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javier-djarin · 2 years

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Christmas Like It Used To Be: Part 1

"Small Town Christmas"

Ship: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 3,308 Words

Warnings: Mild Language

Masterlist

Gif by @mandah-lorian

Summary: You return home just in time for the holidays, but with something else in mind. You and Frankie are reunited after years apart.

A/N: For starters, I could not have done this with out the wonderful @rebelscumlena. Your support and insight on everything is a godsend! I absolutely love working with you!! I hope you all enjoy this Christmas themed Frankie story. It'll be short, but sweet. I promise! Happy Holidays, everyone! If you want to be tagged, please let me know!

Do you remember when we used to feel like The day would never end 'cause we were just beginnin'? Cuttin' down the tree on Mount Holly Road It was you and me, where did the time go? - "Small Town Christmas" by Rob Thomas

“Where’s your brother?” Frankie asked as he shivered on the steps of the gazebo next to you. “It’s freezing out here, and we don’t have all day. The snow’s supposed to start soon.”

You tucked your chin into your scarf to hide your smile. You’d been carrying a torch for Frankie for a while, and so you cherished these little moments you had with him. Your brother, Santiago, ran to grab the three of you some hot chocolate from the café down the street. He asked the two of you to wait while he ran inside. You both knew it was so he could have a few minutes alone with the waitress, Mel. He didn’t want his little sister or best friend there to keep him honest while mercilessly flirting with her. “We’re never going to get our cocoa,” you laughed, “should we just leave him?”

The three of you were headed back to Frankie’s house for board games and a movie marathon, but of course, Santi had to see if Mel had any plans for the evening. Your mind wandered to different ways this could end if Santi ran off with the waitress and you were left alone with Frankie. One fantasy ended with you finding the courage to tell him how you really felt, while he confessed he had the same feelings for you. You felt Frankie bump your shoulder, and you looked over at him. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” he grinned, easily melting you at the sight, “you just seem so far away.”

“Just wishing my idiot brother would hurry the hell up,” you lied.

He chuckled and leaned back against his arms on the top step. “Can’t stand spending another moment alone with me?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, playfully shoving him. He lightly shoved back before resting against his arms again. Sighing, he let his head roll back, staring up at the sky. You watched him for a minute, relishing in his presence before looking down the street for your brother, willing him to stay at the café. “When did that get there?” you heard Frankie ask.

You turned to see him still staring up. Following his gaze, you saw the mystery in question: a bundle of mistletoe hanging just above the pair of you. Your cheeks flushed, and you shook the idea of what this could mean from your head. He tilted the bill of his hat up and gave you a small smirk. “I guess that means I have to kiss you,” he said.

Your eyes widened for a second before you forced yourself to appear relaxed. “It is tradition,” you said, your nerves causing your voice to shake.

He leaned closer to you with a wider grin. “I would hate to break tradition,” he sighed, leaning in closer.

You felt his hands cup your cheeks as you closed your eyes, his thumbs running over your flushed skin. Slowly, he pulled your face to his as you felt his warm lips graze yours. You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned into his gentle kiss, melting at his touch. The kiss was chaste and too brief for your liking as he pulled away, smiling at you. “Merry Christmas, Hermosa,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes and gazed into his, returning his smile and ignoring Santiago’s shouting off in the distance.

***

You gasped and sat up, letting the paper clips stuck to your cheeks fall to your desk. You blinked several times, allowing yourself a second to gather your wits. You were in your high-rise office pulling another all-nighter. Groaning, you stretched and stood to get the blood circulating again. You opened your door to see your assistant, Phillip, asleep at his desk with a cup of coffee in front of him that had lost its steam long ago. You sighed and walked to the coffee machine in the breakroom, preparing to brew a new pot. You had to finish this report before morning so the account would be closed by Christmas. The fourth quarter partner’s meeting was scheduled for the day after Christmas, and you wanted your presentation to go smoothly.

As you leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish, you pulled your phone out of your pocket: three missed calls and six text messages. No doubt from Chris, your newest boyfriend. Shit, you thought. The two of you had dinner plans, and you completely forgot. Again. You skipped the messages and went straight to your voicemail to hear his defeated sigh over the phone, followed by a long message:

“I get that your career is important to you, but at what point do you realize your life is worth living for more than a job? I can’t keep doing this,” he said, “don’t bother having your secretary call me. I don’t want to be scheduled onto your calendar, and you won’t have time for what I want out of this relationship. It was fun while it lasted. Goodbye.”

After deleting the message, you slipped your phone back into your pocket and poured another cup of coffee. You let one tear slide down your cheek before drying it on a napkin and returning to your office to finish the report.

***

There was a knock on your door the next morning that drew your attention away from the notes Phillip had left you with your morning messages on them. “Come in,” you said.

Pam Kennedy, your boss, entered with a crisp manilla envelope in her freshly manicured fingers. She let it fall onto your desk with a loud thud. Your eyes widened as you flipped through the one account you’d been begging for all quarter. “Is this the -”

“The Morales-Hamilton Account?” she interrupted, crossing her arms, “It would appear so.”

You gazed at her, simultaneously grateful and confused. “Why?’

“The higher ups considered your application for the Senior Associate position and said if you can close this account by Christmas, the position is yours.”

Your jaw dropped in awe. “Wait,” you said, trying to comprehend, “they want me to get the Morales’ to sell by Christmas? That’s less than two weeks away!”

“You said you grew up there,” she added, clearly annoyed with you, “Use what ties you have there to get them to sell, for as little as possible. Otherwise, you can kiss that little promotion of yours goodbye.”

You looked down at the file again. “Consider it done,” you replied, closing the file, “but I’ll have to work remotely from there. These people aren’t going to do business over the phone or email.”

She sighed. “Fine. But remember, two weeks.” She tapped on the calendar you placed on your desk while giving you a pointed look.

No sooner than she was out of your office, Phillip rushed in grinning. “Are we moving floors?” he asked, sitting in the chair across from you.

You handed him the file. “Not unless I close this account by Christmas,” you said, sounding defeated.

He flipped through it with wide eyes. “This looks…feasible.”

You huffed and reached for the file from his hands. “You don’t know these people,” you said, looking down at the all too familiar names. “They’re not going to sell, especially if we lowball them. This bed and breakfast was owned by his grandparents.”

“Whose?”

You looked up from the papers to Phillip. “What?”

“Whose grandparents?”

“Oh,” you muttered, not realizing you’d said that out loud, “he was my brother’s best friend. His family owns this business we’re trying to bulldoze.”

“But they’re going to be rich when this is all said and done.”

You nodded. “I’ll send you the finished presentation for the Brooks Account when I finish.”

“Oh, I’m coming with you,” he insisted, “you’re not leaving me here with Pamela.”

You laughed. “Fine,” you said, “book two tickets for the earliest flight out.”

***

Frankie slung the bag of salt over his shoulder and walked around to the shed where he’d stored the other two bags. He’d broken a sweat and wiped the beads off his forehead as he leaned against the doorframe, gazing out across the estate. They were at the edge of town with the perfect view of the Colorado Rockies. He took a deep breath, feeling the cool mountain air fill his lungs. He was at peace. After his tours in Afghanistan and losing one of his best friends in Colombia, he was happy to retire to his hometown. The Miller brothers frequently visited, renting rooms at his parents’ bed and breakfast. Santiago returned from his exploits around the world with a girl he’d met in Colombia. It was nice having his brother so close, again. However, home felt off without her presence. She’d moved to New York right after college and became her company’s best contractor, according to Santi. But, since she’d been gone, Woodpine had always felt off.

“Francisco!” he heard Marta, his mother, call from the back of the house.

“Just finished unloading the salt,” he said, walking up the porch stairs. He stooped to kiss her cheek.

She smiled at her son and patted his face. “Santiago called. He said he’s on his way to pick you up.”

He frowned. “Did he say why?”

She shook her head and turned to go back inside. He followed after her, grabbing his wallet and keys off the counter. “I’m sure we’ll be back late, then,” he chuckled.

“Well, don’t forget,” she said, “we have guests checking in early tomorrow morning.”

“I made sure plenty of wood was chopped for the furnace,” he said.

Alejandro, his father walked in, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist and kissing her cheek. “Dinner smells delicious,” he said, kissing her cheek again before letting her go.

“It’s just about ready to come out of the oven,” she replied.

They heard the front door open. “Catfish!” Santiago called from the living room.

Marta shook her head. “I wish they gave you a different name, Frankie,” she chuckled.

Santi appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Let’s go. Her plane lands in an hour.”

Frankie frowned at him, confused. “What?”

Marta hid her smile, turning to face her husband with a wink. The corners of his mouth twitched, begging to smile. They’d known all day she was coming home, wanting to keep it a surprise from their son.

“Mi hermanita is coming into town,” he explained.

Santi grinned as he watched the shock overcome Frankie’s face. “Why?”

He shrugged, grabbing a marshmallow off the counter and popping it into his mouth. “I guess to visit for the holidays,” he said between chews, “I didn’t ask for specifics when she called.”

Frankie looked at his parents when he heard his mother giggle. “You knew?”

“Isn’t it a nice surprise?” she smiled. “Santi, bring her by once she gets settled.”

“Mom,” Frankie hesitated, trying to not sound overly excited.

She waved her hands at him to silence him. “Get going so she’s not waiting at the airport for you two!” She forced them out of her kitchen, and eventually out of her house. “Give her a big hug for me when you see her!”

Frankie stumbled after Santi, tripping over a cobblestone that lined their walkway. He slid into the passenger seat, glaring at his best friend. “Why aren’t you taking Cecilia?” he asked.

“She’s never met her,” he said, “I don’t want the airport to be their first meeting.”

Santiago threw the car into reverse, turning around. He sped down the road, turning onto the busiest street in Woodpine. It took them through the center of town, past all the little mom and pop shops and restaurants, the Christmas tree lot, and the small gazebo that was still standing after all these years. Christmas decorations covered the town, making it look like something out of a movie. Santi watched Frankie stare at the old fixture, knowing it held a special place in both his best friend’s and sister’s hearts. He smirked and shook his head. “You know, as a kid, I hated the mere idea of the two of you together,” he chuckled.

Frankie glared at him. “Nothing happened,” he said.

“I saw how the two of you would gaze at each other when the other one wasn’t looking.”

He sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, hermano.”

Santi rolled his eyes. “Right,” he sighed, “and I actually work for Saint Nick.”

“I’m serious,” Frankie insisted.

“Fine,” Santi replied, turning the radio up louder, “live in denial.”

***

You worked through the entire flight, trying to finish the presentation before you landed. Phillip was formatting the slides while you slapped information on them. The two of you were a well oiled machine as you worked seamlessly to perfect this report. You glanced over at your assistant, shaking your head. He was turning into you: all work, no play. You’d accepted the consequences for all of your mistakes, but you realized the young, impressionable man sitting next to you was following in your footsteps. You’d witnessed him sacrificing plans to stay late and work. Knowing you’d regret this decision, you took a deep breath and closed your laptop. Phillip did a double take before he stopped typing. “What are you doing?” he asked, surprised, “Pam said she wanted this report tomorrow morning.”

