#javierpinme fanfiction

[javierpinme]

Inn Over Your Head

Pairing: Contractor!Zach Wellison x f!reader

Word count: 10.3k (I know, I know. Yeesh. 👀)

Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18 years old, go away)

Warnings: mentioning of loss of parents, slooooowwww burn, oral (f receiving), masturbation (f), existential crisis?, unprotected sex (wrap it in real life but you know fiction), praise kink (are we surprised it’s me), idiots to lovers, use of vibrator, mild angst, brief mention of reader wanting kids, sickeningly sweet fluff (I think this is it but if you see anything let me know)

Summary: “I have all these empty rooms and I’m not a terrible cook so I was thinking w-what if you…stayed here? We wouldn’t even have to see each other unless working on renovations. Not that I don’t like seeing you, but if privacy is an issue.” Jesus christ. You stammer your way to the end of your proposition and avoid staring at his face in fear of rejection. There is a pause and you try to retract what you said before you get interrupted by him gently saying your name.

A/N: I never intended to make this one shot wonder so long, but here we are. And look, before anyone says anything I am very well aware that I said that I was going to cut down which believe me I did. I really did, but I also added more so it kind of balances out. This is my first smut piece, so yeah. That’s it. This is about as self-indulgent as it gets. In my brain contractor is the job I imagine him having post his job in B&S. 🤷🏻‍♀️

AO3

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***

“No, no, no. Ugh!” 

In your haste to move your kettle on the counter and boil some water for tea you accidentally knock one of the screws you had unattached from the vintage sink into the garbage disposal. All you wanted to do was see what kind of screws it would need since the screws that it currently had were a little eroded. You thought you were being proactive since you knew next to nothing about owning an inn. Closing your eyes you take a deep breath and grip the counter trying to ground yourself. You can do this, right?

You were recently single after a long-term relationship that went south. The two of you wanted different things, but it wasn’t until recently when that all came to a head. You’ve always wanted to get married, have a couple kids, and you were vocal about that. You had thought your boyfriend was on the same page as you, but when the topic of marriage came up he told you that he wasn’t on the “same level” as you which absolutely broke you because of how long you were together.

Which brings you to where you are at the current moment. You adored inns as a child; they always held some of your best memories with your parents before they passed. Every summer as a little girl you would travel to different states and you loved the historic feel that seemed to encompass within them. Whether it was the aroma of fresh pastries wafting in the air traveling to your bedroom in the morning or the fact that there were several generations before you that sat on the very same furniture as you. You felt a little lost and wished you had your parents with you to help you navigate this change in your life, but they never would be and that brought you down even more.

“Well, hardware store it is then.” One last glare at your kettle like it betrayed you and you walk out the door with the faucet in hand.

“How many different screws can one sink have?” You exasperated to no one other than your own ears.

You dig through all types of screws and none of them are fitting correctly causing your annoyance to increase. In the midst of you rolling your eyes at the situation you spot a figure in the front of the store greeting the cashier and fail to remember why you were irritated in the first place. The first feature that comes to your attention is how tall he is and the warmth of his smile when he passes by the employees. Your feet think before your brain does and move of their own accord silently following him through the aisles you definitely didn’t deem necessary to be in on any other day. You start picking up supplies only to put them back down to make yourself look less obvious about your ogling.

You can only see him from behind, but even with being covered by the navy and burnt orange plaid flannel he’s wearing you can tell his shoulders are broad. He rolls up his sleeves while grabbing what he needs and you almost moaned at the sight of the veins on his forearms. His hands are calloused as far as you can tell which means he probably does physical labor. You’ve always loved a man that can work with his hands.

An employee walks up to you asking if you needed any assistance which you politely declined and by the time she comes out of view the target of your attention is also nowhere to be found. You sigh in disappointment and make your way back to the aisle you actually needed something from. Your hands mindlessly grab the first box of screws you can find on the shelf while fantasizing about the size of his hands on how they would feel around your—

You gasp at the intrusion of your beginning to be very filthy thoughts when the subject of that fantasy comes into view from the opposite aisle and smiles at you. You blink subtly shaking your head and thank whoever is up above that there is no such thing as mind readers. The close distance between you even with the separation of shelves permits you to appreciate his prominently curved nose, his ebony eyes, and the dimples that seem to display even deeper as his smile grows when you are silent following his introduction. A chuckle breaks you out of your daydream and you ask him to repeat what he said. Your brain filters back in when he tells you his name is Zach and you return it with yours.

“Working on a home project?” He nods to the box that is sitting in your hand that you conveniently forgot about.

“U-Uh, yeah. I dropped one of the screws that at one point was attached to this faucet in my garbage disposal when trying to make tea so I’m buying replacements for it.” You stutter out holding the faucet in the air when he disappears from your peripheral leaving you confused at the interaction.

The sound of boots filter in and become louder prompting you to turn around and almost knocks the wind out of you when you realize how close he’s standing in front of you; the scent of bergamot and sandalwood overwhelming your senses. God, is this how he always smells?

“Well, let's see what we got here.” He grabs the faucet out of your hand inspecting the hole in it and eyes the box of screws in your hand while yours are focusing on how much bigger his hand is in comparison to what he’s holding. “First of all, these are completely the wrong screws for this. This is vintage. They don’t make these anymore. You’re not going to find those here.” He chuckles out which you misinterpret for teasing when you’re already a little sensitive from the events of the day.

“You know what? I think I’m capable enough that I don’t need a self-righteous know-it-all to tell me what to do.” You huff out in frustration at his picking of your unknown insecurity.

“Just tryin’ to help you out. That’s all, sweetheart. Didn’t mean any disrespect.” Zach raises his eyebrows and lifts his hands up in surrender.

“Thanks for your help, but I’m good from here.” You emphasize none too delicately pulling the faucet out of his hand and walking out the store in embarrassment empty handed.

***

“I have no idea what I’m doing, Kit. I mean I'm way in over my head with thinking that I could even do this with no experience. I can’t even pick the right fucking screws. Something so simple. My parents would be so proud.” You release a self deprecating chuckle and bury your head into your hands ignorant of the fact that there are other tables of customers trying to enjoy their meal. You feel the warmth of your friend’s fingers wrapping around your wrists to bring them back to the table.

“Hey, you’re doing a brave thing and your parents would be so proud of you for creating your own adventure on something you always enjoyed as a family. If I could help you know that I would in a heartbeat, but I might have someone to recommend. He is an absolute sweetheart. He dropped everything to help when my pipes burst. He’s a former marine and was spit out by the VA so he ended up homeless.” Your heart breaks for whoever it is at that moment, but you make a mental note not to meddle since it wasn’t your business.

“He’s not anymore but-speak of the devil. Zach!!” Kit calls out to wave him over and you momentarily freeze hoping it isn’t the same man that you snapped at at the store.

You slowly shift in your chair to face him and you feel heat cascading from your chest to your neck at the confirmation that it is indeed the same man. You spot that same warm smile pointed in your friend’s direction and you see the shift in it the moment he recognizes you, but he never breaks it which brings you an odd comfort. He was attractive in the fluorescent lighting of the store but even more so with the sun settling into night. Kit smiles at you unaware of the predicament you’re in and catches up with him while you’re trying to appear nonchalant about seeing him in front of you again. She introduces you and all you can do is squeak out a hello.

“The reason I called you over here is because she just purchased an inn and she has no idea what she’s doing. She is stressing about being in over her head and I know you have experience with doing that kind of thing so I figured I could hook you guys up.” You can’t stop the wince from forming on your face at the words your friend is repeating to the man that you were so hell bent on showing that you’re capable.

“Well, I wouldn't go that far.” You cover your embarrassment with a laugh, but it comes out unsteady.

“What do you mean? You said it yourself.” Kit narrows her eyes at your reply and repeats your words much to your chagrin.

“I thought you said that you were capable and didn’t need help from a self-righteous know-it-all. I believe those are the exact words you used.” Even with the repeating your stinging words it sounds like honey coming out of his lips. Your eyes meet his with what you now realize was teasing in a different sense than what you assumed it was in the store. Your defensive stance deflates and you can’t help the laugh that comes out. He’s poking fun at you and you start to feel a little ridiculous for your outburst.

“I….deserve that.”

Zach’s smile grows even wider accentuating that dimple again and shrugs his shoulders in mock agreement. Something about you made him want to help you and he’s trying to convince himself that it has nothing to do with how beautiful you are.

“I’ll help you. Here’s my number. Text me the address. We can do a walkthrough and make a list of anything that takes priority.” Zach grabs one of the napkins on the table and pulls a pen out of the pocket of his plaid flannel to write it down. The fragrance of bergamot and sandalwood tickling your nose again and making you yearn to know how that smell would mix with the perspiration of certain activities. An awareness hits you at the last second that has you ungracefully call out his name.

“Wait! I won’t be able to pay you.” Your voice starts wavering as you’re nearing the end of your sentence. I put everything into this.

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not expecting to get paid. Text me.” He motions to his phone and walks off. You turn around to face Kit again and she has a shit-eating grin on her face with her arms crossed in amusement.

“What was that?” She raises her eyebrows at you and you finally manage to maintain a straight face now that the physical manifestation of your awkwardness has left. “What was what?” You drink your tea to hide the obvious smile you hid behind your mug.

“Uh, that. You had a moment.” Kit points between you and the empty space where a cute brunette had resided a minute ago. You shrug your shoulders and feign innocence which makes her even more suspicious than she was before. “Okay, it was nothing. You’re paying then.” You roll your eyes and release a quiet sigh in relief at the drop of that subject.

***

You pace back and forth over analyzing a text message you had prewritten the night before to send this morning. “Personal or impersonal?” The arm holding your cellphone goes to your side and you laugh at your overthinking of such a simple task. 

So you just crank out a quick message of your address and begrudgingly tap a smiley emoji putting your phone down on the coffee table before you regret it. The ding of an incoming message goes off in the otherwise silent living room if you count the rhythmic pounding in your chest at the anticipation of his answer as silence. You try not to think about the speed at which you walked from the other side of the room to see what he said. Sounds good! I’ll drop by later today and take a look at what we’ve got ahead of us. Saving you from the total embarrassment of being overeager he also included a smiley emoji at the end of his sentence making you slightly more relaxed.

***

Consciously you know that this is not a date, but that doesn’t stop your illogical brain from changing your outfit three times in the last half hour. He’s just here for a tour of the inn and you’re working together now, kind of. This is the first male interaction you’ve had since your breakup and your heart feels like it's in hyperdrive at that. You wring your hands together waiting near the front entrance for his arrival. A knock raps against the door and you take a deep steady breath before opening it to a to-go cup of coffee with that same cute brunette attached to it.

He greets you with a soft smile and a good morning. “That was fast. Were you near the door?” He hands you the coffee and you try to hide your mortification that he noticed.

“No, I was moving some stuff around when you knocked. Thank you. I love that café. They have the best coffee in town.” You open the door wider to allow him to walk inside.

Zach clears his throat and walks inside carrying a clipboard in the opposite hand; the sound of his workman’s boots on the creaking floorboards. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t sure if you liked it since tea seems to be your preference.” You swallow a gasp at him noticing what drink you had during your second meeting. He clicks the pen he had in his pocket and immediately goes into business mode writing out future renovation projects throughout each room.

You both squeeze into the powder room and you mention that you want to replace the toilet. “I don’t want to open up with that one. I want a new one.”

“Why? It’s clearly functioning. I thought you liked historic things.” He grumbles proving his point by flushing it and raising his eyebrows in your direction.

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms bringing his attention to your chest. “Yes...I do. I’m just not comfortable with the hundreds of years of shits that took place in it. We’re getting a new one. Add it to the list.” You walk out of the tight space in defiance and effectively end the debate. You might have imagined the huff he released and you definitely missed him calling you stubborn. You walk through all the rooms within the inn skipping your bedroom since that wasn’t on your list of priorities before guests rooms and you weren’t sure if you could handle the visual of Zach standing in your bedroom with you.

You walk downstairs in silence and make your way back to the front entrance. “Well, we have a shit ton of work cut out for us. It’s not going to be easy, but I might be able to shave some additional costs where we can.” 

He must see a flash of irritation in your eyes and brings his palm up in defense. “Woah--hey. That’s why I’m here. To help you get through this. Together.” The last word a plea to understand he means no harm in his words.

A warmth fills your chest at the last word. Together. You tamp down that feeling as soon as it appears. You nod, shooting an apologetic smile his way before focusing on a scratch on the floor. “On the topic of money since as you know I can’t pay you I was thinking of some alternatives.” Your eyes finally meet his to see him shaking his head telling you it wasn’t necessary, but you insist on letting you finish your words.

