight. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.” But even as he said it, his hands found your waist, pulling you gently toward him. “For now.”
You let yourself be drawn into his orbit, your arms instinctively looping around his neck. His touch was warm, grounding. “What’s gotten into you today?” you asked softly, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.
“Nothing,” he said, though the slight tension in his voice betrayed him. His gaze dropped for a moment before meeting yours again, and he offered a small, crooked smile. “Just thinking about… everything. Projects, the future. It’s a lot.”
You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his scruff. “You’re going to be amazing, Pedro. You always are.”
“You think so?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable.
You nodded firmly. “I know so. And you don’t have to do it alone, okay? I’m here. Always.” You held up your pinky. “Promise.”
Pedro’s lips twitched into a genuine smile as he linked his pinky with yours. “Promise.”
Then he kissed you, slow and deliberate, as if to seal the vow. The world outside seemed to blur, leaving only the two of you. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.
“I would do this every day if I could,” he murmured, his voice a soft confession.
“You can,” you replied, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest as you swayed gently to an imaginary tune. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Pedro’s grip tightened slightly, and for a moment, you thought you saw something unspoken in his eyes. But before you could ask, he leaned in to kiss you again, and whatever it was melted away into the warmth of his embrace.
HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — AFTERNOON
The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the sheer white curtains of the open-air restaurant at Hotel Esencia, casting a golden glow over everything it touched. The gentle hum of the ocean in the background, paired with the soft tinkling of glasses and plates, created a tranquil yet vibrant atmosphere. The restaurant’s lush greenery blended seamlessly with the warm tones of the terracotta floor and wooden furnishings.
You sat at a circular table with Pedro, Omar, Franklin, and Lauren, the sound of their laughter mixing with the gentle rustling of the palm trees outside. Pedro sat beside you, one arm draped casually over the back of your chair. His fingers occasionally brushed your shoulder in soft, fleeting touches as he engaged in a lively debate with Omar about the best way to cut a mango.
“I’m telling you,” Pedro said, gesturing emphatically with his free hand, “the best way is to slice it like a hedgehog and then flip it out.”
Omar snorted. “That’s beginner-level mango cutting. You gotta peel it and slice it thin, man. That’s the pro way.”
Lauren leaned in, sipping her drink. “Why are we even debating this? The hotel staff cut it perfectly for us. Just eat it!”
Pedro turned to you, a wide grin spreading across his face. “What do you think, cariño? Hedgehog or pro slices?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Honestly? I think you both just like the sound of your own voices.”
The table erupted into laughter, and Pedro, ever the showman, pretended to be deeply offended. “Traitor,” he teased, leaning closer to you.
As the conversation continued, Pedro reached for a small plate of fruit in the center of the table. He speared a slice of mango with a fork and held it out to you. “Here,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Taste this and tell me I’m right.”
You rolled your eyes playfully but leaned in, letting him feed you the fruit. The sweet, tangy flavor exploded on your tongue, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay,” you admitted, licking your lips. “That’s really good.”
Pedro’s face lit up with triumph. “See? Hedgehog for the win!”
“Does the mango really matter, or are you just using this as an excuse to feed her?” Franklin teased from across the table, his eyebrow raised in mock suspicion.
Pedro didn’t miss a beat. “A little of both,” he admitted, squeezing your hand under the table.
You felt your cheeks warm, and Lauren sighed dramatically. “You two are so gross. Like, cute-gross. But still gross.”
“Oh, come on,” you said, laughing as you leaned against Pedro’s shoulder. “We’re not that bad.”
“Yes, you are,” Omar interjected, pointing at you with his fork. “The way you two look at each other? It’s like a rom-com in real life. I’m waiting for the dramatic love confession during a thunderstorm any day now.”
Pedro chuckled, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “Sorry to disappoint, but I save my dramatic love confessions for sunny beaches and candlelit dinners.”
“Of course you do,” Franklin said dryly.
The banter continued as plates were passed around and stories were exchanged. At one point, Pedro leaned closer to you, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke softly. “You look beautiful today, by the way. I don’t think I’ve told you yet.”
You turned to him, your smile softening. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself, you know.”
His grin widened, and he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “I’ll take it.”