You nodded. “I know,” you sighed, “but I just need to take a break.”

He frowned. “I’ve worked for you for five years now,” he continued, “and I have never seen you take a break.”

“Well,” you said, leaning back against the seat, “I am now. And you should, too.”

He shook his head and began furiously working on formatting the presentation. “Tell me, Phillip, are you taking time to see your family on Christmas?”

He chuckled. “I haven’t gone home for Christmas in,” he paused to think about it, “five years.”

You’d kept him from his family for five years, and suddenly the guilt weighed on you. It’d been longer than that since you’d been back to Woodpine. Santi had come to New York a couple of times to visit between mission deployments, but the two of you mostly communicated via email or random telephone calls. You knew he’d met someone after his last mission, but you’d never met her.

Just as your eyes started to close, you heard the ding of the intercom and a flight attendant said, “The Captain has turned on your fasten seatbelt sign. We are preparing to make our descent into Denver. I want to thank you for flying with us and Happy Holidays.”

You sat up straighter and forced Phillip to look at you. “Listen to me,” you said, suddenly turning very cold and serious to the younger man, whom you were sure was your only friend, “under no circumstances is my brother or anyone from Woodpine to know why we are really here. I will break it to them when the time is right. If they ask why you’re here, it’s to finish our presentation before you head home for the holidays. Understand?”

He nodded. “Why don’t you want them to know?”

“I’ve known these people for a long time, Phillip,” you emphasized, “if they know why I’m really here, they won’t sell at all.”

You felt the plane’s wheels bounce off the pavement. Show time, you thought. Phillip grabbed your carry-ons and dutifully followed you off the plane. As you made your way to baggage claim, you felt a pit in your stomach. You weren’t ready for the inevitable reunion. You boarded the escalator, patiently waiting to reach the bottom when your phone rang. Pam. You rolled your eyes and answered. “I just landed.”

You reached the bottom and started walking towards Santi the moment you saw him. “The quarterly meeting has been moved up,” she said.

“What? I haven’t even had the chance to reach out to the family!”

“¡Ay, hermana!” Santi exclaimed, as he ran over to you.

You smiled and waved as you anxiously talked into the phone. You froze when you saw that your brother was not alone. His dark brown eyes found yours in an instant. He was still wearing that same hat that he’d had since you were kids with his brown curls sticking out at the bottom. He gave you a small smirk, and suddenly you felt like you were sixteen again, melting at the sight of him. “Pam -”

“You have until Christmas. They want to meet at 7:00 P.M. on Christmas.”

You gave a frustrated sigh. “Alright. I’ll see you then.” You hung up the phone and wrapped Santi in a big hug. You were happy to see him. Despite alienating yourself from your past, it was good to finally be reunited with your brother again.

“Is Manhattan falling apart in your absence?” he chuckled.

You groaned. “They don’t know how to function without me.”

Frankie stepped forward, his grin having spread to his eyes. “It’s good to see you, Hermosa,” he whispered into your ear as he held you close, “we’ve missed you.”

You held him tighter before letting him go, gazing up into his eyes, and suddenly the weight of what you were there to do hit you. You must have been staring at each other for a while, because Santi cleared his throat to break the tension. “Did I see Phillip with you?”

“Phillip?” Frankie asked. You noted the hint of worry in his eyes.

“My assistant,” you said, your eyes never leaving his. “We have to finish a report,” you continued, turning back to your brother, “he’ll fly back once we are done.”

Soon, you were joined by him as he wheeled both of your suitcases over from the baggage claim. He smiled at Santi, shaking his hand before introducing himself to Frankie. Santi grabbed one of the bags from him and motioned for Phillip to follow him to the car, leaving you alone with Frankie. “It’s good to see you, Hermosa,” he said.

You laughed and looked at your feet. “You already said that.”

He smirked and gazed down at you. “Well, it is,” he said, “it’s been a long time.”

You nodded and lifted your eyes to his. “I know.”

You could feel your heart race the longer you stood next to him, alone. You’d known each other for years, and suddenly, you’d run out of stuff to talk about. “Frankie…”

“It’s okay, Hermosa,” he said, almost like he could read your mind, “you needed to leave. There was nothing for you here.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your head. His words stung a little, because had he asked you to stay, you would have. You mirrored his gesture, wrapping your arm around him and walking outside to the car where Santi and Phillip were waiting. “I thought the two of you hopped a plane out of here,” Santi chided.

Frankie glared at him, sliding into the backseat with Phillip. “Take us home, Pope,” Frankie said through his teeth.

“Cecilia set up one guest room,” he said, “we didn’t know Phillip…”

“Phillip, you can stay at Marta’s,” you added.

You glanced back at him, watching him slowly nod, as if understanding the hidden meaning behind your order. You saw Frankie deflate a little, but knew it was only logical for you to stay at your brother’s. Your eyes met his, again, and he gave you a weak smile, freezing time. You couldn’t believe that after all this time you were with him again. Phillip cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. “Shouldn’t we get going?”

You turned back around in your seat, slugging Santiago in the shoulder for the smirk on his face. “Let’s go,” you muttered, “idiot.”

“Glad you’re home, Hermanita.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, pulling your phone out of your pocket to continue working on the presentation.

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mandos-sluts · 3 years

Text

The Visit Part Two

This is Part Two of a three-part series

The Visit Part One

The Visit Part Three

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Smut, dubious consent, fingering, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, hint of voyeurism, mentions of sex work

Summary: All you want to do is forget about your encounters with Din, so you go out with your friends in search of a quick hook-up to take your mind off of it. Upon seeing Din at the bar, you decide to try and give him a taste of his own medicine.

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!! Also we love feedback <3

You awake feeling well-rested. The sleep helped. You don’t feel as bad as you did last night, but you still basically want to crawl under a rock and die.

You can’t focus during your combat lesson with Luke, all you can think about is how much you want to erase the prior day from existence. Sensing your anxiety and distraction, your Master cuts the lesson short.

The two of you walk side by side out of the arena and down the corridor. Your sweating, your hair is a mess, and all you have on is a sports bra and spandex. All you want to do is get back to your room and shower.

You're walking beside Luke, looking down at your feet, barely registering what he is saying to you. You bring your head up and you almost faint at the sight of Din walking toward the two of you.

Panic engulfs you and you feel like turning around and sprinting in the opposite direction, but you’re stuck, stuck walking next to Luke, watching Din stride tall and confidently closer and closer.

“Din!” Luke says cheerfully as the three of you stop in your tracks.

“Hello, it’s nice to see you two again.” Din responds in his low voice as he brings his hand out and shakes Luke’s hand. You put on the saddest fake smile and shake Din’s hand, looking anywhere but into his visor.

“How was your visit with Grogu today?” Luke asks.

“It was great, thank you.”

“Well I’m very happy to hear that.” Luke says as the three of you continue your separate ways.

Your heart breaks at Din’s indifference toward you, and it makes you want to cry. It’s truly as if nothing happened between the two of you. He didn’t get the chance to fuck you yesterday so he went out and got a sex worker, and now, your existence means nothing to him.

Ugh why was he even here? Ever since you were a child the “no attachments” concept was drilled into you. Why is Luke letting this guy visit Grogu? Whatever. You need to do something to get your mind off of the situation.

*************************************

It’s Saturday night and your friends are forcing you to go out. At first you really don’t want to; your experience last night at the cantina was horrible, and you would prefer to avoid it all together. But you sip a few drinks with dinner and have a change of heart.

Instead of dwelling on this horrible situation, you figure that you should do something to distract yourself. Going out with your friends, letting loose, and hooking up with someone else will relieve your tension and hopefully make you forget about your regrettable encounters with Din. Screw him, you shouldn’t let yourself be sad over some random guy who didn’t give a second thought to you.

You decide to pregame the night, and are already quite tipsy by the time you and your friends arrive at the cantina. You look good, like, really fuckin hot. You’re wearing a simple, short, light pink silk dress.

The cantina is not as crowded as last night, but it’s still pretty busy. Your friends grab a table and you walk up to the bar to get a drink.

“Hey, y/n, how you doin tonight?” The bartender greets you.

“Great, thanks.” You say with a soft smile, thinking about what you want to order.

The bartender shifts over and continues talking to someone on the other side of the large Twi’lek standing next to you. “But yeah, wow, that’s really cool. You must get hot wearing all that–”

Just then, the Twi’lek grabs their drinks and walks away from the bar. You turn your head to see who the bartender is talking to, and it is none other than Din Djarin, standing just a few feet away from you. You don’t freak out as much as you think you might, and you have the alcohol in your system to thank for that.

“–Hey, y/n, do you know Mando? He’s visiting the Academy up the hill.” The bartender asks.

You turn to look at Din. “Mando? What’s th– ohhh. I get it. Mando as in Mando-lorian. Clever. Kind of. I mean, not really, but….Later!” You say to the bartender as you stutter your way out of that situation.

Fuck. That was so awkward, you didn’t even order a drink. You're embarrassed, but also hurt. Din didn’t say a word to you, not even a hello. His disregard for you makes you all the more determined to find a hot guy who can distract you from that beskar-covered jerk.

You do a lap around the bar, surveying your options. You spot a tall, handsome boy in a group of guys, probably tourists. Had you not been buzzed, and had that uncomfortable situation not just transpired, you would be very reluctant to just blatantly walk up to a stranger and introduce yourself. But you really don’t care; you know you’re hot and bagging him shouldn’t be any trouble at all.

His back is to you as you make your way to him, he’s talking way too loudly with his frat-boy friends. You gently run your hand down his bicep.

“Hi.” You say sweetly.

The boy turns around and his eyes widen as he looks you over. “Hey.” He says with an eager smile.

You grab his arm and get on your tippy toes, leaning in close to his ear. “Can you buy me a drink?”

“Yeah, a-absolutely!”

You and he walk up to the bar. Din is on the other side, and you notice he’s watching you. You do your best not to look at him, still you can’t help but glance at him every so often, and when you do, his visor is patently on you.

The boy you’re with puts his hand around your waist as you order your drink. “I’ll have a spotchka, please” You tell the bartender.

“Make it a double.” The boy says as he winks at the bartender.

You put your elbows on the bar in order to push your boobs up slightly. Gazing at you, Din observes one of the silky spaghetti straps of your dress fall from your prominent collar bone down your smooth shoulder. You make a point to leave it there a while before pulling it back up.

The bartender brings you your drink and you bring the glass up to your lips. Din watches as the boy puts his hand on the bottom of your glass and tips it upward, trying to get you to drink more. You swallow as fast as you can, trying not to choke as his hand continues tilting the bottom of the cup higher and higher. Din’s fist clenches at the sight of you coughing while some of the liquid falls out of your lips as your mouth overflows with the drink; it dribbles along your throat and runs down your chest. Coughing and trying to catch your breath, you set the drink on the bar as the boy looks at you with a satisfied half smile.