“I have all these empty rooms and I’m not a terrible cook so I was thinking w-what if you...stayed here? We wouldn’t even have to see each other unless working on renovations. Not that I don’t like seeing you, but if privacy is an issue.” Jesus christ. You stammer your way to the end of your proposition and avoid staring at his face in fear of rejection. There is a pause and you try to retract what you said before you get interrupted by him gently saying your name.

“Yeah, okay. I’d have to go home and pack, but yeah.” Your heart flutters at the scene of that familiar dimple you’ve come to love directed at you.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at 7 then?” Your voice picks up volume now that he’s given you his answer. You open the door to let him leave and he turns around saluting you with a grin. You could get used to that.

***

Like clockwork, Zach arrives at 7AM on the dot which you tease him for while helping him bring in his belongings.

"Punctuality is a virtue, sweetheart." 

You remember Kit mentioning he was a former marine, but you keep that information to yourself while directing him to the bedroom he will be sleeping in. You inform him that breakfast is just about ready and leave him to familiarize himself with his new surroundings alone.

Zach appears from the opening of the kitchen while you’re plating the french toast slices with berries. He pours the two of you mugs of coffee and you sit on the stools at the island to dig into your breakfast. At first bite your eyes widen and feel a heat rising to your cheeks at the filthiest groan Zach releases. "Damn, if this is what I get everytime you cook I will be very satisfied." Me too.

***

The both of you start to really pick up a rhythm and tackle your projects room by room. There are even some days he beats you in waking up in the morning, but his idea of a hearty breakfast is toast. You forgive that when he gives you the largest mug you own of coffee to soften the blow of his lackluster cooking skills. 

This morning you’re going to be working on the faucet that continuously haunts you and you change into a worn white t-shirt with leggings in case you’re doing any dirty work at any point in the day. It’s been spraying water erratically since yesterday when you tried to make chamomile tea for you both before going to bed.

“Alright, let's see what we got here.” Zach tinkers with the aerator and it immediately starts spitting out water at him. In the midst of his struggle to turn the faucet off he isn’t fast enough because when he eventually turns it off he is absolutely drenched. There is a silence in the room other than the sound of droplets hitting the floor before you break out in laughter at the sight before you.

“Zach, you look like a wet rat.” You put your hands on your knees and lean in a folded position losing your composure. Your stomach starts cramping and you wipe the tears in your eyes basking in the moment.

He huffs in annoyance and you hear him trying to shake off the excess water on his clothes. “You done?” You’re not even remotely done, but his tone makes you act otherwise.

“Yeah, I’m-ZACH!!” He turns the sink back on and grabs you by the waist to bring you in front of the stream in sweet revenge. You don’t even have time to react before you end up in the same state he’s in drenched to the bone. He finally turns the faucet off and you force yourself out of his arms to slap him repeatedly. 

"Now who's the wet rat?" He grabs a piece of your hair and moves it behind your ear. That tentative touch alone could have made you melt right there and then.

The boyish laugh he lets out has you beam with delight and you take a moment to admire each other before his smile falls. You furrow your brows and follow his line of sight; your first instinct should be to cover your chest but you swear you’re not imagining the swirl of lust filling his eyes. Wearing mesh undergarments today probably wasn’t your most brilliant idea. 

Your breath hitches when you follow where his eyes travel. Your lips, to your neck, and slowly returning his gaze back to your chest causing a heat to pool between your legs. Out of the corner of your eye Zach’s hand that was flat on the counter twitches as if he’s fighting the urge to touch you and he takes a step closer before stepping back to this original spot to your dismay. He shoots his face away from you; cheeks tinted red before clearing his throat and huskily speaks.

“You can go ahead and get changed. I’ll still be here fighting with it.”

You nod your head and sigh in disappointment at the broken moment before making your way back upstairs to change. You can’t figure out why he hesitated when it was clear to both of you what you wanted. You throw on a dry shirt and walk back to the kitchen hoping the awkwardness has faded.

Zach is still in the same spot messing with the faucet, but has the water shut off to avoid any more accidents. 

“We should just buy a new faucet, Zach. It’s hopeless.”

He shoots you a glare startling you when he breaks his reserved nature. “No. It’s part of the history and just because something is broken doesn’t mean they’re disposable. They deserve a second chance.”

You sense a shift in the atmosphere and you know he isn’t talking only about the faucet anymore. You slowly nod while picking at a chip on the counter and your mouth speaks before your brain has time to filter it.

“Like from when you were home-” You shut yourself up as soon as you started. You freeze hoping that he didn’t hear you, but the pause in him working on the faucet confirms that he did.

“How...how do you know about that?” His tone is as quiet as you’ve ever heard it and it breaks your heart even more to know that you’re the cause of it.

Your sharp inhale fills the room and you save yourself some time to come up with an explanation by pushing the flakes into the sink from your frantic picking. Regardless of planning out your words your voice still quivers when you speak.

“Someone told me. I’m so sorry, Zach. I was never going to mention it, but-” You never get to finish your apology when you hear the padding of his bare feet on the tile leaving the room. You turn the knob to the sink—looks like it’s fixed but you royally fucked up.

He avoids you the rest of the day by working on projects on the opposite side of the inn. There's no explosive argument. No demanding an apology for invading his privacy. You would have preferred that over the silent treatment. You deserved that. It only seems fitting to your situation when the cracking of thunder roars outside like the universe has been wronged and its demanding vengeance. I know.

***

You’re cleaning the living room area wallowing in your self pity when the flickering of the lamp catches your eye. Before you can even process the thought you can’t see anything other than the lightning in the distance through the window. Figures. The power must have gone out.

Your line of vision follows the stomping from the floor above you and a deep exhale can be heard from the man that has been avoiding you all day.

“You alright?” You can’t see him through the pitch blackness, but you know if the creaking of the staircase is any consolation he’s on his way down to you.

You blindly feel your way around to the dining room table where the candles you purchased earlier in the day to give Zach some space are located. “Yeah, I’m just going to go grab some candles.” You know he can’t see you, but you hear a grunt in approval. 

You start walking back into the living area extending your arm in the air to avoid ramming into something before you feel a hand gently grab your forearm to direct you back to him. The coffee table screeches from being shoved away and his hand smooths down to your own to pull you to the floor. His hand is so warm around yours prompting your heart to lose its stable rhythm. He lets go way too soon and you fight to shove down the whine that was crawling its way up your throat in protest. The flick of a lighter goes off illuminating the room in a soft orange glow while Zach finishes lighting the other candles. If it wasn’t so awkward it would actually be pretty romantic.

You wonder what would have happened if you had never opened your mouth; so critical of yourself over your word vomit that you don’t hear Zach saying your name. Your attention is brought back to the man in front of you and the dam breaks spilling apology after apology. His hand hovers in front of you and asks if you could politely shut up.

You shift yourself backwards to lean your back against the front of the couch and he mirrors the position next to you taking a deep breath before he speaks. “I was homeless. I was in the marines.” He lifts up the sleeve of his shirt to show you the tattoo on his right arm. 

“When I got back I couldn’t adjust to civilian life. I got diagnosed with PTSD and the VA helped for a little bit until they didn’t. It would have been easier if I had a drug problem, but I had a place to sleep problem which is how I ended up sleeping in a park.” Your heart shatters at the visual and you intertwine your fingers with his rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles in comfort.

“I mean I had to sleep with a pipe at all times because you just never knew when the next threat was going to be. I was scared. Scared of being jumped and scared of when my next meal was going to be. I’m not mad at you for bringing it up. I just...for once wanted to be someone other than that homeless guy. I didn’t want you to think of me like that.” A humorless laugh falls out of his mouth and you scooch closer until your thighs touch, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Zach, I would never think of you like that. I can’t even begin to imagine how scared you were. You really want to know how I see you? I see a kind hearted man that makes everyone he talks to smile. I see a man who dropped everything to help a friend with a problem and not to mention a complete stranger who definitely didn’t deserve it after certain rude comments. I see someone really brave and despite the circumstances you overcame it. That’s what I see.” You feel his head move to lay on the crown of your head and with the exhale he releases so does the tension from earlier.

You’re not sure when you closed your eyes or how long but it isn’t until Zach breaks the tranquility of the moment that you open them. “What about you? What’s your story with the inn? Since we’ve established you don’t know what you’re doing.” He flinches in pain when you pinch his side at the remark, but neither of you can stop the smile directed at the other.

“Well. The cliché story is that I’m recently single after being in a relationship for years. I thought we were both on the same page as far as marriage and kids goes, but he either changed his mind or appeased me to get me to shut up about it.” You sigh and the tear in the rug becomes really interesting until you feel Zach squeeze your hand encouraging you to continue.

This memory does actually make you smile unlike the other one. “When I was a little girl I traveled with my parents all over the country, always staying in inns. I mean, really old historic ones like this one. When my parents died I was devastated and I guess I felt like I was holding onto a piece of their memory when I bought this place. That I wasn’t completely alone because I had this.” Zach’s lips press into your head and you melt at the significance of the gesture.

“There’s this one memory I have of being in Cape May with them. I never forgot it because we stayed in what was called the “lavender room” and it was as you can probably figure out all shades of purple. Well, in this particular inn they had a clawfoot tub in the bathroom and I begged my parents to let me use it. I couldn’t get over the fact that I could use the lavender scented bubble bath in the lavender room. They wouldn’t let me and I was devastated so every trip afterwards they would bring lavender body wash to appease me when I would ask. Purple walls or not. I was a brat as a kid.”

“You got a thing for tubs?” You hear more than see the grin on Zach’s face and you hum in confirmation.

“When I bought this place and saw there was an attached bathroom to one of the rooms I was ecstatic because in the picture it had this beautiful vintage clawfoot tub. It felt like everything fit into place and then when I walked in I could see where there used to be a tub but it was an empty space so you can only imagine my disappointment.” You laugh at the memory of your mini temper tantrum at that realization.

“Sorry.” Zach rests his cheek against your temple and you bury your head into the crook of his neck.

“There are worse things. Maybe someday I’ll fulfill that dream, but it just isn’t high on our priority list right now with everything we need to get done.”

“Hm.” You bring your head up to ask him what he meant by that not realizing how close he was to you. He meets you halfway slotting his nose against yours and you stop breathing afraid that you’ll somehow break out of the trance you’re in. The silent question in his eyes asking if this was okay and you nod.

Your gaze follows his tongue peeking out to lick his lips and you raise your head to surge forward until you’re blinded by the lights turning back on. Zach’s forehead presses against your own and you grin at the devastation taking over his features even with his eyes closed. He opens his eyes and the boyish grin returns on his face at the comedic timing of it all.

“Come on.”

You blow out the candles now that you don’t need them. He grabs your hand lifting you up off the ground and presses that hand on your lower back to move you towards the stairs. There’s a comfortable stillness that you don’t feel it’s necessary to fill it in with conversation. You walk to your respective bedrooms wishing each other a goodnight before closing your door.

***

Sleep is not coming easily to you, too frustrated at the recollection of events of the day. You can’t help but laugh at the cruel joke the universe seems to be playing on you while staring at the ceiling. All the interruptions it seems to be inciting on you just when it seems like that cord of sexual tension will finally snap, the push and pull between you finally coming to a head. The only sounds heard in the room are the crickets outside now that the storm has died down and the rapidly growing thumping of your heart and core. Your brain replaying and rewriting that moment with Zach in the kitchen. What if he hadn’t stopped when he had? What if he had succumbed to the obvious desire you reflected back?

There is a moment of hesitation between you; a question before you surge forward at the same time in a bruising kiss. Zach’s tongue begs for entrance and you grant it lightly sucking his bottom lip between yours. A groan similar to that morning while eating breakfast comes out of his mouth before he presses you against the counter and the evidence of his arousal on your hip. His one hand is playing with the bottom hem of your shirt while the other wraps around your lower back; not quite reaching where he wants but respecting boundaries until he requests permission.

“Is this okay?”

Your eyes flicker between his eyes and lips; you grab his hand slowly, never breaking eye contact to move his hand under your shirt until he reaches your breast—“Yes.” He curses rolling his hips into yours squeezing your clothed breast not able to hide the grin at your responsive moan. You impatiently remove your shirt and bra baring yourself under his stare.

“Fuck, these beautiful tits. These beautiful fucking tits.” He returns his hand to your breast using his index and middle finger to pinch and pull at your nipples alternating between the two. His hips grind into yours hitting your clit just right and you’re powerless to fight the whimper crawling up your throat.

The sound of a drawer opening and frantic rustling breaks the silence in the room before you find what you’re looking for. Your soaked pussy begging for attention and you’re hopeless to ignore the ache. All you can hope is Zach is either asleep or too far away to hear the vibrating circles focusing on your clit.

Your fingers run through and pull his hair at his ministrations, his hands smoothing down your back, kneading your ass until he lifts you onto the counter. He grasps the back of your knees to spread you further allowing him space to admire the view of your breasts, smoothing his fingers up and down your thighs. You cup his cheeks and pull him back to your lips, your tongues fighting for dominance and dancing melodically all at once. 