As the lunch wound down, Pedro took another piece of fruit and held it to your lips, his expression playful. “Last one?”
You bit into it, laughing as he exaggerated a swoon. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.
“And you love it,” he replied confidently, his eyes sparkling.
Omar groaned. “Seriously, can someone separate these two before I die from secondhand sweetness?”
Lauren raised her glass. “Here’s to our disgustingly in-love friends. May their PDA always remind us how single we are.”
The table burst into laughter, and you felt Pedro’s hand tighten around yours, grounding you in the midst of the playful chaos.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice just for you. “I’ll make it even worse later.”
You nudged him gently with your elbow, unable to hide your grin. “I’m holding you to that.”
With the ocean breeze swirling around you and Pedro’s warmth beside you, the moment felt like a scene from one of your favorite romance novels—perfectly ordinary and yet entirely magical.
HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — EVENING
The New Year’s Eve party was in full swing by the time you and Pedro arrived. The beach was transformed into a luminous paradise. Fairy lights strung between swaying palm trees bathed everything in a warm, golden glow. Lanterns floated lazily in the night sky, their soft flickers mirrored on the rippling waves. The mingling sounds of music, laughter, and the gentle crash of the ocean created a magical atmosphere that felt otherworldly yet comforting.
Pedro walked beside you, his hand firmly gripping yours, a quiet, grounding presence amid the bustle of the party. His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of your hand, a wordless reassurance that seemed to say, I’m here, and I’m not letting go.
You greeted friends with smiles and exchanged well-wishes for the new year. Omar cracked jokes that had everyone in your group doubling over in laughter. Franklin and Lauren danced barefoot on the sand, spinning and twirling under the fairy lights. Pedro chuckled softly, pulling you closer to his side as you watched the others, your heart swelling at the sight of such joy.
At one point, Pedro leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I have a surprise for you.”
You tilted your head, curious. “Oh? What kind of surprise?”
He grinned, a hint of mischief lighting his eyes. “You’ll see. Come with me.”
With a quick goodbye to your friends, Pedro led you away from the crowd. You followed him down a narrow path lined with flickering candles in glass jars. The sound of the party faded into the distance, replaced by the rhythmic lapping of the waves against the shore. Each step seemed to draw you further into an intimate bubble, a world that consisted only of you and Pedro.
When you rounded the corner, you stopped in your tracks. A secluded section of the beach had been transformed into something out of a dream. Strings of fairy lights hung between tall wooden poles, casting a warm, golden light over a blanket spread neatly on the sand. Soft, colorful pillows were arranged in inviting clusters, and a bottle of champagne rested in an ice bucket nearby. Candles flickered in the gentle breeze, their flames casting dancing shadows across the scene.
“Pedro,” you breathed, your voice catching. Your hand flew to your chest as you took it all in. “What is this?”
He turned to you, his expression softer, more serious than you’d ever seen. “Something I’ve been planning for a while now.”
Before you could ask what he meant, Pedro took both of your hands in his, his fingers warm and slightly trembling. His thumb stroked over your knuckles, grounding both of you in the moment.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he began, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “About everything we’ve been through. About how much you’ve changed my life. You’re my best friend, my partner, my everything. You’ve made me laugh on my worst days and held me together when I thought I’d fall apart. I can’t imagine a future without you in it.”
Your breath hitched, tears welling up in your eyes. He squeezed your hands, his gaze locked on yours.
“I want your midnights and late-night snack hunts,” he continued, his lips curving into a soft smile. “I want to slow dance in the kitchen with you, humming our favorite songs. I want every moment, big and small, because you make all of them better just by being there.”
Pedro dropped to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. The sight stole the breath from your lungs.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion, his brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you?”
You were nodding before he even finished speaking, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. “Yes,” you choked out, your voice trembling with joy. “Of course, yes.”
The world seemed to hold its breath as Pedro slid the ring onto your finger. It was delicate and timeless, a gold band adorned with a diamond that shimmered under the fairy lights. You recognized it instantly as the one his mother had worn in old photographs. The significance of it made your heart swell.
Pedro stood and pulled you into his arms, spinning you around as laughter bubbled from your lips. Tears mingled with joy as you clung to him, your face buried in his neck.