What a dick move. But honestly, you don’t care that he’s a asshole trying to liquor you up, you just need to get laid. In fact, if you’re going to be fucking this pretentious kid, you’ll need to be a little drunker.

“C’mon. Finish this and then let's go dance.” He says picking the glass up and bringing it back to your lips.

You chug what’s left and then, walking behind you, the guy guides you to the dance floor with his hands on your waist. You’re a little nervous as you realize that this area of the bar is closer to where Din is sitting, allowing him an even clearer and more direct view of you. His eyes stay glued to you the entire time you move through the cantina.

The boy pulls you against him and the two of you start grinding to the beat of the music. You can feel the alcohol warm your insides and ease your apprehension. Instead of trying your best to avoid looking at Din, you decide to do the opposite, and stare directly into his visor while you dance on this guy.

His hands are all over you. They make their way from your hips to your stomach, and they dance around your tits, pulling your soft silky dress as they explore your body. His lips are against your hair and he’s mumbling things in your ear that you’re not at all paying attention to.

It’s not too long before you feel his boner poking your ass. You bite your bottom lip promiscuously as you stare into Din’s helmet, the alcohol fueling your staring contest with him. *see gif* You’re relishing in this moment— in the fact that he is watching you dance on this hot guy.

To be honest, though, you really have no idea what Din is thinking or feeling, his helmet and his laid back position don’t tell a thing about where his head is at. It’s not even clear that he’s looking at you, but you can tell he is. You can tell that his eyes are locked on your form.

“Maker you’re so fuckin hot.” The boy whispers in your ear.

Din stands there watching you; watching this guy's skinny fuckin hands roam all over your pretty figure and smooth skin. He watches his hands run down your body and tease your inner thighs, right at the hem of the dress.

Then, Din observes him flick his head up, and turns to see that he is gesturing for his friends to watch. The kid's buddies are standing at the edge of the dance floor, elbowing each other, laughing and smiling, watching the drunk hot girl grind brazenly on their friend. Din looks at the stupid boys. He could kill them all so easily.

As he’s watching them, Din notices a few of their mouths drop, and looks back at you to find the guy you’re dancing on slowly lifting up your dress, exposing your black lace underwear as he nods at his friends and smiles.

Grinding on this guy, you feel slightly discouraged as Din breaks the staring contest to look elsewhere in the room. But then you see him abruptly get up and walk toward the dance floor. You lose him in the crowd, and then feel a large hand grab your upper arm and yank you away.

You trip over your feet but Din's hold on your bicep keeps you from falling forward. He doesn’t even look back at you as he drags you through the mass of people. Most move out of his way as soon as they see him coming, and those who don’t are shoved aside. He drags you out the door into the cold, dark air. Din finally propels you upward onto your feet after he turns into the dark alley next to the cantina.

“Din! What the fuck!” You’re finally able to yell.

“That fuckin guy was lifting your dress up in front of the entire bar.” He informs you in a frustration-laced voice.

“So?”

“So, you're okay with that? He was putting on a show for his friends.”

“….whatever.” You mutter looking down at your feet as your face turns red and shame creeps into your chest. You didn’t even realize the boy was doing that; you were so focused on keeping Din’s attention.

“Pfft, okay, if you’re fine with being paraded around by scummy guys–”

“I don’t need your slut shaming, Din. And speaking of sluts, why don’t you go find yourself one?”

Din pauses for a moment and you can feel the energy around you shift. He creeps closer to you, and you instinctively step back as he closes in on you until you’re against the brick wall, unable to move.

He lowers his voice. “Speaking of sluts, you said you were only one for me. So why the fuck are you letting that guy put his hands all over you?” Din says slowly as he grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the wall.

“Get off of me.” You return, trying to shake free from his grip and push him away.

Din grabs your wrists and slams your arms into the wall by your head, and he positions his knee tightly between your legs, inhibiting your movements completely.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Din purrs in your ear. “Were you jealous seeing me with that other whore? Aww, you left too soon, pretty girl.” He says as he begins rubbing his leg against your crotch.

“N-no...but I will say that it’s very audacious for you— a guest at the Jedi compound— to bring a sex worker back to your room.”

Din scoffs. “I’m not an idiot.” He spits out. “I didn’t bring her onto the estate. She sucked me off in the bathroom and then I left.”

“Well, congratulations.” Is all you can think to say

“I imagined it was you.” Din utters as he brings his helmet just inches away from your face. “Yeah, I imagined it was you on your knees on that filthy bathroom floor, gagging with my cock down your dainty little throat.” He says as one of his hands wraps around your neck.

You let out a whimper at his words, arousal shooting straight to your pussy as he continues to drag his thigh against your crotch.

“And then today, I jerked off the second I got back to my room after running into you and Luke. I couldn’t fuckin help myself, baby. It made me so fuckin hard seeing you like that. It was so fuckin cute how nervous and shy you were. You were panting and sweating, your hair was so messy, you were barely wearing a fuckin thing. I know that’s how you would look after I fucked you.”

His words turn you on more and more, pulses of arousal twitching your cunt.

“And I know that your Master thinks you’re a good little girl, huh. He doesn’t know how much of a fuckin whore you are, he doesn’t know that you asked me to tie you up and fuck you.”

A high-pitched moan flees your mouth, prompting you to take your bottom lip between your teeth as you try to keep it together.

“Come on, pretty girl.” Din growls as his hand slides down to your waist and grasps it tightly. “I said I’d show you how Mandalorians fuck, and I’m a man of my word.”

“Th-that why you hired a sex worker last night?” You say quietly, not wanting to let him off the hook for it just yet

“I didn’t know you were gonna be there, princess. I didn’t even know if I would see you again. I was ready to toss that bitch aside as soon as I saw you, but you fuckin bolted.”

Din moves his hand that was on your throat down to your groin, bringing his knee down slightly to make room for his fingers. You gasp as you feel his gloved digits rub your wet panties around your cunt.

“Come on.” Din breathes in your ear. “You’re dripping wet. You need to get a cock in this desperate fuckin pussy.”

“Ah-I have options.” You counter, trying to hold out for a little longer.

Din scoffs. “That boy in there can’t fuck you like I can and you know it.” He says as he pushes your panties to the slide, exposing your bare, wet pussy to the cold air. Din starts circling your clit as he picks up his head to watch your expression. Your mouth falls slightly open as breathy whines fall out.

“HEY!” You hear someone yell in the distance. “Mandalorian, what the fuck are you doing with my girl!”

Your head turns to see that guy you were grinding on approaching you and Mando. Great.

Just then, Mando starts pumping two fingers in and out of your hole fast. "Ah!" You inadvertently moan out.

“Get lost, kid.” Mando says casually as his arm clearly drives up and down under your dress.

Your mouth falls wide open at the sudden stretch and pounding of your hole, and you try your best to stifle your moans as you dig your nails into Din’s arm. You regrettably make eye contact with the kid as Din conspicuously continues his brutal finger fucking.

“N-no fuck you, we– we were dancing. Who do you think you are taking her from me?” Anger and offense cover the boy's face, pride shaken at the scene in front of him.

Din lets out an annoyed sigh. “If she wanted to go with you, she would. Now get the fuck out of here. Unless you want to watch her suck my cock.”

The guy grunts and turns around to walk swiftly out of the alley.

Din’s pace slows down just a tad, and you’re able to catch your breath. He leans his helmet against the wall next to your head. “Fuck. I wanna break that kid’s neck.” He whispers.

“Ah. You should.” You purr.

Din removes his hand from your cunt and takes a small step back. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s go back to my room” He says. Din walks to the center of the alleyway and then stops.

You take a few steps toward the street. “Okay...let's go.” You say softly, noticing that Din isn’t following.

“Come here.” He says holding his arm out.

Confused, you walk into his arm and he wraps it around you tightly.

“Hold on tight, okay?” He says as he motions for you to wrap your arms around him. Why is he taking you in for this awkward side hug? He just said he wanted to leave.

“Wha–”

Just then you’re lifted into the air, grasping onto Din for dear life as he jet-packs towards the Academy.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Visit Part Three

*************************************

Masterlist

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The Visit Series:

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lavendertales · 3 years

Text

Haunted (Javier Peña x f!reader)

Part 21 of Lay It On Me series**

summary: you and Javier are pressured not only by the entire situation, but over the idea that you might lose your jobs. Yet you seek comfort to each other.

word count: 3.4k

WARNINGS: masturbation, rough, unprotected piv.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: happy early birthday to @librariantothejedi!

gif: @mandah-lorian

series masterlist | AO3 | playlist

Within the following days, you and Javier did everything possible to keep things as cordial and as professional within the embassy. You agreed to return to your no-looking policy and it worked splendidly. You spoke with Javier only when you had to and it made it all easier.

On the outside, at least.

Ever since you both came forward and shared the bits and pieces of yourselves that you had long buried, things somehow managed to feel different between you. When you weren’t talking about catching the Cali godfathers or doing something which might prove effective in your search, Javier was the sole thing on your mind. You wished for nothing more but to be with him, in any way possible, be it physical or emotional, and it had become consuming. If you wouldn’t have been so worried about you losing your job and being exposed to the entire embassy, you might’ve thought that sneaking around with him might be fun and thrilling.

One thing you admired Javier for is his newly renewed patience. You made him promise he wouldn’t say a damn word to Stechner or react in any way that might put both of you in an impossible situation, and Javier succumbed to your wish. He sat put, working as hard as always to end the Cali cartel, though you knew it was killing him on the inside. You knew his instincts and anger got the best of him sometimes, but that particular situation did not call for such impulsivity. It needed to be handled with delicacy and grace.

Qualities which you both lacked.

“On a brighter note, Chepe is back in Cali,” Steve said one afternoon. “Apparently business isn’t going so well in New York.”

“That’s great!” Chris exclaimed. “We gotta figure out how to get to him.”

“Your informant’s intel doesn’t include the full godfather package?” you asked.

“Well—they work for the cartel, but mostly for Miguel. And now that Gilberto is gone—”

“Miguel is the leader.”

“Exactly.”

“What about Pacho?” Daniel proposed. “He’s been in hiding for weeks, but I think we can get to him easier.”

“And why is that?”

Daniel shrugged. “It might be the easier way to catch all three of them.”

“I mean… he kinda has a point,” Steve added. “Miguel is now Cali’s leader, which means he’ll be even more guarded than before, and Chepe is—”

“Vicious,” you said. “Downright cruel and unpredictable.”

“Yeah. So that leaves Pacho.”

“We don’t even know where he could be or how the hell we could get to him.”

“I could try to figure it out.”

The three men stared at you unconvinced. You huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I can do it,” you reassured them, annoyed in the slightest.

“No one’s doubting you, but maybe it’s best if we stick together for now,” Steve said.

Something in his tone made you frown. You knew Steve for nearly three years now and you could easily tell by that point whenever he had something to keep to himself.

