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christinamadsen · 5 days ago

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Christmas in Jackson - Chapter 11

Summary: Joel takes Y/N out for the day where the two of them get closer than Joel ever expected.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61159651/chapters/164017267

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut (More So Making Love), Unprotected P in V, Loads of fluff, romantic moments, talk of suicide, past depressing thoughts, etc.

Notes: This is a very fluff filled chapter, in my opinion. Thank you to those that put up with me and still read! If you'd like to read previous chapters, check them out here.

“You know, when you told me you had plans for Christmas Eve, this was not what I was expecting,” Y/N stammered standing at the edge of the natural hot springs pool that Joel had brought her to. After having breakfast together, Joel instructed her to dress warm and requested her to wear a bathing suit underneath her clothing. Those were two very different requests that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to her. It was strange when considering them, but she didn’t fight him on it. Once she was done getting ready, they went back to Joel’s place, got his snowmobile and drove a little out of town to an area where they parked. What was surprising about Joel’s plans was that in ordered to get where he wanted, they couldn’t drive there. No, they had to snowmobile along a path to get there.

At first Joel didn’t tell her what they were doing. He wanted it to be a surprise, but she didn’t complain. As far as she was concerned, she liked being on the snowmobile with Joel. Getting to wrap her arms around him and enjoy the beauty of the nature that surrounded them sounded like a good idea to her. The first time was nice and today was just as beautiful as then. Unlike last time, things were a little quieter. It was just the two of them. No one else was really on the path to join them, so it was very relaxing. It calmed her getting to do something like that with Joel.

It was when they ended up here that surprised her. A natural hot springs in the middle of nowhere? It wasn’t every day she ended up at a place like this that was very remote and isolated to go swimming outside in the middle of winter. What was even more astonishing was that no one was actually there. It was just the two of them.

There was a chill that surrounded her where she was standing. Hell, she was in her bathing suit after all. Standing on the edge with her toes digging into the snow that surrounded the outside of the pool made this feel so surreal. If you were outside like this in the winter where she was from, people would have called you crazy. Right now, she was somewhere much colder and this was apparently a normal thing for people, “When we got on that snowmobile I would have never pictured this.”

“Well, I remembered you talking about the hot springs when you first got here,” Joel reminded her, stepping in beside her as he pulled his t-shirt from his body and tossed it aside on one of the lounge chairs that was beside the pool. “So, I thought why not spend our morning doing exactly that and getting some time to relax. Together.”

“This is just so hard to wrap my mind around,” she claimed, looking down at her bare feet in the snow. Wiggling her toes moved some of the snow. A rumble of an amused sound escaped Joel from beside her with him wrapping his arms around her loosely from behind. “Doing this seems insane.”

“Well, no one ever said I wasn’t,” he joked, releasing her with a smirk. Taking a running start, he jumped into the pool causing the water to splash outwards toward her. Gasping out, she jumped back and away from the pool, surprised that the water actually felt warm. Jumping up from under the water, Joel threw his head back and then slicked his fingers through his wet hair giving her a big, cheesy smile. “Come on. Get in. You’ll be warmer in here than you will be out there.”

Stepping as close as she could to the edge, she took one step forward and dropped down into the water. At first, she expected her body to tense up, but it really was surprisingly warm. It was something her mind couldn’t comprehend. All around them was the snowy scenery, yet here they were in the water comfortable, “It feels nice, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, lowering her body further down into the water. Swimming out toward the center of the pool allowed her to truly experience the whole thing. This was just a little area in the middle of nowhere. They were surrounded by snow covered trees and the mountains that circled them in. It was their own natural paradise that they didn’t have to share with anyone in the moment. It was a stunning view, one that didn’t always feel real, but it was. Out in nature like this, she felt like she was at the center of a painting and she loved it. New York was beautiful for her, but this wasn’t something she could experience in the city. Pools were hard enough to find during the summer, so this blew her away.

“Whatcha think?” Joel wondered, swimming out closer to her noticing that she was taking everything in, seemingly not wanting to miss a thing. There was a warmth growing inside of him that she was so astounded by everything. For him? Jackson was just a normal everyday thing. But for her? This was all so new and he could tell that she was amazed by it.

“This is incredible,” she blurt out, her eyes still gazing upon the nature that surrounded them. If she would have known something like this was here, she would have likely tried to persuade someone to bring her here sooner. “When I looked at the pamphlet for the hot springs, this wasn’t what it looked like. This is much nicer.”

“You probably looked at the brochure that was modeled to appeal to tourists,” he explained to her, swimming around and resting back in the water giving his body a moment to float at the top. “This is one they advertise, but a lot of people get nervous that you can’t just drive here. They prefer the one that is more like a water park.”

“This is so much better,” she noted, gazing back at him to watch him floating around behind her. His eyes were closed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat while he calmly just lounged in the water. “I can’t believe no one else is here.”

“About that,” he began, lowering back down into the water and swimming out toward her to move in behind her. “It’s usually closed on Christmas Eve, but I had someone who owed me a few favors.”

“I keep hearing that,” she commented with a tiny laugh, closing her eyes when she felt him leaning in to deposit a small kiss in over her bare shoulder. The contrast of the cool air to his warm mouth sent chills down her spine and she sucked in a sharp breath of air. “A lot of people seem to owe you.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you have multiple talents and you are able to help people out around town,” he slurred, continuing to pepper kisses up over her shoulder toward her neck. Nipping faintly had her letting out a loud, shuddering breath and it had him snickering against her flesh. “I just thought you’d like to be somewhere we could have some alone time and relax. Where my brother won’t come barging in to lecture us.”

“I’m not complaining,” she defended herself, leaning her head back against Joel’s shoulder and closing her eyes. “I just feel bad that you are wasting so many of your favors on me. You could probably use them for something better.”

“Nonsense. Nothing is better than you,” he countered almost immediately, without even taking the time to consider it. Hearing that had her face flushing over with warmth and it was so very nice to hear in the moment. “Being able to give you a moment that makes you happy? What could possibly be better than that?”

Turning in his arms, she reached out to palm in over the side of his face with her eyes locked on his. Moving forward, she stole a desperate kiss from his lips. Each sweep of her lips over his had their kiss growing in strength and when Joel went to pull away, her fingers curled around the back of his neck to bring him back. Releasing a tiny laugh against her lips, he continued the kiss allowing her to have him close. There were so many things she wanted to say in that moment, but she didn’t know if she should, so she just kissed him passionately.

“You take my breath away, y’know that?” his southern drawl hummed with him pressing his forehead to hers so they could cherish one another after they stopped kissing.

“I don’t know if I can explain what you do to me,” she whispered, reaching for his hand to place it in over the center of her chest. Looking between them, he gave a smirk before his chocolate-colored eyes lifted to connect with hers again. “You make my heart feel so full. Everything you say makes me feel so happy. You make me feel important and no one has really done that in my life. Not for a very long time.”

“You should know you are important,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose in against hers and it made her heart skip a beat. “You shouldn’t give me all this credit for calling in favors Y/N. They would have just sat there stagnant if I didn’t have you in my life. I reckon I was a very boring, dull person before you came into my life.”

“You deserve nothing but credit,” she hushed him, stealing another quick kiss from his lips that pulled out a tiny smile from him. “I hope you like doing things with me. I’d hate for this to be a bad thing.”

“I like being with you, so nothing involving you can be a bad thing,” he assured her with a wink, leaning into her touch with her brushing her fingers through his wet hair. “Although, this whole relationship is making people realize I’m not the shut in that I pretend to be. They aren’t as scared of me as they used to be. They think I’m approachable and view me more human.”

“That’s kind of cute,” she snickered provoking his head to tip side from side with an amused rumble escaping him. “I’m sure they are still very scared of you. They just see there is a softer side of you. Plus, they probably still think you’re crazy. You’re in a serious relationship with someone you met a week ago. They will continue to judge you.”

“I do suppose you’re right about that,” he sighed loudly, leaning in to meet her in another kiss. It was a small town and he knew Jackson was exactly like what she was saying. “But it’s a good kind of crazy. And I guess it’s also a good thing I don’t give a shit what these people think of me.”

“I’m glad you don’t,” she whispered, stroking her fingers through his wet hair getting a small growl to escape his lips. “You’re the only person I care about pleasing. Everyone else can fuck off.”

“Same sentiment,” he snickered, the bridge of his nose wrinkling further. “What did you think I was gonna do today? You said you were surprised these were the plans I made.”

“I don’t know,” she thought aloud, clearing her throat when she thought about the town. “My first thought is ice skating. Or going to a Christmas market or something…”

“You can do that in New York City,” he reminded her with a grunt, biting down on his bottom lip. Sure, that was the typical Christmas plans people would have out here, but he wanted to make this special for her. Do something that she wouldn’t normally be able to do. “I guess if you wanted to be predictable, we could go make a very beautiful snowman out in the woods. It would probably be a lot cleaner that it would be in New York City. I just wanted to do something for you that was new.”

“I’d say you delivered,” she complimented him, letting out an amused sound when he grabbed a hold of her hand. Moving back toward the edge of the pool, he pulled her in over him eliciting an amused laugh from her. Tracing her fingertips over the side of his face, she let them linger over the scar that was near his temple. It had his eyes fluttering to a close with a broken breath escaping his lips. “You know, you’re the first person that’s ever had me reconsidering my life decisions.”

“Oh?” he breathed out, his eyes lazily opening as she spoke. Leaning into her touch as she palmed in over the side of his face had her smiling.

“You make me want more,” she informed him, sweeping her thumb in over his chiseled jawline. “I knew how lonely I was back in New York, but being here with you? It’s made me realize that I’m not happy with how my life was before I got here. I mean, I think I knew that, but being here with you? Getting to do all of these things and see the world differently, it makes me yearn for more of that. I want more for myself.”

“Well, you’re the first person that makes me feel like I actually want to be here,” he claimed, lifting his hand enough to caress in over the back of her hand. Curling his fingers around her hand, he got her to lower it before he brought it up to press a tender kiss over the back of it. “I’ve told you what you’ve done for me, but…”

Pausing, Joel cleared his throat and then pointed toward the scar that was on his temple, “I did that to myself.”

Instead of assuming, she stayed silent with Joel working up the courage to tell her what he wanted to, “I didn’t want to be here anymore. I was so depressed and miserable that I just didn’t think that life was worth living anymore. I couldn’t see the point. Simple as that. I reckon that makes me greedy, but I didn’t see any other way out. But? At the last minute? I turned my head. I don’t know why, but…”

Pausing, he felt her leaning in to press her forehead against his and he let out a tremoring breath. Biting back on the emotions that were fighting so hard to escape him, Joel’s hand caressed in over the side of her neck with his thumb sweeping at her jawline, “You make me want to be here. You make me happy that I didn’t…”

“I’m happy you’re still here,” she pressed a loving kiss against his forehead having him tremoring before her. Stroking her fingers at the back of his neck, she took time to consider things before her lips parted. “You are worth so much more than you think you are.”

“I’m not,” he refused, shaking his head and biting down on his bottom lip with the way she cuddled her face in against his. Closing his eyes, he felt comforted with the way that she was touching him. Each kiss she placed over the side of his face let him know that she cherished him. That he meant something to her. “You deserve so much better than me.”

“Nothing is better than you,” she corrected him, a lump developing in her throat. It was true. In her eyes, Joel was perfect. Leaning back enough, she could see that he was emotional. Swallowing down hard, she tried to gather her sense of bravery. “I’ve been thinking a lot about things.”

“Oh, that’s never a good opening statement,” he frowned, panic flooding into his features and she immediately hushed him.

“No,” she shook her head, placing her fingertips over his lips to stop him. Not wanting his fears to eat away at him, she knew that she just had to come forward and say what she was thinking. “I think I want to move out here to Jackson.”

“You…you do?” he stammered, his head tipping back to stare out at her with a surprised expression. It looked as if he didn’t believe her in that moment. “But I thought New York City meant everything to you. What about the brownstone?”

“I do love New York City, but? I can’t imagine being separated from you. Not after everything,” she admitted to him, hooking her fingers with Joel’s. He was shaking and she squeezed her fingers tightly around his. “I love my parents and I know that’s the last part of them that I have, but I don’t think they would want me to sit there hanging onto a memory of something that truthfully does nothing to make me happy. It just confirms for me how alone I am. How alone I’ve always been. With you? I don’t hurt anymore.”

A broken sound escaped him. It was obvious that he was doing everything in his power not to have a complete breakdown over the emotional moment that they were having with one another, “I’ve been broken for so long and the world continued to shatter my soul. But you heal the broken pieces of me. The parts I never thought would heal. I hate to steal your lines, but with you? Here? It feels like home. Like somewhere I’m meant to be. And wherever you are? That is where I long to be.”

“Yeah?” he felt a lump growing in his throat, both emotional and excited about her decision. Giving him a nod had him pulling her in to capture her lips in a kiss that took her breath away. It was passionate and showed just how happy it made him that she was even considering that. When they broke away, he cuddled his cheek in against hers and let out a shuddering breath. “I…”

Joel pulled back and shook his head, “I don’t want to scare you away, but I have to say this. It’s been eating away at me, but I’ve never felt it more than I do now. And life has proven one thing to me. It’s short. You never know what’s gonna happen. So you need to hear this.”

There was a long pause. Joel had a hard time looking at her, but by the time he finally brought himself to say what he wanted, he made sure that his eyes were locked on hers, “I love you.”

Hearing those words had her lips parting, her breathing growing louder. Leaning forward, Joel pressed his forehead to hers, “I’m sorry this wasn’t a more romantic moment where I was making love to you, but I can’t hold it in. I’ve held it in because I thought it was too much, but I love you. And keeping it locked away isn’t going to change it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t keep it locked away,” she wrapped her arms snugly around Joel’s shoulders getting him to gasp at how firmly she did it. Curling his fingers around the back of her neck, he smirked and leaned in to bury his nose at the side of her neck. “I love you too, Joel Miller.”

“You do?” he was surprised to hear the same words repeated, with her turning her head slightly to stare out at him.

“So fucking much,” she blurt out drawing forth the most charming, raspiest laugh from him. “And you’re crazy if you don’t think this is romantic enough.”

“It’s not like the movies and I know how much you yearn for that kind of thing,” he frowned, his heart hammering in his chest at her confession of love.

“This is better than the movies Joel,” she declared, nodding her head with her trying to convince him that this was perfect just the way it was. “I love you and I can’t think of a better place to be than right here, right now.”

“You have to know, you’re a very special person,” he informed her, palming in over the side of her face. Admiring her in that moment, he released a long exhale and shrugged his shoulders. “I have a very hard time saying that word. I didn’t know if I could say it anymore. Because the word scares me. Not because I don’t want to love, but because I haven’t allowed myself to love. Everyone I love gets hurt and…”

“I told you, I’m not breakable Joel. I’ve gone through hell and back, but I’m still here,” she tried to promise him, hushing his fears about her being in his life.

“And you’re sure about this whole moving to Jackson thing?” he confirmed with her, his body still tremoring over this whole thing. Truthfully? He was scared to tell her that he loved her and he couldn’t believe he actually had the courage to do it. Nodding her head once told him that she did in fact mean it. “I reckon my place is big enough for you to move in if you’d like? Unless of course you’d like to find somewhere where you’d have your own space?”

“Are you sure you’d be okay with me moving in?” she wondered, knowing that they were moving incredibly fast with things. The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm Joel to the point that he would regret having her around.

“I’m the one that suggested it,” he snorted, tipping his head to the side causing a warmth to flood into her face. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want it. I very much would like having you move in with me. Having your face be the first and last thing I see every day sounds like the perfect thing to me.”

“If you wouldn’t have said I loved you, I would have blurt it out at some point here,” she chuckled, getting him to smile at the way she appeared to be getting emotional in the moment.

“I hope I have enough space for you,” he thought aloud, considering her home in New York City as opposed to his home in Jackson. “I know you own a big place in New York, but I can move things around and…”

“There is enough space for me in your home, if you’re okay with it,” she explained, her throat going dry at the thought that they were already planning on moving in together and told one another they loved each other. It wasn’t a fear. It was an excitement. One she didn’t expect, but it was there. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my job. Nor do I know if I will be able to find work here.”

“I think it’s fairly obvious that you would be able to get a job here easily. We don’t have the best healthcare out here. You could probably get a job at the nearest hospital or even start your own medical office if you wanted,” he thought aloud thinking back to her telling him last night about the people stopping her in the streets with medical questions. “You’ve probably seen the hospital. It’s less than a mile away from the inn. They’d be lucky to get a doctor like you there.”

“So just like that, huh?” she breathed out, a tiny smirk pressing in over her features when he gave her a confident nod. “People are going to think we are nuts for doing something like this. You might get sick of me if I move in with you.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he hushed her, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, he watched her kiss at the pad of his thumb and it made him smile. “We might be the talk of the town for a while as long as you could handle that.”

“After the way they were those first few days I arrived in Jackson? I think I can handle anything,” she snickered with him leaning in to nuzzle his nose in against hers. “Do you think it’s healthy how attached we are to one another?”

“You’re the doctor, you tell me,” he slurred, pressing faint kisses at the side of her face. Leaning into them, she closed her eyes and liked the way that this felt. Getting to be in his arms, sharing time together in a place like this? It was like something out of her dreams, but this was real. And that made this all the more special for her. “If you ask me? I don’t care what’s healthy. I just know how you make me feel and I don’t want that to stop.”

“Good enough for me,” she brought their lips together in another kiss that probably lingered on for far too long. When they came here, she didn’t expect them to spend most of their time cuddled up to one another kissing each other, but that’s what they did. They wanted to be near one another. Joel was crazy for not thinking this was romantic because it was. Being wrapped up in each other’s arms telling the other they loved one another? It was perfect. “You know, you brought me here to enjoy the scenery, but instead I’ve been wrapped up in you.”

“You got a few minutes in,” he hummed against her lips causing her to laugh which vibrated against his bottom lip. Turning her in his arms, he nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck and allowed her to take some time to appreciate their surroundings. “I know you love New York, but I think you’re starting to see what makes this place so special. How magical it can really be.”

“Yeah, it’s all very beautiful,” she alerted him, reaching to hook her fingers with his beneath the water. “But the thing that draws me here isn’t this, although it is special. The thing that draws me here is you. I think I could be anywhere in the world and I would be okay as long as I had you with me.”

“Every word you say makes me fall in love with you even more,” he whispered, pressing kisses against the side of her face. How affectionate he was with her surprised even Joel himself because for so long he had a hard time showing it. His relationship with Tess proved that and it was a long relationship. It wasn’t something he was fully honest with Y/N about, but how fast he was hooked on Y/N really did astonish him. “We will probably have to get out soon. There is another place we have to get to by evening.”

“That’s probably a good idea because my fingertips are starting to look a little sad,” she leaned further back against Joel, resting her head back against his collarbone. Cuddling her close to him, he gazed up at the natural beauty around them and sighed loudly. “What is it?”

“Do you really think you could be happy out here? If you moved in with me?” he was genuinely curious, his worries starting to eat away at him when she gazed back over her shoulder at him. “I just mean, you really loved New York City and I don’t want to take you away from something that you love. Something that means a lot to you. I know I can be hard to care for sometimes and I don’t want you to regret coming here being with me.”

“In these last few days,” she began, turning in Joel’s arms, reaching out to cup his face in her hands tenderly, “I have experienced more happiness than I have in over a decade. If this last week tells me anything, it’s that I firmly believe I can have endless amounts of happiness if I gave this a shot. New York City is what I have been clinging onto because it’s all I had. If you’re willing and you mean it, I don’t think I would ever regret coming here to stay with you.”

Not wanting to say too much, he just gave her a nod and a weak smirk. Really, he was too scared to say much more. This was a good thing. Something that he was actually happy about and that didn’t happen too often. Part of him was terrified that his bad luck was going to kick in and if he let her know just how happy this whole thing was making him, it would somehow bring about something bad. For the first time in a long time, he had something in his life that he was afraid of losing and that scared him.

Finishing up at the pool, they got dressed and then took the snowmobile ride back to his truck. After packing things up, they got a quick dinner together before going to the next destination that he had planned for them. When they pulled up to the Jackson Ranch he could see that there was visible amusement in her eyes.

“What is this?” she seemed to be in amazement when her eyes fell upon the horses that were being ridden around the area. With a smirk, Joel tipped his head back against the seat and bit down on his bottom lip. Instead of answering, Joel got out of the truck and made his way around to help her out of the truck. Reaching for her hand, he hooked his fingers with hers and led her toward the stables that they were parked near.

“You seemed to love the horses so much during the sleigh ride through town, I thought I would bring you here. Allow you to actually get to have some time to see them,” he informed her, squeezing his fingers around hers while they walked side by side. There seemed to be a rush of excitement that flooded into her features and it made him smile. “Tommy and I both have horses here.”

“No shit?” she blurt out causing an amused rumble to fall from Joel’s throat. Her enthusiasm definitely made everything he had done for her better. Entering the stables, he watched her closely loving her every expression she made as they moved by the horses that were lined up. “You have a horse? You actually know how to ride a horse?”

“Yeah,” he nodded his head about, some color flooding into his face when he shrugged his shoulders. “Pretty well actually.”

“How did this conversation never come up?” she stopped to stare out at him, wiggling his arms about while she held onto his hands. “It would have been the perfect time to tell me when I put that cowboy hat on you.”

“Well, at that moment you were the one doing the riding,” he snorted, laughing out loud when she firmly smacked at the center of his chest playfully. His nose wrinkled when he waved his hand about in the air. “I’m just stating a fact.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” she grumbled under her breath with him reaching out to pull her into his arms.

“Yeah, but you love me anyways,” he repeated what he knew to be true and it brought forth some color into her face. Truthfully? He liked throwing that word around. Especially since he knew they both felt the same way. “You know I’m right.”

Stopping long enough, he captured her lips in a tender sweep that had her clinging tightly to his jacket. Tugging herself up onto her toes, they continued to kiss until the sound of one of the horses interrupted the two of them causing them both to laugh.

“That right there is Tommy’s horse,” he educated her, nodding over her shoulder to the stall that was behind her. Turning on her heel, she felt Joel’s hands settling in over her hips and she smiled at the light brown horse that was before them. From afar she stared out at the horse and he let out a small snicker. “You can pet them. It’s okay.”

With permission, she stepped forward and held her hand out. Clearly, she was trying to allow the horse to get comfortable enough with her so she could start to pet the horse, “This big mouth right here is Justified. And before you ask me, no I don’t know why Tommy named it that, but he did.”

“Hey there,” she whispered, being extremely gentle in the way that she was petting the horse. Even though he was pretty sure she hadn’t been around horses much, she took great care in making the animal comfortable with her. And she was in awe of the horse. “You are so pretty, aren’t you?”

In the next stall, the horse let out a neigh with the two of them pampering Justified. Giving Justified a final pat, Joel stepped aside and reached his hand out to pet the horse in the next stable, “This jealous little man right here is mine.”

A smirk tugged at her lips after she got done praising Justified and moved in beside Joel to stare out at the darker horse, “This fella’s name is Callus.”

“Hello Callus, it’s nice to meet you,” she whispered and it seemed like Joel’s horse was immediately smitten with her. After a moment, her face scrunched up and an amused sound escaped her throat. “Callus? Did I say that right? Why in God’s name is his name Callus?”

“I hate that name,” Joel defended himself, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “I didn’t come up with it. A while back, I took this kid under my wing. She was an orphan that had no one and I promised to look after her for someone. She’s the one that named him.”

“Did she hate the horse?” she teased, continuing to pet Callus who couldn’t be bothered that they were ultimately saying how awful his name was.

“No, I think she was very fond of him,” he explained, his eyebrows bouncing up when he considered his past.

“Why have I never met this girl?” she inquired, her head tipping to the side with Joel’s face flushing over. “Why have we never even talked about this girl?”

“We’ve been kind of busy,” he suggested, a lump in his throat growing knowing that it was a big part of him and he probably should have talked about it with her, but they were distracted for a huge part of their time together. “Plus, we aren’t as close as I would like us to be anymore.”

“Should I ask?” she didn’t want to upset him since she had always promised him that he didn’t have to talk about things that made him uncomfortable.