“I love you,” he murmured, his voice shaky. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers threading through his hair.
Cheers erupted behind you, startling you both. You turned to see Omar, Franklin, Lauren, and a handful of other friends holding sparklers, their faces alight with joy as they cheered and clapped. Phones were out, capturing the moment from every angle. The scene felt surreal, like something out of a fairy tale.
Pedro’s smile widened as he kissed you again, his lips soft and lingering against yours. When the fireworks began, you flinched at the loud bangs, your body instinctively tensing. Pedro’s arms tightened around you, his hand cradling the back of your head.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. “Always.”
You pressed your face into his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. When you looked up, his hand was already there to wipe away the stray tear trailing down your face.
“Let’s go,” he said softly, taking your hand. “I want to start this year with just us.”
You nodded, letting him lead you back to your suite. The walk felt like a dream, the buzz of the party and the distant sound of fireworks fading into the background. When you entered the room, the warmth of his hand never left yours.
Pedro closed the door gently behind you, his eyes soft but brimming with unspoken emotion. He stepped closer, his hands cradling your face as he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
“You’re my everything,” he murmured before his lips met yours in a kiss that stole your breath. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating taste of him.
Clothes were shed in a trail leading to the bed, each piece falling away with whispered promises and quiet gasps. Pedro’s hands were everywhere, tracing the curves of your body as if committing them to memory. His lips followed, leaving a trail of fire along your skin that made you shiver.
He laid you down gently, his body hovering over yours. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, his voice low and reverent.
“Never,” you whispered, your hands threading through his hair to pull him back down to you.
The night stretched on, filled with love and passion. Pedro’s touch was both tender and consuming, every kiss and caress carrying the weight of his feelings. And as you lay tangled together afterward, his arms wrapped tightly around you, you knew this was the first of countless nights you’d spend like this.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Happy New Year,” you echoed, your voice soft and full of love.
With Pedro beside you, the future felt impossibly bright.
HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — MORNING
The sunlight streamed through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow. You stirred awake, the warmth of Pedro’s arms wrapped securely around you. His chest rose and fell against your back, the soft rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a sense of pure peace.
“Good morning, fiancé,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
You smiled, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “Good morning, fiancé.”
Pedro’s lips curved into a lazy grin as he brushed a kiss against your temple. “Fiancé. I like how that sounds. Doesn’t it sound so official? Like I’ve been upgraded.”
You laughed, rolling over to face him fully. “Oh, it’s an upgrade, all right. High maintenance, though. Hope you’re ready for that.”
His hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer. “Worth every bit of maintenance,” he said softly, his brown eyes locking onto yours with a gaze so full of love it made your heart ache.
After a few blissful moments of cuddling, you sat up, the blanket slipping off your shoulders. Pedro reached for his phone on the nightstand, his fingers brushing yours as you both instinctively checked your messages.
The notifications on his screen were wild—texts from friends, family, and coworkers all pouring in, congratulating him. You could already hear Franklin’s teasing voice in your head: “Finally! You pulled it off without tripping over yourself.”
Pedro chuckled at the chaos. “Looks like the engagement buzz has already started.”
You glanced at his phone over his shoulder, spotting a text from his sister. “Let me guess, your sister is already planning our wedding?”
“Not just her—my cousins have entered the group chat. They’re plotting from all angles.” He scrolled further, smirking as he turned his phone toward you. “Look at this: Lauren sent a voice note. Wanna bet it’s just her screaming?”
You both laughed as he played the message, and sure enough, Lauren’s excited squeals filled the room.
“I love them,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“And they love you,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Speaking of love… I was thinking. Maybe it’s time I post something. You know, about us.”
You raised an eyebrow. Pedro was famously private when it came to his personal life. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” He turned to you, his expression serious but full of warmth. “I want the whole world to know how lucky I am. I want to shout it from the rooftops—or, you know, post it on Instagram.”
Your cheeks flushed, and you nudged him playfully. “You’re such a romantic, Pascal.”
He grinned, already opening the app. “Only for you, amor.”