You approached him so that you could whisper to him. “Did Javier put you up to this?”

He gulped, clearly unwilling to disclose further information.

“Murphy?”

The look on your face was intimidating and decisive, and even Chris and Daniel felt taken aback by it simply from looking at you from the side. Steve leaned in as well, crouching a bit to whisper back to you.

“Since you and Javi have that… issue going on, he thought it would be best if you wouldn’t go on suicide missions.”

You flashed him a smile, but it was none that predicted anything good.

“Since when do any of you call the shots on my life?” you asked.

“We don’t call the shots, we just—I mean, Javi thought—”

“And I appreciate it very much, but my choices belong to me. I am an agent just as much as the rest of you are. And if I want to go find Pacho, I will do that.”

Steve huffed, visibly conflicted and nervous. “Chris and Dan are gonna meet tonight with their informant and get more intel about Miguel. If that intel is right, we might get a better view at both Chepe and Pacho. Could you… at least wait until the end of the day?”

You shifted your displeased look to both Chris and Daniel who smiled just as nervously, and nodded. “Fine,” you granted.

“Where is Javier, by the way?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know. He said he had something to deal with.”

Uh-oh.

You did not like the sound of that one bit. You knew it couldn’t have been something related to work, so it must’ve been some mission of his own, one that could potentially end in more chaos, and you couldn’t handle any of that at the moment.

Just as the rest left the office, Javier came in, a very disenchanted and irritated look residing on his face. You tried to observe him as calmly as you could, but you felt the anxiety run its maddening course through you within seconds when he approached you, now sporting a very wide smile.

You frowned, utterly confused.

“Why are you hovering?” you asked, noticing his straight posture before you. “What’s with your face?”

“It’s called a smile.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I like your hair.”

“Oh, what did you do?”

Javier looked around cautiously before moving in closer to you. “I… had a talk with Stechner.”

Your face dropped instantly at the news. You couldn’t hide your shock and it was evident to Javier as well; he gently grabbed your arm and stared warmly at you before continuing.

“Just a talk,” he reassured you.

“I know what ‘just a talk’ looks like for you.”

“I was polite.”

“Were you?”

“Yes. I tried to get as much as I could out of him and from what I could tell, he’s the only one who knows and has that tape.”

“He could be lying!”

“I know that!”

Tension was running high and you both felt it. You both let it show for a split second, staring apologetically at each other afterwards.

“I don’t trust the guy, obviously,” Javier continued, now holding you closer to him. “He only talks shit and does whatever benefits him. But I have to trust the fact that he’s the only one who heard that tape because… otherwise we are in very deep shit.”

“I know. We could lose our jobs and lose credibility within any DEA headquarter.”

“I know.”

All you wanted was to bury your head in his chest, let him wrap his arms around you and for his scent—a mixture of cologne, vague trail of nicotine and just his overall aroma—to invade your nostrils and surround you with its comfort and safety. But you were terrified of doing even that, so you removed yourself from under his touch.

“I wanna make things right,” he said, a guilty undertone in his voice.

“I know you do, but… threatening Stechner when he’s clearly in advantage won’t do us any good.”

“Fuck, I just—I hate everything.”

A primal instinct woke inside of him. The very same instinct he had almost always used, the one that was omnipresent when the two of you began taking your anger out on each other. Yet Javier found himself in the impossibility of reacting accordingly, muscles tensing under the realization and body afire.

“If we wouldn’t have been here right now—”

Your eyes locked with his, recognizing the possessive glare he flaunted, and you nearly shivered. You shared that same neediness, that basic human desire to throw yourself into a moment of forgetfulness and ecstasy.

“What?” you whispered, almost begging to hear the rest.

Javier inhaled as if to brace himself for something, when all he did was stare you down, fighting the urge to break down and have you right then and there.

“If we wouldn’t have been here, I would’ve ran my mouth all over your body, hearing you moan and squirm under me, and fuck all of the frustration and pain out of you.”

Taken aback by the indecent confession, you cleared your throat, speechless. There weren’t many times when Javier could outdo you, but he had managed it this time. He looked at you hungrily, clearly just as tensed and frustrated as you, taking some pleasure in seeing you struggle to compose yourself.

“Well, we’re—we’re still here, so... we—we can’t—no.”

Javier smiled, approaching you more until you were backed into the corner of the office, far away from the window and the door, secluded in the darkness of it. The yearning that nested in your chest was now raging, making it nearly impossible to resist. But you had to. You had to keep things cold and professional between you two.

However, the moment Javier’s hand traveled down on your waist and thighs, you gasped, eyes locked with his.

“We’re still—” was all you could get out under his sinfully playful ministration.

“I know.”

You could only stare at his lips, your breaths ragged the more your imagination ran wild, and licked your own in return, biting on the lower one. Javier’s thumb grazed it slowly afterwards, cupping your cheek altogether.

“Meet me later at my place?” he muttered.

“Yes,” you answered almost breathlessly, much too fast for your own taste.

But when it came to Javier, your patience was always thin.

You left the embassy a while later after Javier. You weren’t sure of anything anymore and no place could be deemed as safe aside your apartments—or so you hoped. When you reached to his apartment, you knocked on the door and checked your surroundings several times until he welcomed you inside a few seconds later.

Initially, Javier kept it quiet and poured you a glass of whiskey which you took without a word in return. You could both sense each other’s restlessness and you were painfully aware of how dangerous things had gotten lately. For a short-lived moment, you didn’t even want to do anything but sit there in silence and drink alongside him. But as you stared at his unbuttoned shirt, halfway down and exposing his chest in an ever so tempting manner, your desires changed almost instantly. But nonetheless, you chose not to expose them.

“So what’s the worst case scenario for us?” he broke the silence with the unexpectedly grim question.

As usual though, you indulged him.

“We… die.”

He scoffed, displeased. “I don’t think so. That would be a clear way out.”

“Yeah, okay, you might be right. Then… we get fired, kicked out of Colombia and forced to return to the States… and work in a completely unrelated field than the one we’ve trained for.”

Javier examined you closely, detecting a hint of fear slipping through your otherwise convincing and confident voice.

“Would that be so bad?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I suppose not. It’s just… everything that I have accomplished so far, every moment, every scar, every painful moment, they were all the result of my hard work and determination. I never got anything from anyone. I made myself the way I am today. I worked for myself. I was always there for myself. No one else. And to lose it just because I love—”

You stopped abruptly, realizing that you hadn’t technically said the pesky three words to Javier yet. You could only stare at him, heart nearly exploding in your chest from the trepidations, but instead he sported a warm little smile at you.

“Go on,” he encouraged you.

But upon a closer look at him, you came to understand just how much he loved that. He loved seeing you flustered and struggling to maintain your cold façade, and it drove you insane.

It took you another full minute before you fully realized that he was, in fact, waiting for a confirmation of something he already knew.

“You heard me,” you muttered, feeling struck by the apprehension.

Javier nodded shortly, and you regained your normal breaths soon after.

“You could’ve said something. Why—why didn’t you?”

“It sounded like you weren’t ready. So I didn’t wanna ruin the moment.”

You gained a warm feeling all over your body, the kind you haven’t felt since your childhood, a now seemingly forgotten and abandoned fantasy of the life you once had. You inched closer to him on the couch and took his hand into yours, squeezing it appreciatively.

“I do, I do love you,” you muffled, nervous by your own acknowledgement.

“I love you, too.”

You became suddenly distracted again by the way his white shirt embraced his upper body and partially exposed his chest, and you cleared your throat right before you leaned in to kiss him.

“You should really learn how to button your shirts properly,” you cooed.

Javier took one look down at his attire and chuckled, finishing his whiskey. He was all warmed up right to the point of boiling, and he understood very well that that had nothing to do with the drink or even the temperature itself.

“You don’t like it?” he asked boldly.

He knew exactly the kind of answer you were about to give. He knew you like the back of his hand, but he was all for testing your limits and your patience, already spread thin to begin with.

“You know I do,” you replied, finishing your drink, rushing all too fast to pour yourself another one.

Javier extended the glass to you and you poured him more whiskey as well. The tension lingering in between you two was painfully thick and oh, so different than ever before. It grew heavier and more meaningful than it ever was, and you were both aware of that fact. The silence made it almost possible for you to hear your own heartbeat, unsteady and eager.

“Times were a lot easier for us back when we couldn’t even look at each other,” you chuckled almost inaudibly.

“Pretending to be professional would have been easier,” Javier agreed.

“But now it’s… suffocating.”

“What is?”

You looked at him, that mere eye contact burning you alive in a thousand different ways. Your breaths got stuck in your throat more than they came out, and the subsequent desire for air, for release, came over you like a tsunami.

“Looking at you,” you stated. “I look away however long I can but every single time I look back… it’s—”

“Consuming.”

You nodded as if in a trance, unable to shift your eyes elsewhere.

“It was easier back then because I’d just go home, have a drink, treat myself and… go to bed.”

Javier’s attention lingered on you longer than before and you knew you caught his attention, although unwillingly so. Throat dried up and nearly closed, you continued, risking the rise of pure mayhem.

“It was just me, my drink and my fingers and it was… easier. But it also wasn’t. It wasn’t… the real thing. It doesn’t even compare.”

“What did you think about?”

His interest peaked, and so did both your arousal. You could feel it just as much as he did, and it was the result of fear, stress and frustration, all accumulated within weeks of tireless efforts.

“You. I always think about you. Every touch, every motion… they were haunted by you.”

Javier’s glare turned from soft, chocolaty to one darkened by desire to consummate and dominate, and something about it sent shivers down your spine. The duality of that man, capable of protecting and serving so well to insatiable and eager to please and be pleased, was outstanding and mind-boggling. But if it wasn’t so damn enthralling and debilitating in the most devilish way.

“Show me,” he suddenly muttered.

Your face remained impassible for a solid minute before you determined that Javier was nothing but serious.

“What?” you asked in return.

“Show me how you thought of me.”

His request came as a surprise, but it enticed you as well. You finished the rest of the whiskey for that much needed extra shot of confidence and you stared curiously at Javier.

“Where do you want me?”

“Bedroom.”

Without further ado, you stood up and walked to the bedroom, hearing Javier’s delayed footsteps somewhere behind you. You suspected he was deliberately walking slower to give you a head start and you felt somewhat grateful for that.

You kicked off your shoes and climbed on the bed, removing all of your clothes and spreading your legs in the very dim light. When Javier showed up, his heart threatened to burst out of his chest at the sight of you spread on his bed, hand in between your legs and fingers boldly circling your clit. The image felt forbidden to a certain extent, sinful and yet... beyond thrilling.

“Fuck,” he murmured, but you didn’t hear it.

You didn’t even see him, come to think of it; you were too focused on reproducing the last time you did that and to offer him a show. Your index and middle finger moved in circles over your clit, up and down your slit, already feeling how soaked you were getting. Javier said nothing as he watched you send yourself into a frenzy. You cursed under your breath, eyes closed as you picked up the pace, moving your hand faster with each passing second.