“We had a disagreement. It made her not talk to me for a while. Recently she started talking to me again, but it’s not like how it used to be,” he didn’t exactly elaborate and she wasn’t about to force him to. “She lives on a farm outside of Jackson with her girlfriend and their son. So whenever she’s free, she will come out here to see me. Or whenever she feels guilty enough I guess. I’m sure you’ll meet her the day after Christmas. That is, if she comes.”

“I’d love to meet her,” she stated with a shrug of her shoulders, still doing her best not to put her nose into Joel’s business. “So, you’re kind of like her adopted father.”

“In a roundabout way, I guess,” he scoffed, pausing to think of the answer. “Why?”

“Then that means you’re a grandpa?” she joked, her head tipping to the side in a playful manner that had Joel grumbling under his breath. “I’m dating and in love with a grandpa.”

“Watch it,” he dropped one of his hands down to poke at her side, getting her to jump in response. “I’ve learned how ticklish you can be and if you keep fucking with me, I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Well that’s cruel,” she winked, returning her attention to Callus before letting out a dramatic sigh. “Wow, you really are like an authentic cowboy. I would have never thought it.”

“Would you like to go for a ride with an authentic cowboy?” he stammered, getting a wicked smirk to tug at her features.

“I’ve had quite a few,” she responded causing a flush to grow into his face since he walked right into that one. “But if you’re offering us to go on a ride with Callus, I would be honored.”

“Well, now that you’re done being a pervert, I reckon Callus would love to go for a ride around the ranch. It’s been a while since he’s been able to show off,” he had her step back so he could start to get everything for them ready. It took a while since it had been quite some time since he had done this, but by the time he was ready, he pulled himself up onto Callus with a grunt. Holding his hand out toward her, he motioned her forward which had her swallowing loudly. Even though she was eager to do this, there was still a sense of anxiousness in her movements. As soon as she grabbed a hold of his hand, he was easily pulling her up with him. It didn’t take much at all for him to do it and by the look in her eyes, he knew that she was amazed with how strong he was. Tightly wrapping her arms around Joel’s waist, she made sure that she wouldn’t fall in the moment. How she was holding onto him actually made him proud with him smirking and looking back over his shoulder at her. “You good?”

“Yeah, I just never realized how strong you were,” she responded, cuddling her head in against the center of his back.

“You’d be surprised just how strong I’m capable of being,” he alerted her, instructing Callus to move forward out of the stables. Once they got outside, Callus had a skip to his trot excited to be out in the snow with Joel riding him. “Callus here is showing off. When he was younger, he’d go on long rides through the wilderness. So when he gets the chance to shine these days, he does.”

How Joel talked about Callus awed her. Today alone, she learned that he had this horse and he visibly cared deeply for it. Then she learned that Joel had a young woman in this life that he considered family. There were new things she was learning about him every day.

“You keep surprising me Joel Miller,” she informed him, nuzzling her nose in against the side of his neck when she got more comfortable with him. That statement was really true. The man that Joel turned out being really surprised her. If you would have told her when she first met Joel the kind of man he was, she would have never believed you. Cuddling in against him from behind, she admired how easily he worked with Callus and how natural everything came to him. There was so much good to Joel that she didn’t understand why he was so upset when she came to town. The man she had grown close to over the last week was incredible. “The moments I’ve spent with you over this last week have been some of the best in my life. I hope you know that.”

“That means a lot to me,” he muttered, sucking in a sharp breath of air. There was something that swirled through his mind when he thought about some of the discussions they had. Recalling the night she opened up her heart to them at that bar about her past, he remembered that she had told them that she was looking for a reason to prove that life was still worth living. “I was scared at first, y’know? You’re so pure and I didn’t want to be the thing that broke you.”

Leaning forward enough, she pressed a loving kiss against Joel’s cheek and it had him sighing loudly. There was a warmth flooding throughout his body even though it was incredibly cold outside and it brought a chill to the both of them. Clearing his throat, he continued to ride realizing that this was probably a conversation better left for off the horse, but he had to say what was on his mind.

“I was pretty much done with life, y’know? I loved Tommy and the others in my life but everyone was moving on. They had things that made them happy and I was still so alone. Lonely,” he lingered on the last word he said, his chest aching at the thought. “But then you showed up and it’s like you built this new and improved version of me. Glued the pieces of me together to the point you wouldn’t even know I was broken. I’m not sure anyone has ever been capable of that.”

“Joel…” she started, stopping herself when she felt herself getting maybe just a little too emotional in the moment. Looking down, she simply just cuddled herself in closer to him and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

“What is it?” he gave her a quick look back over his shoulder noticing that she stopped herself from saying something.

“I just love you,” she spoke faintly, her chest aching at the thought of what both of them were before she showed up to town. “So much.”

“You don’t have to hide that from me,” he promised her with a wink, liking that in her arms he felt like he belonged to her. “How about we do a few more rounds around the ranch and then head back to my place?”

“Before we go back to your place, do you think we can stop at the inn for me to pick up a few things? So that way I don’t have to go back to the inn before we go to Tommy and Maria’s place tomorrow?” she requested and Joel simply just gave her a nod. She really didn’t think he would have a problem with it. “Thank you for everything today Joel. I don’t think you realize how much it means to me.”

“You’re welcome,” he grunted, enjoying the way that her hand caressed up and over the center of his chest. The way she was holding onto him made him feel like he belonged to her which was something he liked feeling. “I’m just glad to have you here.”

After finishing up at the ranch, they did exactly as she asked of him. They headed to the inn where she ran up to grab some things and Joel checked on everyone that was working through the night. When she came back downstairs, he was already waiting for her sitting down on the bottom step. It felt nice to have someone to go to on Christmas Eve. Most of her holidays were spent alone at the hospital where she would visit with patients. After she lost her family, she really never had something to come back to.

They lingered around the inn for a bit before heading back to Joel’s. When they got there, he told her that she should go take a shower to get relaxed for the night while he made them some hot chocolate and set up a movie night for them. Genuinely? She thought it was very sweet.

Attempting to take a quick shower so she didn’t have him waiting, she was surprised when she started heading down the stairs to see that the living room was lit up by the Christmas tree. On most occasions when they would be at Joel’s home, he would normally keep it off, so it was nice to see. But when she made it to the bottom step, she let out a loud exhale when she saw that the fireplace was on. Laid out before it were some blankets and pillows making a smile tug at her lips. The whole set up was very intimate even with the sound of a quiet music playing in the background. The only thing that was missing was Joel.

“Joel?” she called out to him, moving further into the living room. Once he heard her, the sound of something being fumbled in the kitchen was heard followed by a slew of curse words. With a laugh, she stepped forward wondering if she should join him in the kitchen. “Are you okay? Do you need help.”

“No, I just…” he groaned out from the kitchen, cursing under his breath a few more times. “Could you just sit on the couch and wait for me for a minute?”

“I can do that,” she agreed to what he asked of her, heading across the living room to take a seat on the edge of the couch. Curiosity was eating away at her with her tipping slightly in hopes to get a look at what was going on in the kitchen, but she really couldn’t see much of anything. “Are you sure you don’t need help in there?”

“No, I don’t…” he sighed loudly and she heard him mouthing something under his breath. “Do you think you could cover your eyes for a minute? Don’t open them until I tell you to. I have…well, I reckon it’s a surprise, but I don’t…know.”

“Okay,” she laughed, amused with the way that he was talking. By the tone, it sounded like he was very unsure of himself and she was interested in what was actually going on. Following through with it, she covered her eyes after closing them. An involuntary smiled tugged at her features when she slid further back against the couch. “They’re covered.”

By the sounds of his footsteps, she knew that he came from the kitchen to join her in the living room. Hearing him breathing loudly told her that he was anxious, but she couldn’t picture why. Truthfully? He had her covering her eyes longer than she thought he would, “Just…don’t laugh, okay? I thought this was gonna be a better idea than it is.”

“I can open my eyes?” she confirmed with him hearing him scoff in response.

“Yeah,” he didn’t say much when she lowered her hands to her lap. Taking her time opening her eyes, she couldn’t help but smile when her head lifted to take a look at Joel standing in front of her with a tray in his hands. On the tray were the hot chocolates decorated with whipped cream on top along with chocolate shavings. But? She was more so distracted with the opened robe that Joel was wearing. It was made to look like Santa’s costume. Underneath the only thing he was wearing was a pair of green boxer briefs dawned with red diagonal lines across them. And at the front of the boxer briefs was a printed-on Christmas bow that brought forth some color into her face. Finally meeting Joel’s dark eyes, she could help but smile seeing the Santa hat that he was wearing. Really, he went all out with this and she couldn’t help the involuntary laugh that escaped her lips. Instead of him realizing that she thought he was adorable, he thought the worst and slouched forward. “I knew this was a bad idea. I look ridiculous, don’t I? I thought it would be much sexier at the time I came up with it.”

“Hey, hey…” she hushed him when he lowered the tray of hot chocolates onto the coffee table and seemed visibly frustrated. Standing up from the couch, she moved around the coffee table to reach for his hands before he could run off. “It’s not ridiculous at all.”

“You’re laughing,” he frowned, grunting in annoyance when the Santa hat fell in front of his face. Blowing firmly, he tried to get it out of his eyes causing her to laugh when it plopped right back down where it was before. Reaching for it, she moved it out of his eyes and noticed the red coloring that had flooded into his face from being embarrassed. “I’m an old man, I shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea.”

“Stop,” she closed the distance between them, reaching up for the sides of the robe that he was wearing. Tugging at the material had him stumbling in closer toward her and it made her smile. “You did all this for me?”

“I did,” he muttered looking between them, just as she did so she could get a look at what he was wearing. “I wanted to make tonight special for you.”

“So you’re my gift?” she confirmed with him and he gave her a single nod. A smile expanded across her features and he felt a warmth flooding throughout his body when she lifted her right hand to start drawing shapes over the center of his chest. “I think you look fantastic.”

“No, you don’t,” he shook his head, chuckling with the bridge of his nose wrinkling. Swallowing down hard, he watched as she lowered down to push the robe somewhat apart to start pressing small, wet kisses near his collarbone. Unhurriedly, they raised up over his shoulder and to the side of his neck eliciting a deep rumble of a moan to escape him. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“But you look so good,” she assured him, pressing her body in against his. Having her close like this had his breathing growing broken and uneven. Dropping her hand down, she faintly palmed in over the front of his boxer briefs where the bow was causing his eyes to flutter to a tight close. Groaning out, his head tipped back with his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. It allowed her to nip tenderly at the flesh there. “And I can’t wait to open my present when the time is right.”

“Yes ma’am,” he growled out, a fire flooding through his veins with the excitement she had caused his body from just cupping at him through the material of the boxer briefs. “I made a special peppermint hot chocolate for us.”

“Then we should drink it,” she breathed out, heading over toward the blankets that Joel had set up for them. Carefully lowering herself down gave Joel time to reach for her mug and bring it to her. Accepting the cup, she watched as he lowered down and then reached for his own mug before joining her. “What is this?”

“I told you, peppermint hot chocolate,” he responded pointing toward the mug provoking her to let out an amused laugh that had him tipping his head to the side. Furrowing his eyebrows, he was visibly confused when he took a small sip of his hot chocolate. “What?”

“I meant all this?” she nodded toward the setup, chuckling when Joel pulled his mug away and some of the whipped cream was in his facial hair. Setting her mug aside carefully, she leaned across to steal a kiss from him. Tipping her head back, she swept her finger over the mess that he left. Cleaning it, she dragged her thumb across his bottom lip having his lips parting with a quiet moan escaping him. Sucking at the tip of her thumb, his eyes closed and she felt her heart skip a beat at his reaction to what she had done.

“I told you,” he began licking his lips when she sat back down and reached for her hot chocolate. “I wanted to do something special for you. Give you a nice gift to lead you into Christmas. I just wanted to prove to you that I listen.”

“That you listen?” she repeated, her eyebrow arching in curiosity when she lowered the hot chocolate down. There was no question that Joel took a lot of effort in what he put together. The hot chocolate was the perfect amount of sweet. And when he brought them out here, it looked like something out of a magazine.

“You don’t realize?” he muttered, grabbing their hot chocolates to set them back on the coffee table that wasn’t far from them. Crawling back to her, he reached for her hand and pulled her to him. Lowering her back against the blankets, her head fell against the pillows with him moving in over her. With a laugh, the hat fell into his eyes again and he tried to swipe it away. After multiple attempts, he reached for the hat and pulled it from his head. Tossing it aside left his hair messy, but he smiled down at her with awe over the way she was laughing. “You told me you’d never been made love to before when we saw it on the television that time.”

“That’s what this is,” she blurt out, her heart fluttering in her chest at the idea of it. Brushing her fingers through Joel’s hair, she didn’t know how she’d ever want to leave Joel, if only for a few days. Each day she fell harder for him with every action. “I thought you said that this was completely unrealistic.”

“Well, for you, I reckon I’m willing to try just about anything,” he responded, his dark eyes locking with hers as her hands caressed up and over the center of his chest toward his shoulders. The heat from the fireplace was far enough away that it still felt warm where they were laying. “I want you to see that I care about you. That you mean so much to me…”

Lifting her left hand, she brushed her fingers through his hair and it had him leaning into her touch. Lowering down in over her, he balanced his weight on his arms with him hovering his mouth over hers. Teasing her with the idea of a kiss had the both of them smiling when she made a disappointed sound. Finally bringing their lips together had her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. For a while, they just laid in front of the fire kissing one another. The sweetness from the hot chocolate that he made still lingered over their lips and it added to the whole feeling of everything.

“You are the best Christmas gift I’ve ever had,” she panted after breaking away from the kiss, allowing his forehead to rest against hers. Pressing into his shoulders helped her to roll him over onto his back. Moving in over him, she rest on her knees and flattened her hands out over his lower abdomen. Caressing up and over the lengths of his torso toward his chest had him sucking in a sharp breath of air. “I see in everything you do that you care about me. I don’t have to question it.”

“I’m just afraid,” he confessed, his hands reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Working the material up her body had her lifting her arms to help him when he managed to get it off of her. Almost immediately his hands found their way to her hips. Sliding up over her sides, he lifted up enough to work with the hook in her bra. Pretty easily he was able to get the material off of her before he tossed it beside them. Gazing upon her body with awe, he didn’t know what he should or should not say. “How I feel about you scares me.”

“It shouldn’t,” she hushed him as he pushed up onto his palms to bring their bodies closer together. Helping him to work the robe from his body, she heard the heavy material hit the ground beside them when she wrapped him up in her arms. Their chests pressed together and the warmth of the skin-to-skin contact felt nice. His hands caressed up and over the lengths of her back before down again with his eyes locked on hers. “It’s okay.”

“I’m telling you, I’ve never been afraid. Not for a long time at least. Nothing scared me,” he explained to her, leaning up enough to start pressing loving kisses along her jawline. Her nails faintly bit at his upper shoulders when she tipped her head back and allowed him to kiss down over her neck. Taking a moment to gaze upon her again, he let out a tremoring breath and shrugged his shoulders. “But then you came into my life and now I’m scared. Scared because I love you. Scared that I won’t be good enough for you. That I won’t make you happy. That I will lose you.”

Stroking her fingers down over the side of his face had his eyelashes fluttering to a close. Bringing them together, she kissed at his plump bottom lip again and again having his arms tightening around her. Gasping out as he rolled her around had her heart hammering in her chest. Getting comfortable over the blankets, she lifted her hips when Joel’s fingers hooked into the waistband of her pants. Carefully, he started to pull them down her body, taking her panties with them. Dropping them beside him, he returned and dragged his rough fingertips up over the inside of her thigh. It had her shuddering beneath him.

“I’m so scared of what might happen to me if I lose you. I didn’t think I’d be able to be happy again. I didn’t think I was capable,” he continued to explain, his palm flattening in against her lower abdomen. Dragging it upwards had her back arching toward his touch. Cupping at the underside of her breast, he let his fingers finally surround it as he pressed in closer to her. Peppering kisses between the valley of her breasts drew out a whimper from her that made him smile. His thumb circled her nipple drawing chills throughout her body when his mouth surrounded her breast. The warmth of his tongue circled the small bud, pampering her body in that moment. Pulling back with a wet sound, he straightened his back and got up to his knees. Taking advantage she pushed up onto her hands and started to press wet kisses over his abdomen, down toward the area below his bellybutton. Working together, they both tugged at the waistband of the boxer briefs and got the material down. Wiggling about had both of them smiling when he managed to kick the material from his ankles. Getting comfortable over her again, they both adjusted their bodies. Grabbing one of the blankets, he worked it in over them and nervously licked his lips. “Being around you made me realize that I’m capable of being happy. I’m capable of looking forward to life. And even though I don’t think I deserve that, I don’t want to lose it.”

“You won’t lose me,” she promised him, stroking her fingers through the curls of hair at the bottom of his neck. Laying himself between her thighs, he reached for her leg and urged it to wrap around his waist. Kiss after loving kiss was pressed against her lips with his hips bucking up against her. The warmth of him had her body arching up toward his until he reached between them to help lead himself into her with an unhurried thrust forward. Hovering his lips over hers, his hand palmed in over the side of her face, cherishing the way the way she looked at him as he was fully inside of her. “Joel…”

Stealing another kiss from her lips, he took his time rolling his hips over her. Every movement was slow, focused and romantic. It was what she pictured something like this being. Being made love to was simply just an idea for so long, but with the way he was moving and touching her, it was a reality. Her hands caressed up over his back, appreciating the way the muscles flexed beneath her touch.

“Look at me,” he requested, his lips hovering just over hers with his movements still steady. Their breathing was linked, both of them desperate to be near the other. Lowering in closer to her, he nuzzled his nose in against hers. Every movement was meticulous working to keep that steady pressure between the both of them. “I love you, so much.”

This was the first time they had slept together since they had told each other that they loved one another. And by the movements? It felt different. This whole thing was so incredibly passionate. It was romantic. With every thrust, he whispered words of encouragement and praise. It left her with chills down her spine at just how perfect Joel was capable of being. How romantic and sweet. Making love to her in front of the fireplace was incredibly romantic and she fell in love with him more and more. This wasn’t about proving anything. This was him making love to her. Doing what she yearned for leading them up to the moment she came just before he did. Afterwards, he laid in over her, kissing her again and again. “Was that what you were looking for?”

“It was amazing,” she whimpered when he finally pulled himself from her and laid in beside her. Wrapping her up in his arms, he traced shapes over her shoulders with her head resting in over his chest. Listening to the sound of his heart, she closed her eyes and liked the way all of this felt.

“Y’know, I planned to tell you that I loved you during this,” he alerted her, his fingers dancing along the lengths of her shoulders. Using his free hand, he curled his fingers in underneath her jaw to get her to raise her head so she could look up at him. Her pupils were dilated, her breathing still loud as he swept his thumb along her jawline. “I wanted this to be your perfect moment.”

“This was my perfect moment. You told me you love me many times and each time it felt amazing,” she assured him, pressing kisses against the pad of this thumb with him dragging it out over her bottom lip. “I love you Joel Miller. And everything about today was phenomenal.”

“I like hearing you say that,” he whispered, his face twisting with visible emotion. “I love you. I know it’s fast. I know it’s crazy. And I know we are rushing into this, but I’ve never felt this way about someone. Even people I should have felt this way toward. I feel so much when I’m around you and I just…I never want to be away from you. Call it an addiction, call it whatever you want. All I know is that I am smitten. I’m head over heels for you and I love you.”

A tremoring breath escape her lips when she pushed up onto her hands to move in over him and bring their lips together in a passionate sweep that left the both of them breathless when they separated. Brushing his messy hair out of his face, she gave him a weak smile and nodded her head, “I love you too. So much.”

“Just like that?” he swallowed down hard, letting out a muted laugh when she gave him a confident nod. “For the first time in my life I’m excited. I want you to move in with me. I want to start a life with you. I want us to be together….”

“I want that too,” she assured him, hooking her fingers with his. The way he squeezed at her fingers and stared out at her with adoration in his eyes only confirmed for her everything that he was saying. “My heart knows what it wants and it’s you.”

“We’re insane,” he claimed with a raspy laugh, pulling her in over him and cuddling her close. A week ago we were ready to kill each other because we annoyed one another so fucking much. And now? I can’t imagine not having you in my arms every night. You’re the pieces I’ve been missing. You make me whole.”

“I am completely taken by you Joel Miller,” she whispered, kissing him once more before lowering her head to cuddle it in against his chest. Almost protectively his arms wrapped around her and cuddled her close. “And I’m yours.”

----

Tags: @jdmorganz @carolineesnell @ayumi-wolf @dilfsandmartinis @christinamadsen

@brittmb115 @thegirlwiththemostcake3 @ashleyfilm

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller fanfiction #Joel Miller x reader #Pedro Pascal #The Last of Us #The last of Us fanfiction #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller Smut #Joel Miller Fluff #Tlou fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction #Christmas in Jackson #Joel Miller Imagine

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christinamadsen · 5 days ago

Text

Anywhere you go, I'll follow

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Summary: Din saves you after your home is destroyed, giving you both a chance to finally come clean about your feelings.

Warnings: language, descriptions of death/violence, longing/pining, hurt/comfort, angst, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, reader wants his baby real bad

WC: 5.9K

---

He knew something was wrong before he even landed.

Naxore was never what one considers a paradise, but the dusty planet never looked as ashen as it did from this distance.

It was small, but it managed to house about one thousand citizens. From his experience, they're good people. They mind their own business and require very little from the galaxy. Most of what they eat and use gets produced right on the planet itself. It's small, ugly, and hardly a blip on the radar. This never stopped the people who live there from loving it with their whole hearts.

When he first arrived all those years ago, ship in desperate need of repair and Din in desperate need of hiding, the citizens welcomed him. They fed him and cleansed his wounds without a second thought. They put their lives and their little planet in danger to keep him safe. And when he left, the doctor who tended to him and gave him a bed said, Keep Naxore a secret.

And he did. But whenever Din had the chance, he would stop by and pay them a visit. He brought goods and wares from other planets, trinkets and toys for the children, and anything else he could think of they might find useful.

He always stayed with the doctor, whose wife passed on before Din had ever arrived, but still had a daughter.

You.

He told himself he was being kind, that the reason for his visits were virtuous, but deep down he knew it was you that kept him coming back. After every visit, he became more and more infatuated. Less and less time would pass before his next trip, just so he could get a glimpse of you, and when he was away, his thoughts were consumed with your laugh, your smile, the way your eyes sparkled when he unveiled to you whatever little gift he brought. He thought of you constantly. He longed for the conversations you would have, all alone, late at night around the fire. He grew hooked on your every word, eager to learn as much about you as possible. You would tell him stories of your mother, of the children at the school where you taught, how worried you were for your father as he aged.

You never once spoke of a partner, and he never asked. It would be considered too forward. Besides, what sort of life could he offer you if he tried to make you his? A bounty hunter, living a life of danger with no real home?

No, you were safer with your father.

Still, he enjoyed his visits. It temporarily satiated his thirst to be near you, to listen to you speak, to watch the way your nimble fingers worked to mend clothes or knead bread.

Din didn't have many pleasures in life, but that was certainly one of them.

So as he began his descent and saw your little planet was barren, his heart sunk. He discovered once he stepped off the Razor Crest that what little trees and foliage you had are burnt to a crisp. Everything is grey, death looms everywhere. Corpses, nearly skeletons now, litter the streets. Buildings collapsed, rubble crunch under his boots, and the entire town is silent, yet he still follows the familiar path to your father's house. He knows what he's going to find, but he can't stop himself.

Sure enough, when your house comes into view, his suspicions are confirmed. The entire building is leveled to the ground. He stumbles a moment, fighting the pain swelling in his chest. Not much is recognizable, but there is a chair that used to be in the sitting room. The same chair you used to sit in while he regaled you with his stories.

He falls to his knees then, and dips his head, fighting the urge to cry. He isn't even sure why he bothers. No one is alive and he still has his helmet on, yet he still blinks back tears.

You were so young and beautiful. You had your whole life ahead of you. You were kind and thoughtful and patient with the children in your class and with your father.