Pedro scrolled through the photos you’d taken during the trip, landing on one from last night. It was a candid shot that Franklin had snapped during the proposal. You were mid-laugh, tears of joy sparkling in your eyes, and Pedro was on one knee, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.
“That one,” he said softly, showing you the picture. “It’s perfect.”
Your heart swelled. “It’s us.”
Pedro typed the caption, pausing dramatically as he turned the phone toward you. “‘Guess what 💍.’ Too much?”
You burst out laughing, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “It’s perfect. Post it before I change my mind and make you write a paragraph.”
He tapped the screen, and the post was live.
It didn’t take long for the post to gain traction. Within minutes, the comments flooded in, and Pedro couldn’t stop grinning as he scrolled through them, reading some aloud.
@ franklinlatt: FINALLY. My boy did it. I’m crying. Call me later or I’m disowning you.
@ laurenalexander: AHHHH!!! We need a wedding planning spreadsheet STAT.
@ omar.apollo: Pedro Pascal is officially off the market. RIP to all of us. Congrats, you two!!
Fans were equally unhinged:
@ pedropascalfan101: I AM SOBBING. LOOK AT THEM.
@ fiancégoals: Pedro, how does it feel to have found the literal love of your life? Asking for a friend.
@ pedropascalfanaccount: HOLY CRAP HE DID IT. DADDY IS OFF THE MARKET.
@ pedropascalforever: We love this for you but also… who do I cry to about this???
@ pedrostan: She’s GORGEOUS. Look at them. LOOK AT THEM. I’M SOBBING.
@ cocoullrich: About damn time, man! Congrats to you both!
@ pascalloml: Pedro Pascal is the blueprint of a man. Take notes, everyone.
@ hollywoodbuzz: Pedro Pascal announces engagement in the most adorable way ever. We’re not crying; YOU are.
Pedro chuckled, showing you the screen. “I think they’re happy for us.”
You leaned against him, scrolling through the comments. “Some of them are a little heartbroken, though.”
He kissed your cheek. “They’ll survive. I’ve already won the lottery with you, anyway.”
HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — LATER THAT MORNING
The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. After a decadent breakfast in bed—mimosas fizzing in crystal glasses, pancakes piled high and dripping with syrup—you and Pedro moved to the balcony. The ocean stretched endlessly before you, its gentle rhythm matching the easy calm between you.
Pedro leaned back in his chair, a slight breeze ruffling his tousled hair, his eyes fixed on you with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You were turning your engagement ring slowly between your fingers, the sunlight catching on the delicate details of the band.
“It was my mom’s, you know,” he said, his voice breaking the peaceful silence.
Your head shot up, surprise and awe softening your expression. “Pedro…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “It’s beautiful. I can’t believe you’d trust me with something so meaningful.”
He reached across the small table, his hand enveloping yours, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles over your skin. “It’s not just trust, amor. It’s love. Belonging. This ring belonged to her, and now it belongs to you. Because you’re my family now. You’re the person I want to build my life with—the one I want to pass this kind of love down through.”
The sincerity in his words undid you. Your eyes filled with tears, but you managed a shaky smile. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you? Were you saving all this charm for after the engagement?”
Pedro laughed, the sound warm and rich, leaning forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re not the only one evolving here. I’m in full fiancé mode now—expect poetic declarations, grand gestures, and probably some embarrassing moments along the way.”
You giggled, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. “I don’t think my heart can handle much more.”
He grinned, the dimple you loved so much making its appearance. “Then I guess I’m doing something right.”
For a moment, the world seemed to fade away—the waves, the breeze, the distant hum of life below. There was only Pedro and the quiet magic of being his.
Then, his phone buzzed on the table, pulling you both back to the present. Pedro glanced at the screen and groaned. “It’s Lux. She’s FaceTiming me. Should we answer, or let her stew a little longer?”
“Answer,” you said, laughing. “You know she won’t stop until you do.”
With a resigned smile, Pedro swiped to accept the call, holding the phone out so you were both in the frame. Lux’s face appeared, and her mock-outrage was immediate.
“Finally!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. And no heads-up? No exclusive family memo?”
Pedro smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Some things are worth keeping a surprise, hermana.”