A soft gasp breaks it when you feel Zach’s thumb circling your clit through your thin leggings creating a perfect friction. You could come on this alone until his hand moves to your waistband slipping into your panties to return to your clit rubbing those soft circles.

His middle and index finger trace down your folds to your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet. I want you to come for me sweetheart. I want to hear-”

You bite the back of your hand just in time to muffle the moan you let out when you come hard, maintaining feather-like strokes to prolong your high. Your heart beating erratically until you slowly come down evening out your breaths. You open your eyes to blindly find your way to the attached bathroom to clean up and crawl back into bed. Even after relief, sleep still doesn’t come easy.

***

A groan escapes you followed by a yawn while you’re making coffee the next morning. After taking care of your needs last night you only managed to sleep for a few hours before the sun was rising.

“Good morning.”

Zach lazily walks into the kitchen and you fight the giggle at the state of his sleep mussed hair. You yearn to run your fingers through it and your fantasy from last night comes roaring to the surface causing a heat to rise in your cheeks.

You clear your throat and hope he doesn’t notice your internal dilemma. “Do you want breakfast?”

He walks behind you to open the cupboard, pulling two mugs out to fill them up, shaking his head at your question. “Can’t. There’s an estate sale going on today and I thought I might see what they have to bring back here. Now that the groundwork has been laid as far as renovations we’re just about at the point where we can consider a grand opening date.”

Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of an opening date. On the one hand you’re excited because this is what you’ve wanted but on the other hand that puts a deadline on your time with Zach. You must take too long to answer because his hand rubs your shoulder blade and he’s asking if you’re okay.

You get yourself together nodding your head while turning to face him. “Okay. I guess I’ll work outside and get the garden to something you can actually stand to look at.” You hope the lighthearted tone covers the distress on your face and it seems to because he’s already on his way out the door. You had gotten used to this little domestic bubble the two of you lived in, but it wasn’t real.

***

You’ve been working tirelessly all day picking at weeds and turning soil to get prepared for planting. Zach still hasn’t returned from the estate sale so you use this time to go to the plant store for supplies. Your mind wanders to Zach while shopping. Regardless of the fact he is helping you there was never agreement of what would happen afterwards. Logically speaking you would go your separate ways, but that thought made your stomach turn.

You couldn’t deny that you’ve grown feelings for him and the close quarters certainly haven’t aided in your denial since he is there everyday. Those lingering looks and unnecessary touches when passing coffee or tea to each other often made you wonder if he feels the same. That moment you shared in the kitchen has you thinking he does unless it was just the heat of the moment. You were practically almost half naked in front of him and that puts you down a spiral of self doubt of his possible feelings for you.

You’re carrying your bags of supplies opening the front door and pause when you hear loud grunting from multiple men. You kick the door closed and you’re about to panic until you hear Zach’s voice echoing which brings you at ease. “Uh, Zach? Everything okay?”

A curse shoots out and you’re about to walk over to the stairs before you hear Zach protest. “Y-Yeah, we’re good. Just go outside and finish up gardening. We got this.” At his reassurance you start planting some of the flowers you got at the store until dark.

***

You’re sweating like a pig by the time you’re finished and just want to relax when you hear Zach opening the door calling your name. “Wow. This looks amazing. You did a great job out here.” He’s sporting a proud smile on his face and you can’t help but mirror it.

“Thanks.”

He grabs your hand to help you up off the grass while you brush off the dirt from your leggings. “Come on. I have a surprise for you.”

His hand hovers on your lower back directing you to the stairs and tells you to close your eyes. “Surprise? You really expect me to go up these steps without seeing where I’m going?”

He takes a minute to think that through and ultimately grabs your arm to help you up the steps. You want to trace your steps to figure out where you’re going, but you don’t want to ruin whatever has him so excited so you choose to instead ignore it.

The first thing that hits you is the scent of lavender overwhelming your nose and the humidity in the air. Zach permits you to open your eyes and your knees almost buckle at the sight before you in your bathroom. There’s candles strewn about on all the open surfaces and tears blur your vision at what sits in the corner in what used to be an empty space. A clawfoot bathtub.

A throat being cleared brings you back to the present and you don’t think before you crash into him with a crushing hug. “Zach…”

Zach returns your hug bringing one of his hands to rest on the back of your head stroking your hair. “I was at that estate sale and saw it. It was pretty beaten up, but we gave it a fresh paint job to match your bathroom. I-I hope you like the color. It’s no lavender, but it wouldn’t have gone with the color scheme in here.”

Zach reluctantly lets you go and rubs the back of his neck nervously when you’re not having any kind of reaction. You’re too speechless to find the words to describe how cared for you feel right now. How much he cares for you. “Thank you.”

You see how the tension in his shoulders deflates at the confirmation that he did the right thing. “Of course. You work so hard. You deserve to relax.” He tells you to get into the bath before the water gets cold and walks out.

You release a contented sigh and dip deeper into the warmth of the scented bubbles; thinking about that cute brunette waltzing into your life when you desperately needed it. You think back to your earlier self doubt, but this puts that to bed. As kind hearted as he is this wasn’t something you do for just anyone. Maybe, just maybe, he returns your feelings and you’re determined to find out. You must have been in the bath a long time in your thoughts because the water starts to cool, suddenly realizing you didn’t have a change of clothes other than what you wore before you got in. You don’t want to put your clothes back on so you have no choice—

“Zach? Can you grab me some pajamas from my nightstand? I forgot them before I got in.”

“You got it!” Zach bypasses the bathroom and walks into your bedroom shaking the picture perfect visual of you right now. The bubbles being the only thing standing between your soft skin, flushed cheeks from the steam, and—the zipper on his pants never felt so uncomfortable after opening the first drawer. Definitely not that one. Maybe someday. He desperately hopes you let him.

He clears his throat and adjusts his pants, opening the second one to grab a pair of pajamas for you, knocking on the bathroom door to let you know he has them.

“Thanks. You can bring them in.”

You hear the creak of the floorboards from him shifting his weight on the other side and then a pause. “But you’re...taking a bath. I can drop it off in front of the door.”

“The bubbles are covering me. It’s okay. You can bring them.” You find it endearing that he’s so nervous even with the wall separating you. You hear a deep exhale and the knob being turned, his head poking in while covering his eyes.

You can’t control the laugh at his expense. “I said you couldn’t see anything. That’s not necessary.”

Zach clears his throat and you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. You don’t need to see his eyes to know the cogs are turning in his head. “I’ll keep them closed.” I won’t be able to fight the urge to join you in that tub and everything that comes with it.

He feels around the bathroom to deposit them on the counter and speeds out of the bathroom.

You think you hear him mumbling under his breath but you can’t make out the words.

You go about your normal nightly routine and head downstairs to Zach making chamomile tea for you both, depositing the mugs on the coffee table in the living room. The two of you sit on the couch consciously scooting closer until your thighs touch, enjoying each other’s company in silence.

You put your mug back on the coffee table and Zach’s arm swings on the back of the couch behind you, not quite touching the back of your neck but close enough to make the hairs stand up anyway. “Thank you. No one’s ever done something like that for me.”

“Anytime. You deserve that, you know? You’ve been working so hard and I know it hasn’t been smooth sailing so you deserve a relaxing moment or two. You can put yourself first sometimes. And you know, you’re not going to be needing me pretty soon so take it while you can. The work is almost done.” Your heart drops at the implication and you decide it’s now or never. When did your mouth get so dry? 

“I-I’m always going to need you.”

Zach’s features soften at your words and you feel his fingers gently stroking your cheek, shifting to cup it. You subconsciously lick your lips bringing his attention to them and his thumb grazes your cheekbone.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You’re not even embarrassed at your quick answer. You think you’d say yes to anything he would ask you.

He brings your face close to him, his hot breath tickling your face, and pulls you in for a chaste kiss. He breaks the kiss leaning his forehead against yours and breathes you in. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

“It’s the bubble bath, Zach.”

“Yeah, but it’s also just you. You smelled good before you got in the bath.” You narrow your eyes playfully but if you weren’t already sitting down your knees would have given out.

“I was sweaty and dirty.” 

“It’s just the way you always smell.” You lean your elbow on the back of the couch, laying your cheek on your hand, and raise your eyebrows in false shock.

“I always smell like sweat?”

“What, no. That’s not what I mea-” He realizes you’re teasing him when he sees the smile you’re trying to hide behind your hand, forcing a laugh out of him. “You always bite back at everything I say.”

You close the distance between you with an inviting smile, a whisper away from his lips. “Yeah, but you like it.”

“I do. It’s what I like about you.” His thumb and index finger grasp your chin to pull you back in, but this one is not as chaste as the first kiss. He pulls your jaw down to open your mouth to him and licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue against yours. He releases a groan at your taste and oh—this one is so much better than what you heard in the kitchen. You use the opportunity to nip his bottom lip and he grabs your thighs to pull you into his lap; your hips straddling his until you feel his hardened bulge against your core.

You experimentally roll your hips and smile when he gasps, burying his head in the crook of your neck—his hips chasing yours. “That feel good?”

“Fuck, you know it does.”

You decide to spare him and stop your teasing to start unbuckling his belt, his lips trailing kisses on your neck before biting at your pulse point when you wrap your hand around his cock. He bucks his hips up to meet your slow strokes.

“We can’t do this here.” He whimpers when your thumb smooths over his slit to spread his pre-come and you kiss his ear, suckling his earlobe between your lips.

“Why not?”

He abruptly pulls your hand out of his pants and gently pushes you off of him. He is the perfect picture in front of you and you feel pride at the state you’ve brought him to—his chest heaving, lips swollen from your kissing, all the blood traveling to his cheeks. Well, almost. Your eyes zero in on what must be an obviously uncomfortable erection. 

“Because guests are going to sit here and I don’t think they would appreciate this as much as I am right now. Upstairs. Now.”

You somehow make it upstairs in one piece despite the fumbling of limbs and hungry kisses and your back slams against your bedroom door once you’ve made it to your destination. You lift your shirt up and throw it on the floor followed by the unclasping of your bra before that drops to the floor as well. He grabs your thighs lifting you up to carry you to the bed, his hips pressing into yours on the mattress, pressing one last lingering kiss before shifting off the bed to admire you laid out in front of him.

“You’re beautiful like this.” Even with desire crashing through your veins your heart still flutters at the sentiment, his warm hand wraps around your ankle and rubs up and down your calf.

His hand sets your nerves alight and you conjure up the sweetest smile you can muster. “Hm. Are you going to stare all night? Or-” You open the leg he doesn’t have a hold on and you know he can see the wetness through your shorts if the growl that comes out is anything to go by. 

“Or are you going to do something about this?”

He grips your ankle tighter pulling you towards the edge of the bed and the visual of him kneeling down is a sight you will never forget. His hands grip the waistband of your shorts and slowly pull them down—his eyes meeting yours in a hungry gaze once he throws them over his shoulder.

“No panties?”

You think he’s going to go straight to where you weep for him but he smiles leaning back up to give you a soft kiss on the lips—then another one and shifts back off the bed to his original position. Even in your collective lust he still manages to make your heart skip a beat at his softness.

He grabs your leg and places it over his shoulder peppering kisses up your inner thighs to where you desperately need him. Your eyelashes flutter when he places open mouthed kisses sucking what will surely be bruises you’ll wear with honor tomorrow.

He spreads your folds to reveal your clit and the first kitten lick has your back arching off the bed, the pleasure shooting through your core when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. A raspy moan you didn’t even know you were capable of comes out and you grasp his hair pulling while your other hand grips the sheets under you to try to keep yourself grounded—needing something to hold onto or you’d float away. Not yet, not when it feels this good.

Your head shoots up of its own accord when you feel Zach’s finger circling your entrance, his eyes a question if he can continue. You nod and your head falls back down on the pillow; whimpers falling out of your mouth at the feeling of his finger finally pushing into your entrance before adding a second finger. 

You can hear the squelching from how wet you are when he pumps his fingers—in and out slightly picking up speed until he curls his fingers rubbing against that spongy spot of your pussy before pausing his ministrations. You look back down at him in frustration to him sporting a half smirk against your inner thigh.

“That feel good?”

"Shit. You..." You have half a mind to push his head back home for repeating your earlier words back to you, but you wait to be rewarded for your patience.

"You know it d-” Your words are cut off when he pulls your clit back between his lips relentlessly curling his fingers back against your walls. His teeth graze against your clit lightly and the tension in your core snaps, your walls clenching tight around his fingers. You hear a moan from below and he laps up everything you give him until you push his head away when it becomes too much.

You slowly come back down from your high and your fingers curl around the strands of his hair that had fallen over his forehead basking in your post-orgasmic bliss. Zach kisses from your navel back to your lips, pushing his tongue into your open mouth so you can taste yourself. 