His gloved hand digs angrily into the dirt, fingers curling like he could find some answer for his pain. If he just visited more — if he took you with him, like he always wanted — maybe you would still be alive.

He feels sick. Enraged. His heart splits in his chest and his body folds over, slowly, as if the weight of his agony was trying to bury him.

Just then, there's a noise. It sounds as though someone's walking over the rubble, albeit much softer than he just did. His breath stalls and he scans the area, freezing with his hand on his blaster when he spots the source.

He can hardly believe his eyes. Yet, there you stand. Dirty, ashen, hair a mess and clothes torn. But still, you're there.

He blinks and a tear slips past his defenses. He's convinced at first he must be hallucinating, but then you move again, looking at him like you must be thinking the same. Like he's a mirage.

When you get closer, his hand falls from his waist and he slowly brings himself to his feet. He refuses to tear his eyes away, afraid if he does, you'll disappear.

Finally, you slowly raise your hands to cup your mouth. Your eyes crinkle and streaks of wet trail down your filthy cheeks and you call out his name with a broken sob.

"Din."

He closes the distance in a heartbeat. His arms wrap around you and he feels your body heave, bawling and shaking in his arms. He murmurs your name, tells you you're okay, and promises to take care of you.

You nod and continue to cry. Your fingers grab at him, searching for comfort. They slide over his steel armor, feeble fingers clawing at unwavering metal, and he never before felt so angry. Angry at whoever did this to your planet. Angry at himself, for not doing more. Angry at the promise he kept to remain hidden behind a helmet.

He doesn't ask. He leads you to his ship, slowly. Your shoes aren't as good as his and your body seems weak and malnourished. But when it starts to grow dark and you stumble next to him, he scoops you up in his arms. A squeal of surprise slips past your lips but your arms wrap round his neck, anyway.

"You need rest," he says by way of explaination. "I can carry you the rest of the way. I have food and a warm bed. You'll be strong once again, and you will be safe."

You simply nod and lean your head against his shoulder. He feels your warm breath on his neck through his cowl and he has to resist the urge to strip himself of his armor and press his body to yours the second he gets you safely on the Crest.

He feeds you and gives you fresh clothes. He shows you to the fresher, where you can wash up, and promises to wait just outside the door in case you fall or need help. You don't, but he never once leaves his post. When you emerge, your eyes look sunken and puffy. You're exhausted and he knows there was no use in asking you for details that night. He ushers you to his bunk and you crawl inside, collapsing into his cot with a deep sigh of relief.

"I'm going to get us out of here," he says. You just nod with your eyes closed. "Call out if you need me," he adds before flicking off the light. He gives you one more glance before he ascends to the cockpit. You look comfortable. You look at peace. And you look fucking incredible in his clothes.

He stifles a growl and heads up the ladder.

His priority is to get you to safety. Everything else can wait.

---

"If you never take it off, how can you eat?"

Din's eyes flickered up to you through his visor. It's been two days. You nearly slept for one of them. You look healthier and more like yourself now. The sight made him happy, more relaxed.

"I eat alone," he explains. You're sitting across from him at the small metal table that folds out from the wall. You are halfway through your meal, which is nothing fancy, just some freeze dried rations, but based on the noises you made since the first bite touched your lips, you'd think you're eating fresh tiingilar.

Your eyes drop to the plate in front of him, untouched.

"Oh," you say, recalling from his prior visits when he would retire to his room to eat. You always thought it was due to exhaustion or perhaps he didn't want to hear you prattle on about nonsense like you had a tendency of doing whenever he lingered in your father's sitting room. It was always so hard to read him when his face and body was covered in armor.

"What if I turned my back?" you offer. His head tilts and his fingers thrum against the tabletop.

"I can wait," he assures you, then asks, "Will you tell me what happened?"

Your face falls and you look down sadly at your plate. You push around the food and drag in a shaky breath.

"We were attacked," you say. "It happened at night. They ransacked the town while everyone slept. I remember—"

You choke on your words and he stiffens.

"I remember going to the window when I first heard the shouting. I... they were dragging people from their homes. They took the women and killed the men."

Din stops breathing. His jaw tenses behind his helmet. You sniffle, then continue.

"My father built a small bunker underneath our home when I was a child," you say, wiping a tear from your eye. "He hid me down there and I begged him to join me, but he wouldn't — I begged him, Din."

Tears trickle down your face now. He reaches out a gloved hand to stop you, rests it on top of yours.

He knows it's a long shot, but still he asks, "Do you know who these people were?"

You shake your head somberly, eyes drifting now to his hand. You think it over for a moment before lifting your other hand to place on top of his. Your thumb idly rubs the tough fabric.

"I never found another living soul," you whisper. Din's gaze is still locked on your hands. "I searched for days. I suppose it's fortunate my father was a paranoid man."

"Your father was a careful man," he corrects. You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. He feels horrible because it's clear your heart is torn in two and filled with guilt, yet he sits across from you, brimming with joy and relief that you managed to survive.

"What will happen now?" you ask, "what will I do?"

He swallows and you must hear it because you tilt your head slightly.

"I can take you anywhere you want to go," he eventually says.

You laugh, but it sounds flat. You keep his hand sandwiched between yours when you say, "I have nowhere to go. I've never even left my planet before. I have no one. Well... except for you."

Your cheeks burn. You give his hand a little squeeze before letting it go and even through his gloves, he instantly misses the heat from your touch.

"Navarro is nice," he says, "I have people there that I trust. People who can help you get back on your feet."

"Oh," you breathe. Then you blink and drop your gaze to your lap, food long forgotten. "Yes, okay. That... okay."

He studies you through his visor. He can tell the idea makes you nervous. You're shifting awkwardly in your seat and anxiously chewing your bottom lip.

Then, he says something foolish. Something reckless and selfish.

"Or, you could stay with me. On the Crest. It's not much of a life, but—"

"Really?" you ask, cutting him off. You peer at him hopefully through your lashes and warmth spreads in his chest at being the object you chose to grace with that look.

"Of course. You're welcome here for as long as you wish. I just ask you listen to me," he tells you sternly. He wants to make sure you understand the seriousness of what he's trying to say, but you're practically bouncing in your seat from excitement. "It can get dangerous, at times. If I tell you to stay on the ship, you need to stay on the ship, no matter how bored you might be, or—"

"I will, I promise," you say before jumping up and rounding the table. He barely has a chance to blink before you throw your arms around him for a hug. It's clunky and awkward with his armor, but you don't seem to mind. You're grinning from ear to ear, the happiest he's seen you look in days. He inhales deeply, breathing in your scent through the filter in his helmet. It makes him dizzy. With his soap and clothes, you smell so good that it leaves him breathless.

"Thank you," you say softly. You pull back slightly to gaze up at him and for one second, he thinks you can actually see him. Your eyes lock on his and you hold it, and it all feels so real that it has his breath catching in his throat. Without thinking, one of his hands lifts to cradle your face. You immediately lean into his touch but your gaze never falters. Nobody has ever looked at him the way you did. It cuts him to the core in a way he never imagined.

The air between you grows too heavy and he can't resist quickly scanning your body. Through his visor, he picks up your heat signature is slightly elevated in your face and chest. And he tries to fight the urge, he really does, but he can't help scanning lower. He clocks the temperature between your legs and his cock stirs when his suspicions are confirmed.

"You said you've never left your planet."

His voice breaks the tension. You blink and nod with a smile before stepping back, creating some breathing room between you.

"You shouldn't hide down here, then. You're missing the entire galaxy. Let me show you the cockpit."

Your eyes flicker nervously to the ladder before slowly nodding.

"O-okay," you reply shakily.

Din frowns and reaches for your hand. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I think you'll like it."

Your shoulders square up. Your chin lifts confidently and he smiles when you say, "I trust you."

He climbs the ladder first, then reaches down to help you up. When you clamber to your feet and look around, your eyes grow wide and your lips part with wonder.

"Oh, my..." you breathe, gaze raking over all the lights and controls before settling on the huge windows. He can see the reflection of the stars in your eyes and he can't tear himself away. As he suspected, all traces of your earlier apprehension vanished. You're hypnotized by the way the bright stars stretch and swirl through hyperspace, completely enraptured.

"This view. It's... beautiful," you whisper, unblinking.

With his attention still fixed on you, he replies, "Yes, it is."

Your eyes dart to him and you try to bite back a shy smile when you realize he wasn't looking at the stars.

"I've never flown before," you tell him, "it's so incredible. I can't believe you can do this all on your own."

"Really? Never?" he asks, and you shake your head. "Then we should celebrate," he adds. Your eyes light up when he spins around to a small cabinet bolted to the wall and pulls out a half filled bottle of liquor. As he pours the dark red liquid into two glasses, he realizes he hasn't stopped smiling since you stepped foot in the cockpit.

"What is this?" you ask when you take the cup he offers you. You sniff it and your nose scrunches up.

"It's Mandalorian wine," he says, "try it, it's good."

You take a tentative sip then look up at him with surprise. "It's sweet."

"I don't have it often, it's hard to come by," he admits. Then his free hand unlatches his helmet and your eyes snap to the place his fingers hook under the edge. He swears he notices excitement flicker across your face for a brief moment before you turn around.

"I won't look," you promise.

He opens his mouth to tell you it was fine, that he was only lifting it a few short inches to take a drink, but he doesn't. He sips from his glass and allows himself to take you in fully without your heated gaze pinning him to the wall. He can just make out your reflection in the windows and you faithfully have your eyes squeezed shut, just in case you catch an accidental glimpse. He sips again and his eyes darken. He can feel his body responding to how obedient you are and it's growing uncomfortable.

He slips his helmet back down and when you hear the telltale hiss of the latch, your eyes open.

"Can I turn around now?"

A muscle flickers in his jaw. Fuck, you're such a good girl.

"Yes," he says, voice rough.

You pick up on his tone. Your face warms as you slowly turn around to face him and its imperceptible, but your thighs squeeze together in his fucking pants. It's a good thing you can't see him because underneath the helmet, he is fighting every urge to pull you into his arms. He's sure it's written all over his face. Maker, he wonders what it would be like to be touched by you, to be held by you, to be kissed by you. It's been so long.

You're nervous again, he notes, but not due to fear this time. Your gaze shifts around the cabin and you swallow thickly before pointing towards the controls.

"W-what do all these do?"

He follows your finger. You're pointing to the control wheel and dials right in front of his chair.

He sets down his mostly empty glass and sits. He begins to half heartedly tell you what certain switches and knobs do, and you nod along, sipping from your glass and leaning into the side of his chair.

You lean forward, across his lap, and squint at one particularly important looking lever.

"What about this?"

His eyes slide closed and he breathes deep. You're so close to him he can feel the warmth from your skin through the slivers of exposed fabric that lies underneath his armor.

"It— it's one of the controls that sends us into hyperspace," he mumbles. You hum curiously and take another sip, draining your glass. Your body still stretches over his lap as you study the control panel and he hopes you don't notice the twitching in his pants.

"One of?" you echo. Then your beautiful eyes find his visor. He swallows harshly, leather creaking over his knuckles.

"Yes," he rasps, "there's — well, there's levels I need to check first and a course needs to —"

He stops speaking when you straighten up and sidestep so that you're wedged between him and the control panel. He watches in a haze when your small hands wrap around the control column, right where his hands normally go to steer the ship.

His gloved fingers dig into the arms of his chair.

His legs straddle yours where you stand. If you sat, you'd be right in his lap. His hands twitch and his heart stutters in his chest. You're so fucking close, he could simply wrap one arm around you—

The ship hits an unexpected rough pocket and it jolts. It's small, nothing he would even wake up for, but you're not used to flying. Your knees give out and you fall back, right into his chest.

His arms circle your waist and you let out a squeak of surprise. Then your hands cover his. Instead of pulling them off your body, you tug them tighter and squirm a little in his lap, as if you're trying to get your bearings and stand, but it's taking just a little too long.

Din murmurs your name and you still.

"Cyar'ika, I'm a patient man. But you're testing me, and I think you enjoy it."

He can't see your face, only your back and shoulders, which tense at his words. There's a long pause as if you're trying to decide your next move and he holds his breath, hoping he didn't read things wrong.

Then, your shoulders drop.

Your fingers loosen around his hands but still remain in place, holding them to your stomach. When you tilt your face to the side and look at him over your shoulder, you give him a sly grin.

"Am I that transparent?"

He doesn't respond right away, but his cock does. It swells underneath you and a soft noise that has him forgetting how to breathe slips past your lips.

"Din—"

He shakes your hands off his so he can pull frantically at his gloves, one at a time. They drop to the floor, then his hands are back on you again. Your eyes flutter shut and you tip your chin up when you feel him — really feel him — for the first time as he explores the skin under your borrowed tunic. It has been so long since he's felt the warmth of another that it makes him weak. Under his helmet, his jaw drops open in wonder. You're breathing heavy, he can feel it, and it's making his vision blur.

He cups your left breast and you whimper before leaning into his hold. Stars, you're so soft and warm and perfect that he never wants to stop touching you.

Your body sags against his chest when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your back presses against his beskar and your head falls backward onto his shoulder with a loud thud. You wince and try to hide it, but he sees it.

"Sit up," he orders. He releases your breast and you whine but you do as you're told and lean forward so he can remove the metal that covers his upper body.

He eases you down so your back rests on his chest once again. Now, the only metal you have to contend with is his helmet and the plates on his thighs. When the back of your head comes to rest on his shoulder, you instantly twist so you can bury your face into the crook of his neck. You inhale deeply, like you're committing his scent to memory, before fumbling for his hand and guiding it down, past your waistline. His fingers dip underneath your pants and he bites back a groan. The fabric is oversized and loose, making it easy for him to find exactly what he's looking for.

"D-Din," you stammer when the pads of his fingers slide through your slit. Your head rolls and your lips part when you lift your hips off his lap, chasing his gentle touch.

You must hear how fast he's breathing. Even though the modulator muffles it, it's so loud it's impossible you don't notice.

"Maker, you're soft. So soft and wet," he murmurs. You preen a little in his lap, hips rolling so his two thick fingers slip through your cunt, spreading your folds and slick with each pass.

When he sinks both fingers past your entrance, your hand flies back, slapping loudly against the side of his helmet.

"Oh!" you cry out, fingers clutching uselessly at the metal. Your back arches off his chest with a wet gasp when he pushes in all the way to the knuckle, then he's shushing you. His distorted voice is trying to quiet you down but, as it turns out, you both want each other so badly that it's an impossible task, even for a Mandalorian.

"Do you know how long I've thought about this?" he asks, watching the way your eyes pinch shut and your jaw trembles each time his fingers drag in and out of you. Your backside writhes in his lap and he has to use his other hand to keep you still, wrapping it around your waist from behind and pressing his palm flat against your stomach.

"No," you shudder. You're coming apart so easily for him, heat blooming in your chest and cheeks the faster his hand moves down your pants — his pants. He's so hard, his stomach hurts.

"Years," he grits. "Each time I left, I dreamt of taking you with me. Dreamt of your perfect mouth, your beautiful eyes, your smile, your laugh—" He curses under his breath when you clench tightly around his fingers. He can't wait to feel you wrapped around his cock, squeezing him so tight and milking him for every last drop of his release.

"You came b-back for m-me," you stammer breathlessly. "Y-you — oh, f-fuck, Din—"

A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead. You're grinding down on his hand, back bowed and nails digging ruthlessly into his covered arm. You look so sweet, coming apart on his hand, moaning his name, that he wants nothing more than to kiss you, to taste you.

But, he can't.

So, he settles for driving you wild, for curling his fingers deep inside you, grunting in your ear, rubbing his palm against your clit until your lungs are empty and your entire body is pulled tight.

"Pl-please," you beg, "oh, please. Pleaseplea— I'm g-gonna come," you whine. You gasp hotly against his helmet, holding him so close with a hand still clutching at the back of his head that his visor fogs up.

"Come for me," he tells you shakily, even through the modulator. "Come for me and then I'll fuck this sweet little pussy, just the way I've always wanted."

That tips you over the edge. You moan his name so loudly that it echoes in the small room. You thrash your head around on his shoulder, body convulsing in his lap as he pulls every ounce of pleasure he can, and then your teeth find a small patch of exposed skin just above the collar of his shirt, below his ear. He swears when your teeth pinch him and his grip on you tightens, holding you steady until your orgasm slows and you relax in his arms.

He doesn't give you much time to recover. He can't. He's so pent up, it's making him dizzy. Sliding you off his lap, Din reaches down and pulls on his pants, lifting his hips and tugging the fabric down just enough to free his cock. You're still in a daze, slumped against his shoulder, chest heaving. When he tugs you back in place, leaning against his chest and sitting in his lap, he loosens your slacks, letting them pool to the floor.

In his crazed, lust-filled stupor, he manages to realize something through the fog. The position you're in — with your back pressed against his front — maybe...

His hand fumbles around until he finds the button he's looking for and he smacks it, probably louder than is necessary. You jump in his arms when the cabin goes black, the only lights filling the space are from some switches on the console, too dim to create a reflection. But, if you turn your head—

"Keep your eyes closed."

You open your mouth to ask the question, then clamp it shut and quickly obey. He regards you for a moment, just a moment. He trusts you. You wouldn't look.

A hand comes up to unclasp his helmet and it falls to the floor with a loud thud. You jump again but keep your eyes closed.

He says your name, voice clear to your ears for the very first time. You shudder in his arms and your brows pull together, like a blanket of warmth just passed over you. He smiles to himself, then his hand drops to grip his leaking cock. He presses the thick tip between your thighs and you twitch before spreading your legs as far as you can manage.

He can't wait any longer — his hips flex and you moan in unison as he slides inside your warm, perfect cunt. The way you clench around him, the noises you murmur in his ear — it all adds to the heat building at the base of his spine since you stepped foot in the cockpit.

"M-Maker—" he groans, "you feel so good."

Then you start to roll your hips, tight pussy gripping and fluttering around his length as you try to fuck yourself in his lap. Your legs drape over his thighs, feet dangling near his ankles, unable to graze the hard metal floor for support, yet you still try to work faster, just so desperate for him.

His hands grip your hips, helping you move. Your eyes are still squeezed shut but your mouth is open, gasping for air every time he pushes back inside to grind against a spot that makes you whine through your teeth.

"I've wanted you so badly, it hurts," you confess shamelessly. Something about not being able to see him makes you feel bold. "I would follow you anywhere, Din Djarin."

He groans and nips at your earlobe. You feel his chest rumble against your back and you smile. Your hand falls to where you're connected and your fingers spread, gasping when you touch him. He's thick and hard and soaked with your arousal.

"I always knew you must have had a nice cock," you whisper, still feeling emboldened with your eyes closed. "No one carries themselves the way you do without having the goods to back it up."

You cry out when his hips snap roughly against your ass, and your entire body is practically bouncing in his lap. If it weren't for his ironclad grip around your middle, you're sure you'd have fallen out of the chair.

"Keep — talking," he grunts. His wet tongue slides slowly up your neck before his lips pucker and he begins to suck a mark that will take days to disappear.

"I— I —" you stammer. He's fucking you so fast now, it's hard to think, let alone form a sentence. "I used to — to think about you — oh, f-fuck, right there—"

"Think about me?" he repeats, ignoring everything else.

"Yes," you hiss, then your hand reaches back to slide through his hair — it's thick and a little curly and you commit the feeling to memory before it's taken from you.

"I would think about you — wh-when I... when I would touch myself."

Your stomach muscles begin to bear down and your thighs go rigid. You're so fucking close, you can taste it.

"Yeah? You thought about me when you made yourself come? Thought about my cock in this tight pussy, just like this?"

His deep voice in your ear makes you shudder.

You nod with your mouth hanging wide open.

"Oh fuck," you whimper when the tip of his cock finds a sensitive spot deep inside. You writhe and roll your hips, eager to find the angle again, but Din knows. He knows what you need and he wants to be the one to give it to you, so his hands still your movements and he rocks upward. You're both breathless and sweaty, but it doesn't matter because he's there — he's right fucking there, right at the spot where you need him the most.

Your mouth creates a combination of noises and melted words. There's no sense to be made when he's fucking you like this. You push back, deepening the angle. You both moan so loudly, it echos, but you barely register it.

His fingers fall to your clit and he starts to swirl messy circles over the throbbing bud. Three, maybe four passes. That's all it takes.

You throw your head back violently, his name ripping from your throat as you cunt clenches around him, pulsing and squeezing. Your stomach flutters, the released tension rippling across your muscles.

He doesn't stop. His fingers move frantically and he fucks you through it until your body sags and you whimper when swatting weakly at his hand.

"That's it, that's my g-girl," he groans, abandoning your clit. He wraps his arm around you instead, keeping you upright so he can thrust into you as hard as he can. You moan and bite at his neck, his ear, his cheek... any part of him that's normally hidden by his helmet. You feel the stubble under your lips and you lick his skin, reveling in the sharp prickle across your tongue.

"Come inside me," you whisper. He makes a choked sound and shakes his head.

"Can't."

"Please?"

His movements grow erratic. He's losing rhythm.

"No, it's — too risky."

"Would that be so bad? Don't y— don't you wonder what it would — be like?"

You're babbling. You sound insane. You don't care.

"Please stop," he begs, then his teeth sink into your shoulder and he pulls out of you roughly, just in time to shoot hot cum all over your inner thighs. He's groaning your name into your skin and he's panting so heavily, you fear he may pass out.

"I'm not —"

Din swallows and then he drags in a deep breath. With your eyes still closed, you start blindly peppering kisses across his cheek.

"I know," you mumble, "I'm sorry."

Suddenly, his fingers pinch your chin and he tilts your head so his lips press firmly against your own. Your heart stops when you first feel what it's like to kiss him — never in your wildest fantasies did you think you would know what his lips felt like. The trust he must have for you makes you weak and you melt, getting lost in the taste of him when his tongue slides into your mouth.

"I wasn't going to give you my child without kissing you first," he murmurs when he pulls back, but he doesn't go far. His forehead rests against yours and he sighs when your hand lifts to get lost in his messy hair.

"Really?" you whisper in disbelief, but you're smiling like a fool.

"Is that something you really want? With me?" he asks. You don't need to see his face, you can hear the doubt — the shock — that you would pick him out of anyone in the galaxy.

You nod and peck a kiss to his lips. "I'm tired of waiting," you tell him. "We almost lost our chance... I don't want to waste another second with you."

He laughs and you grin when his soft exhale fans across your face.

"I will gladly devote my life to you, if you'll have me," he says.

And yes, it feels fast. But what's the point in waiting when everything you want is right in front of you? You very easily could have died, but you were given a second chance.

And you refuse to squander it.

#the mandalorian #mando #mando x reader #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut

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christinamadsen · 5 days ago

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I just started reading chapter 3 and i already finish it! 😧 I'm already done with Frankie's ex. She is so RUDE!! 🤺 OHHH and i really like the tension with these two! 😍 I'm so excited for what to come next!!! 🫣🫣

Buried Secrets Chapter 3: So It Begins

Buried Secrets Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Summary: After the harrowing events in South America, Frankie and the guys have returned home and opened their own private security business. They're eventually approached by an archeologist, named Mya, who is requesting their specialized services for an archeological expedition in the Amazonian jungle of southeastern Peru, hours away from where they stashed Lorea's money just over the border in the mountains of northern Chile.

Frankie is hesitant to accept the job, but with Pope's insistence this could be their cover to go back for the money, he relents. However, Frankie soon learns their new job assignment only further puts them and his new love interest in danger in an unexpected way as they set out to find the lost Incan city of Paititi.

Word Count: 8.5k

👉 Warnings: smut (MDNI), angst, mentions of mental health struggles and past drug use (it's Frankie), there are bad guys with weapons (gun violence, physical violence, death). Frankie Morales comes with his own warnings.

👉 Chapter Warnings: Frankie's ex sucks, the struggles of addiction recovery (it's Frankie), crude guy humor

Chapter Quote: “You’re the expert, I’ll let you strap me down properly.”

Frankie’s POV It had been almost a week since stopping by the gallery to see Mya, but we had been in touch several times to discuss plans and time tables so that she could draw up the contract. We agreed that I would take a small team down early to do a little recon on the area she was planning to explore. She was actually the one to suggest it, relying on me to choose the best place for camp and to plan security protocols based on the geography of the area.