Lux rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Well, surprise or not, I’m happy for you guys. You’re disgustingly perfect together, and I love it. But don’t think this gets you out of celebrating properly when you’re back.”
You leaned into the frame, grinning. “We’ll be ready for whatever chaos you’ve got planned.”
“Good. Oh, and don’t forget to call Dad, Pedro,” Lux added, her tone turning maternal.
Pedro groaned. “Yes, yes. I’ll call him right after this. Thanks for the reminder, coach.”
Lux laughed. “Love you both. Now go enjoy your engagement. And call Dad, or I’ll never let you hear the end of it.”
As the call ended, Pedro set his phone down with a shake of his head. “That woman. It’s like she’s my manager and life coach rolled into one.”
You smiled, leaning your chin on your hand as you gazed at him. “She’s not wrong, though. You should call your dad before he finds out from the media.”
Pedro sighed dramatically but nodded. “You’re right, as usual. I’ll be back in a second.”
He disappeared inside to make the call, leaving you on the balcony with the soothing sound of the waves and the weight of the ring on your finger. You turned it slowly, marveling at the reality of it all.
When Pedro returned, his face was lit with joy. “He cried. Happy tears, don’t worry. And he’s already planning a trip to wherever we’re going next.”
You laughed. “Guess we’d better get ready for some family bonding.”
Pedro sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “As long as you’re with me, I’m ready for anything.”
You tilted your head to look up at him, your heart swelling with love. “I feel the same way. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.”
He leaned down to kiss you, soft and lingering, as if sealing a vow between you. The world felt bright and endless, full of promise. And for the first time, you were certain: you were exactly where you were meant to be.
here you will find some fics i've enjoyed from january-june! we are officially halfway through the year and I've read some incredible fics thus far!
to the writers- thank you for sharing your work with us!
to the readers - please send these writers your love by commenting, reblogging, and liking!
also - these are not marked as to what's smut and what's not. please read the warnings of every fic before you decide to read. thank you!
beautiful dividers are made by @saradika-graphics
alright! now let's get into it!
stranger things
eddie munson
back to friends by @amanitacowboy
troubled cure, for a troubled mind by @levanswrites
all hope is gone by @trashmouth-richie
invisible lovers by @mediocredreams
when she was bad by @elegantpaperoperatormaker
damsels and debauchery: the d&d chronicles by @mrsjellymunson
do it for me by @pedgito
the hat rule by @ghost-proofbaby
my my those eyes like fire (ft gareth) by @the-unforgivenn
the dos and donts of fake dating by @joequiinn
bruises by @lonelysatellites
the devil in me by @writhingg
steve harrington
body to flame by @stevenose
don't delete the kisses by @stevenose
broken promises by @supernovafics
your biggest hater by @hellfire--cult
american engine by @rebelfell
steddie (with reader)
hurry up and wait by @rebelfell
the slut, the prince, the freak by @maroon-cardigan
dick measuring contest by @pedgito
gladiator 2
emperor geta
servant x reader series by @getaapologist
violent hearts by @lonelysatellites
the last of us
joel miller
strangers by @pedgito
in the backseat by @/pedgito
lover's patrol (crack fic with eddie) by @/pedgito
little lamb by @chaotic-mystery
hotline to heaven by @chaotic-mystery
untitled by @stellamarielu
catching flights and snowflakes by @hellishjoel
idle hands by @honeyandruin
born again by @kedsandtubesocks
jesse
lovers fever by @aureatelys
holster by @pedgito
ellie williams
lunch by @eddies-ashtray
ppcu
dave york
keystrokes by @mothandpidgeon
harry castillo
a prize i'd cheat to win by @whoevenisjavier
stuffed by @pedgito
javier peña
plus one by @chaotic-mystery
poison either way (ft dave york) by @guiltyasdave
dieter bravo
cowboy like me by @chaotic-mystery
never have I ever by @wannab-urs
din djarin
beg by @amanitacowboy
marvel
bob reynolds
leave the gentle things behind by @lewmagoo
bucky barnes
we'll be alright by @hauntedhowlett-writes
johnny storm
the flaming hearts fan club by @glassbxttless
lesson learned by @prettycalla
graphic made by me (;
again these amazingly beautiful dividers are made by @saradika-graphics !!!! please go check her out, she makes amazing graphics and dividers!!!