“You look so fucking good like that.”

Javier’s voice got hoarse and dry, unable to formulate proper sentences anymore. His pants felt awfully constricting by that point and his mind was fogged up by the lustful painting you were shamelessly creating for him.

“J-Javi—”

She said my name.

Fuck, she said my name.

Fuck.

Javier’s sanity was beginning to fade away and his blood pressure rose too high for him to think straight.

“Keep going, cariño, keep—keep going.”

You lost yourself just as much as Javier and your breaths came out ragged, motions sloppier with each additional rub against your clit and the occasional thrust inside your heat. You wished for more, something that felt sufficient, but you carried on like your life depended on it.

Until Javier couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Stop,” he urged you. “Stop, don’t—don’t cum.”

You opened your eyes, flustered to meet with his gaze. You felt disappointed in the slightest, but you noticed the sizable bulge in his pants and you came to realize that your little show had its desired effect.

“Don’t you want me to scream your name when I cum?” you teased.

Javier gulped as he hastily undressed himself and finally climbed into bed, hovering above you. The feeling was indescribable; no one’s ever gotten him that flushed before, so affected and ruined, and he loved it to death. He couldn’t help but.

“Yes, I do want you to scream my name when you cum,” he said.

He aligned his cock with your entrance and you let out a soft moan when he entered you, filling you up at last. His pace was merciless right from the start, betraying his impatience. He slammed his hips into yours, grunting with each thrust, the feeling of your wetness and warmth surrounding him altogether. He kept one of your thighs in place, at an angle which flattered the movements and he was able to move deeper inside you and hit that sweet spot. He couldn’t even allow for any cuss words or anything to leave his mouth except for moans and grunts at how good, how comfortable and delicious your body curved under him, as if it was the most natural instinct you have ever developed.

It wasn’t long until Javier finally let himself go and came with your name staining his lips, and you did the same just as his head fell down, forehead meeting with yours. You said his name repeatedly, like a prayer, a hope for something, a sinful delight you couldn’t help but succumb to over and over and over again.

“God, how I—fucking love you,” you exhaled after a while, arms around his neck as he moved slower inside you.

“I fucking—love you too.”

You ruined me in the best possible way.

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ahopelessromanticwritersworld · 3 years

Text

An Unknowing Revelation

I’m trying my hand at this week’s Writer Wednesday hosted by @autumnleaves1991-blog! I saw this photo and was immediately hit by some inspiration for my Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU with Frankie. Thank you for reading, commenting, and reblogging!! 💙💙💙

Word Count: 656

Warnings: Angst, a lot of angst, taking out some anger on an unsuspecting phone booth

Pairing: Frankie x OFC, past Frankie x fem!reader

Frankie stumbled out of the bar, looking for the phone booth situated in the corner of the bar’s parking lot. He and the team had been out for drinks, and they were all having a good time. Though, if Frankie paid attention, there seemed to be times when something crossed the others’ mind to quickly turn their laugh or smile from joyful to wistful. And Frankie was starting to get confused.

What did they have to be sad about when they were all shooting the shit and reminiscing about their deployments? The team had made it back to home soil safe and relatively sound. They all still had their crosses to bear, but nothing that would warrant what Frankie was seeing around the table.

It was as if the whole team was in on something but chose to keep him in the dark. He didn’t like it, not one bit. The guys around that sticky table inside the bar were his brothers in all but blood. When he returned from making this one call, he would demand that they let him in on whatever was going on that they had chosen behind his back to exclude him from.

Frankie finally got to his destination and pulled the door open to step inside in order to close himself off and make his call. He pulled out the change needed, picked up the receiver, but before he inserted the coins, Frankie paused.

All of a sudden, Frankie couldn’t remember what number he was supposed to call. He knew it, he really did, but it was like trying to grab smoke. The more he struggled and fumbled, the less of a grip he had and the further away it went. In his frustration, Frankie slapped his hand on the phone box, resulting in a loud clap of sound.

In that instant, Frankie gasped because he was taken back to a memory where he had heard that same sound, but it wasn’t something he easily recognized. For one, it was hazy and unfocused. It was looking through a kaleidoscope, the picture he was seeing not making any sense at all no matter where he turned.

From what he could tell, he had just left a house? Slamming the door behind him, as he was now storming down the front path to his truck. Trailing behind a woman’s voice, desperately calling out to him. Not shouting though, more as if someone was whispering in his ear. Don’t go, the voice said, please don’t go. However, it had no effect on him at all since he didn’t hesitate to jump in his truck, slamming the door shut before gunning out of the driveway.

Frankie came out of the memory with a gasp, not knowing where that experience had come from. He couldn’t remember ever having a fight with Veronica that ended like that. Maybe he was having a weird waking-hour dream? Frankie would ask the guys when he got back.

Finally, Frankie recalled Veronica’s number and quickly dialed it, trying to commit the flashback to memory. But as he listened to the line ring, it seemed that the more he tried to hold on to the memory, the more it left him. Like the imprints left in the sand at the beach, gently but surely washed away by the crashing waves. Nothing to be done but surrender yourself to the inevitable knowledge that while it was present, it was beautiful but now that it's time has come, nothing can be done to deter its passing.

And so by the time that Veronica picked up and agreed to come get Frankie and the team, he had all but forgotten the strange flashback that had shown itself to him.

It wouldn’t be until much later that Francisco Morales would realize that that particular memory would hold all of the answers in regards to the mysterious woman standing next to Pope outside of Benny’s fight.

Taglist: @dindjarindiaries @jawabear @heather-lynn @scribbledghost @asta-lily @phoenixhalliwell @manda-but-not-lorian @fromthedeskoftheraven @songsformonkeys @spacenerdpascal @funandfangirlingcollide @ladylothorien @keeper0fthestars @agirllovespancakes @buckysalefty @storiesofthefandomlovers @f0rever15elf @buckysbackpack @gamingaquarius @aerynwrites @autumnleaves1991-blog @yespolkadotkitty @stevie75 @codenamewife

#writer wednesday #writing challenge #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #eternal sunshine of the spotless mind au #my writing

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pikemoreno · 4 years

Text

beautiful things

pairing: marcus pike x reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: triggering topics: disordered eating, unhealthy relationships with food, talks about negative body image. it ends with fluff and encouragement and reminders about how illogical all of that is, but please don’t read if it’s going to send you spiraling!

a/n: beautiful, poetic prose this is not. but i had a really rough week with the issue described here and i just needed a self-indulgent lil drabble that i could write in the spare time that i had today. it’s been extremely therapeutic to write and i hope it can be for you as well if you struggle.

disclaimers: this is what disordered eating looks like for me personally a lot of days. it’s going to look different for everyone and in many cases it’s so much worse than this. if your thought processes and relationship with food is negatively impacting your quality of life: please go see a therapist or counselor who can help you through it. and even if it’s mild like this here: please consider professional help so you can live to your absolute best!

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You entered the kitchen to the sight of Marcus standing over the stove, working on his family’s famous chili. You wrapped your arms around his middle and mumbled into his shoulder.

“Gotta love a man who can cook.” He laughed , running a hand over yours as he stirred.

“It’s definitely not me. All my Nana’s doing.”

“Well, you can follow instructions at least, which is arguably just as sexy in a man.” He laughed again and you loved feeling the rumble of it against his back.

“Now that I’ll take.” He shut off the burner, reaching over to grab the bowls he’d already set out. “How much do you want?”

“None for me right now, thanks,” you unwrapped yourself from him, moving away to lean your elbows on the island and averted your eyes to where your hands were clasped.

Your mouth watered once the smell of the simmering spices hit your nose, but you resolutely decided to not let yourself be tempted. Marcus’s brow furrowed as he spooned chili into a bowl.

“Are you sure, babe? I made more than enough.”

“I know. I just ate dinner so I’m not really hungry.” A half-truth. “I’ll eat some tomorrow.” Your smile was thin.

“Baby, your dinner was a protein bar two and a half hours ago.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, confirming that that was true, but not offering any more information that would require you lying to him. In truth, you were dying for some of that chili. It was one of your favorites and Marcus knew that. But you’d decided that you’d already eaten too badly yesterday, so you had to make up for it today and that tempting bowl did not fit into that plan. Marcus caught on, as you’d dreaded, and walked over to put a hand on either side of your face, studying it.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“Yes. Jesus, Marcus would you stop hounding me?” you snapped, yanking away so he couldn’t see the angry tears forming in your eyes. You hated feeling like this. It wasn’t often made so obvious, it wasn’t usually noticed by others. You were good at skirting around the topic, making your habits look normal, not letting anyone on to how you viewed food and yourself.

“Hey-- what the hell is going on here?” You tried to walk away, embarrassment piling onto how you were already feeling. What an asshole move to be so harsh with Marcus when he was just trying to help. He was too good. Really, you saw this coming. You knew that as soon as he caught wind of your insecurity he’d, in his typical fashion, be entirely too caring and supportive and helpful, and yet you just couldn’t tell him about it. You knew it wasn’t a healthy mindset, but you’d rather stay in it than pull him in and worry him, so you tried to run. He grabbed your hand before you made it two steps, admonishing softly, encouragingly. “No. Stay here. Talk to me. This doesn’t seem like it’s just about chili anymore.”

“I need to lose weight. I need to look better. Less…” Words escaped you, so you left it to a simple gesturing of your arms. Marcus looked utterly confused, dumbfounded, horrified. He’s at a complete loss for words.

“Wha- Where did this come from?” You shrugged.

“It’s not the first time. The thoughts are… Sort of always there in my head. I just don’t voice them. They’re not pretty.”

“I see.” Marcus gnawed at his lip for a moment, considering. Several different thoughts crossed his mind in rapid succession. Firstly, it pained him that he never noticed, but now it was all making sense: your little side comments about appearance that he quickly, easily shut down, but didn’t bat an eyelash at? He should’ve confronted them more fully, not letting them slide. Secondly, it terrified him to think what you thought about yourself, the things you seemed to think weren’t worth sharing. He made the immediate mental note to be more consistent in telling you how beautiful he thought you were without your prompting. He could’ve done so much better. Time to make up for it now.

“Come here,” his hand that still held yours pulled you to face him. “Stand right here and I want you to say out loud what you think about yourself.” You looked at him skeptically. “There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Fine. I’m--”

“Say ‘you’re’.”

“What?”

“Say it in second-person.”

“You’re-- You’re-- I can’t, Marcus. It feels like I’m saying it to you.” You crossed your arms over your chest. You already knew where this was going.

“Well,” he patted his stomach, “I’ve definitely put on weight lately. Do I not deserve the same treatment you give yourself?”

“Of course not! I love the way you look.”

“I love you, but you don’t see how that’s totally hypocritical?”

“It’s different and you know it.”

“Is it? Would you ever say anything you tell yourself to anyone else?”

“No, but--” you sighed.

“But what? Because it seems like you think all body types are beautiful as long as it’s about someone that’s not you.” You caught your lip between your teeth. “You’re holding yourself to a standard you’d never hold anyone else to. It’s unfair.”