Pope, Benny, Will, and I would be leaving in a matter of days to scout the area. We were also planning a small side mission of our own, hoping to secure Lorea’s money from the canyon we dropped it in nearly two years ago. The possibilities of all the things that could go wrong were weighing heavily on me, so much so that I could feel that old craving for escape prickling under my skin. I was working double time to keep myself distracted from the urge to give in.

The sun was setting over the distant horizon by the time I arrived home from the office. After pulling into the gravel driveway, I sat there for a beat, staring at the small creek that ran through my backyard and the tree limbs blowing in the breeze. I could feel the numbness beginning to set in. The same numbness that always hit before a deployment. I suppose it was my way of compartmentalizing things, my life from the job. It was something I needed to do so that I could focus. It would also make it easier for me to tie up loose ends before I left for an extended time - completely taking my emotions out of the equation.

When I finally got out of the truck, I made a beeline for the little shack that I called my garage, needing to keep my mind and hands busy until I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer. I was in the midst of trying to remove a stuck spark plug when the roar of a motorcycle pulling into the driveway caught my attention. I moved to stand in the doorway as I wiped my hands on a stained and tattered rag, finding Mya kicking her leg over an old black Harley Davidson. The sight probably should have shocked me, but for some reason it didn’t. If anything, something about it felt more natural than her classier persona.

I couldn’t help admiring her curvy figure in tight black jeans and fitted biker jacket as she removed her helmet and shook her hair free around her shoulders. She gave me a small smile as she unzipped the jacket, revealing a tight black t-shirt that showed the slightest hint of midriff and hugged her breast just right before she removed her aviators and hooked them into the collar of her top. The straps from the small leather backpack she wore only seemed to emphasize her chest further, causing her shoulders to retract and back to straighten. Her thick rubber soled boots crunched across the gravel as she approached, her smile widening as she looked me up and down. I knew this version of her would probably haunt my dreams later.

“Hope you don’t mind that I stopped by…I have your documents ready,” she called out.

I huffed out a laugh, “It’s funny, I don’t remember telling you where I live…”

She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal that she knew.

My brows pinched together, “You could at least act like you’re embarrassed about your creepy stalker ways, you know.”

She chuckled, “Why? What’s the point? I already told you I’d been watching you.”

She had no shame, which was somehow even hotter than if she did. I sighed and shook my head as I fought a smile, “Fair point…well, please step into my home office while I clean up.”

I moved aside, allowing her to enter the garage, watching as she appraised the old muscle car taking up most of the space. She walked around the front of it, raising an eyebrow in my direction. “70 Chevelle?” she asked. I nodded. Her lips tugged upward on one side, “Candy Pearl Apple is a nice color choice.”

She continued to surprise me. I didn’t take her for a muscle car aficionado. Then again, she was a fan of old relics, so maybe I shouldn’t have been shocked by it.

I nodded, “Yeah, it was my dad’s. I can’t take the credit for the color choice, but I do like it.”

Her hand slid up the curve of the fender as she peered underneath the open hood, “She run?”

I shrugged, “Depends on your definition of run…I’ve been trying to get her in working order. She spent years sitting with no attention, so she’s been a bit stubborn.”

She was looking at me through her lashes now with that smirk that was quickly becoming my weakness.

“You changing out the spark plugs?” she questioned as she motioned toward the pile that I had already removed.

I sighed, “Yeah, trying to. That last one’s stuck. I’ve sprayed half a can of penetrating oil on it and let it sit for 24 hours. Still no luck…”

She walked over to stand in front of me, tilting her chin upward in her defiant way. “You got a heat gun and socket wrench?”

I knew what she was about to suggest. It was my next step. I didn’t say anything though because I wanted to see where she took this. Instead, I pursed my lips and walked toward the workbench to get the items she asked for and held them up.

She gave me a toothy smile as she moved to tie her hair up, her shirt riding upward to show more skin that I couldn’t help staring at. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she removed her small backpack and leather jacket. She then reached over to snatch the heat gun from my hand, clearly having noticed my wandering gaze. I smiled nervously before turning my attention to the motor. She followed, stretching her torso to lean across the dirty metal to inspect the offending spark plug, causing her shirt to ride up further than it had a moment ago. It took everything in me not to stare at all the newly exposed skin, especially with the hint of a tattoo peeking out along the side of her rib cage. Fuck. Can she get any hotter?

Mya turned on the heat gun, pointing it at her target. Her eyes cut toward me, “If you heat up the cylinder head it’ll cause the metal to expand…then the plug should easily pop out.”

After a few minutes, she held her hand out for the socket wrench. I passed it to her without question, watching her work in silence. I had to put extra effort into focusing on the task at hand, because if I didn’t, my mind was going to wander to some dirty places that involved fucking her on the hood of the vehicle in question. My competency kink was definitely being activated by this.

With several turns of the wrench, the spark plug came loose. She turned toward me, rolling the offending hunk of metal in her fingers with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You already knew how to do that, didn’t you.”

It was a statement, not a question. Busted.

I shrugged, “I did…but I wanted to see if you were actually gonna do it.”

She approached, seeming almost cocky as she came to a stop in front of me, “Frankie, Frankie. You have so much to learn about me. Whether I’ll do something isn’t the question you should be asking…”

I arched a brow as I crossed my arms over my chest, “Oh yeah? What should I be asking then?”

Her lips tugged upward on one side, “What I won’t do is a much shorter list…”

I couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that slipped out at her suggestive tone. Her eyes bore into me, so much so that I felt the need to divert my gaze.

She was testing me, and I was failing. The smirk that I both loved and hated was back on her lips as she held up the part she had just removed and offered it to me, “Here’s your plug. I guess this means you owe me one. I’ll have to think up something creative for my repayment…”

My brows arched as I reached out to take it from her, her fingers lingered against mine for a moment longer than they needed to. When I glanced up at her face, her eyes were focused on our hands, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as something sparked between us. I could feel the warmth from her skin spreading through my body, and for a brief moment, something told me she felt it too. She jerked her hand back, rolling her lips together before turning away.

“Looks like I got a little dirty, mind if I wash up?” she asked.

I shook my head as I watched her avoid my gaze, “Go for it.”

She moved over to the utility sink, taking her time to scrub her hands and wrist clean. When she was finished, she tore a paper towel off from a nearby roll to dry her hands before turning toward me, seeming perfectly at ease in her new environment.

“Well, now that problem is solved…” She reached for her backpack, digging through it before pulling out a thick envelope, “It’s time to get down to business. I have all of your documents ready to go, including the pickup information for our larger equipment that’s being shipped in.”

She paused, pulling out a map, then unfolding it to spread across the workbench. I walked over to stand next to her, feeling the heat of her body from head to toe. She leaned in closer as she moved to point out her plans as she spoke, “These are the centralized coordinates I’m looking at. If we can set up camp as close to here as possible, that would be ideal…but I know it’ll heavily depend on the terrain. So, I’ll need you guys to identify a spot. I plan to explore within a five mile radius of this area, so as time permits before we all get down there…I would like you in the air looking for anything out of the ordinary. It will at least give us a starting point if you see something worth checking out.”

I nodded, taking mental notes of how all of this would fit into our plan to sneak off for Lorea’s money.

She pulled back to peer up at me, “I plan to come down with a small team several days after you guys so I can put them to work clearing the area for camp and cutting paths as needed. There's an old vehicle trail several miles out, but it’s in a poor state. So, I’m not sure how close the vehicles will actually be to camp. Because of that, I wanna make sure we do have the choppers nearby in the event a quick exit is needed…so keep that in mind when finding us a spot to set up.”

I smiled down at her, “I thought security and evac plans were my job…”

She shrugged, “You can’t do your job efficiently if you don’t have all the information.”

I chuckled, noting that her confidence was almost disarming. In all my years I couldn’t recall ever having met someone like her before. I knew that was part of her allure, stealthily sucking me in and awakening something inside me - a new craving that I didn’t understand and couldn’t describe if I tried.

We stared at each other in silence for a beat too long before she turned toward her backpack and began to rummage around in it. I could already tell she was going to make me crazy, I just didn’t know if the weird tension I was feeling between us was real, or purposefully being done by her to throw me off and manipulate me for whatever game I was sure she was playing.

She turned back toward me, waving something in her hand. “I got you a sat phone. I assume you know how to use these?”

I scoffed out a laugh and nodded, “Of course I do.”

She smiled, “Good, less I have to explain…Anyway, hopefully it won’t be confiscated when you land. I’ve preprogrammed my number and a few others in, but I’ve also included a list of them in your paperwork too...just in case.”

I nodded along, taking the phone from her.

“You got the choppers lined up? Everything good to go with your equipment?”

I cleared my throat, “Yeah, all is well. I ended up getting three choppers. Got a deal and thought it might be better since we’ll be doing aerial searches. I got a smaller one for that…it’ll use less fuel.”

That wasn’t something I had discussed with her, so I was curious to see how she would take me acting without her approval. Her brow twitched upward before she nodded, “Ok, that wasn’t a bad idea actually…”

I gave her a toothy grin, feeling like a dopey dog that was just told he was a “good boy”. I needed to rein it in before I let my loneliness take over and cause me to lose focus. This was a job, and I was working for her. It wasn’t an ideal situation to start anything even if I was in the headspace for it.

I sobered, then scratched at my beard, turning my attention back to the map laid out in front of me but not really seeing it. “Well, I’ll go through all of this tonight. I’ll text you if I have any questions.”

I could feel her eyes on me, the energy between us shifting - dissipating as I closed myself off. She seemed to pick up on the change, stepping away to put her jacket back on and collecting her backpack.

“Sounds good. I-I guess next time we see each other, we’ll be sweating our asses off in the middle of the Amazon.”

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes as an uneasiness took over. “Yeah, can’t wait.”

Her eyes were on me, analyzing for the briefest moment before she tilted her chin upward as a means of saying goodbye. Then, she disappeared out the door.

I turned, leaning against the workbench with my arms crossed over my chest as I watched her through the window. After mounting the bike, she sat for a moment, staring toward the garage with a confused look before finally putting her helmet on. She shook her head from side to side as she started the bike, backing out of the driveway without a second glance in my direction.

I sighed, realizing this job was getting more and more complicated with each passing day. It was obvious this woman was about to test me in ways I didn’t even know possible.

The following morning, I awoke already dreading the day ahead. I needed to tell my ex, Maria, that I was leaving town for a job. Given her disdain for me, I knew this conversation wasn’t going to go well. I had to drag myself out of bed, rushing to get ready so I could pop in to see her at work while she was on her break.

When I pulled into the parking lot of the bank, where she now worked as the branch manager, I could feel my anxiety ramping up. I really didn’t want to do this, but I needed her to know that my kid was important to me, regardless of what she thought.

She spotted me as soon as I stepped inside, her purse already on her shoulder as she was on her way out to lunch. Her face tensed, lips setting into a tight line as she moved towards me. She walked past without a word, exiting to the parking lot.

The minute we were alone, she whirled on me, “What the hell are you doing here? Showing up without a warning…”

I expected this, holding my hands up in surrender before speaking. “I’m sorry, I just needed to let you know that I’m leaving town for a job…I’ll be gone for three months, but I’ll be back in time for our court date.”

She scoffed, “A job? Of course. Obviously not much has changed with you.”

I shook my head, “No, this is a legitimate security detail for an archeological dig. It’s not what you think…”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna believe that. I thought you weren’t doing field work anymore? That was obviously a lie, wasn’t it?” Her tone was clipped. Angry. She didn’t care what I had to say.

“I’m making an exception for this one. It’s a major account…a lot of money for our security firm…”

“Yeah, last time you fed me this line of bullshit, Tom came back in a body bag.”

My jaw clenched as I took a steady breath. She was trying her hardest to bait me into an argument already.

Her lips twisted into a smile, “You know what… why am I complaining? Maybe you’ll come back in the bag this time and I won’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

This was typical for her. She really had turned into a cruel person these last couple of years.

I shook my head, attempting to ignore her latest verbal daggers. Instead, I focused on turning the conversation back to my reason for stopping by.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’ve transferred the next three months of child support to your account, plus a little extra. I wanted to see if you need anything else before I go and also give you a number to reach me if needed.”

Her eyes narrowed, I could already tell she was about to spew more vile.

“I don’t need your money, Frankie. Tony makes more than enough to take care of us.”

She said that, yet she didn’t have any problems spending it.

“Well, that’s great…really, but it’s not for you, it’s for my daughter. So, I don’t give a damn if YOU need it. Besides that, I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardize getting my visitation rights restored. So, you’re gonna take the damn money whether you like it or not.”

She snorted out a laugh, “Why can’t you just be an absent father? Life would be so much easier if I didn’t have to deal with your bullshit. Actually…I’m not even gonna argue with you. If you make it back this time, I’m sure you’ll lose your shit again and I won’t even have to worry about it because you’ll ruin it all yourself.”

I stood there, hands on my hips, staring at the pavement as I let her berate me. I didn’t even bother to fight back. Instead, I just nodded along, “Yeah, Ok. Well, I’ll make sure the money goes through before I leave. I’ll text you the number so you have it. If you call and I don’t answer, send a text because the signal may be spotty.”

Her cheeks flushed from anger over the fact she wasn’t getting the response out of me she had hoped for. I was done letting her provoke me. It was proof I had changed, which probably pissed her off further, if she was even willing to acknowledge it.

“I’ll let you get back to your lunch break. I’m sure Tony is waiting for you…”

I didn’t even bother to tell her goodbye, instead turning without another word to head toward my truck. I wasted no time starting the engine and pulling out of the lot. I sat at the red light, counting backwards from ten before taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart.

It didn’t matter how much I tried to mentally prepare myself to deal with Maria, it was never enough. She always knew exactly what to say to make it hurt. On some level, I knew that I probably did deserve some of her hatred, but she didn’t have to be so cruel.”

I could feel that familiar itch, that craving to dull the pain and slip off into oblivion so I could forget about my problems, if only for a short time. I let out a shaky breath, reaching for my phone to call Pope.

He answered on the second ring, sounding breathless and frustrated, “I really hope your interruption of what will probably be my last fuck for the next three months has purpose?”

I snorted out a laugh. That was exactly what I needed right now. His ridiculousness was always a good distraction. “You’ve got one hour to finish that up. Then I wanna get everyone together at my place to go over the plans one last time before we leave tomorrow.”

He sighed, “Fine. Fine. Can’t promise I won’t feed your ass to a jungle croc over this though…now fuck off. You’re wasting my time.”

I was chuckling as the line went dead. I shot off a quick text to Ben to let him and Will know while I waited in the drive thru at the nearest fast food joint, planning to gorge myself on a large chocolate shake and fries as a distraction and hopefully settle my cravings.

We did need to go over things one last time, but I also really needed a diversion after this morning. It forced me to focus on the mission ahead and nothing else. We ended up working late into the evening, planning our time table and going over our packing lists.

We were at Miami International Airport before the sun rose the next morning. After ten hours, we finally touched down in Lima, Peru for our three hour layover to Cusco. Thankfully the flight to Cusco was only an hour because we had to hit the ground running. There was no rest for the wicked after all.

The plan was to stop in Cusco to first pick up our vehicles, then stop at a storage warehouse for our equipment that had been shipped via ocean freight. Once we had everything on board, we finished out the last leg of our journey, which was a nine hour drive to Puerto Maldonado - the southern gateway to the Amazon jungle. After a brief stay at a rented compound to catch up on some rest, we made our way to a private heliport where our choppers awaited us.

Our first order of business was to check out the coordinates Mya had provided us with and find a place to set up camp so that I could report that information back to her. We had that out of the way fairly quickly, managing to find a small field near the coordinates. It would be just big enough to set the birds down. I surmised that we could set up camp around the outskirts under the tree canopy. As hot as it was, we definitely needed the shade.

The proposed area wasn’t too far away from the river and there appeared to be some small waterfalls nearby as well. I figured the water sources might come in handy since we would be there for such an extended period of time. The old road Mya mentioned was about 3 miles out from the location. However, with my view from above, I wasn’t sure how drivable the road was. It definitely didn’t look good. That wasn’t my problem to figure out though. She had guys coming to clear paths for the vehicles, so I would let them worry about it.

I had Pope make note of the coordinates and snap some aerial pictures to send over for Mya to share with her team so that they knew what to expect before they arrived. Once we had everything we needed, we headed back to the heliport to refuel. After calling Mya with the updates, we went off grid for our next adventure and hoped like hell that no one noticed us missing for the next forty-eight hours. As far as anyone was concerned, we were out doing recon on the area with a shitty signal.

It was a fourteen and half hour flight to the coordinates where we stashed Lorea’s money. I also had to find a place to sit the chopper down while we worked to retrieve our prize. Given that we had no idea what state the bags of money or the gorge were in, we didn’t have a good estimation on how much time it would take to retrieve the cash, but we gave ourselves a five hour window to work with.

Even with the auxiliary fuel tanks on board, we still needed to stop and refuel once on the way down and once on the way back. Pope had a contact who was helping with that to keep us off the grid. This contact was also responsible for getting Pope to St. John with our special cargo so that he could meet with the lawyer he had on retainer to set up the payouts from an LLC. If all went according to plan, he would be back with us before we met up with Mya and her team in Puerto Maldonado at the end of the week.

The plan seemed straightforward and fairly risk free. We looked at it from all angles and felt like we had planned for every contingency - or so we thought. Everything was going smoothly, we had a top of the line asset to get us to the location, the weather couldn't have been more perfect, and we were all in good spirits.

After finding a nearby place to land at the top of the mountain, we made our way down to the gorge where the money had been stashed nearly two years ago. Our excitement soon faded once we laid eyes on the area. Several large boulders had dislodged and fallen into the crevice, wedging between the walls and leaving only small openings to the floor below. We could just make out the shadow of the bags through the beams of light shining through the cracks.

Pope sank to his knees in defeat as he surveyed the area. “There has to be some higher power working against us,” he said with an exasperated sigh.

Benny brushed it off, “Naa, come on. There has to be some way around this. Maybe one of us can fit through one of those holes.”

I rubbed at the back of my neck, not having a lot of confidence in that idea as Will and I exchanged a worried glance. We moved, exploring the area to find an opening big enough that would allow one of us to slip through to retrieve the money hidden several hundred feet below. We spent about thirty minutes searching until Benny called out suddenly, excitement on his face as he insisted that he found a spot. We made our way over to have a look, hope blooming in my chest at the possibility.

We all stood around the opening staring at it. Will and I grimaced as Pope kneeled down for a better look.

“What ya think, Pope? Can you fit through that?” Benny asked.

Pope shrugged, “I dunno, maybe. It’s worth a shot. It’s the biggest opening I see. Let’s…uhh…yeah, let’s try it. Get out the harness and rope.”

We worked to get Pope rigged up and lowered him down about 10 feet to the opening. After several failed tries, anger got the best of him as he slung a handheld flashlight against the rock wall. He began muttering out a string of expletives in Spanish as he kicked at the boulder blocking his path. It didn’t budge of course. I huffed in frustration. This wasn’t how I saw this trip going.

Benny snorted, “Well, maybe if he didn’t have an ass the size of a small country, he would fit.”

“Fuck you, Benny,” Pope called out from below us. “Lemme see your giant hulking body make it this far in you fucking troll.”

Pope’s words rolled off Benny as he chuckled at our friend.

“Fish, you think you can fit?” Pope called out to ask.

I leaned over the edge of the cliff, peering down at him and shaking my head. “If you’re not fitting through, I’m definitely not.”

“Yeah, big dick Morales ain’t fitting through that,” Benny said through laughter.

I gave him an admonishing look, “First of all, what the actual fuck? Second, stop being an asshole. I know that’s how you cope with stressful situations but it ain’t helping.”

I heard Will snort out a laugh behind me for calling out his brother.

I sighed, “Alright, let’s pull him up. This obviously isn’t working.”

Once Pope was topside, we stood staring at each other. Frustration was clear on everyone’s face.

“We got any explosives?” Benny asked.

Will shook his head, “That’s too risky. Obviously, we don’t wanna chance all these large rocks falling on top of the money.”

“What if we chisel out the side of the boulder to make the opening bigger?” Pope asked.

Will gave me a questioning look as I grimaced, “I don’t know about that. We don’t fully have eyes on how that thing is being held up. One wrong chip and it could fall down.”

“This is such fucking bullshit…” Pope shouted as he slung the harness he had just removed to the ground.

Benny looked at Pope, “Yeah…too bad your girlfriend and her brother disappeared. I’d bet one of them could fit through that hole.”

“I wish you would shut the fuck up about her,” Pope seethed.

Will stepped between them, “Guys, chill the fuck out. Stop bickering like an old married couple. It’s not solving anything.”

I looked at my watch, we were short on time and we still had to hike back to the chopper.

“We’re running out of time…no more dicking around. We need to figure this out now or go,” I stated matter-of-factly.

Will shook his head, “I’ve got nothing.”

I looked to Pope and Benny, they both shook their heads along with Will.

I huffed out a quiet, “Fuck.”

We spent some more time checking the area for a larger opening before finally giving up. We hiked back to the chopper in silence. I couldn’t help thinking this was our penance for all of the chaos and pain that resulted from the last time we attempted to get this money. The money was cursed, never meant to be ours and destined to rot away in the Andes Mountains.

We were halfway to our refueling point when Pope finally spoke, “We’ve got three months down here. Surely, we can get something figured out before we have to go back.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah, maybe.”

The rest of our trip was quiet as we all stewed in our thoughts. By the time we landed in Puerto Maldonado, I was ready to switch gears and put that disaster out of my mind before I drove myself crazy.

I called Mya that evening to check in, lying my ass off by saying I hadn’t found any areas of interest yet when the truth was we hadn’t been out to look. I wasn’t too worried though, I still had two days to check things out. I wasn’t completely convinced I would find anything anyway. The forest canopy was too thick, making it seem like a wasted effort. She didn’t seem upset or shocked by my response, only replying that she was bringing in some equipment that might help solve that issue.

Before hanging up with Mya, I confirmed her arrival time, which was Friday - two days away. The thought of it caused butterflies to form in my stomach. We were about to be in each other’s vicinity for the next three months in the middle of the fucking Amazon jungle. It was making me feel on edge and anxious. I knew that I would really have to put in the effort to keep things professional. I also needed to make sure the rest of the team did as well.

Early Friday morning, we gathered at the heliport, going over checklists and making sure we had the first wave of needed supplies that Mya requested be flown to the campsite along with our equipment. We had just finished up and were preparing to load everything when Mya and her small team arrived. They were soon followed by five of my team members, including one of the other pilots, who had flown in early to begin their security detail for the small group. We took advantage of the extra muscle and put them to work loading the choppers while Mya and I touched base.

As I listened to Mya make small talk about their trip down, I couldn’t help noticing her more laid back appearance. Her silky dark hair was up in a messy pile on top of her head. Bits of stray strands stuck to the moisture beading on her neck and forehead from the heat. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and I realized that I liked her better without it. The fitted tank top that she was wearing showed just a hint of cleavage, which was only emphasized by the sweat sliding between her breasts. For the first time since we arrived, I wasn’t mad about the high temperatures because of the way it was making her skin glisten in the sun. Her dark fitted cargo pants tucked into her lace up boots further emphasized the curve of her hips and ass in a way that was completely distracting as she walked a few steps in front of me toward the bundles of cargo to be loaded. Everything about her was drawing me in and making my mind go fuzzy.

Her presence quickly became overwhelming, causing me to tune out her words. I snapped back to focus when I noticed the scowling man with greased back hair lurking nearby - the same guy that had interrupted our meeting at the gallery. Mya noticed me eyeing him as I listened to her plans, causing her to pause, her lips curling upward as she waved him over to us.

“Mr. Morales, this is Comandante Veracruz. He’s here as a representative for one of our benefactors supporting the expedition.”

My eyebrow arched at the mention of a benefactor, but I didn’t say anything. The look she gave almost begged me not to.

I smiled, shaking the Comandante’s hand, squeezing a little harder than really necessary. He seemed to do the same as he gave me a smarmy smile.