thank you to all the writers again! i hope to have a big list like this at the end of the year, too! <3
These are some PPCU fics I have read and enjoyed recently since June 2025 apparently holy shit, this has been in my drafts for too fucking long and I need to start a fresh one. Some new. Some Old. All have smut. Please show them some love. Read all warnings! Not everything is for everyone and that is ok. Please always comment AND reblog fics you enjoy to show love to the authors 🖤
Joel Miller
Ride // @beardedjoel
You try to grapple with feelings for your parents' friend while getting absolutely railed by him.
Waiting Game // @gutsby
Joel has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.
The Cure For Suffering // @millermouth
All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire. —the second truth.
Keep Me A Secret // @fxckingjo
Joel Miller shows you exactly how he feels about you
Wayfarer // @magpiepills
Joel fucks you nice and rough in a run down motel.
Dirty Little Secret (series) // @pedroscurls
You become involved with joel miller—the father of the bride. he was meant to be your dirty little secret to get you through the wedding festivities, but falling for him wasn't part of the plan.
Winter-Kissed // @aurorawritestoescape
Joel returns home from patrol and you help him get warm with your body.
The journey // @milla-frenchy
After Joel and Ellie reach the University of Eastern Colorado, they find out that the Fireflies relocated to Salt Lake City. Attacked by a group of men, they barely manage to escape the place. When Ellie is kidnapped by the same group, weakened and injured Joel goes after her, and on his way he crosses paths with you
Let Alone The One You Love // @cozymochaa
Insecurities flood your mind when Joel raises his voice at you for the first time.
Marcus Acacius
Peccatum Dulce // @missadangel
Your husband couldn’t give you an heir, but the general-the one who’s watched, wanted, and would burn the Empire to put one in you, calls you peccatum dulce, the sweetest sin he’d damn himself for… and tonight, he will taste every drop.
Clint Flood
Ten Grand // @baronessvonglitter
Trying to cover your brother's debt lands you in even more trouble.
Safety Off // @missadangel
There’s a lotta ways a Friday night can go sideways. For a debt collector, most of them ain’t pretty. But getting robbed by a fine-ass thief? That’s new. Her gun? Safety off. His temper? Already ON.
Tim Rockford + Ted Garcia
Good Behavior // @magpiepills
Reader, you are an inmate at Tim’s prison and he owes a favor to the mayor.
Self Recs
Legion Chapter II: Legatus
Caesar’s Legion is invading the Mojave Wasteland. After your unfortunate run in with their horrific atrocities, a high ranking legionary spares you for one sole purpose. Dark!Acacius
Get Your Fix
Joel Miller is all business but when you show up on his doorstep unexpected how can he say no? QZ!Joel
❪ 𝖶𝖧𝒾𝖲𝖯𝖤𝖱𝖲 ❫ babysiting oscar isaac's child with pedro pascal, leads to a couple of mishaps ─⠀ fluff
꒰ 🧾 ꒱ when life give you tangerines , 9th member of girls generation
⸝⸝ ◜◡◝ i just imagine pedro being the fun uncle + based on a tiktok i forgot to like it but if you found it , its based by that
The house had settled into that sweet, heavy quiet, the kind that only comes after a storm of baby giggles, tiny tantrums, and runaway sippy cups. Oscar asked the two to take care of their sweet baby boy ─Eugene, as he and his wife, Elvira would take a four day escape in Maldives.
It wasn’t that the two of them didn’t love Eugene—they did—but they had to admit, there was a bittersweet sting to the thought of spending four days in the same house as a one-year-old and they wanted to go to Maldives with the couple. And that sting was layered with the knowledge that they wouldn’t be able to escape the diapers, the flying food, the midnight feedings, and the inevitable burping messes.
Pedro’s eyes softened, and he exchanged a knowing glance with Amari. “It’s like sending a piece of our hearts away,” he murmured. Oscar, seeing their hesitation, just chuckled and ruffled Pedro’s hair. “You guys got this. He’s a good boy, promise.”