“We need to take these off.” You chuckle and play with the hem of his shirt until he raises his arms up so you can lift it up, his golden hued abdomen revealing itself to you and you hear the rustling of his pajama pants and boxers being pulled down his legs to join his shirt on the floor.

You cup his cheeks and roll your hips. He gasps when his erect cock slots between your folds and he peppers kisses on your collarbone. You bring his head back to face yours, kissing his cheeks and lightly stroke his cheekbone. “You’re beautiful.”

His eyes become glassy and he attempts to shift his face to the side to break eye contact but your grip remains firm. “Even the parts you don’t like. Beautiful.”

He crashes his lips against yours pouring all his emotions into it—all the unsaid love he can give and just hope you understand. You trace your fingers starting from his brows making your way up, your nails scratching his scalp, and a release of air comes from his nose before going boneless against you—the weight of him a comfort that he’s here with you before he’s leaning up on his forearm to notch himself at your entrance. “Are you sure?”

You dig your nails into his shoulder blades and lock your ankles over his ass to push him inside. “What do you think? Yes.”

“Just checking.” That boyish grin returns to his face and only then does he slowly inch his cock into your entrance and the sheet next to your head creases from Zach gripping it in restraint—fighting the urge to push himself home all at once. God, he’s big. He rolls his hips until he’s to the hilt and you feel his pubic hair meet your pelvis. You experimentally clench around his cock and smile at the curse that he shoots out at the feeling of you.

“Fuck. Don’t. It’ll be over before it starts if you keep that up, sweetheart.” He doesn’t move—savoring the feeling of being inside of you that wasn’t in the form of his imagination.

You mouth at his ear, nipping his earlobe lightly and whisper. “Move.”

He looks down at you with a smirk calling you impatient. “Oh, shut-” You’re interrupted by your own moan when he picks up his thrusts.

“Shit, you’re so wet—so hot around me. Can you hear how your perfect pussy takes me?” He punctuates his words with hard thrusts and you’re not even embarrassed about the squelching sounds in the room your arousal leaking down to the crack of your ass. He grabs the back of your knees and pushes them towards your chest—his thrusts going even deeper than before.

“Fuck, you feel so good—so fucking good.”

You feel the softness of his hair moving down to your chest and you let out a moan when you feel his hot mouth wrap around one of your nipples, his tongue flicking around it making you arch your back in response. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your sternum before switching to your other breast but not without pinching the nipple that stands at attention for him.

You feel the tightening in your core build higher and higher but not enough to throw you over the edge. Zach must sense it because you watch him grab the back of your knees and lift your legs over his shoulders—the weight of his body leaning against the back of your thighs so he can lick his thumb—a whimper releasing from you at the lewd display of his tongue before he brings it down to your clit rubbing circles. You buck your hips to meet his thrusts as best you can with your position and your pussy clenches around him when your orgasm surges through you making you sob out his name.

“Shit. So tight. So fucking perfect for me.” His hips stutter as he tries to reach his release until you feel hot ropes of come paint the inside of your walls, his hips turning into a slow grind to ride out his high. He presses his face into the crook of your neck and his lips press light kisses on your throat. “That was-”

“Yeah.” You don’t even hide the satisfied smile that is surely taking up your whole face. You almost whine at the emptiness when Zach pulls out and lays next to you, your collective pants filling the room. You felt too sated to move so you close your eyes and listen to your slowing heartbeat.

You feel the sheets moving from under you as Zach shifts his weight. “You got one more in you?” 

“Hmm?” It takes you a few seconds to catch onto what he said, your eyes still closed when you hear your nightstand drawer open and rustling, followed by a gentle buzzing sounding in the room. He makes you come two more times after that with his fingers and the vibrator all while whispering praise into your ear of how good you feel and he’ll never get enough of how you feel when you clench around his cock. How he never wants to stop.

***

The sun delicately making itself known through the curtains wakes you up and you feel a weight on your waist. The night before comes back to you when you feel a welcomed ache between your thighs, a reminder of your activities. You trace your fingers along the arm that is wrapped around your middle and you hear a tired sigh from behind followed by a croaky good morning from Zach.

“Good morning.” He grabs your hand so he can play with your fingers and you nearly cry at the intimacy of the moment. How different everything is compared to a few months ago; a relationship that wasn’t making you happy, the loss of your parents, and the lack of purpose you felt in your life.

“Are you happy? We’re almost done.”

You release a deep sigh at the sad interruption of the moment. “Happy to be done with the stress. Not happy because I won’t have a reason to keep you here.” Zach’s fingers clasp your chin and slightly turns your face to kiss you and then kiss your shoulder.

“You don’t need one.” His response muffled by his lips still pressed against your shoulder.

You turn around in his hold and ask the question that has been plaguing you for months. “What if you stayed?”

A furrow forms between his brows and you run your thumb along it to release the tension. “What if you just worked here….with me? As partners. You could keep everything in working order and I can make french toast and we’d do it. Together.”

Zach pauses his strokes on your waist and you inwardly panic that he’s going to reject you.

“Yeah.” 

You release the breath you weren’t aware you were holding at his answer. “Yeah?” Your vision starts to blur as tears fall down your cheek and bury your head where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Together. I did do most of the work after all.” You raise your head up to fight him on that statement but you soften at the loving look in his eyes when you meet them.

“Kiss me?” The emotions you’re feeling are so overwhelming that the question just barely breaches the surface, but in the stillness of the room he hears you.

Zach’s fingers clasp under your chin to bring you close to his face—his steady breaths through his nose tickling your upper lip until your lips meet in a soft kiss. You lick at his lips requesting access and he grants it before leaning over you. You feel your soft linen sheets slide off your naked body and you open your legs to allow his hips to slot against yours—his morning erection making itself known.

“Fuck, you’re already wet for me?”

***

You’re at the front desk going through your list of errands for the day when you feel a presence behind you and a kiss on your neck. “All booked?”

You tilt your head up to allow him to continue his ministrations and your cheeks begin to hurt from how wide your smile is. “Almost. Just one more empty room so we’ll see how today goes.” You turn around and give him a chaste kiss on his lips; a contrast to the assault he did on your neck seconds ago.

You grab his shoulder and push him away from the front desk but not before delivering a slap on his ass. “Now get back to work, Wellison.” He salutes you with a grin and turns to leave to deal with whatever needs fixing. You never did get used to that.

You hear the door chime and you turn to face your possible customers with a genuine smile. “Good morning! Welcome to-“

Taglist: @pedros-mustache @sharkbait77

#zach wellison #zach wellison x f!reader #zach wellison x female reader #zach wellison x you #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison fanfic #zach wellison fanfiction #brothers and sisters #zach brothers and sisters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javierpinme fanfic #javierpinme fanfiction #contractor!zach wellison #contractor!zach #pedrostories #tw kids #tw pregnancy

[misspearly1]

Miss Pearly’s Rec List -

So, I don’t quite know how long I’ve been on Tumblr now, however, when I first joined it was to read fics. Never did I imagine at some point down the line I would write myself, that being said, it is the amazing blogs that I have came across, groups I have joined and friends I’ve made a long the way that have inspired me to write.

The first fic I ever read, was called ‘dirt’ by Astern. It was outside of tumblr. A series made for Joel Miller about the events right after Sarah’s death. An amazing read that pushed me to find more, thus my reason for joining Tumblr :)

New adds: Good Girl (Din D’jarin) - @writerwoed 🥵 🥰

Arthur Morgan Fanfictions

This was the first post I ever interacted with 🥺 - @sad-sweet-cowboah - claimed

@shootybangbang - in which things are asked, and things are promised.

@shittybundaskenyer - we tear each other’s flesh, fall on the bed of leaves

@novaiya - accused of love

@bimrsadler - Bed. Now (prompt)

Joel Miller Fanfics -

@joelmillersgirlfriend - Dirty Texting

@joelsgeetar - Sunsets and Watery eyes

@unprofessional-bard - losing my religion

@emmikmil - a hard adjustment

@mandoalorian - look after you

@andvys - They won’t love love you like I do

@yespolkadotkitty - more time

@aerynwrites - slow dancing

@songsformonkeys - in hot water

@navalcriminalimagines - better than me

@twjournals - the one who got away

@slutsofren - surrender the night

@naughtyneganjdm - parenthood

@when-i-was-your-angel - holding you together

@lunarastrobabe - Sleepless night

@winchestershiresauce - Like a Brat

@writerwoed - Dancing With Joel Miller

@joelsrifle - Love Shack

@joelsbeard - The Morning After (Teaser to Guide me Series)

Pedro Pascal Characters 

@mudhorn-djarin19 - a helping hand (Din Djarin)

@mandosmistress - anything red (Max Phillips)

@javierpinme - inn over your head (Zach Wellison)

@cowboy-turtle - Efforts & Excuses (Javier Pena)

@littlemisspascal - the infinity cube(Multiple Pedro Characters)

@absurdthirst - Fiercely gentle (Pero Tovar)

@foli-vora - strike me down (Pero Tovar)

@djarinsbeskar - Stitches Drabble (Din Djarin)

@no-droids - be brave (Din Djarin)

@littlepadika - purpose (Din Djarin)

@queenofthefaceless - Cyare (Din Djarin)

@anaaaispunk - The before of the storm (Dave York)

@rina-cyarika-writing - the encounter (Dave York)

@corrupt-fvcker - bite your tongue (Max Phillips)

@ghostwiththemostbitch - they say I’m a monster(Max Phillips)

@autumnleaves1991-blog - it started at the copy machine (Max Phillips)

@ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa - of constellations and creeds (Din Djarin)

@littlemisspascal - Paper Airplanes (Frankie Morales)

@supernaturalgirl20 - Glutton for Punishment (Javier Pena)

@something-tofightfor - 500 word kissing prompt (Din D’jarin)

@flightlessangelwings - The Favourite (Javier Pena & Comandante Veracruz)

-

This is nearing 40 blogs I’ve recommended and it seriously does not even scratch the surface for the fics I have read. I will add more to this in the future. Thankyou all, I also thank the many other blogs that I am yet to find again 🥰.

#fic rec #would reccomend #10/10 reccomend #Pearly Rec List #Amazing Blogs here #Read their work #enjoyreaders #joel miller #arthur morgan #dave york #din djarin #max phillips #pero tovar #Javier Pena

[lowlights]

Writer Q&A

Thank you my beloved @javierpinme <3

1) How many complete fics/one shots do you have that you have not published (yet)?

Nothing done.

2) How many WIPS do you have right now?

One, two, three....and lots of things in the idea folder. First draft of the new Javi G story is done.

3) Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both?

I definitely do both- requests tend to sit in my inbox until I can get to them/get inspired to write them. Mostly I write original ideas.

4) If you do take requests, how many do you currently have?

Oh god...I have at least 15 sitting in my inbox. Several are from Eri, lol. If you sent me in anything, please know that it's not because I'm ignoring you.

5) How many fandoms do you write for?

I have only ever belonged to the Pedro fandom. Maaaaaybe the case could have been made for the X-Files fandom back in the day, but the internet barely existed then.

6) Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you no longer write for?

Nope! PPCU only.

7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts or other?

I have stuck to reader inserts thus far, no ships. There are some OCs coming though...

8) Niche fandoms/characters you write for?

I think that the most niche character I write for might be Max Lord? He just isn't around as much as some of the others.

9) Do you read fics as well as write them?

YES. Oh my god. I loooooove reading fics. I try to reblog as many as I possibly can also.

10) What is your favorite genre to write for?

I'm the softest idiot in the world, so soft smut tends to be where I land. Or just straight-up fluff sometimes.

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)?

You'll have to pry Only One Bed/Huddling for Warmth out of my cold dead fingers.

12) What do you do to get motivated to write?

Brainstorm either alone or with friends, listen to music, get super comfy.

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write?

I am super selective about smoosh fics (characters from multiple movies, etc), sex pollen, and have read a couple A/B/O. No hate at all to people who write them, but I probably won't ever write them.

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested?

I would write any character in the Pedro universe. Are there some you'd like to see more of?

15) How long have you been writing fanfiction?

About....7 months? 8 months?

16) Did you read fanfiction before you started writing?

YES. Oh my god, yes yes yes.

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites as well?

I post on AO3 when I think of it, I'm massively behind.

18) What do you personally consider the word counts of “Drabble”, “One shots” and ���fics”?

Fics are everything. Oneshots are single chapter things. Drabbles are something between a long thought and a one shot. I don't know....

19) Which do you prefer to write more? HC, drabbles, oneshots/fics, multi chapter stories, other?

I've stuck to mostly oneshots but I'm branching out bby

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued? If so, why?

Nope, nothing so far. Even if I haven't circled back to something in a minute, it's still on my list.

21) What is one of your main “pet-peeves” as a writer on Tumblr?

I'm going to echo what Lauren said - anon hate is so unnecessary. If you don't like something or someone, move it along. There's enough hate in the world, do we really need to attack people here?