“Veracruz, this is Frankie Morales. He’ll be in charge of safety and security. He’s also the pilot who’ll be helping me with the aerial searches.”

I released his hand, allowing him to move it to rest on the small of Mya’s back as his eyes scanned over me. His thick Spanish accent and low voice sounded almost threatening when he finally spoke, “Well, it sounds like we will all be spending a lot of time together. Mya and I look forward to working with you.”

My gaze flicked to Mya just in time to catch her eye roll. It didn’t escape my notice (or Mya’s apparently) the way he talked about her, as if they were a unit. His body language was almost possessive, claiming her as his. Mya’s eyes drifted over to meet mine, now trying to read me. It was probably obvious to her that my hackles were raised. Everything about this guy screamed - threat.

I gave Veracruz a tight smile as my gaze moved back to him, “Yeah, I can’t wait to get started. I think it’s definitely gonna be an adventure.”

Adventure definitely wasn’t the word I wanted to use. I could tell this guy was going to be a pain in my ass. I was already hoping he would fall in the river and get eaten by a croc or some other jungle predator.

Mya asked if she could hitch a ride with us to the campsite on the chopper rather than riding in the vehicles and hiking in. I obliged of course, not realizing that meant Veracruz was a package deal. I was half tempted to tell him I couldn’t take both and stick him on the other bird, but I refrained.

Once all of the cargo was loaded, I boarded to begin my preflight ritual. I could hear the guys moving around in the back as they got settled in. Just as I was about to put my headset on, Benny appeared in the cockpit with a toothy grin on his face and holding his arm out as if presenting the open seat next to me.

“Given that the boss lady is ridin’ with us, I think she gets shotgun, don’t you Catfish?”

He leaned back, allowing Mya to squeeze past him so she could sit down. She smirked up at him, “Thanks, Benny.”

He nodded, then turned, shooting me a suggestive wink and smacking my shoulder as he made his way to the back. I sat frozen as I watched his retreating form. I really could have punched him in his pretty boy face for that. My attention turned to Mya, watching as she strapped herself in. She didn’t seem to have any issue figuring out the harness, but she left it too loose.

I nodded toward the buckles, “That’s not secure. You need to tighten it up or else you’ll slip out if we crash.”

I be damned if she didn’t lean back into the seat, causing her chest to stick out further as she held her arms up out of the way. Her lips twitched upward, “You’re the expert, I’ll let you strap me down properly.”

I turned forward, staring out the window for a beat and puffing air out of my cheeks before looking down to unbuckle my harness. I stood, leaning over to tighten her straps. I could feel heat rising up my neck as my fingers grazed over parts of her midsection and chest. I could feel her eyes on me as I worked. When I dared to glance up, I found her staring at my face without blinking. Our eyes locked as I pulled the last strap tighter than it really needed to be. I grabbed the harness with both hands just above her chest, giving it a strong tug to make sure it was buckled securely. Her eyebrow twitched upward just as I felt my jaw tighten. Without a word, I returned to my seat and buckled back in.

Behind me, I could hear the guys laughing about something. I was silently cursing myself knowing they had probably been watching that entire interaction go down. I could already tell, they were not going to make this easy for me.

Once we were in the air, I stayed focused on the controls. I could feel Mya’s eyes on me off and on - more than that, I could just feel her. It was like there was a weird energy humming between us the whole way. I felt a sense of relief when the clearing where we were touching down came into view, but it was only temporary. We wouldn’t be stuck together in an enclosed space for the rest of the day, but I would still be with her - near her. We would be sleeping feet from each other and having meals together. Beyond that, we would be roaming the Amazon jungle, working closely so that I could keep her safe. I sighed, realizing that I needed to focus and get my shit together.

After landing, some of Mya’s team that rode in the other chopper immediately got to work, clearing space and setting up tents and whatever else they had brought along while my team worked on getting the security measures in place. Mya and I were dancing around each other as we handed out orders and worked with our respective groups to get things set up. Though I was busy, I was aware of where she was at all times. I refused to let her out of my sight, at least until I felt better about the security around camp.

Everything was in place by nightfall. We were running through our final equipment checks when Mya approached the small tent with all our surveillance equipment setup inside. She stood by silently, listening to me on the radio with my team as we tested the motion sensing cameras that were strategically placed around the perimeter of camp. Just as I finished up, Veracruz joined us, making his presence known as he leaned in to look at the monitors in front of me along with all the equipment laid out on the folding tables. I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked him in a clipped tone as he picked up a spare motion sensor and began to fiddle with it.

I could see Mya in my periphery, fighting a smile as she turned her head, suddenly becoming interested in something on one of the monitors.

“Are you really relying on a bunch of technology for security in the middle of the jungle?” he asked with a judgmental tone.

I snorted out a laugh, “No. I’m not. I’ve got guys on watch 24 hours a day…walking the perimeter with weapons and on comms. They’ve got night vision too.”

Veracruz nodded, then pointed at the monitors. “How are you running all of this?”

I tried to bite back my condescending laugh. This guy clearly lacked common sense. “Satellites, blue tooth, solar panels…and auxiliary batteries and generators when needed. We’ve got high def cameras with night vision and infrared sensors surrounding the area in addition to all of the hidden motion sensors too. It’s gonna be hard for any person or animal to get through without us knowing.”

Veracruz turned, pausing to stare at the monitors as they cycled through all the camera feeds. That bothered me for some reason. I moved to stand in front of him, blocking his view as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Any more questions I can answer or does that cover it?”

He gave me a tight lipped smile, “I think that covers it.” He moved to leave, pausing to look over at Mya, “You coming?”

She shook her head, “No, actually. I need to talk to Mr. Morales about our plans for tomorrow.”

I could tell he didn’t want to leave her with me as he stood silently for a moment, evaluating his options. He finally nodded, then stalked away toward his tent.

Mya let out a quiet sigh as she watched his retreating form. I wanted to ask her what the deal was with him. Were they together? I didn’t really understand their dynamic. All I knew was I didn’t like the guy or trust him. I figured she wouldn’t tell me the truth if I asked anyway.

I leaned back against the table, meeting Mya’s gaze. “So, how are you feeling about everything now that we’re here?”

I watched as she reached for a folding chair and plopped down into it, raking her hands down her face as she puffed air out of her cheeks.

“It’s…overwhelming and I’m already fucking exhausted.”

I huffed out a laugh, “I can’t argue with that. At least you don’t have to share a tent with three dudes. I’m already banking on not getting any sleep for the next three months.”

She chuckled, “Yeah, you’ve probably got it worse than me.”

Her eyes drifted to the monitor behind me. She nodded toward it with a smirk, “So, you have a camera pointed at my tent?”

I pursed my lips, turning to look at the monitor. I feigned ignorance and shrugged knowing I had placed that one myself. I wanted eyes on her at all times. “We have cameras on several of the tents. Our tent is in the frame too.”

She was giving me a look that said she thought I was full of shit, but I ignored it and changed the subject. “So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow? Are we taking the bird up?”

She nodded, “I’d like to. I know you said the canopy is too thick to see through, so I think before we go up…we need to install some equipment. I got us a LiDAR pod. It’ll give us 3D images of the forest floor...”

I snorted out a laugh, “I know what LiDAR is.”

She shrugged, “I don’t wanna make any assumptions about your knowledge on laser imaging technology.”

I laughed, “I’m sorry, I should appreciate how thorough you are with everything. It has made things easier on my end…”

Her lips curled upward as she peered up at me through her lashes, “I aim to please.”

Fucking hell. Is she doing this shit on purpose? I had to look away. “So… what time would you like to get started?”

She sighed, “As early as possible, I guess. I have a feeling we won’t be able to sleep in even if we wanted to…between the heat and sounds of the jungle…so probably as soon as the sun rises.”

I nodded in agreement, “I assume you know where the LiDAR pod is?”

It was her turn to nod, “Yeah, it’s in the supplies tent…to the right, in a crate. I can help you with it in the morning.”

I huffed out a laugh, “I can handle it.”

She rolled her eyes and held up her hands, “Fine. Whatever.”

That action had some sort of primal feeling bubbling up inside of me that I didn’t really understand. “You really giving me an attitude right now?”

She bit into her bottom lip as she relaxed back against the seat, “Yeah and you better get used to it.”

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as my eyes focused on her mouth. I wasn’t sure if I was aroused or annoyed. Maybe both? I chewed on the inside of my cheek as my eyes narrowed on hers. She stood from the chair with the hint of a smile playing on her lips as she approached me, “And with that, I’ll leave you.”

Her hand came up to rest on my shoulder as she leaned in closer. I couldn’t look at her, instead choosing to stare at a pile of waterproof equipment cases stacked in the corner as she spoke in a low voice, “Don’t stay up too late. You and I have got a looong day tomorrow. Goodnight, Frankie.”

I gave her a small nod of acknowledgement, before she sauntered off toward her tent. I turned, watching her retreating form as I puffed air out of my cheeks. I really couldn’t figure this woman out.

I grabbed the chair Mya had just vacated, pulling it over in front of the monitors to sit down. The monitor in front of me cycled through to the camera facing her tent. My fingers moved of their own volition to zoom in. My eyes were drawn to the opening. She had zipped the netting closed, but not the cover. I could see her moving around inside, pacing as she flipped through what looked like the worn leather journal I had seen in her office. She chewed on her thumb nail as she scanned the pages, eventually closing it and sighing heavily before tossing it onto a nearby table. She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head revealing her black bra straps hugging her back as she moved through the curtain that divided her tent into another section.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and switched to another camera view of the jungle. I shouldn’t be watching her like that. It was wrong and was one hundred percent egging on the hungry animal inside of me that was begging to be let out. I was so fucked.

About an hour later, one of my team members came to relieve me of my duties in our little security headquarters so I could get some rest. Our tent sat next to Mya’s. I couldn’t help staring toward it as I walked, noting that it was now completely dark. I sighed to myself as I stepped into our home away from home.

Our living quarters weren't that bad. We had lived in worse conditions when we were in the military. The tent as a whole was completely enclosed, with a tarp-like bottom that was attached to the walls so no animals or insects could get inside. It was fairly sizable with one large room where we had cots lined down the sides of it. We had a folding table and some chairs in the far corner and a few smaller folding tables we used as night stands. We had made it as homey as we could. There was a separate smaller room that we used to store our personal items, equipment, and weapons. We also used it for privacy when needed.

I found the guys already passed out in their cots. Benny and Will were both snoring loudly. Pope was lying on his stomach with a pillow over his head. I rolled my eyes at the sight, not even bothering to be quiet as I moved around to prepare for bed.

I lay in my cot, listening to the sounds of the jungle outside. As our little camp compound grew quiet, the animals grew louder. Loud enough, it almost blocked out the sound of the snores beside me. I tried to focus on the sounds of the frogs and insects and allow them to lull me to sleep, but my mind kept wandering to thoughts of Mya. I wondered if the jungle sounds would keep her awake or if she was sleeping through it. I thought about the way she had looked at me today. I thought of how soft the skin of her back looked when she pulled her shirt over her head.

I could already feel myself getting hard with the path my thoughts were taking. After letting out a measured breath, I turned to my side. The firmness of the cot and the way it curved upward quickly took my mind off Mya as my shoulder began to ache from the odd angle. I huffed and turned onto my back again. At that point, I somehow managed to shut my mind off and drift to sleep with the sounds of the Amazon rainforest playing in the background, now completely drowning out my snoring roommates.

Chapter 4: X Never Marks the Spot

A/N: Happy Monday, my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed the latest installment. Things are really going to start picking up next chapter now that the gang is all together. Mya is pretty stuck in her defiant ways and it absolutely drives Frankie insane as they set out to explore some interesting readings on the LiDAR scans. Veracruz will be Veracruzing hard. There will also be lots of complaining and jokes from the guys too.

As for this chapter's discussion...

Mya is really laying it on thick with Frankie. How much of her behavior is just fucking with him and how much of it is wanting to fuck him do we think?

Frankie is obviously attracted to her, but he's fighting it. Do we think he will break first? Or will she?

How we feeling about Frankie's ex?

The guys have run into a bit of a problem with getting that money. How do you think they will solve it? If only Pope didn't have an ass the size of a small country...😂

How much hell you think the guys are going to give Frankie over Mya? Benny has clearly already started.😏

Veracruz is already staking his claim. How do you think things are going to play out with him and Frankie?

And just an honorable mention, something about nerdy tech savvy Frankie is kind of hot, right?

Lastly, I felt it important to emphasize how loud the jungle is at night. Especially when everyone has their tents so close together...just keep that in mind for later.😆

Until next time, 💜Mysty

Group 1 Tag List:

@2birdsofafeather @72scsuze @76bookworm76 @a-beautiful-but-sassy-world @almostfoxglove

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @annalovesflorida @anniet852 @ashleyfilm @ashlovesdrpepper

@auteurdelabre @avastrasposts @biggetywitch @bitchwitch1981 @bluestar22x

@bunniboo0015 @burntheedges @captainredspade @chaoticfestninja @cheekychaos28

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@elisabethloves @fifitheragertot @for-a-longlongtime @girlofchaos @guelyury

@harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @imdrinkingpedro @jackie923 @janeie87

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #triple frontier #new chapter #frankie goes on an adventure #and gets his fucking money

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christinamadsen · 5 days ago

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First poster of ‘MATERIALISTS’

#chris evans #dakota johnson #pedro pascal #materialists

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christinamadsen · 6 days ago

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GOD DAMN! I love kinky men 🤤🥰

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #zaddy pedro #my bae for life 😍😍#pedrohub #daddy pedro

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christinamadsen · 6 days ago

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Noooo! The cliffhanger gets me everytime!🫣

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.8

Chapter Eight: He Got My Heartbeat Skipping Down 16th Avenue

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Making Out, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck, Heavy Overthinking, Boats, Cruise Dinner,

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Let’s all collectively pray that Pedro doesn’t EVER read any of my work god bless and thank you.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING

Pedro is sitting across from you, his long legs stretched out under the small table, his ankle brushing against yours every so often. He’s comfortable here, like he belongs in your space. And maybe he does.

He’s been hovering, checking on you, bringing you food, tucking you in with the kind of care that has your heart doing somersaults in your chest. And now, he’s looking at you with something warm in his gaze, something almost nervous.

“I was thinking,” he starts, running a hand through his curls, “we should go out this weekend. Like… a proper date.”

You blink at him. Once. Twice.

“Like… a date date?” You blurt out, immediately wanting to crawl under the table.

Pedro grins, dimples and all. “Yeah, a date date.”

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Believe it, sweetheart.”

“This weekend, though?” you say, suddenly remembering. “That’s when I get my stitches out.”

Pedro shrugs, easy and nonchalant. “Then we’ll do that together.”

Your breath hitches slightly. Together.

You bite your lip, glancing down at the table, at your hands, at anything but him because if you look at him too long, you might melt into a puddle.

“Okay,” you murmur, barely above a whisper.

His fingers brush yours, a soft touch, grounding you. “Okay.”

A two days pass.

Pedro never really leaves.

He’s in your room every night, sleeping beside you, taking care of you like it’s second nature. He wakes up earlier than you, presses a soft kiss to your temple before leaving for set, and every time you open your eyes, there’s a fresh cup of coffee waiting on the nightstand with a little note written on the hotel’s stationary.

Drink your coffee, take your meds, miss me a little.

You always do.

To pass the time while he’s gone, you draw. You sketch the view outside your window, the way the evening light filters through the curtains, the memory of his hands on your skin. Sometimes you hum to yourself, letting your voice fill the quiet. Sometimes you read, but you’re always careful when Pedro’s around because you still haven’t recovered from the time he caught you reading fanfiction and you had to pretend it was something entirely not about him.

And every night, he returns, drops his things by the door, and makes himself at home in your space, even though he has a perfectly good—larger—room of his own.

“You know, your bed is way bigger than mine,” you point out one night, arms crossed as you watch him steal your pillow like it’s his pillow.

He smirks, slipping under the covers like he owns the place. “I like yours better.”

You narrow your eyes. “Liar.”

He grins, stretching his arms behind his head. “It’s not the bed, sweetheart. It’s the company.”

You stare at him, heart flipping over itself.

Yeah.

You’re absolutely, utterly, completely screwed.

Pedro stretches out on your bed, like he belongs there, like he’s always belonged there. His arm is tucked behind his head, his shirt slightly rumpled from the long day, and his legs are sprawled out like he has no concept of personal space.

You huff, crossing your arms as you stand at the foot of the bed. “You know, I wasn’t actually inviting you to take over my bed.”

He smirks, patting the spot beside him. “And yet, here I am.”

You squint at him. “You have a room, Pedro.”

He tilts his head, eyes softening as he watches you. “Yeah, but I like this one better.”

Your stomach flutters at that, but you roll your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words affect you. Instead, you climb into bed, careful of your stitches, and settle into the pillows.

Pedro turns on his side, facing you, head propped on his hand. His gaze flickers over you, slow and thoughtful, like he’s cataloging every little detail. It makes your skin heat.

“You feeling okay?” he asks, his voice dipping into something softer.

You nod. “I’m fine, Pedro.”

His lips press into a line, like he doesn’t quite believe you. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

You exhale, heart warming at the concern written all over his face. “Yes, mother hen.”

Pedro snorts. “Good. I was this close to spoon-feeding you soup earlier.”

Your mouth falls open. “What?”

He grins. “What? You were ignoring your food, I was getting worried.”

You groan, flopping onto your back. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”

Pedro laughs, the deep, raspy sound wrapping around you like a blanket. “What’s embarrassing about me taking care of you?”

You peek at him from beneath your arm. “Everything.”

He hums, reaching out to toy with the hem of your sleeve. “Better get used to it, sweetheart.”

Your breath catches.

Because he says it like a promise.

Like he’s not planning on going anywhere.

The thought is dizzying, and you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod.

Pedro watches you for a beat before exhaling, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. The room plunges into darkness, except for the sliver of city lights filtering through the curtains.

You’re left facing each other in the quiet, breaths mingling in the small space between you.

Then—

“Hey.”

His voice is low, sleep-rough.

“Yeah?”

There’s a pause.

Then, “This is nice.”

You swallow. “What is?”

“This.” His fingers brush yours in the dark. “Being here. With you.”

Your heart stutters.

You don’t know what to say to that, but you don’t have to, because Pedro just squeezes your hand before settling back against the pillow.

And slowly, slowly, you drift off, feeling safe.

Pedro wakes up early for set, always making sure you have everything you need before he leaves. Sometimes, that means tucking an extra pillow behind your back or leaving a bottle of water on your nightstand. Other times, it means making sure your phone is within reach or adjusting the curtains just enough so the morning sun doesn’t hit your eyes too harshly.

But the constant, the one thing he never forgets, is pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before slipping out the door, murmuring a gruff, "I’ll be back soon, sweetheart."

And throughout the day, his texts come like clockwork.

Pedro: Did you eat?

Pedro: Did you take your meds?

Pedro: What are you doing right now?

Pedro: Do you miss me? 😉

You roll your eyes every time he sends that winky face, but you still answer.

You: Maybe.

And every evening, without fail, he comes back.

Some nights, he brings dinner—tossing a greasy paper bag onto the bed, giving you an easy smile as he shrugs, “Figured you could use some real food instead of whatever sad snack you had today.”

Other nights, he’s dead on his feet, barely making it out of his clothes before collapsing onto the bed beside you. His body is heavy with exhaustion, but he still turns to you, nuzzling his face into your shoulder, voice scratchy and thick with fatigue as he mumbles about his day.

And then there are nights when you wake up for no reason at all—just a shift in the air, a change in the silence—only to find him already awake, propped up on one elbow, just looking at you.

Like you hung the damn stars.

You don’t ask him what he’s thinking.

You don’t have to.

It’s late, and Pedro is stretched out beside you on his stomach, chin resting on his folded arms, watching as your pencil glides over the page. His breathing is steady, slow—content. The air between you is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. It’s warm, familiar.

And then, he notices.

His brows furrow, lips quirking as he tilts his head. “Is that me?”

You freeze, fingers tightening around your pencil.

He smirks. “That’s me.”

Shit.

“No, it’s not.” Your voice comes out too quick, too defensive. You clear your throat. Cool it. “It could be anyone.”

Pedro pushes himself up onto one elbow, squinting at the page. “Sweetheart.” His voice is a slow drawl, playful but laced with certainty. “You literally sketched my face.”

You purse your lips. “That’s just, like… a coincidence.”

His smirk deepens. “A coincidence.”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh.” He shifts closer, propping himself up just enough so he can rest his chin on your shoulder. His breath is warm against your skin. “Am I your muse?”

You groan, shoving his face away, heat crawling up your neck. “Shut up. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He chuckles, easily catching your wrist before you can retreat, fingers curling around yours. His thumb brushes over your pulse, slow and deliberate.

His voice softens. “I like it.”

You don’t look at him, but your lips curve just slightly, betraying you.

And Pedro sees it.

And Pedro feels it.

And before you can even think of another excuse, another deflection—

He presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, lingering just long enough to make your pulse stutter.

“Draw me again sometime,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing. “I promise I’ll pose for you.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t say no.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — MORNING

Saturday morning arrives in a slow haze of golden light filtering through the curtains. You stretch beneath the covers, wincing slightly when you feel the dull ache from your stitches. Right. Today’s the day.

You’re finally getting them removed.

Pushing yourself upright, you glance over at Pedro, still sprawled across your bed like he belongs there. One arm is draped over his eyes, the other resting lazily across his chest, his breathing slow and even.

You shake your head, smiling softly as you slip out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up. By the time you’re dressed and ready to leave, Pedro is awake—barely. He groans as he stretches, blinking blearily at you.

“You’re up early,” he rasps, voice thick with sleep.

You arch a brow. “We have somewhere to be, remember?”

He hums, rubbing a hand down his face before propping himself up on one elbow. His curls are a mess, sticking up in different directions, and his shirt is wrinkled from sleep. It’s ridiculously endearing.

“Right,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Your stitches.”

You nod, pulling on your shoes. “You still coming with me?”

Pedro swings his legs over the edge of the bed, cracking his neck. “Sweetheart, I offered to take you.” He stands, stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to expose a sliver of his stomach. “You think I’m backing out now?”

You huff a small laugh. “Just checking.”

He grins, stepping closer to ruffle your hair. You bat his hand away, but the warmth lingers.

As you both step out of the room, you glance up at him. “So… where are we going later? You know, for our date?”

Pedro smirks, slipping his hands into his pockets. “It’s a surprise.”

You narrow your eyes. “Pedro.”

He chuckles. “What? You don’t trust me?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “That’s not the issue.”

“Mm,” he hums, tilting his head. “Then what is?”

You hesitate before muttering, “What if I want to dress accordingly?”

Pedro stops walking, turning fully to face you, a slow smile spreading across his lips. He leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “Sweetheart, you’d look good in anything.”

Your face heats instantly, and Pedro knows it. He winks, then gestures toward the exit. “Now c’mon, let’s go get you fixed up so you can stop wincing every time I kiss you.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is racing.

Today is going to be interesting.

ER — EARLY AFTERNOON

You’re so glad you both decided to go to the ER in the morning—because by the time your name is finally called, it's nearly lunchtime.

Pedro has been nothing but patient the entire time, keeping you distracted with quiet jokes and subtle touches, his knee knocking against yours, his fingers occasionally brushing your wrist. He’s dressed inconspicuously—cap pulled low over his curls, dark-framed glasses perched on his nose, and a coat zipped up against the chill outside. You’re bundled up too, matching his casual, low-key look, though you both know that if anyone really paid attention, Pedro Pascal in an ER wouldn’t stay unnoticed for long.

A nurse leads you into a small examination room, offering you a kind smile as she checks your chart. “So, you’re here to get some stitches removed?”

You nod, shifting on the paper-lined exam table. “Yeah. The doctor said they should be good to come out today.”

She hums, scanning the notes. “Looks like everything healed up nicely.” She glances up, curiosity in her eyes. “How’d you end up needing stitches in the first place?”

You hesitate for a split second, not really sure how to phrase it. Before you can come up with something, Pedro, who has been leaning against the counter with his hands tucked into his coat pockets, chimes in—voice warm, effortlessly charming.