Pedro shot him a dramatic, pleading look, his eyes wide like a puppy who’d been left out in the rain. “I know he’s a good boy... but the kid is like a tiny human tornado. He gets it from you,” Pedro grumbled, his voice half-joking, half-serious.
Amari laughed softly, shaking her head, but she knew they were in for a wild ride. “We’ll survive,” she assured Oscar, her smile gentle. “You deserve it." She smiled as she glanced at Elvira's knowing look of guidance and nervousness, "Just—please don’t forget to text us every hour or something. I might need a sanity check.” Amari laughed at her and hugged her to soothe her with ease.
In that moment, the gravity of the task mingled with humor, creating an atmosphere of shared responsibility and gentle teasing. As the couple instructed many things like, don't forget to place the toys after they were played or take the trash everyday. Pedro wrapped an arm around Amari’s shoulder as they watched Oscar and Elvira disappear down the hallway, their departure marked by the soft clack of shoes against the wooden floor.
The pair settled into the new rhythm with a promise to keep Eugene safe and loved—a soft, playful pact. And even as they braced themselves for the challenges ahead, they couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected gift of time: time to explore each other’s company in the peaceful silence of a house that, even for a few days, belonged entirely to them.
And with that, the two were off, leaving Pedro and Amari standing in the doorway with Eugene, now tugging at Pedro’s shirt as if trying to drag him toward the living room. “Alright, little man,” Pedro said, settling Eugene on his hip. “Guess it’s just you and me now.” Amari glanced at Pedro, her lips curving into a playful smile. “I’m starting to think I was the third wheel in all this, huh? You two look pretty cozy already.” Pedro laughed as he rocked eugene, him and his quirky dances.
“Great,” Amari sighed, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess the real babysitting has begun.” Oh how wrong she was with those four days of suffering (joy).
The house had settled into that sweet, heavy quiet, the kind that only comes after a storm of baby giggles, tiny tantrums, and runaway sippy cups. Pedro was sprawled across the couch, one arm thrown lazily over the backrest. Amari curled beside him, a soft blanket tangled around her legs, her head tucked neatly into the space just under his collarbone like a bird finally at rest.
The baby—finally full after a heroic battle involving mashed bananas and half a tub of yogurt—was waddling sleepily across the carpet, tiny fists rubbing his eyes.
Pedro chuckled under his breath, brushing a hand gently through Amari's hair. "You’re dangerous, you know that?" he murmured, voice low and syrupy, vibrating against her ear. "Feeding him, singing to him... I think you just stole his heart." She smiled as her fingers lazily draw circles, playing with the hem of his shirt, "Takes one to know one, oppa," she whispered, teasing.
Pedro tipped his head back against the couch, a soft, rumbling laugh spilling from his throat. His other hand reached for the baby, guiding him into his lap effortlessly. The little one collapsed against him like a drunk sailor, safe in the fortress of Pedro’s arms.
For a moment, Amari just watched—heart aching sweetly at the sight. Pedro, his dark curls messy, his smile softened into something golden and unguarded. The baby breathing deep against his chest. A slice of forever tucked into an ordinary night. But then—a low, subtle ache bloomed in her stomach, quiet but persistent. Hunger, threading itself through her senses. She hadn't eaten since early afternoon, too swept up in bottles, bath times, and tiny socks scattered across the floor.
The thought of food made her almost giddy with longing, but she swallowed it down with a small, guilty breath. She didn’t want to disturb the softness of the moment, the gentle miracle of it, Pedro warm beside her and Eugene breathing in even, delicate puffs.
Instead, she leaned into him for one last second, memorizing the way his chest rose and fell, the faint scent of him — baby milk, baby soap and something uniquely Pedro.
Pedro hummed low in his throat, not quite awake but feeling the loss of her warmth as she untangled herself slowly, like pulling free from a dream. She smiled faintly, standing up and padding quietly down the hallway.
Her footsteps were soft as secrets on the hardwood floor, the ache of hunger growing, but she said nothing. As she glanced at pedro still rocking little eugene to sleep she went to the counter where she placed — lotte cheetos as she grabbed it b her fingers slowly, lifting it and tucking in her waist. It was easier to slip away quietly, to pretend that everything she needed was as simple as stepping into another room.
