Summary: You win a free day with Pedro Pascal, your favorite actor and celebrity crush. Can you keep it together and not freak Pedro out with your fangirliness?

Warnings: Some serious Fangirl Shock but lets be honest, if we met Pedro Pascal we'd go into a coma.

A/N: THIS BOOK HAS REACHED 1K READS!!!! YAY! I'm so excited to see each of my books getting read by all you fangirls and I cherish every comment left and every vote given! This One-Shot is inspired by an idea @Cleaninglady81 gave me during my writer's block for this book. I thought it was the perfect story to celebrate 1K Reads and have carefully saved it 'til now! Thank you all for the reads and votes and support! Let me know if you Pascalalorian's are interested in reading a Mandalorian x Reader book! I started one for a friend and it's getting real long so I may start posting it, if y'all are interested. That aside, onto the One-Shot!

- - - -

No. Freaking. Way.

Those were the exact three words you said when you found out that you of all people had won a free day out with the one and only Pedro Pascal.

As to be expected, there was much squealing and crying and laughing which led to an unfortunate trip over the edge of your rug. You've never cared so little about such a hard fall in your life. Why should you? You get to meet Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal tomorrow and hang out with him all day! One might even consider the whole affair a date. An extremely lucky and otherwordly date that may very well be a one time thing though it will live rent free in your memory for eternity. You're so excited, you continue to trip through the rest of your day into tomorrow which is today. Which means...

There's a knock at your door.

Oh crap oh crap oh freaking craaaaap -

You hastily finish putting your hair up and barrel through your bedroom to answer the door. You didn't want to over do this and freak Pedro out, so you toned your outfit down just enough to be nice but casual. You are barefoot as of yet and your feet slap like flippers on the hardwood as you race down the hall and to the door. By a mere hair of an inch, you avoid careening into the door headfirst and step back, straightening your tanktop and lightweight outerwear. There hasn't been another knock, so you risk an extra second to close your eyes, inhale deep through your nose, and exhale through an open mouth.

Ok...

It's go time.

You pull open the door and oh my freaking Hell...

"Hiiiiiii," You awkwardly greet, voice fading fast as you sheepishly wave the hand not holding open the door.

God bless Pedro Pascal. He looks like a model - well, he is sorta. But that's besides the point! The point is...well, the point is if he wasn't already, he should be, because he's making this black leather jacket and jean combo burn your eyes! Your head is exploding, setting your heart on fire, much like your face. The tingle in both your cheeks is revealing and puts you to shame - allowing for a deeper shade of red that to struggle to hide as Pedro simple smiles kindly and draws his hand from the depths of his jacket pockets, offering it out to you. You eye the skin of his hand, heat rushing from your pounding head to the soles of your feet. Oh my goodness, you really get to touch him?

Oh gosh that sounds so weird, you chide, cringing inside.

"Pedro Pascal, but...I guess you know that," Pedro chuckles.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," You reply, slowly brushing your palm against his.

Your heart is beating erratically. Any doctor would be charging you with cardiac arrest if they saw, but Pedro's no doctor. He's sweet and lovable and the kind of guy to have his head in the clouds, or so he appears to be, judging by the unhealthy amount of interviews you've watched of him. He closes his hand around yours, drawing you slightly out of the doorway and closer to him. The sudden movement, subtle as it is, takes your breath away in an instant. He shakes your limp arm, smiling brightly and nods.

"(Y/N)," He repeats, looking off into nowhere and adds, "That's a pretty name."

EXCUSE ME WHILE I DIE-

"Thank you!" You blurt. "I mean - thanks, that's sweet. I uh..."

I love your name. I mean you. Like, I really love you even though I haven't met you and I know so much about you it's like we're besties.

Ok, you decide, taking yet another deep breath. I can NOT say that.

Before your fangirl brain can concoct more embarrassing monologues, you realize your hand is irritatingly hot and peek down to see it firmly clasped in Pedro's still.

"Uh -"

"Oh, sorry," Pedro apologizes. "I was lost in your eyes."

Well now you're definitely going to die because you can't breathe again and your lungs are flopping like fish out of water.

My eyes?

My ugly ol' (y/c/e) eyes?

If it's even possible at this point, you blush harder than ever, tearing your gaze away from Pedro's enchanting dark eyes and mumble, "You're kidding."

"Me? Kidding?" Pedro scoffs.

Oh man, did I hurt his feelings?