“She saved my life.”

Your head snaps in his direction, brows shooting up.

The nurse's eyes widen slightly. “Oh?”

You groan. “Pedro.”

He just shrugs, casual as ever, like he wasn’t just out here making you sound like some hero in a dramatic action film.

“It’s not a big deal,” you mumble, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Other people would’ve done the same.”

Pedro tilts his head, leveling you with a look over the rim of his glasses. “Doesn’t make it any less impressive, cariño.”

The nurse smiles, clearly entertained by the exchange. “Well, whatever happened, sounds like it was quite the ordeal.” She wheels over a small tray with supplies and snaps on a pair of gloves. “Let’s get these stitches out, then.”

Pedro stays close, watching as the nurse works with practiced ease. The removal doesn’t hurt, just a slight tugging sensation as the stitches come free. Still, Pedro’s hand rests on your knee, thumb stroking over the fabric of your jeans—a silent reassurance.

“All done,” the nurse announces after a few moments. “Everything looks great. Just be gentle with the area for the next few days, but you’re good to go.”

You exhale, relieved. “Thank you.”

The nurse smiles, then glances between you and Pedro before adding with a knowing glint, “And try to keep out of trouble.”

Pedro laughs, slipping his hand into yours as he helps you down from the table. “No promises.”

Your face burns as you leave the room, Pedro’s fingers still loosely laced with yours.

Outside, he tugs his cap lower, the corner of his lips twitching. “So, officially stitch-free now. How do you feel?”

You glance up at him. “Pretty good.”

He grins. “Good enough for our date?”

Your stomach flips. “Yeah,” you murmur. “Good enough for that.”

You don’t realize you’re still holding Pedro’s hand until he gives it a small squeeze, tugging you ever so slightly closer as the two of you step outside the hospital doors. The cold air nips at your cheeks, but the warmth of his touch lingers, grounding you.

“So,” you say, exhaling, “where are we going?”

Pedro’s lips curl into a smirk, his breath visible in the crisp air. “You’ll see.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

He just grins and tugs you along, leading you toward a waiting car.

LITTLE VENICE — GOLDEN HOUR

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this.

The two of you stand by the water’s edge, the amber glow of the setting sun reflecting off the canal. The air smells of autumn—crisp leaves and the distant scent of warm pastries from a nearby café. Houseboats bob gently along the docks, their string lights flickering to life as the sky shifts from gold to dusky lavender.

Your breath catches. “This is…” You trail off, taking it all in.

Pedro watches you, his expression soft. “Pretty great, huh?”

You turn to him, eyes wide. “How did you—?”

He shrugs, looking unfairly pleased with himself. “Heard you mention you’ve never been.”

Your chest tightens at that. You can barely remember when you’d said that, but clearly, he had remembered.

Before you can even process how much that means, Pedro’s gently guiding you toward one of the docked boats—a narrow, beautifully restored canal boat, its deep blue paint glossy beneath the fading sunlight. A small sign by the entrance reads PRIVATE EVENING CRUISE — RESERVATIONS ONLY.

Your eyes snap to his. “Pedro.”

His smirk widens. “Surprise.”

A thrill rushes through you as a staff member greets you both, ushering you aboard. The interior is stunning—cozy and warm, with plush seating, soft lighting, and a table set for two near the window. A bottle of wine waits in an ice bucket, next to a selection of small plates: fresh bread, olives, cheese, and a few things you don’t immediately recognize.

You glance up at Pedro, still slightly stunned. “You planned all this?”

He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little bashful. “Wanted to do something special.”

Your heart melts.

You don’t trust yourself to say anything, so instead, you take his hand and squeeze, letting your fingers linger. He squeezes back.

As the boat begins to move, gentle ripples breaking the canal’s glassy surface, Pedro pulls out a chair for you. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice warm. “Let’s make a night of it.”

The conversation flows as effortlessly as the water beneath you. Pedro pours you a glass of wine, the deep red liquid swirling in your glass as you sip and listen to him recount stories from set—his voice low, expressive, endlessly captivating.

You find yourself laughing a lot, warmth bubbling in your chest.

“You laugh when you’re nervous,” Pedro notes, watching you over the rim of his glass.

You blink. “I do not.”

His lips twitch. “You so do.”

You huff, taking another sip. “Maybe you just make me nervous.”

The words leave your mouth before you can think better of them, and your face burns as you realize what you just admitted.

Pedro stills. Then he leans in, elbows resting on the table, gaze darkening just slightly. “Yeah?”

You swallow hard. “I—”

He tilts his head. “Is that a bad thing?”

Your pulse skips. “No.”

A slow smirk spreads across his face. He doesn’t push further, just settles back into his chair with a knowing look that should be illegal.

The boat rocks gently, candlelight flickering between you.

For a moment, neither of you speak—just watching, feeling, knowing.

Then Pedro shifts, reaching for another piece of bread. “You gonna sketch this later?”

You roll your eyes, grateful for the reprieve from the intensity of his gaze. “Oh, absolutely. I’m going to document the exact moment Pedro Pascal got all smug on our first date.”

He barks out a laugh, then leans across the table, voice teasing. “First date, huh?”

You freeze.

He grins. “That mean I get a second one?”

Your heart thunders.

“I—” You clear your throat, gathering your composure. “I guess that depends.”

“On?”

You chew your lip, watching the way his gaze flickers down to your mouth.

“On whether or not you’ll keep making that stupid face at me.”

Pedro laughs, full-bodied and warm, before leaning back with an easy shrug. “Can’t promise anything, sweetheart.”

He pours the last of the wine into your glass, his fingers brushing yours as he sets the bottle down. It’s nothing, just a casual touch, but it still sends a shiver up your spine.

He notices.

His eyes flicker over your face, his smirk softening into something quieter, something warmer.

“So,” he says, tilting his head, “you already know way too much about me. Feels a little unfair.”

You raise a brow. “Do I?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he says, grinning. “You’ve seen me exhausted. You’ve seen me half-asleep, drooling on your pillow.”

You let out a tiny laugh. “You don’t drool.”

“Cariño, I definitely do.”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

Pedro’s lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually ask. Then he leans in, resting his chin on his palm, considering you.

His voice dips, softer now. “What made you want to do what you do?”

It’s such a simple question, but the way he asks it—the genuine curiosity in his voice—has you gripping your wine glass a little tighter.

You shrug, exhaling. “I guess I always liked… creating things. Bringing ideas to life. It never felt like a choice, really. More like something I had to do.”

Pedro hums, like he understands.

“Plus,” you add, a little teasing, “it keeps me busy. Gives me something to do when I’m not babysitting actors.”

Pedro laughs, head tipping back slightly. “Ouch.”

You grin. “You set yourself up for that one.”

He shakes his head, eyes bright as he watches you. “You’re dangerous.”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach flip.

You swallow, setting your glass down. “What about you?”

Pedro blinks.

You tilt your head. “Why acting?”

He exhales, running a hand through his curls. “I mean… I could give you some poetic answer about storytelling and human connection, but honestly?” He leans in slightly, eyes twinkling. “I just really loved movies as a kid.”

Your heart melts.

“That’s it?” you ask, smiling.

Pedro shrugs, but there’s something earnest in his gaze. “I wanted to be part of them. That feeling you get when you watch something really good—when it stays with you? I wanted to do that for someone else.”

You don’t realize you’re smiling until Pedro mirrors it, his own expression softening.

There’s a lull, comfortable and easy, the boat rocking gently beneath you.

You should be relaxed.

But suddenly, your chest feels tight.

Because you want this.

Not just tonight. Not just stolen moments in hotel rooms or quiet laughter over takeout. You want—

Him.

All of him.

And that realization terrifies you.

Because you know what this means.

If you and Pedro were to actually—god—date, you’d have to go through HR. There’d be paperwork, meetings to ensure everything was above board. And then there was PR.

You knew how this worked. You’ve watched enough rom-com movies and read so many romance books. The moment someone snapped a picture of the two of you—walking too close, looking at each other too long—it’d be everywhere.

And what if—oh god—what if it didn’t work out? What if everything unraveled and suddenly the easy, warm thing you had with Pedro turned into something awkward and painful and—

“You okay?”

His voice pulls you back.

You blink, realizing you’d gone too quiet. Pedro is watching you, head slightly tilted, concern flickering across his face.

You inhale sharply, pasting on a smile. “Yeah.”

His gaze lingers and he reaches for your hand, fingers tracing over your knuckles, grounding you.

And you let him.

Pedro’s fingers brush against yours, absentmindedly tracing circles on your skin. It’s distracting, in the worst—and best—way possible. Because while your brain is busy spiraling into the logistics of dating him (HR, PR, and the absolute circus that would come with it), your body is attuned to something else entirely.

The warmth of his touch.

The way his thumb skims your knuckles, slow and deliberate.

The fact that he’s still looking at you, waiting.

You should pull away.

You don’t.

Instead, you let yourself revel in the moment—the quiet intimacy of it. The unspoken something humming between you.

Pedro tilts his head slightly, his voice dipping into something lower and softer. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Shit.

You wet your lips, glancing away. “Nothing.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh. “Liar.”

Your fingers twitch beneath his, but Pedro doesn’t let you go. If anything, he tightens his grip, his thumb grazing along the inside of your wrist. Your pulse stutters beneath his touch, and the bastard notices.

His mouth quirks. “You gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?”

You exhale, trying for nonchalance. “I was just thinking about… logistics.”

Pedro’s brows lift. “Logistics?”

You nod, keeping your eyes trained on where your hands rest between you. His are warm, calloused, steady—while yours feel like they’re trembling.

He waits, because he’s patient.

You swallow. “You and me.”

That catches his attention. His fingers still against yours. “You and me?” he repeats, as if he needs clarification.

You nod again, throat tightening. “If we—” You hesitate, glancing up at him. “I mean, if we—”

Pedro leans in, smirking. “Sweetheart, if you say ‘if’ one more time, I’m gonna start thinking you don’t actually want this.”

Your face warms. “That’s not—”

“Because I do.”

That shuts you up.

Pedro watches as your lips part, but no words come out. He squeezes your hand gently, his voice quieter now. “I want this. I want you.”

Your breath hitches.

He’s serious.

Gone is the teasing, the playful back-and-forth you’ve come to expect. Instead, there’s something raw in his expression. Something real.

It terrifies you.

It thrills you.

Because god, you want him too. You want the hand-holding and the stolen kisses. The nights spent talking until dawn, and the mornings where he’s still half-asleep, murmuring your name against your skin.

But it’s not that simple.

Your job. His job.

The entire world watching.

You press your lips together. “Pedro—”

“I know,” he says, before you can voice the fear curling in your stomach. He squeezes your hand again. “I know what you’re thinking. The press, the attention, the PR nightmare.” His lips twitch. “HR paperwork.”

You groan. “It’s a lot.”

“It is.”

You glance up at him, finding nothing but understanding in his gaze.

“But,” he continues, voice steady, “none of that changes how I feel about you.”

Your heart lurches.

He exhales, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Look, we don’t have to figure everything out tonight. We don’t have to rush into anything.” His lips curve. “But I do think we should stop pretending like this isn’t happening.”

You bite your lip, hesitating.

Pedro watches you for a moment, then—so softly—he murmurs, “I mean, we’re literally on a date right now.”

You exhale shakily, still nervous, still unsure.

But when you meet his gaze, all you see is him.

The man who stays with you every night, who takes care of you, who watches you like you hung the damn stars.

And suddenly, the choice doesn’t seem so complicated.

You nod. “Okay.”

Pedro grins, squeezing your hand once more before lifting it to press a lingering kiss to your knuckles.

“Good,” he murmurs, against your skin. “About damn time.”

The night air is cool against your skin, a crisp contrast to the warmth still lingering between you and Pedro. You stand beneath the glow of the streetlamp, hands tucked into the pockets of your coat, shifting on your feet as you both wait for the car to pull up.

The date had been perfect—sweet, intimate, just the right mix of playful and real. And now, in the quiet of the evening, with the city humming softly around you, the weight of it all settles in your chest.

You glance up at him. “Thank you for tonight.”

Pedro turns his head, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Of course.”

“I mean it,” you say, voice softer now. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

He raises a brow, smirking. “Sweetheart, it was a date. That’s kinda the point.”

You huff out a laugh, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Yeah, but I would’ve been just as happy staying in bed, cuddling and watching TV.”

Pedro tilts his head, considering. “Noted.” He slips his hands into his coat pockets, rocking back on his heels. “So next time, we skip the fancy dinner and go straight to you wrapped up in my arms?”

Your face heats. “That’s not—”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m hearing.”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “I walked into that one.”

Pedro chuckles, stepping closer, ducking his head slightly so you can’t hide from him. “You really did.”

You peek at him between your fingers, and he’s watching you with that same look—the one that makes your stomach flip, the one that makes you forget about all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this.

Sighing dramatically, you drop your hands and shake your head. “I’m probably gonna have to put all my social media on private after this, huh?”

Pedro snorts. “That or just straight-up deactivate.”

You groan again. “Great.”

“Hey.” He nudges you this time, his smile teasing but fond. “I’ll protect you.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, sure. From the merciless Twitter discourse?”

He grins. “From everything.”

Your breath catches.

Because he says it so easily, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like he means it.

The car pulls up, but you don’t move, and neither does he. The world around you feels smaller somehow, quieter, like the streetlamp glow is its own little universe where it’s just you and Pedro, standing too close, staring too long.

And then—so softly—he says, “C’mon, let’s go back to the hotel.”

And you do.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING

The ride back to the hotel is drenched in a thick, unspoken tension. Not awkward, not uncomfortable — just heavy with the weight of what now?.

You sit next to Pedro in the back of the car, closer than you probably should be, his thigh pressed against yours, his arm casually draped along the seat behind you. Every bump in the road shifts you slightly closer to him, and neither of you do anything to stop it.

Your heart hasn’t stopped hammering since dinner. Every time you glance at him — out of the corner of your eye — you catch him already looking at you. Smiling that soft, fond smile like he’s already memorized the shape of your mouth, the slope of your nose, the exact way your eyes light up when you laugh.

And god, you’re fucked.

Because now you want him. Like, really want him. Not just in the dreamy, faraway way you did when you first met him — but in a raw, aching, desperate way. You want his mouth on yours again. You want his hands gripping your waist like he can’t get enough of you. You want him in your bed, in your space, in your life.

But you also know what happens if you let this happen. The HR meetings. The PR nightmares. The rumors. The tabloids. And oh god, what happens if someone already snapped a photo of you tonight? Did you already trend on Twitter without knowing it? Did DeuxMoi already post something? Is your inbox about to implode?

You feel sick.

Pedro must notice the shift in your expression because his hand gently grazes your knee. “You okay?”

Your head snaps up. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m just—thinking.”

He smiles. “About?”

About how I want you so bad it’s physically painful.

About how I’m probably already in love with you and I’m gonna ruin my entire career if I act on it.

About how you’re gonna kill me when you find out how unprofessional this is.

“…Stuff.” You force a laugh. “Good stuff. Don’t worry.”

Pedro’s quiet for a beat, like he can see right through you. Then, softly — “You’d tell me if something was wrong, yeah?”

Your throat constricts. God, why did he have to care so much? Why did he have to be so good and sweet and thoughtful — it just made you fall harder.

“Yeah,” you rasp. “I’d tell you.”

The car slows in front of the hotel entrance. Your stomach flips. Pedro shifts, his hand grazing your thigh as he reaches for the door. “C’mon.”

You step out into the evening chill, and Pedro is already there — waiting for you, like he always does. His hand brushes the small of your back as you both head inside, and it takes everything in you not to lean into it.

The lobby is quiet, warm light casting golden shadows across the marble floors. You barely register the receptionist’s polite smile as you pass. All you can think about is him. The warmth of his touch. The scent of his cologne. The way you’re about ten seconds away from inviting him upstairs.

The elevator doors open. Pedro gestures for you to step inside first.

And the silence kills you.

Your heart is a hammer. Your pulse is thick in your throat. Neither of you speak, but you can feel it — the tension, the pull, the gravitational force tethering you to him.

Finally — just to break the silence — you clear your throat. “Thanks again for tonight. Seriously.”

Pedro’s mouth curves into a small smile. “I should be thanking you. I haven’t had a night like that in… a long time.”

Your chest aches. “You didn’t have to do all that, y’know.”

“I wanted to.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I wanted to take you out. I wanted to see you laugh. I wanted to… just be with you. Is that so hard to believe?”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

The elevator dings. You almost jump.

Pedro steps out first, waiting for you. The walk down the hallway is agonizing. Not because it’s long — but because every step feels like a countdown to goodnight.

You reach your door. Your hand fumbles with your keycard. “So, um—” You force a laugh. “I guess this is—”

Pedro cuts you off. “Do you want it to be?”

Your mouth goes dry.

“…What?”

“This. The end of the night.” He’s watching you like he already knows your answer. “Do you want me to say goodnight and leave?”

The air crackles. You physically cannot speak.

“…No,” you breathe. “I don’t.”

Pedro’s mouth quirks. And then — without breaking eye contact — he slips his hand into his back pocket and pulls out your spare room key.

Your jaw drops. “You still have that?”

He twirls it between his fingers, smirking. “Told you. Your bed’s better.”

“Oh my god,” you choke out, covering your face. “That’s not even—”

“I’m serious.” He steps closer. Close enough that your breath tangles with his. “I don’t wanna leave. Not yet. Not when I finally have you here — really here — with me.”

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

Your mouth crashes into his before you can stop yourself — desperate, hungry, wild. His hands find your waist, pulling you against him with a groan, like he’s been starving for you all night. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, and Pedro growls into your mouth.

“Jesus fuckin’—” he gasps, dragging you toward the bed. “Been thinking about this all night, sweetheart.”

“Same,” you breathe, your back hitting the mattress.

Pedro laughs, low and rough. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you admit, breathless. “You—god, you have no idea how bad.”

His mouth devours yours again, tongue brushing yours in a kiss so deep it leaves you lightheaded. His hands are everywhere — your waist, your hips, your thighs. You whimper when his mouth moves to your neck, and he smirks against your skin.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re killing me.”

“Good,” you rasp, clinging to him.

And god, it’s perfect. It’s heat and teeth and hands tugging at clothes and whispered please, please, don’t stop. You’re pretty sure you’re seconds away from completely falling apart when—

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

You barely hear it. Just the faint vibration of your phone somewhere across the room. You ignore it. Pedro doesn’t notice.

His mouth is on your throat, and you’re gasping, arching into him when—

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

“…Shit,” you pant, barely coherent. “Phone.”

Pedro groans, not even slowing down. “Ignore it.”

“Okay.” And you do. Because right now, nothing else matters except his mouth on your skin, his hands in your hair, and the undeniable pull of yes, yes, yes.

But it doesn’t stop.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Yours. His. Both phones — vibrating frantically, insistent and loud.

“…The fuck?” Pedro pants, finally pulling back. His hair is wrecked, his lips kiss-swollen, and he looks utterly ravished.

You groan, covering your face. “Oh my god, we’re so fired.”

Pedro laughs breathlessly, reaching for his phone. “It’s probably nothing.”

It’s only after your shirt’s halfway off and Pedro’s mouth is dangerously close to your collarbone that his phone won’t stop buzzing.

“…Jesus,” he groans, reluctantly pulling away. “Who the fuck—”

You groan, rolling onto your back, panting. “Just — answer it. Before we actually get arrested or something.”

He groans dramatically, dragging himself off you and fumbling for his phone. “Swear to god, if this is Joseph asking about football—”

But he freezes.

Staring down at his screen. Mouth slightly agape.

“…Pedro?” you frown.

He doesn’t answer. His face has gone completely blank.

Your stomach twists. “What’s wrong?”

“…They’re not calling about us.” His voice sounds distant. “It’s not about the dinner or the kiss.”

Your brow furrows. “Then what—”

But your phone vibrates again. And this time, you actually look.

Missed calls. Texts. Notifications. From everyone. Your supervisor. Pedro’s publicist. Omar. Daisy. Random work contacts.

And then you see it. The text from your manager that stops your heart.

Supervisor: They’ve reviewed the footage. Call me immediately.

Your stomach drops.

“…Pedro,” your voice cracks. “What footage?”

He’s staring at his phone like it just shattered his entire world. Pale. Breathless.

“…The accident,” he finally says. “The day the light rig fell. They — they must’ve gone through the security footage. And now—”

You freeze.

And then, from the corner of your eye, you catch a name flash across your screen.

Rob Beggs, Safety Manager. Incoming Call.

Your throat locks.

“…Oh my god,” you whisper.

And that’s when Pedro looks up at you — his face drained of color, his throat tight — and all he says is:

“…They know.”

The phones finally stop ringing.

And the silence that follows feels like it could crush you.

End Notes:

LOL I HAVE BEEN HIBERNATING

I hate midterms with a burning passion.

I apolocheese with the cliffhanger but it had to be done with this chapter LOL

also OOOOOO A LITTLE STEAMY CHAPTER... who am I??

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy @widowsvail @senhoritamayblog @morganlolitta @suzysface @reidsworld @xmaykeca @dontlookatme121 @mandaloriankait @picketniffler @pedrofan @mystickittytaco @enchantingchildkitten @seven-seas-of-fuck-you @ro-nahime-things @senhoritamayblog @hermionelove @ashhlsstuff @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @youusunshineyoutemptress @klajmekkk @aomi-nabi @churchofjoemiller @pascalitobarnes @ccmoonshine @its-different-for-girls66

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christinamadsen · 7 days ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 | Masterlist

Summary: You and Joel were strangers, at a crossroads within this world and using each other for distraction is much easier than facing everything else. Based off this song.

Series Warnings: 18+, DDDNE, dubcon/coercion, co-dependency, age gap, post-outbreak!jackson!joel, selective mutism!reader (this will change over time), mentions of sa and relating themes (not descriptive), graphic descriptions of violence, medical procedures (relating to childbirth —there are no children/pregnancies in this fic), mentions of food scarcity, mean!joel, guilt/angst, all the sadness, injury tw, smut specified within each chapter

— Chapter List:

part one

part two

part three

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #jackson!joel #strangers

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christinamadsen · 7 days ago

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PEDRO PASCAL Apple AirPods 4 commercial teaser dir. Spike Jonze

#pedro pascal #apple #commercial #oh lets go!

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christinamadsen · 8 days ago

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This was sooo cute! 😍🫠 thank you for tagging me! 🫶🏼

Oh, Your Love Is Sunlight

Summary: Din takes you on a picnic date Rating: Teen Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader Word count: 2,106 Tags/warnings: Excessive fluff, feelings, food consumption (including meat and dairy; sorry to those who don’t partake, finding photos of vegan Star Wars food is hard!), fleeting thoughts about bunk-sharing, helmet removal, kissing, hand-holding, gift-giving Author’s note: Happy 1st Tumblr birthday, Moon Fairy Mina @evolnoomym! I made a moodboard for your first birthday party with the prompt “having a picnic date with Din”, and then I couldn’t stop myself from writing something to go with it. It ended up far fluffier than I usually aim for, though maybe I’ll write the smut that inevitably follows next year! Much love, darling 😘

Din instructs you to close your eyes until the loading ramp has fully descended, then guides you a few steps forward onto the sloped surface. The thrum of suspense rises in your gut like a hyperspace engine coming to life, only to be cut short when he has to dart back inside for forgotten supplies. With his grand reveal delayed, you’re left to interpret the world on which you’ve landed through your other senses.

You notice the air’s freshness first. After a whole week cooped up aboard the Crest, it hits your lungs like water on a parched throat, quenching your thirst for freedom. Warm sunlight caresses your skin while a soft breeze carries the heady perfume of grass and wildflowers. A low, static-like buzz mingles with a closer chorus of wildlife and birdsong, each sound weaving its own melody into the moment.

“Open your eyes,” Din commands at last, his smooth, modulated baritone adding a final note to this sensory symphony.

A gasp escapes your lips as you obey… the sight that unfolds is kriffing spectacular.