You groaned, falling into his waiting arms and burying yourself in him. He wrapped around you completely, as if by doing so he might squeeze every bad thought out of your head. He wished he could. You didn’t deserve what you did to yourself.

“This isn’t supposed to be logical. Stop being logical,” you murmured, muffled by his shirt. He laughed.

“Well, as long as you know you aren’t making sense. But… Seriously.” He pulled back slightly and used a finger to lift your chin back up so your eyes met his once again. “That pretty head of yours thinks a lot of beautiful things, but it’s also more than capable of lying to you. Don’t let it. And please let me help. Or someone, at least: a counselor, a friend. Just don’t let the only voice be your own.”

“Alright. I still don’t think I can manage eating right now. But I do feel a little better, thank you.”

“That’s fine,” he emphasized, hands coming to either side of your face, thumb rubbing soothing circles “One conversation is not going to change years of damaged thinking. But I’m here to get you through this, ok?”

“Ok.” He pressed his lips to yours to seal the agreement and when he pulled away he added:

“Besides… My whole life revolves around art. You think I can’t recognize beautiful things when I see them?”

forever taglist: @acomplicatedprofession @hdlynn @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @princessbatears @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives @mistermiraclee @marydjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @miss-leto @spacegayofficial @winters-buck @phoenixhalliwell @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @mrpascals @aerynwrites @jigglemiwa @manda-but-not-lorian @dindjarindiaries @pancakepike @huliabitch @sammiesweet @randomness501 @king-belamy @opheliaelysia @the-silver-iris @lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache @bisexual-space-slut

marcus taglist: @buckstaposition @dirty-dancefl00r5

#marcus pike x reader #bri writes #tw body dysphoria #tw body image #tw disordered eating

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blkgirl-writing · 4 years

Text

“Revealed To You” PART II

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Summary: The air isn’t as light as it used to be after your long time partner in bounty discovers you’re actually a woman. What does it take to break the tension?

A/N: So like, My first part was strangely successful??? thank you all so much! I’m so happy it was loved by other people than myself, haha. I might make a part three, but I’m content with this.

Warnings: Smut, Blowjobs, teasing, Sexual tension, space fucking. The Reader calls Mando “Lorian”.

{Here’s part 1!}

Things had gotten...a bit complex, since mando had seen you, well, dressing.

‘You often found him staring, and definitely not backing away when you caught him. Especially when fighting together,maker, the tension could have been cut with a hot knife. Because of this, you found yourself taking off your own helmet a bit more. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t because you liked his lingering gaze. You imagined what he was thinking, where his eyes caught...

“Where to next?” you made yourself comfortable.

“How’s the child?” He asked, completely dismissing your own question. You rolled your eyes, thankful he was facing the other way.

“Sound asleep. I think that chase tuckered him out.” You sighed. A very close escape. One that tired everyone on the ship. You were sure that somewhere there had to be a stop, so hopefully you could repair some of the scuffs and blown blasters. “Where are we going next, Lorian?”

“Not sure.” a quick reply, curt. Certainly something hidden between those words. You let out a sigh, pushing yourself up from the wall. With a click of your tongue, you grasped your own baskar helmet, carefully lifting it off of your head. Strands of loose hair fell on your face, bun almost completely undone. Setting the mask on the floor, you went to fix your hair, walking over to Lorians side as you did such.

His breath caught at the sound of the metal hitting the floor, shutting his eyes tight, just for a moment.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was a bit muddled, hair pin between your teeth as you brushed your hair into submission.

“Why all of the questions today?” You could hear the sly smirk on his lips. It was so fucking clear. Mando wasn’t as hard to read as he would like to think. But maybe it was all of the years of knowing him.

“Just trying to figure you out, Mando.” You licked your lips, biting the inside of your mouth as you waited for his reply. It took too long.

“And what exactly do you think?”

“I’m thinking you’re distracted.”

“By what?” He replied, some entertainment in his voice. Maybe even a smirk behind that mask of his.

“I don’t know yet.” You hummed, tilting your head slightly. How the fuck you could even think about falling for the masked man was beyond comprehenion. Yet when he sat there, so secure and above all, you couldn’t help that blind attraction. How your heartbeat raised, for him.

Silence fell between the pair, staring for maker knows how long. The air was thick, heavy. Pressing into your skin.

“You distract me,” The Mandalorian stood up, looking down at you, almost looming above you. The meer foot between you felt like inches. “Think I can concentrate since I saw you?”

“You always see me,” You quipped, pressing your lips into a smug smile. Teasing a Mandalorian may have not been the best idea, but it certainly was fun.

“You..you know what I mean.” Ah, yes, he finally broke the contact that had grasped you so tight. Moving his eyes to the side, as if someone might come in through the pilot doors any minute. Suddenly, he was shy. The power back in your hands. You could be so mean as to use your body to force words back into him, but you’d wait for that.

“I dunno if I do, Mando.” You muttered, tilting your head to look at his helmet covered one. Before you could even debate if it would be a terrible idea, you reached out to his chin, Your skin meeting the cold metal, and pushing it to look back at you again. Another moment you had wished you could read his mind. “Inlighten me,”

He muttered a curse, just loud enough for you to catch. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute. Trying, desperately, to not be as turned on at the sight of you as he was.

“You’re much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,” Lorian spoke, words falling from his lips like a prayer. Hands instinctively moving to your waist, settling there with a firm grip. “And I can’t stop thinking of how you’d look beneath me,”

Fuck, you really weren’t expecting that, at least so fast. A shaky breath fell from your parted lips. His eyes fell to them. Wishing so fucking badly that he could rip his helmet off and kiss you til the end of time.

“I like it when you get flustered.” his head sank down to your neck, words whispered so breathily, so close. It sent shivers down your spine.

You made the first bold move, pressing an open palm to his growing tent. A soft moan escaped Lorians lips at the contact. His hips rolled into your hand, begging for more. You smirked at this. Having some sort of power over the man. With that push, you undid the buttons of his fly slowly, taking your time with each one. Moving your other hand to his thigh, holding him in place.

Soon enough, your hand trailed hot into his boxers, pushing them down just enough to let his cock spring free, falling to your stomach. Mandos breath hitched, the cold air hitting him sharply.

“Can I go down on you?” You asked, voice low and soft. You could almost feel him getting harder with every word you muttered. You kept yourself from giggling with biting down on your bottom lip.

“Fuck, yes. Definitely-definitely-” Lorian was so needy, voice nearly trembling as you dipped down to your knees, cloth padding the hard metal below you.

“How long has it been since you last felt this?”

“Too long-” He replied honestly. It had been...years, probably. He had nearly forgotten the feeling. And he certainly thought it couldn’t have been this fucking fantastic.

“Then let’s make this good, huh?” You looked up at him, lips just inches from where he needed them. “Something to remember at night.”

A few stroked, with a gentle clutch, you pressed a kiss to the tip of his thick cock, then took him into your mouth with a slowness that sent him into pure ecstacy. Hollowing your cheeks as much as you could as you tried to take all of him in, though, that was proving difficult. You had maybe an inch left when you couldn't take it any further down your throat, gagging slightly when you pushed for an extra bit.

Lorians gloved hand gripped your hair, enough to cause a slight sting, but not forcing your head anywhere. He was doing his best to not cum right there, breath short and frantic as you started to move, fingers digging into his linen covered thigh, mourth wrapped around him so fucking perfectly. so tight, so pretty as he looked down at you.

“You’re-doing great, Beautiful-” the Mandalorian said between moans, fingers gripping your hair just a bit more as you quickened your pace. Stroking his painfully hard cock with your few fingers at a different speed than your wet mouth, it was kissing him.

And To see a Mandalorian crumble at your touch was satisfying to say the least. How his knees were about to buckle at any moment, hand falling to the control panel to keep himself upright, clutching that corner for dear life. It was new levels of hot.

And then you hummed, just to tease, looking up at how he may react. It certainly drew out a moan, stuttered and tense.

“Where-where do you want me to cum?” He managed to get out, strained and flustered, hips bucking into your mouth, wanting, needing more.

You simply hummed again, caressing his thigh, trying to get him to loosen up a bit, guiding him into orgasm. It didn’t take long after that,when his cum filled your throat, sweet and fucking delicious. Milking ever last drip from him before pulling away with a smile. Looking up at him as you wiped some from the corner on your lip, and sucking it off of your fingers.

You stayed there, for a quiet moment, taking in each others disheveled appearances, heavy breaths. But your hand still rested on his thigh.

“We’re not done yet-” He breathed, running a finger down your swollen lips. “not even close.”

______________________________________

TAGLIST: @tedpicklez @lustriix @maryan028

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iguessigotta · 2 years

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news reporter voice: local writing cryptid spotted thirsting over Elder Prince Lorian, a man far too large for the thoughts he's having about him. when questioned, he submitted this writing as proof that, and we quote, "nothing will keep me from fucking that man" CW: 18+, focus on size kink, slight dom/sub owner/pet vibes, fingering, mention of being gross w/ saliva 100% pure concentrated self indulgence, written with transmasc bodies in mind, no specific terms used.

"Mine." A kiss to your sternum. "Mine." Another to your stomach. Hot breath fanned over you, almost-but-not-quite-touching you where you needed it most. You whined and shifted your hips, raising them up and whining louder when you felt him shift away.

"L-Lor-" you stammered, another kiss to your stomach sent a shiver up your spine, effectively silencing you. Instead, you tangled your hands in his hair and pulled, less dragging him up, more signaling to him to move himself upwards - there was simply no way you could move Prince Lorian if he didn't want to be moved. The man was far too large, your own body far too weak.

Thankfully, the oversized knight was wrapped securely around your finger, absolutely smitten with you. Whatever you wanted, he also wanted. And so, you gave the slightest of tugs to his hair; Prince Lorian immediately melting and moving in your hands, planted one more kiss to your chest before moving himself upward with a huff of laughter.

You felt him smiling into the kiss placed on your neck. He held himself over you - always careful to not put too much of his weight on your own smaller body - one hand sliding down, running lightly along your side. His hand closed around your hip, making you gasp. Sometimes you forgot just how much bigger Prince Lorian was than you. The feeling of his hand covering a good chunk of your body served as an undeniable reminder of the knight's sheer size.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Lorian slid his hand over your hip, across your stomach, and down further, stopping only to lightly cup you. He pressed his nose into your hair, taking a moment to breathe you in, allowing you a sliver of relief in the form of a light pressure from his hand. "Small." He whispered into your neck, curling his fingers. You whined and rolled your hips in a vain attempt to get one of his damn fingers inside of you, earning you a raspy laugh, followed by a kiss on your neck. "Small." Lorian repeated, the rough edge to his whisper making you clench around nothing.

"Mine." Lorian whispered into your neck, finally swiping two fingers through you, applying pressure as he whispered with growing fervor, "Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine mine mine mine mine. "

"Yes yesyesyes yours, a-all yours," the words tumbled out of you without a second thought, further rambling cut short by a moan as Prince Lorian slowly slid one of his fingers inside you.