As scared as you are, you feel a sense of relief, knowing that his tone is still very much the familiar silly, excitable one you've come to love. Maybe there's still hope for this 'date' not to fail? Oh you so hope this will go smoothly. Whether Pedro likes you by the end of the day or asks you out again doesn't matter. Ok, that's a lie, it matters a lot but what's most pressing at this given moment is to not scare him off, not offend him, and definitely not kill the chance of him being attracted to you.

Ha, like a guy like him could ever be into me.

"Hey?" Pedro tucks a finger under your chin and your stomach vomits butterflies. Heart attack time! Round two. Your chin goes numb, like it does after having teeth removed at the dentist. Pedro's finger below it pulses with a warmth that begs you to meet his gaze again. As he draws your head back up, you lock eyes with him, steeling yourself to stare into what of his soul you can see behind those chocolatey irises. They sparkle in the early morning sun, reflecting the life of the neighborhood trees; the grass lining the sidewalk and the flowers sprinkled throughout the front yard. Deep in his eyes, you find a comfort greater than that you've ever felt watching him on Youtube or in movies. "Hey, I meant it. You're eyes are beautiful. You look..." Pedro's eyes drop to the rest of your body and you try very hard not to think anything dirty. Pedro sighs softly and meets your eyes, conveying a conviction of the heart as he murmurs, "Tu eres hermosa."

Your heart can't take this.

Neither can your mental well being.

You feel as if you're floating and you know if you don't get this day moving you will go into cardiac arrest and land Pedro with the job of driving you to the ER so -

"Muchas gracias," You reply, to Pedro's amusement. He chuckles. You laugh along with him and easily transition. "So, we've got a whole day huh?"

"The entire day, Senorita," Pedro replies.

His wink sends you spiralling.

Gosh I gotta get a grip or this is gonna be a long day.

"So?" You inquire with a raised brow. "You got some ideas?"

Pedro trails his finger up your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and then draws back, humming thoughtfully. "How would you feel about going for coffee? It's right by a park, you probably know, being the local."

You smile and nod. "Yes, I do."

Now you may kiss the Pedro, a goofy voice inside you chirps.

Luckily Pedro distracts you from that interesting remark.

"Afterwards we could get lunch, then look around town and maybe tonight..." He pauses and scratches the back of his neck. "How would you feel about dancing?"

"Yes! I mean - I meant to say, sure, I love dancing. But uh, I'm not very good-"

"I can teach you," Pedro offers, bouncing on his feet like a child. "If...you want me to?"

You smile sheepishly, replying slowly instead of yelling like your brain is telling you to, "Yes."

*Time Gap brought to you by this book reaching 1K reads! Pascalalorians unite!*

A quiet drive downtown helps ease your nerves. Your entire body itches, every nerve ending fired up being this close to Pedro for the first time in your life. Everytime you fear you're dreaming, you glance at the driver's seat and feel a shiver of delight at the sight of the man you've fallen so hard for right there. Pedro has the radio on low, a comforting hum to fill the silence between you two. Clearly you've both got some seriously thick ice to break, but you have a full twenty four hours to work through it. For now, you lean back in your chair and steal a look at Pedro's immaculate side profile every now and then.

At the coffee shop, Pedro holds the door open for you, just like he did with the car door.

A proper gentleman.

He orders first.

One of his interviews replays in your head. The one where he talks about a few of the things he can't live without, one of which was a book that you searched up after he recommended it and ordered it through amazon.

It was a good read. It didn't disappoint.

And neither does Pedro as he asks for a black coffee lightly sweetened, no creamer, just as he did in the interview.

When it's your turn, you step up the cashier but you suddenly forget every drink you've ever tried or ever wanted to. Your mind goes embarrassingly blank and you decide to get the same thing as Pedro. Why not? If you can read one of his book recommendations, you can try his favorite style of coffee right?

Identical coffees in hand, you and Pedro take to the park, meandering along the windy paths, shoulder to shoulder.

"So," Pedro begins, breaking the silence before you can. "What do you do for work?"

"Oh, uh, nothing as exciting as you," You reply meekly, "My real work is in my writing. I do it on the side but it's what I live for."

"What do you write?"

"Anything, but uh..." You knock back a gulp of coffee for courage and blurt, "Usually something with romance."

Pedro's mouth curls into a smile around the lip of his cup. "Oh I see."

You blush and sip your coffee some more. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah," You nod. "What's your favorite type of film to be in?"

Pedro wipes away a drizzle of his drink on the back of his jacket's sleeve and ponders the question. He purses his lips in a way that has your stomach somersaulting. You fail to keep a straight face and hide it behind your coffee cup for as long as possible.