A verdant meadow stretches out before you, overlooking a sun-drenched valley beyond. The low background hum is the distant roar of waterfalls, where vast torrents of azure water plunge into a sparkling lake before winding through the valley to your right. Along the banks, large grazing creatures – shaaks, you think – lumber at their leisure. A tall, lush forest fringes the meadow to your left and behind the ship, its ancient canopy whispering secrets of a new world.

It’s breathtaking.

“Are we on Naboo?” Only that planet’s renowned vistas could rival this incredible display, but you can’t be there. It doesn’t match the heading you were on.

The Mandalorian shakes his helmet. “The biosphere is similar, but this world is in the Unknown Regions and, so far, it’s uninhabited. I discovered it by accident a couple years back. Once the Nav Guild drops a hyperspace marker out here, the New Republic will settle it fast, but it remains off the grid for now. What do you think?”

“It’s stunning, Din. Are we here for a bounty?” Your gaze drifts back to him – the only other thing in the galaxy that could rival the landscape’s splendour in your eyes. The sunlight glints in his armour as if he belongs among such beauty.

“No…” he replies, a trace of awkwardness in his tone as he gestures toward a basket by his side – the forgotten supplies. “I thought we could have… a picnic.” Before you can fully register your surprise, he adds in a soft, playful tone, “A… date?”

Astonishment renders you mute for several drawn-out moments, freezing you in rapturous inertia. Then, with a smile as radiant as the sun itself, you finally reply, “I’d love that.”

After months of pining for him, you’re not about to look a gift traladon in the mouth.

He spreads out a couple of blankets on the grass and begins unpacking the basket. As you watch him lay out enticing treats, it becomes clear why he’d insisted on making every meal for you both since his supply run at the last outpost yesterday. He’d filled the cooling chamber with surprises for this ‘date’.

When he extracts a chilled bottle of blue milk, a nostalgic lump forms in your throat. “You remembered!” you exclaim softly.

“Of course,” he responds warmly. “I drank it as a kid, too. We both have good memories attached to it.”

Din puts together a carefully crafted three-course meal. Hunks of bucco bread slathered with soft moof milk cheese and topped with slices of red fruit make for a simple but tasty starter. Next, he serves up a mouthwatering main course: cold cuts of nerf steak paired with vibrant purple topato mash and buckwheat noodles. Just when you think you’ve reached your limit, he unveils a plate of Parnassos swirl cake – squares of sweet, buttery, purple-swirled indulgence.

You eat back-to-back in the seamless rhythm you’ve become used to – his helmet near at hand, of course. After months of gaining his trust, removing it to eat together was a welcome victory, and you don’t take it for granted. Instead, you savour the resonance of his unfiltered voice as you each describe your favourite things in the galaxy (besides this delicious food and epic view).

You can’t find the words to confess that he’s one of your favourite things.

After the meal, you lay back on the blanket, digesting both the sumptuous food and the surreal notion that this is a genuine date.

It’s been nearly a year since Din first took you aboard, and almost six months since Grogu left for his Jedi training. In the wake of their parting, you brought the grieving Mandalorian to your homeworld and looked after him while he brooded. With his ship destroyed, he seemed grateful to have a ‘home base’ of sorts when he started taking bounty missions to finance a replacement Razor Crest. There was never any doubt that you would fly away with him again once Peli found him a new ship.

You’ve always been close, but it’s never been anything more than mutual respect and a deep friendship – or so you believed. Perhaps you aren’t the only one who’s spent your nights wishing you could crawl into your shipmate’s bunk. The idea of two warm bodies pressed together softens the chill of deep space and makes the galaxy seem that little bit less lonely.

A rustling beside you interrupts your reverie. Curious, you prop yourself on your elbows to find Din unbuckling his belt and lifting off his bandolier, his cloak already a charcoal pool behind him. As he begins to unfasten his cuirass, you comment, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take your armour off outside the ship before.”

“Who’s gonna see?” he drawls, his tone laced with a secret smile. “Even the shaaks are too far away now to catch a glimpse.”

Despite his relaxed demeanour, you notice how he extracts his blaster from its holster, resting it within easy reach at the blanket’s edge. The beskar may come off, but the warrior remains.

Once he’s down to his flight suit, he rolls up the sleeves and unzips the front, revealing his dark undershirt. This is virtually naked for Din.

You offer an approving smile. “Way to relax, bounty hunter – I’m impressed.”

“Yeah? Good,” he rasps, those two husky syllables igniting a surge of desire within you.

Then, once again, he catches you off guard. Reaching up, he does the unthinkable. He removes his helmet.

“Din!” you exclaim, clamping your eyes shut and laying back on the blanket to direct your now unseeing eyes at the sky instead of his uncovered face. You press a hand across them for good measure. “A little warning, maybe?”

“You already saw my face when Grogu left,” he reasons, though his words only deepen your confusion.

“Yeah, but then you put your helmet back on and haven’t taken it off since,” you counter. As you protest, you feel him lift your hand away from your eyes, but you keep them firmly closed. “What— why— your creed, Din!”

“It’s already broken; the transgression has been committed. I’ve just been… hiding behind my helmet ever since. But you’ve already seen me, and nothing will change if you see me again now.” Still holding the hand he just peeled off your face, his voice grows warm and resolute as he implores, “Look at me, cyar’ika. Please.”

It feels surreal – perhaps you’re dreaming or teetering on the edge of sanity – but you can’t deny him what he so earnestly requests.

Slowly, you relax your eyelids and blink them open, expecting to see your stoic Mandalorian. Instead, you encounter a nervous, messy-haired, forty-something knockout, propped up on his elbow and hovering over you. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember, except his eyes are no longer shadowed by sadness; now, they sparkle with an unspoken promise.

For several long, heavenly moments, you simply gaze at one another, absorbing this rare, unrestricted view – the second mind-blowing sight of the day. The fluffy clouds drift onwards overhead, the waterfalls cascade endlessly into the churning lake, and the blazing sun edges ever closer to the horizon. This beautiful world spins on, yet you see only each other.

Before long, you notice Din’s focus keeps drifting lower, and when you wet your lips, he audibly inhales. You watch him wet his own in kind before his eyes dart back to yours beneath a questioning eyebrow.

A soft smile, an encouraging nod – that’s all it takes. And suddenly, he’s kissing you. It’s tentative and shy – he moves with a gentle hesitance that makes you reach up and cup his cheek, urging him to let go. He breaks off to draw a steadying breath… once, twice. Then his lips return to yours with greater passion – eagerness filling in for his obvious inexperience.

You soon find a reciprocal rhythm, slowly deepening the kiss until every touch of his tongue against yours sends sparks crackling through your body. With low hums, you encourage what you like, and his impressive ability to observe and learn soon elevates him to the best kisser you’ve ever known.

When he finally pulls away, he remains close, hovering above you with kiss-swollen lips. “So, how am I doing?” he asks.

“How are you doing?” you echo, unsure what he means.

“The date,” he clarifies softly. “Mandalorian dating mostly involves sparring; this kind of thing is… new to me. Is it what you hoped for?”

Flustered by his assumption that you’d hoped for any kind of date, you stammer, “Y-yeah… it’s wonderful. You’re doing… kriffing amazing.”

Relief washes over his features, and you marvel at seeing it on his face as well as in his body language.

“Cara suggested the picnic, but I planned the details myself,” he confesses, explaining how he knew you wanted this.

Nevarro’s marshal has been your confidante for months, though she swore she’d never tell Din of your feelings for him, conceding it could only complicate your friendship.

“So… she told you? About… me liking you… like this?” you ask, put out by her broken promise.

He smiles at your euphemism. “Only after I told her that I like you… like this. Then she threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t act on it.”

You snicker as you realise you’ve both been as foolish as one another, instantly forgiving Cara’s breach of trust in pursuit of your happiness.

Looking into his sparkling brown eyes, you shake your head and whisper, “This is crazy. I never imagined you’d feel the same way – that what I’ve been feeling all this time could ever be mutual.”

Din closes the distance once more, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before murmuring, “Oh, ner mesh’la dinii, it’s mutual, trust me.” You pull him back in for a deeper kiss, slowly and blissfully making out as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

When it’s time to leave, Din carries his armour back to the Crest while you pack away the picnic things. You watch your gorgeous, messy-haired man return to your picnic spot against a blazing sky, the lake beneath reflecting amber flames.

As you take a final, lingering look at the vista below, he steps up behind you, pressing in close. His arms encircle you, drawing you back against his unarmoured chest, and he whispers, “I have something for you.”

Before you can speak, he raises his hand and uncurls his fingers. And there, nestled in his palm, a silver mudhorn pendant sparkles in the vestiges of sunlight. Your breath catches as you recognise his clan symbol – a silent declaration that you are his family.

Swallowing tears that dare to betray your emotion, you can offer only a breathy whisper in response. “Stars, it’s… I— thank you so much.”

You long to voice the thousand other words that churn within – that you consider him family too, that you’re in love with him, that you’d happily spend the rest of your life with him. Yet you hold them all back. Words have never been your way, nor Din’s.

Gestures are your language.

Once he’s lowered the mudhorn around your neck, you turn to face him, drawing him close and resting your foreheads together in a wordless Mandalorian kiss.

When you part, your hands entwine as you saunter back to the ship, savouring the setting sun’s enduring glow. You came here as friends, but you leave as something more. And with this planet’s sun-drenched beauty etched in your memories, even the darkest corners of the galaxy don’t seem so lonely anymore.

Translations:

cyar’ika [SHAH-ree-kah] – sweetheart/darling

ner mesh’la dinii [ner MESH-lah DEE-nee] – my beautiful lunatic

Just a few notes in case anyone’s interested:

Yeah, the title is a Hozier lyric. Unoriginal, I know, but I couldn’t come up with anything decent!

The first photo in the moodboard is actually Naboo; it’s from Episode II: Attack of the Clones when Anakin and Padme have their picnic up in the Lake Country (I just cropped them out), so technically, it’s Lake Como in Italy.

Definitions: Shaaks are grazing animals, mostly raised as livestock because of their massive bodies, and are the SWU’s equivalent of sheep. The Unknown Regions is an area of the galaxy that isn’t mapped. The Nav Guild is responsible for mapping the galaxy. Hyperspace markers (also called navigation buoys) mark coordinates to keep ships on course, and all planets and astronomical objects have one. A traladon is a Corellian animal, but they use “gift traladon” across the galaxy in the same expression we use on Earth (“don’t look a gift horse in the mouth”), meaning one shouldn’t question a gift. A cooling chamber is a refrigerator. Blue milk is the SWU’s ubiquitous version of cow’s milk and comes from banthas. Bucco bread is a type of golden loaf made from grain farmed on planets in the Outer Rim. Soft moof milk cheese is the equivalent of ricotta cheese and comes from the milk of moofs (SWU goats). Red Fruit is the in-universe name for tomatoes. Nerfs are another type of cattle, rather like buffalo. Topato is the Star Wars word for potato, and though they’re usually green, we have purple potatoes on Earth, so I figured they’d have purple topatoes in the SWU. Buckwheat noodles are usually from Corellia, but I assume they can be made anywhere. Parnassos swirl cake looks and sounds fucking delicious.

Screw canon and that stupid midlife-crisis N1 starfighter – I prefer to imagine that Peli got Din a new Razor Crest like he asked for.

A note on the images in the moodboard: I want to reassure everyone that I don’t use AI when creating images for my fics; I use an ancient and outdated program called Adobe Photoshop CS4, which was released 17 years ago (well before AI even existed). I do my best to manually extract, layer and blend elements from different images, then tweak them until I’ve created the image I want. It takes forever, but my blood, sweat and tears go into the process, and I take pride in doing it myself. Once I have the images, I use Canva for moodboard layouts.

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christinamadsen · 8 days ago

Note

jealous peña please or super sweet husband peña <3

A Busy Kiss

Pairing: Javier Peña x wife reader

Word Count: 600

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I went with sweet because I love a sweet Javier!

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❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

He’s gone a lot. Most days, my husband wakes before me, quietly trying to rush his routine to get to work as he’s usually running late. I asked him once why he didn’t just wake up earlier if he was always barely making it in time. Javier simply smiled at me, cupping my cheek with his warm hand and said, simply, “But then I’d miss that time with you.”

So for me, he rushes out of the front door nearly every morning, a quick press of his lips to mine or my cheek or forehead before he all but runs from our apartment.

But lately, I’ve barely seen him at all.

I know they’re closing in on Cali and that there’s a sort of deadline if Javi was to catch them before their deal with the government. I understand the need for Javi to spend all of his time focusing on catching them, bringing them to justice.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the hell out of him.

A couple months into this new schedule, he comes home earlier than normal, which is still late by society standards. I’m already in bed but I hear him shuffle in the room, slipping into the bathroom and turning on the shower. He’s not there for long, choosing to slip under the covers and slide up behind me instead. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight to his chest as he nuzzles into my ear.

“I love you, hermosa,” he whispers, gently kissing my ear, his mustache tickling me. I let out a small chuckle and he repeats his action, loving the way I squirm in his grip.

The next morning, we wake to his phone ringing. Javi groans, answering the call with a gruff tone. He sighs and I know it was a call to come in early, despite the fact he got in late. Sure enough, he hangs up the phone, turning on his back and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I gotta go in, hermosa.”

“Mmm.” I’m still half asleep, on the edge, deciding whether to fall back asleep or wake up.

Javi gets up with a groan and quietly gets ready. I hear him in the living room putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys, the front door lock sliding in place.

About 20 minutes later, the door opens again and I’m blinking awake. Javi comes bursting into the room, striding over to the bed and leans down to place a soft but heated kiss to my lips.

“Aren’t you gonna be late?”

He smiles down at me. “I got halfway there and realized I’d forgotten to kiss you before I left. I wouldn’t be able to focus all day if I didn’t get to kiss my wife.”

I lean up, fingers wrapping around his tie to pull him to me, deepening the kiss. Javi braces himself on his arms, placing them on either side of me as he leans over me.

“Aren’t you gonna be late?” I smirk against his lips.

Javi glances down at his watch. “I think I can spare a few minutes. For my wife.”

—----

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christinamadsen · 10 days ago

Text

Dream on, Aerosmith

Pairing: Frankie Morales X f!Reader

Challenge: 47 Minutes in Heaven Writing Challenge

Prompt: "Frankie Morales + stuck in the elevator with his wife… ex-wife, right after signing the divorce papers"

Word Count: 1483

Warnings: I’m rating this 18+. Some angst. Some swearing. Reference to Adult Sexy Time. Misuse of elevators and concert facilities.

A/N: Thank you, @toomanystoriessolittletime, for creating this challenge and letting me be a part of it. I love Frankie so damn much that I’ll take every opportunity to write about him.

“Hold the door!”

You recognize the voice… because, of course, you do. You’ve slept next to that voice for nearly ten fucking years. You start pushing the ‘Close Door’ button with so much gusto that you nearly jam it through the back of the panel. Unfortunately, his massive hand stops the door, allowing him to slide into the elevator beside you.

“Goddamnit, Frankie,” you groan with a roll of your eyes. You cross your arms and move to lean against the wall furthest from him, staring at the numbers above the door as you both slowly descend.

“What?!” he exclaims. “I have to go to the parking garage too.”

“You could’ve taken the other elevator.”

“It was full.”

“Yeah… apparently we’re not the only ones that got divorced today,” you mumble.

“Hey! This is what you wanted! Remember?!”

“We’re not doing this here, Frankie! Okay?!”

“Not doing this here,” he parrots. “You won’t talk about it here. You won’t talk about it at home. You won’t talk about it anywhere!”

“What’s there to talk about?!” Your voice starts rising in pitch despite your efforts to stay calm. “We signed the papers, and now you can go gallivanting around the world at the beck and call of Santiago!”

“That’s what this is about? Santi?”

“Yes, Frankie! It’s always about Santi! Every time we’d start to get comfortable, Santi would come to the door with some new scheme, and you… bless your heart… you can’t say ‘no’ to him. You fold like a lawn chair and set out with him for parts unknown. And then for weeks… weeks, Frankie… I’d sit waiting, and I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. I never knew if I should continue waiting or call your ma to start planning a funeral.”

You couldn’t disguise your hurt anymore, wiping your eyes furiously with the heels of your hands. His brow furrows beneath the brim of his hat. He moves closer to you, tone dropping low. “Baby.”

“No… don’t… just don’t,” you tell him, holding your trembling hands up. He nods and backs away, giving you some space. “Frankie… I love you… Lord knows, I do… but I can’t keep being the last kid picked for the dodgeball team. I’m so tired of playing second fiddle to Santiago.”

“Baby… you’re not second,” he swears, but you only shake your head at him.

“God… how long does it take to get to the parking garage?” you say nervously. The question has barely left your lips when there’s a loud grinding noise and the elevator jerks to a stop, throwing you toward Frankie. He catches you easily as you’re both plunged into darkness. It takes a few moments before the emergency lights come on, bathing everything in an eerie red glow.

“You okay?” he asks, still holding you against his broad chest.

“Frankie, what’s happening?” you whine, not even trying to pull away. If anything, you pull yourself closer, fingers clutching the back of his tee shirt.

“I don’t know,” he answers, reaching up to push some of the buttons but nothing happens. “Shit! Power must’ve gone out. You’d think that with as much as I pay in taxes, they would’ve used some of that money to update the electrical in this fucking place.”

“So, we’re stuck?” you squeak.

“Seems like it.” The fact that you’re quaking in his arms is not lost on him. He’s known the entire time you’ve been together that you have issues with elevators. You described it to him once. You hate the feeling you get in your stomach when they move and the confined space… and forget fucking glass elevators with your fear of heights… that’s even worse. You still use them because you have to, but you’re never happy about it. You always make sure to stay close to the walls. He hears your breathing pick up speed, almost to the point of sounding like panting. You’re starting to panic, and he knows it. He rubs your back slowly in gentle circles, keeping you tucked beneath his chin. “It’s alright, baby. I got you.”

As much as you want to be angry with him, you’re grateful for his presence. If he had gotten on the other elevator, you’d be alone and terrified in this perceived coffin.

“Why don’t we sit down?” he asks as he pulls away slightly, taking your face in his hands and forcing you to look him in the eyes. You give him a little nod. He slides down the wall and sits with his legs sprawled out in front of him. He pats his lap and smiles up at you, cheeks dimpled.

“Dream on, Aerosmith,” you scoff. He lets out a deep, barking laugh.

“C’mon, baby, humor me.” He takes your hand, kissing the wedding band that you still wear despite everything. Sighing, you let him help you down and curl up on his lap. “God only knows how long we’ll be here.”

“Don’t remind me,” you mumble, fingers nervously plucking at the fabric of his shirt. “How long have we been here?”

“‘Bout ten minutes.” He hears you make a little whimpering noise. One hand strokes your shoulder and his other lay over top of yours, calming your fidgeting digits. “Hey… remember when we first met?”

“Yeah I do, you asshole.” Your eyes narrow as you glare up at him. “I missed most of that Aerosmith concert because of you!”

“But it was worth it,” he chuckles.

“Worth it?!” you exclaim. “We had sex in a porta potty, Frankie!! And it almost tipped due to your vigorous thrusting!”

He only shrugs, not even trying to deny it. If anything, his grin only widens. “I didn’t hear you complaining. All I heard was yes… yes… yes… yes!”

“You’re a dick!” You pull your hand from under his and swat his arm.

“Yup… and I have one too,” he laughs.

“It was so fucking embarrassing too. There was a line of people outside waiting to pee… and I missed my favorite song”

“A small price to pay for the most memorable Walk of Shame.” He boops your nose, still grinning. “Besides... where else could we have gone that was private? Couldn’t go to the car because of their stupid fucking ‘No Reentry’ policy, and we would’ve missed the encore.”

“But I still missed my favorite song.”

“What song would that be?”

“I’m not saying it in here, Frankie.”

“Awwwwe… why not?”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Say it,” he growls, nipping playfully at your ear. “You know you want to.”

“Nuh uh.” You’re trying so hard to resist, but when his head dips down into the crook of your neck and starts pressing hot kisses against your skin, any resolve you have goes out the window. Your hand flies up and grabs hold of the delicious little curls that peek out from beneath his hat. “Frankie… we can’t… someone’ll see us.”

“Doubt that,” he replies, hands already starting to lift the hem of your shirt. “Powers out… so that means the cameras are too.”

“Fucking hell,” you gasp under his touch.

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

He just finishes buttoning his jeans and is helping you get your shirt situated when the power comes back on. He holds you close as he pushes the button for the parking garage.

“Forty-seven minutes,” he says after a few moments.

“What?” You look up at him confusedly.

“Forty-seven minutes… that’s how long we were stopped. I thought you’d want to know.” You nod slowly before watching the numbers of the floors move again. “And... Santi’s gone too.”

“What?!” Your head whips around to look up at him in shock. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“Yeah… fucked off to some-fucking-where… Australia or some shit… I dunno… found himself a girl finally… says he’s marrying her.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” His dark chocolaty eyes get round and hopeful.

“Does that mean… no more…” You can’t even finish.

“No more.”

“Then why did you sign the papers?”

“I thought it was what… I just… I wanted you to be happy if this was what you really wanted.”

“Frankie… all I ever wanted was…” You press the button for the next floor, essentially stopping the elevator. “I don’t want…”

“Don’t want what?”

“This,” you sigh, wildly gesturing all around.

“You don’t want...” His expression falls slightly.

“No… that’s not… fuck… ugggh... I want you to come home, Frankie!” You lightly touch the heart-shaped patch in his beard. “I miss you. I miss ‘us’.”

“I missed you too, baby.” He kisses the little worry line that has permanently taken up residence between your brows. “I’m done running off.”

“You swear?” Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.

“I swear,” he professes, nuzzling his face against yours. He threads his fingers with yours, smiling that sweet, boyish smile he has. “Do you think we can get back upstairs before the lawyers file those papers?”

#47minutesinheaven #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfiction

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christinamadsen · 10 days ago

Text

Through the Highs & Lows {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of traumatic childbirth/medical issues, drug usage, depression, angst, OD, rehab, distrust, premature birth, c-section, stitches, freaking out, separation, reconciliation, wake up sex, protected sex, reaffirming words of love, healing

Comments: Frankie left you alone with a newborn, disappeared for weeks without knowing if he's dead or alive. Coming back home to find out you are pregnant again and unable to deal with the challenges of living with him. You have to leave him and unfortunately, Frankie spirals back into drug use. Until another wake up call is received and he has to see if he can make his way back to being a family with you and your children.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You bite your lip, staring out the window as the time ticks by. It’s been three weeks since Frankie left for South America. A trip that was only supposed to be a week long and a trip you told him to not go on. Your son is eight months old and he’s asleep in his crib, unaware that his father is missing. No calls. No texts. Nothing. You are terrified that this is the mission that killed him. You’ve been married to Frankie for six years. Together for seven. You’ve waited like this for more hours than you care to count. When he was deployed, when he’d go on missions and go dark, you would sit and worry for your husband. You decided to wait until after he left the army to try for a baby because you both agreed that he should only be a father when he’s going to be around full time and not off for months at a time. How ironic. He’s been missing for two weeks.

You had a bad birth when your son, Lucas, was born. You lost a lot of blood and the doctors weren’t sure if you’d make the night, leaving Frankie to hold his newborn son and that was traumatic. He turned to something that was offered to him by some asshole outside the hospital who was waiting for their loved one and that was it. He was addicted to coke. Headlights flash as a truck turns into your driveway and you scramble out the chair you’ve been sitting in, heart pounding and you fling the door open just as Frankie gets out of his truck.

Sighing, Frankie reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. The entire operation had been a complete shitshow and he had nothing to show for it except the original $17k Pope had paid him. Not worth it considering the fact they had lost Tom. Guilt settles in his stomach uneasily, making it roll. Benny was flying back tomorrow and Will was half a day behind him. Not wanting to make it obvious that they were traveling together. He had come home first so he could get back to you and the baby. When the door bursts open, he jumps, expecting you to be asleep but you’ve been waiting for him apparently. Making him even more guilty because of the fact he could have called at the airport and he didn’t. “Hey baby.” He manages a half hearted smile.