"Mine." He whispered, covering your face and neck with kisses, holding still to let you adjust to him, "Small...mine."

Before you could reply, he was moving in you, thoroughly destroying you with a single hand. The size difference between the two of you such that you struggled to fit even two of his fingers inside of you. As it was now, Lorian was fucking you just fine with just one, muttering fervently against your neck, words long run-together and incoherent. For a moment you half-wondered if he could get off like this, clenching hard around him at the thought. Lorian moaned and took your shoulder into his mouth when you wrapped your arms around him, sinking your nails into his neck.

Your hips rolled in time with his thrusts, trying to gain more friction. Thankfully, the sweet elder prince could never deny you something for long, and you gasped as you felt the rough heel of his palm grind into you. Greedily, you grabbed at his arm, crossing your legs to lock his hand in and keep him as close as possible, rolling your hips and eyes as you felt him press down in response, providing more friction.

"F-f-fuckfuckfuc-" you sputtered, had flying back as your back arched, "f-fuck Lor- ah- L-Lor I'm-!"

You cried out as you came, the sound partially smothered by Lorian covering your mouth with his, as if he could physically drink in the sounds you made. He continued to move slowly against you, moaning softly when you absent-mindedly clenched around him as you caught your breath.

You leaned up to press kisses to the corner of his mouth, licking up a small bit of saliva that had gathered there. Lorian shuddered lightly as you ran your hands down his chest, desperate to get your hands on him.

Rather than immediately cave to your requests, Lorian took a slow, deliberate breath, swirling his fingers around you once more as he removed his hand. You meweled and grabbed at Lorian's hair, trying to draw him closer, only for him to beat you to his own lips with his fingers, eyes closed as he licked up every last drop of you. You whined, successfully pulling him down so you could taste yourself on his lips.

The massive bed creaked lightly as Prince Lorian shifted, kissing a line down your front and on to your thighs as he settled between your legs. He was muttering again, though you couldn't hear him too well over the blood thundering through your veins. You cracked an eye open as Lorian's mouth moved higher up your thigh. He paused, leaning his head on your leg, breathing hard and open-mouthed on you. The two of you stayed like that a moment, simply looking at each other. Then, Lorian cracked a lopsided smile and let out a small huff of laughter.

"Mine." He rasped, grin stretching wider as a look of realization crossed your face. You opened your mouth to speak, only managing a choked moan as his mouth came down on you.

#prince lorian x reader #elder prince lorian x reader #dark souls x reader #dark souls 3 x reader #BUT WAIT! they cry #LORIAN CAN'T SPEAK!#ok but imagine he loves you so much and so badly wants to communicate that to you that he starts relearning how to speak #and the two first words he relearned #that he can only rasp out in a whisper #'small' 'mine'#i just UUUGGHG imagine iT #anyway yes hi I am still here I'm just not writing much lately #no kids allowed #to the tune of country roads #GIANT MAN #CRUSH ME PLEASE

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plaidpyjamas · 3 years

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UGH WHERE is all the Elder Prince Lorian x Reader stuff???? I DEMAND TO BE FED

#prince lorian #elder prince lorian #dark souls #dark souls 3 #uh please #i can't explain it but i took one look at lorian and decided i loved him #please #give me fics

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passwordispassword · 2 years

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Gay space pirates

#gotg #gotg2 #Guardians of the Galaxy #guardians of the galaxy 2 #Yondu #Yondu Udonta #yondu x reader #self insert #oc x canon #Lorian #Lorn #persona #fanart

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

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first date (Javier x Reader) [smut] {MTMF}

Title: first date Rating: Explicit Length: 3,900 Warnings: Angst, Smut (fingering, teasing, sex from behind, unprotected sex, if you squint there’s a bit of a praise kink and smidge of orgasm delay) Notes: Set a couple days after The Picnic. You can follow the timeline of Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Also, fun note: Yuca was a real restaurant in Miami at the time. Look up the “Mango Gang” for some fun Miami restaurant history. Summary: Javier and Reader go on their first date.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501@fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter

You lingered in the doorway of your bedroom, leaning against the doorframe as you listened to the conversation taking place down the hallway — the way that maybe you weren’t supposed to hear. But the condo wasn’t very large and despite Josie’s giggles and squeals as she played with the new Barbie her abuelo had brought her, you could clearly hear Javi and Chucho.

“We missed out on a lot,” Javier remarked. A sentiment you were all too familiar with. He’d gotten better at discussing the things that got under his skin. You’d always known him to be the type to repress his feelings, bottle it all up until it exploded one day.

You thought of the night that changed everything, that set you both forward on a path that had led you here. The wild-eyed look as he stood in your bedroom, covered in Daniel’s blood. The haunted look he wore until the bruises faded from your skin — the way he still sometimes traced over the invisible marks he remembered.

“You’re here now, when it matters.” Chucho offered wisely. “You can’t keep dwelling on what could’ve been.” He chuckled. “You could’ve been married to Loriane

Javier huffed at that, “Fuck that.”

“Javier.” His father hissed.

“She’s heard it before.” Javier countered and he must’ve made a face at Josie because she was giggling at something. “It’s not like that. I’m not dwelling on the past, I’m just trying to figure out how to make up for it all now.”

“The best things in life are often the things we didn’t plan for.”

Javi sighed. “Yeah.”

Your heart ached a little, listening to them. You knew how much it weighed on Javi. He tried to keep it from you, but you knew. It hadn’t been easy for you either.

“I get caught up thinking sometimes, pops. About what might’ve been. If Josie hadn’t happened. If it had been a one-off thing between us and she brushed me off afterwards.”

You couldn’t blame him, you had thought about that too. More than you wanted to admit. You knew you cared about Javier — you had for a long time. But Josie had been the reason...

“She was seeing this guy for a bit. Early on.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Nice guy; CIA, straightlaced, take-home-to-ma-type. I couldn’t fucking stand the guy.”

Lance. Javier's description of him was spot on. He’d been a great boyfriend and a great distraction about a year into Colombia.

Javier continued, “It had nothing to do with me. We were just partners then — friends. But I hated that guy. Never understood why until recently.”

“You know,” Chucho quipped. “I think you might’ve finally grown up, Javier. I always worried about you. Who you would have when I was gone.”

“Pop—”

“No. Listen to me.” He said firmly. “I never thought you and Lorraine had a shot in hell. She wanted the picket fence life and you wanted… hell if I ever knew.” Chucho sighed heavily, “Something you couldn’t find in Laredo. I ain’t never seen you look at someone the way you look at the woman in there.”

You retreated a little further into the bedroom, afraid they’d see you lingering in the doorway. You missed whatever Javier said after that, his voice muffled by the door as you walked over to grab your jacket off the bed. You shouldn’t have been listening to begin with.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. Javier had insisted that you dress up for the date — which felt ridiculous, all things considered. He’d found a fancy Cuban restaurant in Coral Gables with authentic food from an up and coming chef. Yuca was all the craze in downtown Miami. You’d read a dozen articles in the Herald about it.

The dress was your color and it draped across your curves in all the right ways. You hadn’t actually worn the dress yet; it had been purchased in Colombia while you were still pregnant with Josie as a motivation to get back to where you once were physically. You looked hot and really, wasn’t that the whole reason for getting dressed up for a date?

You hadn’t actually been on a date since… fuck. The irony of him bringing up Lance. He was the last guy you’d been on an honest-to-God date with. After him, you threw yourself into work and guys whose names you didn’t bother to remember.

You pushed the bedroom door open, heading down the hallway towards the living room. Chucho and Javier both turned to look at you and you wished you had a camera to take a snap of Javi’s face. His eyes warmed as they swept over you, his lips drawing into a grin. “You ready, baby?” Javier ran his hands over the tops of his legs before he slowly rose to his feet.

Despite his insistence that he wanted to wear a suit, you had convinced him otherwise. Settling somewhere in the middle, Javier was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a button-up shirt with his aviator’s tucked into the front of them.

“I’m ready if you are.’

You knelt down next to Josie, grinning as she toddled over to you and draped herself over your knees. “Are you going to be a good little girl for your abuelo?

“Yes!” She said excitedly, looking up at you with the sweetest face.

“I somehow don’t believe that.” You brushed your fingers through her dark curls, looking towards Chucho, “Thank you for this.”

“Any time.” He smiled, looking between you and Javi. “Don’t be late for your reservations.” Chucho gave Javier a look. “Make good choices.”

Javier chuckled. “I can’t guarantee that. Thanks again, Pops. For everything.” He remarked as he grabbed his leather Member’s Only jacket off the coat rack. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You know what’s stupid?” You questioned as you took Javier’s hand into yours, walking alongside him down to the car.

“What?”

“I’m so fucking nervous.”

Javier’s shoulders sagged with relief, “Thank God it’s not just me.” He led you down to the car, unlocking the passenger door and holding it open for you. “We’ve been doing this for two years.”

“Right?” You rolled your eyes. “Two years and a kid later and I would love to know why my stomach’s in knots.”

Javier slid into the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “I dunno, but I do know that you’re gonna be the prettiest girl at the restaurant tonight.” He leaned over the center console and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

“Damn, I was hoping for the hottest. I have to go change.” You acted like you were going to get out of the car, but Javier curled his hand around her leg.

“I was going to say sexiest, but this is our first date. Remember?” He smirked.

Yuca was exactly what you anticipated. A bustling restaurant that fully embraced the Cuban experience of Little Havana. You ended up ordering something called Cuban Corvina — a fish fillet with tomato fondue and coconut rice; while Javier ended up with a carne frita style pork shank. Far fancier than anything either of you made at home. In fact, the most adventurous food you’d tried was a toss-up — off-brand oatmeal that featured hatching dinosaur eggs or the dinosaur-shaped chicken that Josie was obsessed with. Everything had been dinosaurs with Josie ever since you picked Jurassic Park up at Blockbuster a couple months back.

Javier grinned at you from across the table, before he grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled your glass. “Are you enjoying tonight so far?”

You nodded, a faint smile playing over your lips. “It’s a pretty nice first date.”

“Just nice?” He pretended to be wounded by that. “I’m glad we made this happen.” Javi ran his thumb over his bottom lip, leaning back in his chair as he watched you. “We’ve got to do this more often.”

“It doesn’t always have to be fancy, you know.” You suggested, leaning an elbow on the table as you picked up your wine, taking a sip. “I’m perfectly fine with a night out at a bar. Like old times.”

“Like old times?” He cocked his head to the side, a brow arching upwards.

“Yeah.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “We’re on this date because we’re both trying to make up for lost time. But we’ve never been fancy restaurant people.” You gave him a look. “This is nice once in awhile.”

He scratched at his jaw and tapped his foot against your ankle beneath the table. “You’re not wrong.” He met your eyes, something almost sad lurking in his gaze. “But we’re good, right?”

“Of course we are.” You nudged his foot back beneath the table, before you confessed. “I heard you and your dad talking.”