22) Do you write at a particular time of day?

Whenever the mood strikes! Although I think I do more evening writing than anything.

23) Do you listen to music, ambiance/noise, etc. to write or do you need silence?

I loooove writing to lo-fi music or thunderstorm white noise. Coffeehouse jazz too. I don't like silence, I can hear my thoughts too loudly.

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing?

Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Depends on how many components I want to include or how long the fic is. I can keep a good amount of it in my head while I write. If it's going to be multi-chapter, it's getting an outline.

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day?

A lot of times I finish something and chuck it out into the universe so I don't have a chance to second guess myself and never post it at all. I try to do a taglist reblog at a time of day when I know more people are around, and I try to spread out comment reblogs so I don't clog people's dashes.

No tags, do this if you want to!!!!

#writer q&a

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Tumblr Writers Q&A

Thanks for tagging me @javierpinme @toomanystoriessolittletime and @katareyoudrilling! I hope everyone enjoys this tour of my CHAOS.

1) How many complete fics/one shots do you have that you have not published (yet)?

Zero... I write, and then as soon as I'm done I fling it out there. I never save any finished fics past the time I think they're done. I also don't post on a schedule, I just finish and toss it out there.

2) How many WIPS do you have right now?

Uhhhhh.... more than I'd like...

3) Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both?

Both. Requests are temporarily closed while I work through a backlog, but they'll open soon.

4) If you do take requests, how many do you currently have?

20.... don't look at me!!

5) How many fandoms do you write for?

Pedro Pascal characters and I wrote a one-off of Frank Castle once

6) Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you no longer write for?

Nope. This is my first rodeo.

7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts or other?

Reader inserts.

8) Niche fandoms/characters you write for?

Everything is pretty "mainstream" as far as this fandom goes.

9) Do you read fics as well as write them?

Good lord, yes. That's how I got here in the first place.

10) What is your favorite genre to write for?

I play in the smutty end of the pool 90% of the time.

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)?

To read: I'm a SUCKER for a good slow burn/anticipation/how stuff begins fic. I don't know if I have a favorite trope to write, but anxiety is a theme that shows up a lot in my writing.

12) What do you do to get motivated to write?

Some goddamn peace and quiet. And coffee. And mutuals who encourage my shenanigans.

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write?

I'm struggling to think of one....

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested?

Nah.

15) How long have you been writing fanfiction?

Less than a year... 334 days to be exact.

16) Did you read fanfiction before you started writing?

Yes, for like 6 weeks.

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites as well?

I only post fanfic on Tumblr.

18) What do you personally consider the word counts of “Drabble”, “One shots” and “fics”?

Drabble = 1>500 words One shot & fics are the same to me = 501>10,000+ words

19) Which do you prefer to write more? HC, drabbles, oneshots/fics, multi chapter stories, other?

I prefer fics of about 1000-5000 words, but so many of my one-shots have the allure of "just one more" installment and I get carried away.

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued? If so, why?

Not discontinued, only paused to write something else and haven't gotten back to them yet.

21) What is one of your main “pet-peeves” as a writer on Tumblr?

Tags never work around here.

22) Do you write at a particular time of day?

Whenever I can get some goddamn peace and quiet around my house.

23) Do you listen to music, ambiance/noise, etc. to write or do you need silence?

Either silence or this track on YouTube.

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing?

Oh god, no. I'm totally a "pantser" - I just start with a seed and write and write and write and then edit a bit and write more and edit more and write a little more and finish it and then I'm done. Outlines... not really sure what those are.

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day?

As soon as it's "done" to me, it's ready to post. I save nothing back.

---

Wanna play along? No tags for this one, just do your own!

#writer q&a #get to know your local smut peddler #JHFTM in a nutshell

[writeforfandoms]

Tumblr Writers Q&A

Thanks for the tags @grogusmum @javierpinme @insomniamamma

1) How many complete fics/one-shots do you have that you have not published (yet)? Oh gosh. Uhhhhh. Two one-shots and four combined chapters of fics.

2) How many WIPS do you have right now? Ahaha. Haha. Ha. ...nobody look at me. 

3) Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both? I have a few requests left from my 500 celebration, but mostly I write original ideas. I have been known to continue or expand on original ideas on request, though. 

4) If you do take requests, how many do you currently have? 5.

5) How many fandoms do you write for? Largely just the PP fandom with a sprinkling of Star Wars thrown in.

6) Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you no longer write for? ...SIGH. Yes. There are. No I’m not telling you. It was long, long ago.

7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts or other? Now I write mostly reader inserts. But I’m open to writing anything and everything. 

8) Niche fandoms/characters you write for? I don’t think so? 

9) Do you read fics as well as write them? Oh yes. So much fic. I never stopped reading fanfic, and I started a looooooong time ago.

10) What is your favorite genre to write for? Soft. Soft is a genre. Soft with a side of steamy. 

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)? SOULMATES. Gimme all the soulmates. I love that. Writing and reading both. I also like some of the other tropes: there was only one bed, huddling for warmth, idiots to lovers. 

12) What do you do to get motivated to write? Uhhhhhh that’s a great question! I’ll go back and reread what I’ve written if I’m trying to finish a fic/chapter. Or I’ll read. Or watch the source material. Or watch something completely unrelated. Or have a dream...

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write? More explicit smut.

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested? Not really. I mean, nobody’s asked about Javi G yet, but he’s in my lineup. I think I’ve had a request for every other character that I write for.

15) How long have you been writing fanfiction? ...It’s been a long, long time. I started way back as a young teen posting on FF.net. Stopped for a while. Started posting on here back in March of 2021. 

16) Did you read fan fiction before you started writing? Oh yes. I started reading fanfic probably at least a few months before I started writing, originally. And I never stopped reading, even as I took a break from writing to focus on writing original stuff. But fanfic has been a part of my life for more than half my life. 

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites as well? Mostly Tumblr. I do have an AO3 as well but I am very bad about updating it. 

18) What do you personally consider the word counts of "Drabble", "One shots" and "fics"? Drabbles are generally under 1k. One shot is a single chapter fic of any length. Fic is everything that is written out in story format, regardless of length. 

19) Which do you prefer to write more? HC, drabbles, oneshots/fics, multi chapter stories, other? All of the above. I don’t do HC often but I love them, same with drabbles. I write... far more multi-chapter stories than I meant to. But here we are. 

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued? If so, why? Nope! Nothing had been discontinued/abandoned. Put on hiatus, yes. But not abandoned. 

21) What is one of your main "pet-peeves" as a writer on Tumblr? Anon hate. Lack of engagement. Lack of engagement on SFW fics. A lot more attention is given to both one-shots and NSFW writing, and it is what it is. But that doesn’t mean that any less work and love goes into the non-smut fics. 

22) Do you write a particular time of day? ALL THE TIME.

23) Do you listen to music, ambiance/noise, etc to write or do you need silence? Usually I’ve got music, but sometimes it’s silence, or the ambient noises of the office (shhhh no I don’t type out stories on my phone while I’m at work, no, of course not...)

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing? Hahahahaha no. 

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day? I have stuck to a schedule for a couple fics... But never for more than 3-4 weeks a time. Otherwise? Stuff gets thrown out. I try to at least wait a few days in between posting things, though. 

No pressure tags: @jazzelsaur @radiowallet @chaoticgeminate @beecastle @green-socks @mandocrasis @asta-lily and you! 

#tag game #i love tag games

[pagannightwitch]

Tumblr Writers Q&A Thanks for tagging me @javierpinme !🌿🍄🌿

1) How many complete fics/one shots do you have that you have not published (yet)? No complete ones! Just a bunch of lil WIPS.

2) How many WIPS do you have right now? Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both? Mmm, two I think? The sequel to "Heart of a Mandalorian" and a possible continuation of my Frankie short series "The Dance". Technically three, I have the beginning scraps of a Marcus Pike one, but doubt that's gonna go anywhere.

I would take requests if anyone wanted to send them in, but mostly it's shower thots or dreams that spark mine.

3) Do you take writing requests or write original ideas, or both? Right now? Only original ideas. Original-ish, most of the stuff I write are my take on particular tropes. :p

4) If you do take requests, how many do you currently have? I ain't got none, hon.

5) How many fandoms do you write for? Just the Pedro Pascal men. <3

6) Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you no longer write for? Nope, I've never attempted writing anything before the Pedro character stuff. :) 7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts or other? Right now, just reader inserts. I don't feel comfortable trying to write anything else. Just easier for me to articulate what I want the characters to feel if it's from "my" perspective.

8) Niche fandoms/characters you write for? No? lol, I don't think I understand this one...What's a niche character??

9) Do you read fics as well as write them? I read so much fic it's fuckin' nuts. I don't know that I read much else at this point in muh lyfe. I dabble in writing.

10) What is your favorite genre to write for? SMUT. Sweet stuff, usually fluffy sweet smut. Though I do have a 4 part fic that has no smut at all in it. A feat for me, but one of my favorite things I've personally done.

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)? Ooh, I love this question. Friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, idiots who don't realize they love each other, one bed, grumpy and sunshine love each other, uuuummmmm. There's more. I love caretakers, sweet folks, and love. I don't like sad endings.

12) What do you do to get motivated to write? Read other peeps fics! Daydream, listen to music, watch movies. I mean, there's lots of stuff to motivate but most often it's something like, screaming at myself silently in my brain, staring in the middle distance. "WRITE, EGGHEAD. WRIIIIIITE."

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write? It's not that I don't like to write it, it's that I don't feel comfortable yet attempting it...Smut with more than two people. I love reading it, it can be gorgeous, sweet, sexy, etc, it's just difficult handling two fictional people trying to bump uglies and make it sound nice, more than that and I'm like, HALP. TO MANY GENITAL

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested?Nope, coz I've never gotten a request. Tho, they're not open atm coz I'm SCARED. What if I do the thing wrong? I DON'T WANT TO DISSAPOINT D:

15) How long have you been writing fanfiction? Uhhhh, couple of months I guess? Do daydreams count? I've been making up elaborate stories in my head, inserting myself into my favorite media since I can remember. But this is the first time I've attempted to share it with the outside world.

16) Did you read fanfiction before you started writing? Oh yes. So much fanfiction. So much.

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites as well? Nerp, just Tumblr for now.

18) What do you personally consider the word counts of “Drabble”, “One shots” and “fics”?

Errr, drabbles are short, yeah? Maybe a thousand words or so? One shots is just that right, a one time fic in that little story you're writing. A fic I use as a general term for all of it. Any fan created story I call a fic.

19) Which do you prefer to write more? HC, drabbles, oneshots/fics, multi chapter stories, other? I'm still finding myself. One shots at the moment, but I did enjoy the short series I wrote about Frankie, "The Dance". Since I am so brand spanking new at writing, I prefer to just get my thots out and see where they take me. I'm not super strong with long term story elements or dialogue. It takes me a long time to write anything for how many times I edit and re-write things.

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued? If so, why?I started writing something that didn't have a title that I never posted ANYWHERE. Just as practice with a thot I had about Din Djarin. AU where the reader lives in a universe where Star Wars doesn't exist, who is plunged into the Star Wars universe after wishing herself there during an abusive episode from her husband/boyfriend. Din and Grogu take care of her. She slowly opens up, befriends the boys and falls in love. It didn't feel very strong, but it was great practice. All 40k words live in my drafts on googledocs.

21) What is one of your main “pet-peeves” as a writer on Tumblr? Anon hate and people only liking content and not reblogging. If you don't have anything nice to say, fuck off. Nobody needs that kind of negativity in their life, seriously. If you like something REBLOG IT. Jesus, it's polite ok? It gets the content creator out to a wider audience and it just FEELS NICE TO SEE AS A CONTENT CREATOR. It means that what we made wasn't utter shit, and some other little internet gremlin liked it. It feels good.

22) Do you write at a particular time of day? Anytime the fic gods see fit to bless my brain with thots.

23) Do you listen to music, ambiance/noise, etc. to write or do you need silence? Honestly? I rarely listen to music when I write. I have two kids I homeschool, and we often have something educational on tv, or spongebob or something on when we aren't doing school. I feel most comfortable writing on google docs on my cell phone now, since that's easiest to cart around, and I can whip it out and jot things down wherever I'm at. So amient sound of two small goblins, spongebob, murder shows, WAP, whatever. It's never super set. I write when I get a minute, sounds around me are not even a secondary thought.

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing? Hell no, buckle up bitches! Not even the writer knows where this shit's going. 🤣😂🤣

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day? It takes me two weeks of writing, two weeks of editing, another week of should I post/should I not post, this is trash, lemme edit it one more time and it'll be right. Ah fuck it. YEET. Have some smut, fellow internet gremlins. THERE IS NO SET TIME. THE TIME COMES WHEN THE FIC IS DONE.