Eventually, the path takes a turn, curving around a small pond.

It's then that Pedro finds an answer and surprises you with, "Sci-fi."

"Really?" You inquire. "Like...Prospect sort of Sci-Fi?"

"Basically. But...Star Wars...that's Sci-Fi right?" Pedro asks.

It definitely is, you think while nodding.

"Then Sci-Fi it is, though...I've really enjoyed working on Narcos."

"What about The Mentalist?" You chirp out of curiosity. "That was one of the first things I saw you in. I..." loved - "...really liked Pike's character. It was a bummer he didn't get the girl, huh?"

Well that means one less woman Pedro kisses who isn't you! Your brain cheers, making you blush a furious shade of red. What on earth are you thinking? Just because you really enjoy Pedro's persona and acting skills doesn't mean you get first dibs! How many other people are behind a screen, drooling over the man beside you, crying their eyes out because they didn't win the prize of spending a day with him? Your attitude is starting to scare you. Especially with the way it's leaking out as a foreign, giggly girlish voice in your head, distracting you from whatever it is Pedro's saying that's fallen on your stupid deaf ears!

With a subtle shake of your head you plunge back into the present and hear Pedro's wonderful rumbling voice.

"...so I guess I do enjoy Crime Dramas...but the Mandalorian -"

"It's gotta be so exciting," You gush, "Like, being in Star Wars?! Especially for people our age who grew up with it."

"It is!" Pedro agrees. His voice rockets ten pitches too high for someone as masculine as him. He sounds like a little girl at the pony tea-party. It takes him a second to realize how high squeaky he sounded but when he does, he blushes and smiles sheepishly. "It - yeah, it's very exciting."

You chuckle. "I can't wait for Season 3. Any chance you'll tell me what's goin' on behind the scenes as of late...?"

Pedro wards off the playful nudge of your elbow and laughs. "I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you."

"Oh you wouldn't do that," You scoff. "You're a dork not a killer."

"How would you know?" Pedro teases, "It's been an hour!"

Crap.

Crappity crap.

"Uh..." You fumble for a brilliant comeback, drawing Pedro's attention the longer you struggle. Your face burns and there's hardly any coffee left to save you so you do the second best thing that quite frankly should've been number one. You can feel Pedro's eyes searching yours as you stare at the fast shuffle of your feet against the concrete as you admit your fangirl guts to your celebrity crush. "Ever since I saw you for the first time on screen, I really liked you. You acted so well and you well, you looked great and sounded great and so I saw all your movies and I watched your interviews and I'd like to think I know a lot about you. I mean, if what half of what you say about yourself is true, then I know over ten of the things you can't live without and I know you suck at using a lasso...

"So uh, sorry."

Pedro coughs, "Sorry?"

You jerk your chin in an awkward nod. "Yeah. Sorry. For being a creepy fangirl. You probably already knew but..."

"Hey -" Pedro sets a hand on your shoulder spinning you around to face him. He towers over you and therefore has to duck his head lower to meet your downcast gaze. " - you just said you liked me, so why would I be anything other than flattered?"

"Flattered?" You exclaim. "But I - but I basically pretend I'm your best friend and know way too much about you and I've only just met you?"

"So?" Pedro counters, smiling widely. Oh the things that smile does to you. "The way I see it, most of my female fans would've tried to take me to bed by now if they'd won the contest."

"Oh gosh!" You stick out your tongue and gag, "I would never do that."

Sure, you love Pedro, but to try and seduce him within an hour of meeting him? Before you've actually spoken for longer than five minutes?

Gross.

Pedro seems to agree. He laughs at your obvious disgust and gives your shoulder an affirming pat. "See? I knew you were one of the good ones."

"Th-thanks," You stammer.

There's no way you'll ever forget this. Pedro Pascal calling you a 'good?' In that soft, sincere tone that melts your heart and paralyzes your brain? His voice plays in your head, tickling your pride as you stare up into his eyes.

Is this really real?

"So, what do you say we go down town? We've got the whole day to kill and since you're lucky enough to have me -" Pedro knocks back the last of his coffee and then throws his arms out wide, grinning ear to ear. " - let's get to know each other!"

"Let's," You agree.

"So," Pedro drapes an arm around your shoulder and guides you back the way you came. Back towards the shops and out of the park. "You know this town, where should we go first?"

You'd have thought it'd be hard to process while squishes against Pedro's side, tucked under his arm, but you've never felt better!

Maybe you can actually be normal with Pedro.