꒰ ྀི ᥩ few minutes later
Finally, peace. Finally, her long-awaited Cheetos.
She placed her phone carefully against the white cabinets of the small pantry, the smell of leftover food and sweet spices lifting into the air, cradling her in a quiet kind of joy. Her figure, still wrapped in the cozy nighttime air, was bathed in the low kitchen light, all soft edges and sleepy laughter.
She hit record without thinking, planning to send the video later to Elvira—just a secret between girls.
With a sigh almost reverent, she opened the bag of junk food. Her hand, pinkie raised like a quiet crown, raced upward. The crinkling of the plastic was thunderous in the small space. The scent hit her first—cheese dust and pure happiness.
She popped the first Cheeto into her mouth, biting down with a dramatic crunch that echoed off the pantry walls. Bliss, pure bliss as she closed her eyes and leaned near the wall, but just as she was reaching for a second piece—
The door creaked.
The door just creaked.
Her eyes widened, as she was in mid bite glancing at her side was Pedro—hair a mess, socks dragging on the tile floor, looking like he had just survived a war. His eyes locked onto the bag in her hand, wild and wounded. Not that he is helping in his hand was a pair of a large pizza slice he stole from the counter.
A heartbeat passed. Then two.
And without a word, the two laughed uncontrollably, bumping into each other with such clumsy force that it sent them spiraling into another fit of breathless giggles, their shoulders colliding, hands scrambling for balance. Trying—desperately trying—to muffle the sounds, both of them pressed their palms against their mouths, bodies folding in half from the effort.
"You’re unbelievable," Pedro wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes—but his hand was already buried deep in the bag, fishing out another Cheeto with that same desperate, childlike glee. Amari elbowed him gently, breath hitching, laughter bursting in soft little puffs through her fingers as she fought for air. She clutched her side, trying not to collapse entirely.
"Close the door, close the door," she whispered, sharp and giggling, jabbing him with her knee as he just stood there uselessly, grinning like an idiot.
Pedro, still half-wheezing with laughter, flailed backwards and slammed the pantry door shut with his foot. But as his foot slammed accidently.... created a loud thud, waking the child.
unfortunately, it didn't save the peace.
Both of them froze, eyes wide, mouth agape.
A tiny wail echoed outside as amari hit his shoulder with her palm, "You woke him up, go there" as amari whispered at pedro, smacking Pedro's chest with the back of her hand. Pushing him slightly at the door, as Pedro just looked at her, half-terrified but with an adoring grin on his face. “Babe, you slammed the door,” he hissed, voice cracking.
"I did not, give me the pizza. You gonna walk in there and soothe him" She said as she lunged at the pizza. Pedro snatched the slice higher over his head like a playground bully, grinning wickedly.
"You're taller, go," she hissed, jumping for it, her fingertips just grazing his torso. "You’re lighter, you're faster, go," he countered in a whisper-shout, side-stepping like they were in a clumsy waltz inside the cramped pantry.
Another wail. Louder now.
"Pedro!" Amari gasped, scrambling to catch the tumbling cereal box while trying not to slip on a rogue Cheeto. He looked at her in dismay, as he breathe and bracing himself like a soldier.
"Fine! Fine!" Pedro gasped, surrendering the slice into her hands dramatically, like a knight handing over his sword. "But if he asks for me, tell him I love him." Pedro gaze lovingly at the pizza as she pushed his face with her palm, "Just go!" She murmured at him while giggling.
As Pedro closed the door with a pained look, mouthing exaggerated curses to the heavens, Amari caught the soft click of it latching and turned, breathless.
Her phone was still recording.
The screen caught her in perfect imperfection — hair a little mussed, cheeks flushed from laughter, cradling the stolen slice like a war prize. She grinned, triumphant, the kind of grin that creased her eyes and made her look half her age.
Without missing a beat, she lifted the half-eaten pizza to her mouth and took a huge, unbothered bite, cheeks puffing as she munched happily.
After a while, she sent it to the couple who is still in maldives and a couple of pictures of their sweet baby boy eugene.
She didn't know that after this, Elvira just tag her on her instagram story and she and pedro would never live the day after this.