Javier blinked at you, before his brows furrowed together with a worried line between them. “Ah.”

You nervously tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, leaning forward against the table. “I wouldn’t have. For the record. If Josie hadn’t happened, but that night did… I wouldn’t have blown you off.”

A small smile played over his lips as he rubbed at the back of his neck, letting his hand rest against the side of it. “Does everyone else worry about the ‘what ifs’?” He questioned, glancing around the restaurant then. “Does that couple over there worry about what happened two years ago?’

“Probably.” You laughed softly, mostly because of nerves. Nothing about this conversation was humorous. “I mean, I get it. I worry too. All the time.” You met his gaze. “I worry that we’re too much alike and completely different in the same breath. It’s not as bad as it used to be, but… I used to worry that Josie was the only reason you were still here.”

“No—”

“I know. Just like you know. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t worry. That I don’t.” You reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “Javi, I just want to be with you.” He tightened his grip on your hand. “Even though having Josie was horribly traumatic for both of us, I even… I can’t even believe I’ve thought about it, but… I even want to have another kid with you someday. Not right now, but one day.”

“Don’t panic.” Javier said quietly as he reached into his jacket pocket.

“Okay.” You arched a curious brow. “It’s not what it looks like, alright. I mean there’s a heavy implication, but…” He sighed heavily as he sat a jewelry box down on the table between you. “It’s not a ring.” Javier assured you.

You released your hold on his hand and reached out to pick it up. It was an older jewelry box, worn around the edges, and the hinge creaked as you opened it. Inside was a silver teardrop necklace with a turquoise stone inlay with a pair of earrings flanking it, similar in style.

“It was my mother’s.” Javier told you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “Part of the reason why my pops came to visit. He wasn’t about to mail it to me.” He smiled at you, though his anxiety was clear to see in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to make a big fucking deal about it. I was just going to give it to you, but this—” He gestured around the restaurant. “Seemed like a good place.”

“It’s beautiful.” You breathed out, not quite trusting your voice as you brushed your fingers over the stone. “Javier.”

“She would’ve loved you.” Javier told you earnestly and you swore he looked like he might cry. “She would’ve loved Josie.”

“I wish I’d worn something that went with turquoise.” You said lightly, sniffing a little. Brushing your hair aside, you unclasped the necklace you had been wearing, carefully putting his mother’s necklace on in its place. You curled your fingers around the teardrop setting, smiling across the table at him. “I’m so fucking glad it wasn’t a ring.”

“You and me both.” He laughed, tapping his foot against yours. “You're stuck with me, baby.”

“Good.” You grinned at him, before you dropped your voice to a teasing tone. “Now, I want to know more about this thing about you hating Lance.”

He groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “Don’t fucking do that to me.” He shook his head. “Fuck.”

“Inquiring minds want to know.” You batted your eyes at him. “Oh, come on Javi.”

Javier rocked his jaw as he glared at you. “You and I both know, you would’ve been bored as hell with him after awhile.”

“Oh, I was.” You shrugged. “When I broke up with him, he wanted to stay friends. He took it so well.” You stuck out your tongue, before taking a sip of your wine. “Not that I think you and I are ever going to break up, but… I want some screaming, a couple doors slammed, and then I want you to try to win me back.”

“Damn, first date and you’re already planning our break up.” Javier said lightly, his lips quirking upwards at the corners.

“Just think of the make-up sex,” You mused, curling your fingers around the pendant around your neck. That was the closest you’d ever come to being proposed to. It was, within the parameters of your relationship with Javi, exactly that. You had his mother’s necklace now — neither of you were going anywhere.

“You have me interested there.” Javier swept his thumb over his bottom lip, brows drawn together thoughtfully.

You smirked. “I thought that would catch your attention.”

———

“Shhh.” You whispered, pressing a finger to your lips as you closed the front door quietly. Javier groped at your ass and you couldn��t help the laugh that escaped you — louder than it should’ve been considering Chucho and Josie were asleep in the house.

He was quick to clamp a hand over your mouth, pressing you back against the front door with a wicked grin playing over his lips. “Shh.” Javi drawled out, taunting you. His lips moved close to your ear as he shushed you again, his breath causing you to shiver in response.

“Javi!” You curled your fingers around the back of his neck as you looked up into his eyes. It was dark, but not too dark that you couldn’t see enough of him.

“How do you feel about fucking on the first date?” He questioned, leaning in to catch your bottom lip between his teeth.

“I feel like we are not alone in the house.” You whispered, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“Then we better be quiet.” Javier smirked as his hand slipped beneath the hem of your dress, dragging up along your inner thigh. He leaned in to kiss you, swallowing up the sound that rose up in your throat as his fingers skimmed over the damp crotch of your panties. You pressed your shoulders back against the door, rocking your hips forward into his touch.

Your mouth slanted over his, your tongue playing over his bottom lip before he granted you access. His tongue slid out to meet yours, tilting his head as he deepened the kiss. You moaned wantonly against his lips as he pushed aside your panties, pressing two thick fingers into you. It was a fleeting sensation, he pumped his fingers in and out of you — just enough to make you burn, before he abandoned you.

“Javer.” You seethed as you slumped back against the door, watching the way he brought his fingers to his lips and made a show of tasting them. “You’re such a bastard.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, smirking at you. “And you love me for it.” Javier jerked his head in the direction of your bedroom, holding his hand out for you.

You let him guide you down the hallway to the bedroom, trying to keep your steps quiet as you crept past Josie bedroom. Fortunately, she’d gotten better at sleeping through the night. But she was still a light sleeper.

Javier was on you the second he got the bedroom door shut and locked. Guiding you back towards the bed with a series of desperate touches. He dragged your jacket down your arms while you kicked your shoes off beneath the bottom of the bed. Your hands pried his belt off, sliding the belt through the loops, before ghosting your fingertips over his hardened length beneath his jeans.

His hand slid around behind you, dragging the zipper of your dress down your sides. He unwrapped you, abandoning the dress to the floor beside the bed. “Fuck.” Javier swore through his teeth as he stared down at you.

He brushed his fingertips over your collarbone before trailing downwards, running them between the valley of your breasts. “Look at you, baby.” He rasped out as he cupped your breasts through your bra, palming them roughly.

You moaned quietly, gripping tightly at the fabric of his shirt. “I bought it just for you.” You had. Most of your wardrobe was practical, but you’d slipped away to the mall to buy something nice just for the date.

Javier pressed his knee between your thighs on the mattress as he draped himself over you. “Aren’t I a lucky man?” He muttered as he leaned down to brush his lips over the swell of your right breast, dragging his thumb over the pebbled peak of your left nipple. You arched your back, grinding down against his leg — needing friction. Needing more.

Another moan escaped you and Javier was quick to press his hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. His eyes flashed to meet yours, dark and clouded with lust. “You’ve got to be quiet, baby.” He warned you, pinching both of your nipples through your bra. Desire lanced through you hotly and you bucked against his knee. Your panties clung to your slick cunt, the fabric not enough as it dragged against your throbbing clit.

“Are you going to be quiet for me?” Javier questioned as he removed his hand from your mouth, fingers sliding down to lightly wrap around your throat. “I know you can be a good girl.” His praise made you whimper against his hand. He must’ve known how badly you needed to be touched. He removed his knee from between your thighs and replaced it with his hand. He peeled your panties down your thighs, tossing them aside. He released his hold on your throat, taking a step back to look down at you.

Javier ran his hands along your inner thighs, parting your legs wider as he trailed them higher. You bit down on your bottom lip, resisting the urge to cry out as he pressed two fingers into you. “Answer me, baby.” He drawled out, “Are you going to be quiet?”

“Yes.” You gasped out, chest heaving as you tried to keep your breathing steady. But it was hard to focus on anything other than the way he curved his fingers within you, the way he dragged them over that sweet spot within you. You trembled, looking up at him. “Javier, please don’t tease.”

He leaned over you and caught your lips, kissing you fiercely with his fingers still buried within you. He pulsed them in and out of you twice more before he abandoned you yet again. “Roll over.” He ordered softly, brushing his slick finger over your bottom lip. “Please, baby?”

You nodded breathlessly. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you rolled over onto your stomach. Javier pulled you towards him, helping you steady yourself on your feet as you leaned over the foot of the bed. He stroked his hands down your back, over your hips, before he took a step back to divest himself of the rest of his clothes.

“You look so fucking gorgeous.” Javier drawled out. You glanced back over your shoulder, your eyes sweeping over his bared flesh. Desire pooled hot between your thighs as your gaze fell to his erection resting hard against his belly.

You curled your fingers, twisting the bedspread beneath you. Javier’s hands found you again, gripping tightly at your hips as he guided his cock to your center. He didn’t tease you, he spared you both that torment.

“Javi.” You moaned quietly, hips rocking back against him as the full length of his cock settled into you. You clenched around him, urging him to move.

Javier’s grip tightened at your hip, his other hand finding purchase in your hair. He drew out nearly completely before thrusting back into you, picking up the pace of his movements. His cock driving into you again and again.

You pressed your face against the blanket, muffling the sounds that threatened to escape you. The moans, the whimpers, the soft cries of pleasure. He had you careening towards the edge, your body tightening around him. Right as you reached the precipice of your release, he withdrew — leaving you empty. Your cunt throbbed, desire coiling hotly in your belly.

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, gathering you up in his arms. Javier rolled you over, keeping an arm wrapped around you to draw you in towards his chest, holding you to him as he reached between you, guiding his cock back into you.

It took two thrusts before your orgasm took hold of you, your cunt clenching around his cock, dragging out his own release from him. He sank his fingers into your hair, cradling the back of your head as his lips found yours, kissing you like his life depended upon it.

In the wake of your pleasure, you both managed to find your way to the top of the bed, sinking in beneath the covers. You curled into his side, cheek resting against his chest, your arm draped over his stomach.

Javier’s fingers played with your hair, traced fingers over your bare back. “Think you might go on a second date?” He mused quietly.

You tilted your head to look up at him with a grin, “I’ll have to check my schedule.” You teased lightly, brushing your fingers over his jawline before you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. “I hear there’s a great place that serves dinosaur chicken nuggets and mac and cheese.” You whispered against his lips. “It’s close too.”

Javier hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll have to make us a reservation.” His fingers ghosted over the necklace where it laid against your chest.

“I’d like that,” You reached up and dragged your fingers through his hair, kissing him again. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

You brushed your nose against his, stealing another kiss. “I love you.”

Javier curled both of his arms around you and pulled you in close. “Love you too, baby.”

Maybe you would both keep trying to make up for lost time, maybe that was just part of what your relationship would always be. But something about tonight had you convinced that you could move forward. That his mother’s necklace was the symbol, the token, the unofficial proposal that harkened the beginning of letting go of the past. You would always wear the wounds like invisible scars — but you didn’t have to let them define your relationship. Neither of you could let your self-inflicted damage keep you from moving forward. Together.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena #pedro pascal x reader

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