Maybe you'll become real friends. He could end up liking you as much as you like him...right?

He's called you beautiful...

He's differentiated you from his other fangirls...

So why not?

"How do you feel about a bookstore?"

It's safe to say Pedro loved the bookstore, and the bakery and the trinket shop your childhood friend runs. The two of you stop by almost every store in town before your stomachs are roaring for lunch. Pedro asks you where the best food is and you end up at a (y/f/f) restaurant. All the while, you shoot each other questions, relay stories, and laugh. Most of what you discuss ends in fits of laughter. The stomach cramping, face burning, throat tickling kind that hangs in the air hours after it's finished and comes back the next day just when you think you've forgotten. But there's no way you could forget. Pedro is too funny to not laugh at! He says the wittiest, silliest things that have you rolling on the floor. He nearly made you fall into a display shelf in one of the downtown shops after doing a jaw droppin impression of Dobby the House Elf.

After lunch, you drive back to your house and sit down to watch a movie.

You settle on Star Wars: A New Hope for nostalgia's sake.

The day flies by in a blur and you almost forget Pedro's gonna be long gone by the time you go to bed.

It hits you in the middle of dinner, at a dance club a few miles out of town. You dressed up a little back at your house and Pedro ran out to go put on something nicer. He picked you up and now here you are, picking at your plate and trying not to cry.

You don't want this day to end!

Who knew you could win for 24 hours and lose once they're done?

"Hey? (Y/N)?"

"Hm?" You startle, flicking a piece of food off your fork and onto the table by accident. You hurriedly scoop it up and drop it back on the plate. "Yeah, yeah sorry I was daydreaming -"

"Are you ok?"

You put on a painfully fake smile. "Me? I'm great!"

Pedro grimaces and reaches across the table to cover your hand with his own. His skin heats yours instantly. "(Y/N)...you don't have to lie to me."

"I -"

"Are you ok? Is it too loud? We can leave -"

"No! I'm just..." You drop your fork. It clatters on the tabletop and you cup your face in your hands, kneading at the tension between your brows. You sigh into your palms and whisper, "I don't want this day to end."

Pedro is silent.

The atmosphere is not.

People party hard in the background.

Classes clink, silverware gets dropped and chairs are dragged noisly against the floor. People laugh and talk in cheery tones, contrary to the lowly spirits you're sinking under.

The upbeat music that's tormenting you fades into a slow dance song.

Suddenly, a chair screeches, oddly close, and you feel something brush your shoulder. Out of curiosity, you peel your hands away from your eyes and look to your left.

Pedro stares down at you and offers out his hand. "Can I have this dance?"

You don't have the strength to answer. But actions speak louder than words, and you grab his hand immediately. A smile dances on Pedro's lips, lighting up his face better than the colorful searchlights of the club could've. Pedro gently draws you up out of your seat and onto the dance floor. Once among countless other dancing pairs, he pulls your around and sets both hands on your waist. You shift closer to him, hesitating to put your hands on his shoulders until Pedro places them there himself. His hands return to your waist and he presses against you, a subtle way of drawing your bodies closer.

The two of you sway, moving to the wave of the melody, hands holding fast to the other.

As the song progresses, you drop your head onto Pedro's shoulder.

Tears well in your eyes.

Don't make me go, you plead, please...

Tomorrow is going to hurt worse than a killer hangover. You're going to wake up alone as usual and you won't be hungry or thirsty or excited as you were earlier today. No. You'll be sad and empty. You might've won Pedro for today, but you got a taste of heaven and now you must live without it. It's like eating the forbidden fruit and misplacing it so only the aftertaste is there to satisfy your craving.

At least I had today...

Yes, at least today.

"Hey," Pedro whispers into your ear. "What's your number?"

Your heart falters. "What?"

"Your number...can I have it?"

You raise your head off of Pedro's shoulder and gape at him, unable to believe what he's just asked. "My...my number -"

"So I can call...and..." Pedro smiles softly. "So we can do this again."

"Yes!" You exclaim quietly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. "Yes, yes you totally can -"

"Good," Pedro chuckles. "I had fun."

You can't fight the supernova of a smile that explodes on your face. "Me too."

Without warning Pedro dips his head to yours, the skin of his forehead, cheeks, and nose touching yours as he presses a fast kiss to your lips. You gasp slightly but you don't pull back. If anything, you fall against him.

The kiss lasts a second.

Pedro withdraws, smiling victoriously.

You blush and hide your face in his shoulder again, heart bursting with happiness as you realize that today...

You're pretty much an all around winner.