No pressure tagging! @write-and-buried @musings-of-a-rose @rosellacwrites @lowlights @stefiangel2 @chaoticgeminate @daddydindjarin @youvebeenlivingfictional

#tag game #open invite to any and all

[javierpinme]

Cry To Me

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: cursing, friends with benefits, reunited best friends, general fluffiness, allusions to sex

Rating: M

Summary: Frankie and you have reunited after losing touch for years. Fresh off of his divorce you propose a friends with benefits situation which he accepts. The problem is you’re still very much in love with him, but you want him to enjoy his single life after being married for so long.

A/N: In which a person who doesn’t know how to write gets stuck with the thought of dancing with Frankie in the kitchen and writes it. 😅 I saw a tik tok of a couple dancing to Cry to Me by Solomon Burke this morning and this happened. It was supposed to be 500 words, but here we are at over 1,000+. Had no plan for this one, just me churning out nonsense as I went.

AO3

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Frankie and you were inseparable growing up having been present for both of your trials of life; his going into the army and you taking the plunge into starting an Etsy business after high school. Your friends defined the two of you as a living definition of bad timing. He had a high school sweetheart that he ended marrying shortly after coming back home from the army. You would have been happy for him if you weren’t so in love with him and it got hard to be around him which is why you had drifted apart.

The next time you saw each other was shortly after his divorce from his wife and you could see how raw it still was for him. You spent the whole night catching up on old memories, delicately skipping over the topic of his ex-wife, and new things going on in your life. That was also the night you had your first kiss, but considering how fresh his divorce was you didn’t want him to jump into another relationship. That’s when you had proposed friends with benefits as a solution. It gave him time to figure things out and you wanted him to be able to enjoy his single life after being married for so long. You didn’t want to be the rebound and you both still got what you wanted out of each other.

You were surprised to receive a call from Frankie asking you to come over when you knew he had a date. You assumed it didn’t go well given the fact that you’re standing in his kitchen making dinner while he sleeps; your clothes lined up in a trail to his bedroom. You both had worked up quite the appetite so you threw on the closest article of clothing which happened to be his favorite Fleetwood Mac tee shirt that had way too many holes to be able to get away with in public.

It wasn’t anything special really, just some thrown together veggies on their last leg and chicken you found in his fridge. You didn’t want to wake Frankie up so you put on your airpods to lose yourself in the moment. The sound of Cry to Me by Solomon Burke mingling with the sizzling of the pan drowning out the world until your thoughts are interrupted by a hand sweeping your hair away from your shoulder and a kiss just behind your ear. You hum pressing your ass into the culprit’s hips.

“What are you listening to?”

His question muffled by his lips never leaving your neck for a second. You pull out a single airpod to place it into his ear and he wraps his arms around your waist swaying to the music from behind.

You catch from the corner of your eye his hand moving to turn the stove off before turning you around in his arms; his face illuminated only by the orange glow from the light above his stove. He pulls out your airpods to play it out aloud and the music echoes off of the tiled walls. Neither of you were very blessed with the dancing gene so it is more swinging your hips to the beat together; your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms holding you like a vice around your lower back.

"I didn't go." Frankie murmurs as he leans close to nuzzle his nose against yours; just a whisper away from merging your lips together.

You try to swallow your gasp at the unspoken declaration and fail miserably. This is uncharted territory for the two of you. You’re just friends who indulge in each other's company occasionally. This feels almost….intimate.

You find yourself overwhelmed by his unwavering stare and betrayed by the rhythmic pounding in your chest giving away your true emotions.

"Frankie...we shouldn't. We agreed."

You press against his shoulders trying to separate from him and the moment which only makes his hold on you tighten on both your waist and heart. He pinches his thumb and forefinger on your chin to bring your attention back to him and you don’t miss the audible gulp before his next words fall out of his mouth.

“No.” He growled moving his hand up your neck and you can feel his pulse accelerating on his wrist as it presses against your jaw. “You set the terms and I went along with it. It’s always been you. I didn’t go because there’s never going to be anyone else, but you.”

He accentuates those last two words with his thumb caressing your cheekbone; his tone sounding more confident and stern than you’ve ever heard out of him. His other hand shifts from its place around your waist to rub your spine softly.

You searched his deep brown eyes looking for any sense of doubt and don’t find anything but unadulterated adoration in them.

“Fuck Frankie, I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

You raise your hand to meet his on your cheek and the nervous fluttering you had felt in your chest before is replaced with surety in a life with this man; no longer having to hide behind the notion of friends with benefits. Your best friend and your lover.

“I—I  didn’t want to rush you with the divorce being so fresh. I wanted to give you time.”

He gazes at your watery eyes threatening to spill and releases the grip your teeth have on your bottom lip; his next confession just about making your heart burst.

“Baby, I didn't need time. I just needed you and I don't want to waste any more of it without telling you how long I've loved you. Hell, I’ve waited for you for over 10 years.”

“But you got married?” You question not hiding the confusion obviously written all over your face.

“I did and that marriage gave me my beautiful baby girl. I will always have a love for her for that reason, but you are it for me. I never stopped loving you even when I should have.”

“Now…” His thumb presses into your bottom lip and your eyes follow the peek of tongue wetting his lips. “Will you let me show you how much?” His hunger for you making his eyes change from that brown that you could get lost in to a darkened shade.

“Yes. Please.”

You don’t even care about the desperation in your voice. The only thing that matters is your need to feel all of him. You barely get your words out before his lips come crashing down on yours; his tongue automatically slipping in to find purchase against yours.

His hands are grasping whatever part of you that they can, but it still isn’t enough for him. He taps on the counter behind you encouraging you to hop up on it. His hands run along your thighs pulling your shirt up with it and pull your hips close to the edge; wrapping your legs around his waist and lifting you off the counter. You run your fingers through the nape of his neck and pull at his curls. You both rely on muscle memory alone to get to your destination completely lost in each other’s kisses.

"What's your plan, Morales?" You ask with a mischievous smile and a nip at his bottom lip.

"My plan? My plan is making you sing for me several times tonight and every night after."

He emphasizes with a bite to your pulse point before replacing it with an open mouthed kiss making you whimper in anticipation; kicking his bedroom door closed behind him to make good on that promise.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #javierpinme fanfic #javierpinme fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #Spotify

[javierpinme]

Safe

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none (Does Javi need his own warning?), unrequited? love, unestablished relationship, maybe one curse word?

A/N: First fic so please be kind! I posted this originally on my old blog, but I had to make a new one so this is a repost. I was talking to my therapist about love languages and thought about what Javi’s would be. In this fic I imagine his top two love languages are physical touch and acts of service. While the female reader can be any love language. I’ve been sitting on this idea for over a month and finally took the plunge to write it. I’m considering writing a part two or more with these idiots since I really liked writing this. This is purely self indulgent! Enjoy!

AO3

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You’ve went through your supply of wine while relaxing on the couch. You were too tired to walk the distance to your bed so while the location isn’t ideal you were too tired to tell the difference.  Your back will yell at you in the morning, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. You awaken from sudden knocking on your door. Your back definitely hated you on your way up and at that point it didn’t matter who it was. You were angry at them because you needed someone to blame for your pain. It was their fault that you had to get up. On the way to the door you looked at the clock on the stove. It had to be late. It read 2 o’clock in the morning. You weren’t expecting anybody so you peek through the peep hole. Even though the building is filled with DEA agents you can never be too safe. Javi.

You hesitate for a moment and briefly wonder if you should pretend you’re not home. You left the lights on and he can probably see it peeking through the bottom of the door along with the grumbling you didn’t hide walking to the door. Ultimately you open it to him completely disheveled. The buttons of his shirt still look intact so you don’t think he came back from being with a woman.

 “Can I come in?”

His voice is so quiet you’re not even sure you could hear him at first. You know why he’s here. You heard that Carrillo had shot a kid from Steve. You know Javi was present for it.

 You watch him for a couple seconds to see if maybe he was drunk and to decide whether or not letting him in was really a good idea for you. He hasn’t been to your place since your fight. He started coming to your place every time something went wrong at work. Since you worked in the same building you could see when things didn’t go to plan. It started with ordering takeout because he probably didn’t eat. You would just sit on opposite sides of the couch nursing beers and watching a telenova on TV. Nothing had to be said and that became your routine. His constant when the world got too much. The last time he was here you tried to get him to talk to you. It was hopeless. He was never a talker, but you kept pushing.

 You could feel his eyes burning into you at work each day. Don’t look up. Why did you have to have glass windows into your office and why did it have to sit directly across from his desk? You knew you couldn’t ignore him completely. You still had a job to do, but you still needed your boundaries.

 No words needed to be said. You weren’t even sure what to say so you open the door wider in silence to allow the space for him to walk in. It had been weeks since he’s been here. He dragged his feet right to your couch like he belonged here. Perhaps he did. He sat down with his elbows on his knees; head buried in his hands. Your back was pressed up against the door hoping it would ground you.

 Eventually you slowly made your way over to him not quite sure what to do with your hands though he made that decision for you. He lifted his head up and grabbed both of your hips pulling you in between his open legs. He wrapped his arms around your lower back and ran his hands up the middle of your back before closing the gap between you. His head was pressed against your stomach and you could feel his deep breaths against your shirt. You stayed like that for minutes, hours, days. You’re not even sure. You made no effort to move. He just seemed so fragile you were afraid he’d break if you did.

 “Javi, you should sleep. You can stay here tonight and take the bed.”

You start to shift away from him to direct him to your bedroom. He’s in no place to leave your apartment, but the thought of the two of you sleeping in the same bed is too much. You’ll take the couch.

 “No, please. I just-” His answer is muffled against your stomach and if it was possible for him to grip you even tighter he did.

It hurt. It hurt to see him so broken and it hurt how much you wanted to take away that pain regardless of the outcome for you. How did you get to this point? Why did you start to fall for a man with no ability to have relationships? You knew this before you even met him, but the minute you fell into his orbit there was no going back. He doesn’t do relationships with women, but he also didn’t do friendships yet here you were.

 You’re looking at the fan on your ceiling trying to fight tears. The only sounds heard in the room are the whirring from it and the shaky exhales from below. You feel a shift from below and it’s almost like the breath is knocked out of you. Those deep brown eyes and the bridge of his nose are the only parts of him visible, but damn if it wasn’t just as disarming. He’s fighting tears with how glassy they are and the furrow in his eyebrows. You can tell. You want to tell him it’s okay, you’re safe. You know you can’t though. He’ll just shut down again like last time.

 All you can do is rub your thumb softly between his brows to smooth out the wrinkles he created.  All you can do is run your fingers through his unruly brown curls that he raked his hands through one too many times on the way to your apartment. Your eyes are locked on each other and your resolve breaks.

 “Okay, just let me-“ you’re trying to maneuver the couch to pull it out all while he’s maintaining a power grip on your back.

It’s like he thinks you’re going to disappear if he lets go. You won’t. You don’t know if you could even if you wanted to. He’s got such a hold on your heart and he doesn’t even know it. You start shifting to lie down on the couch with your head on the arm of the couch. It’s not easy or graceful since he’s made no move to assist you. He starts to burrow his face into the crook of your neck, but you cradle his head downwards to lie where your heart is located.

 You read somewhere that listening to heartbeats can calm people. You want to give him a reminder. You’re alive. He’s alive. There isn’t just death in the world. There’s ugliness, but there’s beauty too. There’s still life outside of the horrors you encounter every day. You think he understands your silent message because he wraps his arms around your waist and you feel a pressure on your chest from him pressing his ear more as if it will help him hear better. As if your chest is the barrier to life itself. He falls asleep to you running your fingers through his curls again; his shaky exhales turning to soft snores. You’re safe.

 Warm. That’s the first thing you feel before opening your eyes. There’s a quilt that normally sits on your bed tucked around you. Javi isn’t here anymore, but you also didn’t expect him to be. You knew he was probably going to go work early to deal with the aftermath of what transpired the night before. You find yourself looking at the ceiling fan like you had last night, but this time it feels different. You swing your legs off the couch and immediately feel what might be a wine headache coming on. Or is it caffeine? It was late in the morning, but you always did sleep longer when you drank. You ran your hand over the side of your face and stare mindlessly in your living room. As you’re doing your daily stretch you lift yourself off the couch to make yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Your back popping as you pass by your recycling bin to find the empty wine bottle from the night before. You didn’t even notice it wasn’t sitting on the coffee table anymore. That’s when you see a to-go cup of coffee that is from that café down the street sitting on your kitchen island. It’s still warm so you take a sip closing your eyes.

 Just the way you like it.

#pedro pascal #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena #fan fic #fan fiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #javier pena x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfic #javierpinme fanfic #javierpinme fanfiction #jaiver pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #Javier peña x reader

[javierpinme]

The Catalyst

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: sexual tension, mention of Cara Dune is its own warning

Rating: T

Summary: You don't know why you thought you could make it one day without fighting with Mando. The tension has been building for a while and it looks like you're about to reach the conclusion of it.

A/N: I originally sent this in as a thot as an anon hoping I would finally stop thinking about it, but alas I couldn’t so here we are. I originally uploaded this on AO3 a week ago and realized that I never put it on here.

AO3

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The cheers of the villagers are a complete contrast to the earlier events filled with screams, flesh tearing, and blasters firing. The threat of the raiders is over. Mando and you have made it out alive with zero casualties. The only acknowledgement between the two of you after Cara and him solved the problem of the AT-ST is a stiff nod. Anything more than that would reveal your hidden feelings; you're not ready to unpack that one just yet. The adrenaline of the ordeal is shifting into a state of exhaustion. The familiar ache seeping into your joints and muscles that usually follows post-battle.

Mando is tired too. You can see it in the way he slumps his shoulders and his slower than normal strides with Cara. You walk to your temporary living situation and don't even bother to remove your clothes that more than likely have blood on it. You'll deal with your dirty sheets in the morning. You sit down on the edge of your cot and your boots are mocking you. Why did you have to pick shoe wear that involves you bending to untie them? Your muscles are screaming at you to relieve the tension building. There aren't that many comforts in the galaxy, but even the cot felt like a 5 star hotel bed when you feel like this. Mando comes into the hut shortly after though he never removes his armor. You respect his creed, but there wasn't a threat anymore. It can't be comfortable sleeping like that, but telling him would make it seem like you care. You don't, of course.

You don't usually feel the need to fill the silence, but you find yourself filling it. Goodnight. There's a pause from the other side of the hut and your mind starts running that you crossed an unspoken invisible line that the two of you created. Then you hear it. Goodnight.

There's warmth from the sun rays spilling onto your features when the sun starts to rise. You can see children running around off in the distance and you can't help the smile forming on your face hearing their laughter. They more than likely haven't known peace since the raiders started their wrath. It felt good to have played a role in that.

The stretch you do lying in the cot feels wonderful on your back. Out of the corner of your eye you see Mando in a similar state of relaxation. His hands are folded behind his head and his ankles crossed. He must have noticed you were awake, because he immediately breaks the moment by leaving. Does he ever stay still? You can't help the drawn out sigh that falls from your lips and close your eyes to take in the sounds surrounding you.

The sound of heavy footsteps cause you to open your eyes along with the feeling of something being placed on your on the edge of your cot. Breakfast. He brought you breakfast. Good morning, thanks. Morning. He says with a grunt at your appreciation of bringing you food. You lift yourself up with a groan to a seated position and enjoy the moment. It was too quiet.

You’re not even sure how you got here. The reason for your argument in the first place was drowned out by your inner need for dominance. You were at a slight disadvantage due to the towering presence of beskar, but what you did have going for you was your stubbornness and smart retort to his intimidation tactics.  You’re both vibrating with unresolved tension with no chance of release; nothing to redirect what you’re feeling so resorting to your usual vices which is screaming at each other.  

It wasn’t always like this. You used to make him laugh underneath that tin can sometimes. Sometime between being just a crew member to whatever it was that was beginning to develop between the two of you that was when the fights started. It was easier than dealing with the latter. The galaxy was too harsh for allowing anyone to feel love without anguish following closely behind. The only communication you seemed to agree on was silence, yelling, and sarcasm. It was easier that way.

You’re in Sorgan and it’s pouring outside. He’s trying to get you to go inside, but you’re so damn stubborn you refuse just out of spite. It doesn’t even matter that your clothes are soaked causing your body’s response to the freezing temperature. He can probably hear your teeth chattering from where he’s standing. The thunder and lightning isn’t helping. It adds another layer of the already volatile situation you’ve both found yourselves in. Why is it so fucking cold?

Dammit you’ll get sick. You’re not useful to me if you’re bedridden.

That’s it. That’s the catalyst. You're not sure if he can even see the glare you're giving him in the darkness, but you hope he does. You can’t stand to be in the same room with him anymore. Even just the thought of hearing him breathe at this point is a nuisance. It’s almost too much. It will kill you, you’re sure of it. I’m bunking with Cara. He’s lost his patience. You can tell from the heaving of his chest, but you can’t find it in you to care. You don’t need to see his face to know there is a scowl under there. You’re surprised you can’t see smoke coming out of that helmet. Why isn’t he saying anything? His body is so rigid and tense. You might have gone too far this t-

What are you doing?!

 He’s thrown you over his shoulders to carry you back to the hut you share. It’s like you don’t even weigh anything even with the extra weight your soaked clothes add. You would be impressed with his strength if you weren’t supposed to pretend how much you hated it so you thrash your legs in protest. You liked the screaming better. Now you feel like he’s treating you like a petulant child by giving you the silent treatment. He’s trying to make you look like the one with the temper tantrum because there might be witnesses. You’d be surprised if you didn’t wake up the whole village. He can probably feel how freezing you are and puts you down. Without saying another word he kneels down in front of the fireplace to create warmth in the room. The only sounds filling the room are the crackle of the fire and your own shallow breaths.

Your clothes. Take it off or I will.

You know you can’t keep your clothes on. You know you need to change into something dry, but you refuse again just to establish you’re the one in control. You’re in control. Not him. Realistically you’re aware you could get sick and you would probably need to stay in bed. Then you briefly wonder if he has a filter in that helmet because you’d definitely sneeze in his face if he didn’t.  How can you change when he’s made no move to even turn around?

It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

What?

You had argued about god knows what and you left to blow off steam the day before. By the time you made it back the hue in the hut changed from that orange soft glow that golden hour usually brings to a soft blue. It would have been pretty if you weren’t so damn annoyed still. Mando was asleep thankfully so no awkward dance of trying to ignore the other in close quarters. You watched the soft rise and fall of his chest signaling he was indeed asleep. He was almost tolerable when he was sleeping even with the snoring. Almost cute. Almost. It didn’t matter that you never saw what was under the helmet, but you would never give him any indication of that. You were so tired. You were physically drained from the day so you took off your clothes haphazardly and changed into a nightshirt to sleep your frustrations away. Tomorrow will be better.

You were awake the whole time and didn’t say anything? You seethed.

You seemed to be having trouble and I didn’t want to hear your complaining when you inevitably tripped.

He’s challenging you. You’re both very well aware the dam could break based on your next move and he’s not going to lay out all his cards. Would the fighting even stop? Even with the resolve of all your combined tension? You’re taking too long and he’s staring. It’s hard to tell when all you see is a black abyss in place for eyes, but you can feel them boring into yours with loathing or is it desire?

You’re going to get sick if you don’t change.

He cares, but he would never give you any indication of that. He takes a step towards you to let you know he wasn’t lying about his earlier statement. If you’re going to do this you’re going to make a fuss about it. It’s childish, yes, but you don’t have it in you to care. It’s better than laying out all your cards. He can’t enjoy this if you’re glaring at him. I hate you. No, you don’t.

Never losing eye contact you start untying your boots. Glare. The cool air is doing nothing to calm your heated skin after your shirt is removed, but you can’t decide if the temperature is rising from anger or something else. Don’t enjoy this. Too late. The rain is still roaring outside and there’s almost an electric charge in the room waiting to spark. It’s too quiet. Then he says,

Glare all you want but this is doing something for me.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #javierpinme fanfiction #javierpinme fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

[javierpinme]

Part One: New Beginnings

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Infidelity, angst, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol

Rating: M (might change)

Summary:  You’ve lived in a small town for half of your life and nothings really changed until it did. Moving halfway across the country you find lasting friendships and a love you needed at the exactly the right time.

A/N: There is not a ton of Frankie in this one since I wanted to set the tone for the reader before they meet! They don’t see/meet each other until near the end (or do they?) I wanted to build the reader’s relationships with the people in her life as there will more parts.

AO3

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It’s hard to build friendships as an adult without being under the pretense of school or college. It’s especially difficult when you decide to move across the country. Away from your family and friends, but it’s what you needed. Seeing the same four walls you lived in, that same greasy diner that was always your go-to after one too many tequila shots the night before, and that one ex from high school that you’d really rather forget while running errands were making you feel complacent. Wake up. Drink. Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. You’ve spent most of your life here. You weren’t about to spend the rest of it here. So, you did something completely unlike you. You packed up your life and moved. The house was beautiful. You’d never owned anything in your life; just rented so this is a major upgrade for you. The first sight that greets you is the stairs after living in a first floor unit for most of your life. The house isn’t in perfect shape, but it’s yours which is all that matters.

The movers have left so you finally had the place to yourself. You couldn’t help the defeated sigh that fell from your mouth at the sight of all the boxes. If your sister and friends were here you’d probably be knee deep in pizza and wine while attempting to build furniture. You gave your brain the space to let that thought sink in, but you craved the freedom so you didn’t let that sit too long. You came here to build your own memories; no room for regrets now. So, the first thing you decide to acclimate yourself with is the closest liquor store and that is how you met Hannah.

The first thing you hear after getting lost reading a wine label is a loud oof before slamming into somebody. You only barely managed to catch the bottle before it became one with the outdated tile.

“I am SO sorry! I’m not even going to lie to you I was not watching where I was going. Are you okay? You didn’t drop anything did you?”

You manage to form a sentence between your scrambled apologies in between. The first thing you notice when you look at the face standing in front of you is how pretty she is. That typical blonde hair and blue eyes type that reminds you of the girls you went to high school with. You wince. Stop it.

“Oh, I’m okay! It was more the residual shock of it really. You must really need that bottle because you were just about ready to run me over in your pursuit to the cash register. Cheating ex or bad date?”

She says with a laugh while pointing at the wine still in your hand. Oh, she’s nice. You immediately feel guilty for that initial judgment when first looking at her.

“Oh, neither. I just moved here and need sustenance to unpack. Who knew you could fit your entire life into boxes?” You mirror her laugh.

“I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. Walk around the neighborhood and find the necessities which is how I ended up here.” You say with a twirl in your finger.

"Ah, the one down the street that's just begging to be demolished?" She says while snapping her fingers with a mischievous smile.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that. She's old, but she's got character." You can't help the lopsided grin you give her. She hasn't even seen the dream kitchen with those beautiful green cabinets.

“Hey, well if you need help with that-“ her eyes shifting to the bottle, “I live right down the street so I can come over. I know moving somewhere unfamiliar can be a little daunting especially if you’re alone.” You can’t help the wide smile forming at her sweet gesture.

“And to help me unpack right?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean I’m better at draining a bottle, but if it’s necessary I will work for food and drinks. But, if I’m going to help you we are going to need way more than that.”

She finishes her sentence grabbing more bottles while traveling through the aisles. The sound of you’ve got to try this one and this one’s local in between aisle changes filling the store. You assure her that she is not off the hook with helping even with the promise of the “best merlot you’ve ever had in your life.”

Bags filling both of your hands and way too much alcohol for just two people to consume you make your way up the steps. Hannah pauses and looks up at the house.

“I was right. It should have been demolished. Will the porch cave in before I make it inside?” She says with skepticism at the foundation of your new home.

“Probably eventually but-“ you turn around to face her, “she’ll last for now. Come on, I haven’t even showed you the best part!”

You open your door and make your way inside leaving the door open for her to follow. You faintly hear from the kitchen “I seriously doubt that”, and you can’t help your chuckle at the remark.

You’ve always wanted a fixer upper; probably from all the HGTV shows you immersed yourself in as a child and the fact you’ve only ever lived in apartments. The first and only thing you managed to unpack first was your wine glasses. You definitely made a point to label them in big writing while packing up back home. A decision you are patting yourself on the back for now.

“So, do you like pizza? I know a good place. Pizza and wine should always be paired with move-in days. Oh, you’re right. This is probably the only good part of your house.”

Hannah leaned on the counter next you before shifting to test the weight taking in the scene of your kitchen.

“Love pizza. It’s not there yet, but I definitely have some plans with it; starting with keeping the color of those cabinets.”

In between sips of your glasses of wine you start to collaborate over your ideas of making it functional and aesthetically pleasing.

It didn’t take very long to start building friendships with the people in your area. You even started joining Sunday brunches and you were overly ecstatic finding out that bottomless mimosas existed. They didn’t have these at the diners back home. They even started assisting you with choosing paint swatches and going to Home Depot because you just had try that DIY project of making your own lounge chair that you found scrolling on Youtube.

“I think your measurements are a little off.”

Alex, probably one of your favorites of the group, mirrors the tilt of your head with his arms crossed. He co-owns a woodworking business with his husband so you wanted him there for any adjustments and moral support. Unfortunately for you, he wanted you to learn first which really meant fail.

You grimace at your handiwork and say, “yeah, I think maybe I should stick with what I’m good at.”

With a breathy laugh he adds, “give yourself some credit. You managed to tear up the carpet in the living room AND still able to keep the original hardwood. That’s no easy feat.”

You’ve somehow managed to create a whole support system in the little time that you’ve spent here. You’ve finally had the time and resources to create your own little touches that make your house now a home.

“Hannah, can’t we just stay in tonight? I’ve already been defeated twice by the light fixture in the living and my fingers are still tingling from the faulty power box. I’m really not in the mood.”

You give her the biggest puppy eyes you can manage while exaggeratingly lifting you fingers.

“Oh no, you’re going out to the bar tonight. You’ve been here for months and you really need to get yourself out there. You’re hot. Own it. Besides, it’s just you and me so there’s no pressure.”

She says with a swat to your ass and a push towards your closet. The only response you can add to that is Hmph.

The bar is nice enough with the dim lighting and it’s not so loud that you can’t hear yourself talk. Hannah insisted you wear one of your nicer dresses, but you wanted to feel like yourself so you opted for a t-shirt tucked into light wash jeans. If you were going to meet anyone tonight you wanted to set the standard for anything that could happen at the start. You’re still nursing your second beer while Hannah is on her third shot of the night. You feel a presence to your right and a sharp pinch to your thigh on your left. Hannah is of course attempting to alert you to the attractive man on the other side of you as if you didn’t notice. You turn around with a pained look on your face to her which she just shrugs off before making herself scarce.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Your attention is brought back to the man to your right. He is very cute in a boyish kind of way and you briefly wonder if he’s talking to someone else. He’s dressed like he just got out of a business meeting, but his rolled sleeves are definitely doing something for you.

“Sure. What’s your name?” You say with the flirtiest smile you can muster.

“Joey. Nice to meet you.”

God, his smile must do wonders for his conquests. It’s working for you quite honestly. You completely lose track of time talking to him and see out of the corner of your eye Hannah leaving the bar holding onto a man with salt and pepper hair and scruff. Looks like she got lucky too. She gives you a wink as she walks out the door and you look to see where he was sitting in case you need to remember faces. Seems like he was out with some of his friends, but you didn’t get a thorough look because your attention is immediately brought back to Joey. You set a reminder for yourself to check in with her before you go to bed tonight.

It’s been a constant date after date and you were really beginning to develop feelings for him. Sure, you always tried to convince him you didn’t need to be wooed with all these extravagant dates. You were just happy to spend time with him. You didn’t need to go to a fancy restaurant to tell you that. It just wasn’t your style, but it made him happy so you went along with it. You had initially assumed him to be a one night stand, but you were pleasantly surprised to hear from him the next day asking to take you out dinner.

Your muscles in your stomach are straining from how hard you’re laughing at America’s Funniest Home Videos on the TV. Joey is sitting next to you on the couch with takeout cartons loitered all over your coffee table. The living room is starting to lose its natural lighting due to the day coming to a close; the only light source in the room being the lamp sitting on the end table next to the couch and the glow from the TV. You notice Joey looking at you with a far off look.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a furrow in your brow. “Nothing.” His face shifting to a more pleasant tone once he turns back to the TV. The two of you had settled into a routine at your house. You had even introduced him to your friends and they really seemed to enjoy spending time with him. It was easy for them to fall for his charms as you did.

“Come on, hurry up. You’re supposed to be helping me pick out an outfit for tonight!”

Hannah still continued to see the man from the bar, Santi, his friends called him.

“If I’m supposed to be helping you pick an outfit then why are we in the lingerie section?” You ask with a sly grin on your face.

“That’s for after, of course. Gotta keep it interesting.”

Her laugh followed by her adding some bras and panties to her hands. You agreed to come with her tonight to officially meet him and his friends. You’ve heard enough about him from her. Some very intimate details as well. They weren’t exactly exclusive to each other and as far as you knew they were dating other people which you respected. You were nervous about meeting them, but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hannah would want to do this. You trusted her judgment and you were already comfortable that it was going to be in the bar you usually ventured out to.

In her words, “your only forms of entertainment can’t just be your home projects, Joey and me, you know? You deserve to have fun too and these guys will show you a good time I promise” while ringing up her purchases.

You barely manage to make it through the door of the bar before you feel a breeze next to you from her speeding to Santi with a kiss. You lovingly shake your head at her dramatic antics and make your way over to the table. It’s a little awkward at first since Hannah still had yet to let go of the man sitting next to her and you didn’t know how to start a conversation with these men with what was going on next to you.

“Sorry. I’m Santi, but everyone calls me Pope.”

He reaches over to shake your hand with a tone that is definitely not apologetic at all, but you find it amusing. You like him already. You can definitely see why Hannah was interested, but not your type.

He starts introducing his friends off to you. Will. He seems like the more mellow type of the group and his call sign is Ironhead. Benny is just Benny since he’s the baby of the group.

“He’s the menace of all of us so watch out for this one.” Will ruffles his brother’s hair for added measure which Benny recoils from.

Then, Frankie, they call him Catfish. Oh he’s handsome, but not in the boyish way that Joey is. He’s handsome in a more ruggish kind of way and you can’t seem to break eye contact from him. Your eyes don’t know where to go first so they travel from his deep brown eyes, to the bare patches on the beard he can’t seem to grow that you find yourself wanting to kiss, and to the curls peeking out of his standard heating oil hat. You find yourself itching to take that hat off and run your fingers through the nape of his hair.  Stop. He’s the more reserved one in the group which makes sense since he really hasn’t fully spoken more than a few words at a time to you. You can’t control the side glances you keep shooting at him throughout the night. You’re just appreciating the view and maybe conjuring up a few very much domestic fantasies in your head. Liar.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to get a grip on your emotions. Tilting your head at your reflection you point an accusing finger “get yourself together. You ca—.“  You jump at the intrusion of an elderly woman walking into the otherwise empty bathroom; a quizzical look forming on her face from your actions. Your nervous laugh gets the best of you. “It isn’t what it- I don’t always do this.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to explain yourself since she’s already closed the stall before you even got the chance to finish your sentence. You find yourself even more flustered leaving the bathroom than before going into it. This is going to be a long night.

***

Frankie was nervous when Santi first told him that Hannah would be bringing a friend. He remembers you from the night Santi first left with her. How could he forget? You had his attention the moment you stepped into the bar, but by the time he finally worked up the nerve to talk to you another guy had already swooped in. It wasn’t that surprising considering and it was probably for the best. He really wasn’t in any headspace to be in a relationship. His eyes followed you when you left to go to the bathroom in a hurry and he could just feel Santi’s eyes burning into him. He knew. You were exactly his type and he hoped to whoever was up above that he would just leave him to his hopeless crush without interfering.

***

You sit down at the table preparing to come up with some segway into the conversation between everyone when Santi breaks it with a loud clap calling your name out. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

You miss the glare that Frankie shoots him and the embarrassed groan he makes. You don’t miss the warning tone Will gives when calling Santi’s name out, but you get the feeling you’re not entitled to know what that’s about.

“Yes, I am.” Why does it feel so wrong to say that? “His name is Joey.” Hannah chimes in while rubbing Santi’s shoulders.

You also miss the sight of Frankie’s shoulders deflating at that piece of information. Your answer seems to satisfy Santi since he drops it after that and moves on to a different topic. “Benny, when’s your next fight?” It’s Friday apparently and all the guys along with Hannah are going to support him.

Will shifts towards you and says, “you can come if you want.” You cringe on the inside; your insecurities getting the best of you. If you want. They’re only inviting you because you’re there at the moment. “Maybe.” You won’t.

Somehow, Hannah has convinced you to go out with them a second time. “Come on, you can bring Joey since you’re so nervous! Please bring him,” she says with pleading eyes.

“I’m not nervous!” Liar. There is a sliver of truth to her statement, but you don’t want to tell her the reason for your nerves is seeing Frankie again. Yet here you were sitting in a booth with Joey across from Hannah and the rest of the guys.

“Jesus Hannah, he’s not going anywhere.”

You say with a loud laugh at her not so subtle PDA with Santi. “Sorry.” She said with a swipe of trying to remove her lipstick from Santi’s face; her smile never leaving her face. Frankie hasn’t looked at you at all tonight and you can’t help but wonder what you did wrong. You see those eyes crinkle and that cute dimple when he’s dedicating his attention to everyone else at the table, but disappears when his eyes go in your general direction.

At some point the guys and Hannah walk off to buy more drinks leaving you with Joey. He’s hasn’t hid his disinterest of the night at all even when the guys were trying to include him.

“Why are you so grumpy?” “I’m not.” His deep sigh a dead giveaway to his sour mood. “I’m just not vibing with them that’s all.” His eyes following the guys by single file line as he said it. You assure him that you can leave soon which after an hour or so you do.

Tonight’s events must have tired you out more than you thought because you’re fighting yawns the entire ride to Joey’s apartment. You don’t usually spend time here since he prefers staying at your place, but his place was a lot closer to the bar. The minute you walk inside you walk straight to his bedroom so you can promptly pass out as Joey showers. As you start to pull back the blankets something catches your eye. That’s not mine. Your heart rate is starting to speed up at the thought that’s forming in your mind. You reach down and grab a bra that was haphazardly thrown on the floor. The thing is you’d recognize that bra anywhere because you were there when she bought it; the day you were meeting Santi for the first time. You almost didn’t hear the water being shut off in the bathroom and the footsteps coming into the bedroom.

“Hey, what’s goin o—“

His eyes follow where you’re looking and then back up to your face. He’s not even trying to defend himself or come up with some shitty excuse that wouldn’t work anyway.

“How long?” Your voice is barely managing to stay steady while still staring at the incriminating evidence of your betrayal.

“How long, Joey?” His hesitation gives you your answer. It’s been a while.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales #javierpinme fanfic #javierpinme fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales x f!reader #new beginnings #new beginnings fanfic

[javierpinme]

Lauren!

I cannot stop thinking about our conversation yesterday!

Imagine telling Marcus you wanted a quiet New Years in with sweatpants and take-out Chinese. That man would get so into it! He would order matching sweats for you and him and definitely Missy (who would roll her eyes but still wear them). And then the three of you would pass out on the couch before the ball drops and probably wake up around 1 am. He’d be all snuggly and pull you closer and give you a lazy kiss and mumble “Happy new year, baby,” before passing right back out.

The perfect night. 🖤✨

Cat! You menace (affectionate)!!! Truthfully, I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. 😩 How dare you put this beautiful message in my inbox and making me yearn!

He would be so relieved that you wanted to have a stay in celebration instead of going out.

He just wants to cuddle on the couch. Maybe find some time to spend some alone time with you, muffled by the loud fireworks that would sound off during the night after the ball drops.

Not that you would even get that far. Nope, that was too high of an expectation for your collective old person status.

Missy would definitely grumble about it while you’re all huddled on the couch, but you know the minute you offer up matching grey sweatpants—an ulterior motive—as you sneak a look at Marcus, brow arched and the corner of your mouth ticking up, leaving her no choice but to give her opinion.

“That’s not festive! Give me the laptop. You’ve lost your privilege.”

His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose while he gazes down at you with a matching smile, mouthing nice try, his hand traveling down to your lower back—not moving any further but filled with anticipation.

You try to keep your laugh from surfacing when you hear “grey sweat-” whispered under her breath at your apparent crime and the click clacking of the keyboard while she finds a suitable option. 

Something with a lot more color or if judging by her cheeky smile accentuated by the blue light of the computer screen—sequins.

Too many crab rangoons later, Marcus’s favorite probably, and a couple of glasses of champagne shared between you—sparkling white grape juice for Missy so she doesn’t feel left out. You’re all trying to stay awake spread out on the couch.

The faint voice of the anchorman announces the countdown but it’s fruitless. All three of you are asleep by the time the ball drops, cuddled close due to the chill in the now January air even from inside the house.

Marcus can’t help it; he just needs to be closer even in his slumber so he tightens his hold around your waist and you’re awakened by the breath of his soft snores delicately hitting your face. He wakes up from your amused huff when his glasses are all askew on his face since he forgot to take them off.

You would be just aware enough to pull off his glasses and blindly plop them on the side table next to the couch. Unaware that you completely missed your aim and they landed on the floor instead after a mini search party the next morning.

Oof, please. The beautiful rasp of that man when he would mumble “Happy new year, baby.” 

The gentle scratch of it from being still on the edge of sleep and his look of admiration for you illuminated by the TV still playing in front of him.

He’s definitely a snuggler when he’s sleepy and if you’re not at risk of your lungs being squeezed out it’s not close enough for him.

Oh, but maybe he’d try to give you another lazy kiss before passing out. More of a press of lips as they slide to the corner of your mouth when he nuzzles your cheek.

Allowing himself to finally drift back into a deep sleep with the promise of soft breaths echoing in the quiet living room from the two loves of his life.

#marcus moreno f(r)iends club #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #javierpinme asks