You stare at him, wanting to pull him close and be thankful that he’s alive, but you’re so angry at him for going missing. For making you worry. Again. You step aside to let him come in and you make your way into the kitchen to make a cup of tea while he sets his stuff down. “I missed you.” He murmurs, reaching for your waist when he follows you into the kitchen and you freeze. “Don’t.” You murmur and he frowns, lowering his hands from you and taking a step back. You turn around to face him, your expression full of pain and you swallow harshly, wishing you had the cup of tea already made. “I’m sorry. I- I tried to call but I couldn’t get a signal and it was a shit show. I- I can’t believe that we were gone so long and I know you’ve been left alone with Lucas and I should’ve been here but I-” You cut him off from his rambling by saying “I’m pregnant.”

Pregnant. He freezes as he absorbs your words. He had gotten you pregnant again. It’s not like you had been trying again, you had made sure to get on birth control. Lucas’s birth had been traumatic for both of you and it was compounded by his fucking up with drugs. “Babe- I-“ he’s happy, he realizes. He’s fucking alive, his family is here and apparently you’re expanding your brood. “That’s great!” He gushes, moving to pull you into his arms.

You hold your hands up, not wanting him to touch you, and you see the immediate hurt on his face even as he lowers his arms. "Are you - are you not happy about it?" He asks tentatively and you inhale deeply, tears stinging in your eyes. "You have options if you want to...you know." He adds lamely, knowing it would hurt him but it's your choice. "No. I - I can't have this baby with you, Frankie. You are suspended from your license, we have no money coming in and I can only borrow from my mom so much before she starts to resent it. I can't sit here and wait for you to come home, wondering if this time is the mission you don't come home from. I told you I didn't want you going on anything else and you went...leaving me with Lucas for three weeks without even so much as a text to say you're alive. I can't sit by the phone and wonder if the call is to say you're dead. Either from coke or your need to chase danger. I've spent so long waiting for you to be safe and at home while you were deployed but I can't do it anymore." You choke on a sob as you look at him with tears in your eyes, "it's over. We are over."

It feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “Babe-“ he swallows harshly. “No, I’m - I’m back. I’m safe.” He adds, his face falling even more when he thinks about Tom. His body will be transported back in three days. “I know, I know I should have called you. I - I couldn’t-“ he chokes up. “Tom- he-“ he clears his throat and his eyes start to water. “Babe, he didn’t- please- he, uh-“

You stare at him, the way his hands shake, "Tom is - he's gone?" You ask and he nods, tears in his eyes that won't fall. Frankie never cries. You've never seen it. "I'm sorry." You whisper but this justifies your decision. "I can't be Molly. I can't wait to see if you come home and one day you don't. I can't do this anymore, Frank." You choke, hating how you want to pull him close and hug him, comfort him, but he will continue to destroy your family with his recklessness and you've stood by him for so long. Now, it's the last time.

“Baby, don’t do this.” Frankie begs, stepping towards you again and then remembering that you don’t want to be touched and he shuffles back again. “I’m done. This- this is it. I’m fucking done. I should have never fucking gone. You- you were right. I was just trying to make some money. I was trying to take care of you and Lucas.” His hands wrap around his body and he swallows harshly. “Just give me one more chance.” He whispers pathetically.

Tears stream down your cheeks and you fight your instinct to pull him close and comfort him. You shake your head, "I can't. I have to think about our children. I love you but I can't do this anymore." You choke and he leans against the kitchen counter, his chest heaving. You take the opportunity to make your way to Luca's room to wake him. You'd already packed your bags, stored them in your car in anticipation of Frankie returning home. There's some things you'll leave behind that you use every day and some clothes but it doesn't matter. Lucas cries as you wake him, lifting him out of his crib and into your arms, cooing at him to calm him down.

Frankie chokes out your name. “Please.” He pants, feeling like his heart is about to explode. You come back into the room and he wants to rush over and take Lucas from you, demanding you stay. He has done so many things, he killed to get back to you and when that fucking helicopter was going down, you and Lucas was all he thought of. “I can’t, Frankie.” You murmur and he closes his eyes, the pain etched on his face and he shuts down.

You hate how he looks so pained but you need to protect yourself, your son, and your unborn child. You sob as you walk towards the door, opening it without hassle as Frankie lingers behind you. You open your car and place Lucas in the car seat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you close the door and open the driver door. Frankie rushes out and stands in front of the car. “Frankie. Please. Let us go.” You beg, wanting him to know this hurts you too but you need to go.

He hates that he said yes, that he ever went on that goddamn trip. Now he’s losing everything. He shakes his head and knows that if you leave, you aren’t coming back. “Goddamnit, I-“ he chokes up and feels like he’s about to drown in his own thoughts. “Go.” He stumbles back and nearly falls to the porch steps.

You scramble to get into the car, tears streaming down your cheeks, and your heart is breaking but you can’t put you or your child at risk anymore. You start the engine and put the car in drive, looking at Frankie for a second as he stands defeated on the porch while you drive away from the home you made together.

He watches as your tail lights disappear around the corner and he chokes out a sob. Not even in the door good and his world has come crashing down for a second time in the past three weeks. He closes his eyes and pulls out his phone from his pocket. He’s lost everything, he might as well break another promise to you. He told you he would never touch the coke again, but you left him anyway, so what does it matter?

You arrive at your mom’s and she embraces you as soon as you arrive. You’d told her your plan and she’d supported you, didn’t think that Frankie was providing like a husband should, and she wanted the best for you and Lucas. You settle Lucas into the crib in the guest bedroom and your mom holds you as you cry for you and for Frankie. She was on the phone with you when you found out you were pregnant again and she promised you she’d be there no matter what. She holds you until you pass out from exhaustion, tears dry on your cheeks as you finally fall asleep.

****

Frankie wakes up, not sure what day it is and looks around the house. Hoping to find that he’s woken up from a nightmare. He hasn’t. The beer bottles and trash litter the coffee table and floor, he’s not sure when the last time he’s showered was and there’s a little baggie of white powder that’s laying on a picture. A picture of you and Lucas. He groans and reaches for it, wanting to forget again.

You are exhausted from caring for Lucas and being five months pregnant. You haven’t heard from Frankie for two months. You want to check on him but you can’t risk it. You can’t risk wanting to go back to him. Your mom has Lucas while you go out to get some things to get ready for the baby when your phone rings. You frown and answer the unknown number, “hello?” You say and the voice is official, “Mrs. Morales? This is Lakeland Hospital. Your husband is here. He - he suffered an OD and we need you here.” The store around you blurs as you barely hear what else is said as you drop the baby clothes and rush out the store, getting into the car to make your way over to the hospital. Your heart pounds as you drive until you’re walking into the hospital and giving Frankie’s name, “I’m his wife.”

The woman at reception checks the computer and frowns slightly. “He’s up on the third floor.” She tells you. “ICU.”

Your heart pounds as you rush through the hospital to the ICU and you place a mask over your face as you enter and you’re shown to Frankie’s room. When you walk in, a sob escapes your lips. He looks terrible. He looks like death. “Oh Frank.” You choke and reach for his hand, squeezing it and you sob when you see all the wires connected to him.

The doctor had been alerted that his patient had a visitor and he makes his way into the room. “Mrs. Morales?” He asks, watching the horror on your face as you look at your husband’s condition. When you look at him, he walks over to the bed and touches Frankie’s feet. “He’s going to be in here for at least twenty-four hours.” He explains. “When he coded, he exasperated into his lungs. It was a close call.”

You inhale sharply, your chest tightening as you look down at your husband who looks gaunt, beard grown in patchy, and his eyes sunken. He looks dead and it makes you hunch over him and cry. “I’m so sorry.” You choke, squeezing his hand again. “I’m sorry I left you like this.”

The doctor tries not to listen in, whatever issues you have are not his problems to solve. “He should wake up soon.” He reaches over and pats your shoulder. “Once he’s released, he’s going to have to go to rehab. It’s obvious he’s been trying to kill himself with drugs.”

Your heart breaks and the guilt threatens to overwhelm you. You left him in the middle of the night after he got back from a trip where his friend was killed. You should’ve stayed and talked to him but you desperately wanted to get away from him, from the mess that he’d created. Apparently he wanted to do the same and buried himself in drugs. “Frankie. Please wake up. I’m here.” You murmur, kissing the back of his hand after you pull your mask down. A chair is brought in for you and you have no idea how long you’re there, just staring at him, until the nurse reminds you to use the bathroom and have something to eat. “You’ve got a baby to think about too.” She says and you nod, caressing your bump as you reluctantly leave Frankie to take care of yourself.

When Frankie wakes up, he feels like shit. For a brief second, he wonders if the bird had gone down. He’s thinking that he’s still active duty, still in the Army and flying. Blinking and groaning, he hears the beeps of the machines and opens his eyes to see an empty chair beside his bed.

When you come back, Frankie’s room is a flurry of doctors and nurses and you panic, thinking something has happened to him. The nurse outside reassures you, “he’s just woken up. They are doing checks on him.” She informs you and you relax, tears stinging in your eyes when they leave, allowing you inside to see your husband. When you walk in, his eyes are heavy and his head lolled slightly, “Frankie, it’s me.” You murmur, reaching for his hand.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He groans. “The weight- it was too much. Told Tom we had a weight problem. Wouldn’t get over the mountain.” He squeezes your hand gently. “Gear box- fuck, tried to land. Thought of- of you and Lucas while I was crashing.” He looks over at you and through the pain and the haze of the medications his eyes widen. “I- baby- you’re pregnant!”

Your heart breaks at the hopeful look on his face and you can’t destroy him when he’s in a hospital bed. You nod, “yeah. Five months. It’s a girl.” You tell him and he grins, “a girl.” You squeeze his hand and he smiles, “I’m sorry I-” You shush him, “it’s okay. Just rest.”

He nods and closes his eyes. “Fucking tired, babe.” He admits quietly. “Had to give up the money. Over a million apiece, but we gave it all to Molly.” He chokes up. “Tom- he - he fucking killed those men, we killed them. And they killed him for it.”

You lean in to kiss the back of his hand, seeing the guilt in his expression. “It’s okay. Nothing you could’ve done. It’s not your fault.” You promise him, knowing that telling him what happened after will distress him and you want him to relax. He’s still your husband and you still love him.

“We - I should never have gone. I didn’t want to.” Frankie whispers. “But I wanted to take care of you and Lucas. I got greedy. We would have been set for life.” He squeezes your hand again. “Did I get shot? Is that why I’m in the hospital?”

You inhale deeply, trying to not let him see you cry, and you lean closer towards him. “You- you overdosed. You nearly died from an OD.” You inform him, watching as his eyes flutter until the words hit him.

He frowns, shaking his head. “No- no I wouldn’t do that. I promised you. I - babe, I told you I wouldn’t touch it again. I haven’t- there must be some- I didn’t touch it after you told me you’d leave me if I ever did it again.”

You have to tell him. You choke as you reach out to cup his hand, “you don’t remember?” You ask and he shakes his head. “I left you because - because I couldn’t do it anymore. I left you two months ago and you’ve been- you’ve been using.”

“Fuck.” Frankie closes his eyes and pulls his hand out of yours. The memories of him coming home and you leaving swamping him again and making him tremble slightly. His chin wobbles and he remembers being so happy for a split second when you told him you were pregnant only to have it ripped away. He swallows harshly. “Then why are you here?” He chokes out.

"They called me. I'm your emergency contact and still your wife." You remind him, "and I love you. I wouldn't be anywhere else." You assure him before you swallow harshly, "Frankie. Why - why did you do it?" You ask softly.

“Because I’m too much of a coward to put a gun in my mouth.” He admits quietly. “All the shit I’ve done, would do, to get home to you- I still fucking lost you and Lucas.” The haze of the meds are wearing off and he can think clearly. “What’s there to live for? Figured I could just forget until it doesn’t fucking matter anymore.”

That breaks you. You sob and lean in to kiss his hand over and over. "Never say that again. You have Lucas and I - I shouldn't have left you but I was hurting and you were gone. Frank - Frankie. Please. I- I don't want to lose you. I love you. I just want the man I married back." You plead, "I'm so sorry."

Your crying breaks his heart and he reaches out and pulls on the IV slightly as he cups your cheek. “Don’t-“ he rasps out. “I’m not- baby, you don’t deserve my shit. Just- just go and I’ll-“ he chokes up and swallows. “I love you, so fucking much. You nearly dying when our baby was born almost killed me. I don’t- I don’t know how to function without you.”

You turn your head to kiss his palm, “I need you to get better, Francisco. For our children. For me. For you. I need you to go to rehab and fight this. I already spoke to Molly and she has agreed to let us borrow the money to pay for rehab. I need you to get better. For us. For our children. I want this one to arrive knowing her daddy is there for her.” You demand, shifting closer so you can place his hand on your bump.

Frankie holds his emotions in. He’s never been one to cry a lot and it takes a lot to make him angry. Your hand, warm and covering his over the bump that protects the little girl you created together- it breaks him. He chokes out a sob, heavy tears pouring down his face as he starts to weep. Knowing he fucked up. Knowing instead of turning back to the fucking nose candy to forget how shitty his life was, he should have been at your mothers door every damned day, showing you that he could be the man you needed. He failed you and Lucas horribly and he almost died because of it. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, babe.” He sobs. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You reach out with your free hand to wipe his tears and you cup his cheek, “it’s okay. It’s okay baby. I love you. I will always love you no matter what. I left because I wanted you to change but I realize I should’ve stayed and helped you. You need help. Tell me you want to get help.” You beg, choking as you caress his cheek.

“I want to get help.” He promises. “I need you and Lucas. I need you baby. I’ll do anything.” He leans into your touch and breaks down again. “I missed so much. You’re showing and I missed it all.” It had been why you wanted to wait until he got out of the army, not wanting him to miss things and he has managed to do it anyway.

You choke on a sob, knowing he’s missed scans and her first kick and so much but you need him to get better. “I already called a rehab that can take you. It’s going to be paid for and we will make sure you get better.” You promise and he nods while you wipe his tears away. “Just focus on getting better.” You demand, wanting to see him as the Frankie you know and love.

His nod is still in the middle of him crying, unable to do anything else but agree. What can he do? If he wants any chance of being in this new baby’s life, he has to. Not to mention Lucas and you. “Okay. Okay- I- I will do anything.”

You caress his forehead and push his hair back from his face, “and I’ll be here.” You promise, “you need to get sober otherwise I can’t let you be around the children. Do it for them.” You demand, knowing that you love him but you can’t be with him. He will still take risks and you can’t live like that anymore.

“Sober.” He agrees, his voice cracking slightly. “I won’t even fucking drink anymore.” He promises.

You nod, squeezing his hand again, “get some rest, sweetheart. You need to sleep and get better.” You tell him and he sighs, closing his eyes as the exhaustion creeps over him. “I love you.” He murmurs and you lean in to kiss his forehead, “sleep.” When he’s ready, you’ll take him to rehab and it’s up to him to sort this mess out. You need to focus on your children.

****

Mail call is a torturous and wonderful time for Frankie. He now knows how all his fellow soldiers felt on deployment with their wives pregnant. He had missed you when he was gone, but now? Every letter contains pictures and every picture shows your bump is bigger, Lucas growing and he’s missing out on more. You look gorgeous. And tired. But so fucking gorgeous to him, your hands on your large baby bump.

Today is the day Frankie comes out of rehab and you are excited to see your husband again but apprehensive. You sign the paperwork and you’re told about the therapy sessions he has to continue and you are overwhelmed but when Frankie walks out, his face full of life and warmth again, you feel relieved. He embraces you, mindful of the bump which his hand finds to caress, and you kiss his cheek. “You look good, Frank.”

“Thanks.” He’s embarrassed that he’s put you through so much, but they’ve told him that he can’t dwell on that. He needs to show you, and him, that he has changed.

You caress his cheek and lower your hands, stepping back from him. You had considered having him move in with Will and Benny but you know he will backslide if you keep him away from Lucas. "Come on, let's go home." You demand and he grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder after thanking the staff. You moved back into the house when he left for rehab and it was a state. Will and Benny came over to help you clean it up since it was full of empty baggies and beer bottles. You had settled back in and you've been setting up the spare room as a nursery for the new baby.

“So, uh, how have you been?” He asks awkwardly, happy and sad you didn’t bring Lucas. Him getting out of rehab isn’t something he wants his son present for, even if he wouldn’t ever remember it.

You glance at him for a moment as you stop at the traffic light, “I’ve been good. She’s bouncing on my bladder now so I’ve been up all night going to the bathroom.” You complain and reach down to caress the bump. “Lucas is with my mom. I didn’t - I thought you might want to settle in before you had him walking around.” That kills Frankie. He missed his son’s first steps. “He can’t keep out of anything.”

“Yeah.” He frowns and looks down at his hands. “I’m sure. I’m sorry that I’ve not been any help.” He sighs. “The retirement paycheck has still been coming through, right?” His army retirement was still being directed to the joint account you shared and even though he could have taken out money to buy snacks and things like that, he hadn’t, wanting to leave that money for you and Lucas.

“Yes. I’ve been using it for the mortgage and the basics.” You tell him, “and my mom has been helping me with the groceries.” The idea was for you to stay at home with Lucas until he started pre-k and when Frankie was flying there was enough money for the overheads and to spend on luxuries but now, you’re on basics only and unable to go to work because you’re pregnant.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He hangs his head, knowing he hadn’t helped matters. “I’ll get back flying and I’ll get a second job. She’ll get her money back.”

You reach for his hand, “you’re home and that’s all that matters. We don’t have to rush anything. You need to focus on your sobriety and then we can figure everything else out.” You say before you let go of him so you can continue driving until you pull up on the driveway and put the car in park. “Come on.” You tell him when he hesitates after you cut the engine and he opens the door as you unlock the front door, heart fluttering at having your husband home.

You cleaned up. Another wave of guilt washes over Frankie and he sees that the mess and clutter he had lived in while you were gone has been wiped away and the house looks immaculate. “It looks incredible.” He praises. “I’m- fuck, I’m so sorry baby. I know it was a disaster.” He winces, aware that he’s piling onto you. “With you pregnant. That wasn't fair and I’ll make it up to you. Household shit is on me right now.”

You turn to look at him, “Will and Benny helped me. I couldn’t - there were too many baggies.” You finish with a whisper and he swallows harshly. “Anyway, I, uh, I need to - you hungry?” You ask, “I got all your favourites. Figured you’d be starving after being there for so long.”

“Starving.” He forces himself to laugh even though anything would be better than the awkward realization that the Millers have seen the evidence that he was abusing that shit after promising Benny he wouldn’t. He hadn’t been allowed his phone in rehab and he’s been scared to turn the damn thing on.

You smile and make your way into the kitchen to make him something to eat. He was so thin when he was in hospital, a shadow of the man you married, and you want him to be healthy and happy. You watch as he awkwardly stands there until you say "can you crack some eggs? Figured we could have breakfast for dinner."

“That sounds great.” Frankie immediately moves to the refrigerator and pulls out a carton of eggs. “Uh, you said Lucas likes eggs too?” Another milestone that he’s missed, his son is eating solid foods beyond just thick milk and baby food. He’s growing up and he’s missed so much.

You nod, working on a pancake batter, and you look at Frankie who is biting his lip, “yeah. He loves eggs. My mom gave him some berries and he loved them so I think we are gonna be spending our income on berries.” You tease and Frankie chuckles, “whatever he wants.” You work fast to prepare the dinner and you look at Frankie as he sits down opposite you at the table. “I really am glad you’re home.” You murmur, watching him as he grabs the glass of water to take a sip.

“Thanks, I-“ he pauses. “I looked at it like military training. It had to be done and I had to excel at it.” It had helped, snapping back into that mindset where the rules were rigid and there was no acceptance of failure.

You know his time in the military has left him with mental scars that you could never possibly understand. “Your children need you, Frankie. If you’d - well, you’re here now and we are going to support you.” You promise with a smile, “my mom is bringing Lucas over so you can see him before he goes to bed. I figured you’d want time to settle in but he wants to see his daddy.”

“She has to hate me.” Frankie huffs, knowing that if he were on the opposite end of this mess he wouldn’t like someone who did this to his child. “But I want to see Lucas. I- I didn’t get to hold him when I got home from South America.”

“She’s - she isn’t happy.” You confess but you know you can’t tell him how she begged you to divorce him and take the kids away. You couldn’t do that to the man you love. “She will be here soon with him and I…I’m going to sleep on the sofa from now on. I can’t share a bed with you, Frankie.”

“No.” He immediately frowns and shakes his head. “I’ve slept on worse surfaces than our couch. You are pregnant, no.” He insists. “I understand you don’t want to share a bed with me, I’ll sleep on the sofa. I’m not doing that to you.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him so you accept and continue eating. He’s quiet for the rest of the meal and you wonder if he’s angry that you aren’t welcoming him into your bed. He offers to clean up and he’s loading the dishwasher when your mom arrives with Lucas. “Hey baby. I’ve missed you.” You coo, taking Lucas into your arms and your mom looks behind you to see Frankie eagerly standing there.

Frankie tries to ignore the unhappy look on your mom’s face, aware that he’s not her favorite person right now. “Hey buddy.” He nearly chokes up again, seeing how big Lucas has gotten. He doesn’t try to take him from you, knowing that right now he’s virtually a stranger to him. “I missed you so much.”

You stroke Lucas’s back, “look, baby. It’s your daddy.” You coo and Lucas stares at Frankie. “You can hold him.” You offer and Frankie nods, taking the baby from your arms and he chokes on a sob as he cuddles his son. “You’ve missed a lot.” Your mom comments, “first steps. Solid food. He was growing up without his father.”

“I know I missed a lot.” Frankie readily admits that. “But I’m not missing any more.” He promises, looking down as Lucas reaches up to touch his stubble. “You and your sister and your mom are my only priority.”

Your mom stares at him, knowing she’s angry but piling it on him will make the situation worse. “Just don’t break my daughter’s heart again.” She demands and leans in to kiss your cheek, “I’ll call you later, honey. Have a good night. Bye Luc baby.” She coos, kissing his cheek before she backs away and makes her way to her car.

Lucas waves his to grandmother and Frankie knows that it could have gone a hell of a lot worse. She might have more to say when the baby isn’t around. “You said it’s near his bedtime?” Frankie asks. “What’s his routine? I want to do it.”

“He needs a bath. My mom already fed him. Bath time and then a story and bed.” You tell Frankie, “and a bottle of milk before he goes to sleep.” You explain and Frankie nods, “I’ll show you.” You say and make your way to the bathroom to fill the small bathtub inside the bigger one for Lucas.

“Let me.” Frankie fusses, knowing that your stomach is getting in the way and he’s wanting to show that he’s willing to help. “Order me around.” He jokes.

You smile and reach out to kiss Lucas’s cheek before you show Frankie how to check the water temperature before you undress the baby and roll up the dirty diaper. He likes to play with the squirty toys and splash around. Tires him out but you’ll need to use the rag and baby shampoo to wash his hair and his body. Then tilt his head back to wash the shampoo out of his hair.” You explain as Frankie sets Lucas down in the baby tub.

Play with toys, check.” Frankie nods, watching as Lucas immediately reaches for the toys and he pulls the basket off the side of the tub to give them to him. “Rag and baby shampoo, tilt his head back to keep the soap from his eyes.”

You nod, deciding to stand there and watch him even though you know he will feel inadequate. You watch him as he washes Lucas carefully and the baby giggles when Frankie puts some bubbles on his beard to look silly.

“Is that funny?” Frankie chuckles, making a funny face at his son and turns the bathing into a little game that has Lucas laughing.

You lean against the counter as you watch him make Lucas laugh, the little boy splashing the water with his feet, and your heart warms while your eyes water. You can’t believe he nearly wasn’t here to do this.

Eventually, Lucas starts to yawn and Frankie quickly finishes up washing the little boy and gets him out of the tub and wrapped in a warm little froggy towel to carry him into his bedroom. “Diaper and then a sleeper?” He asks. “Do you still use powder on him?”

“Only if he’s sore and there’s diaper cream if he’s chafing.” You tell him and he nods, carrying Lucas into his room to lay him down on the changing mat. “And you’ll need to turn on the white noise machine.” You say as he dries Lucas off before he takes the towel off and starts to get him ready for bed.

It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s put his son into a onesie to sleep in and it breaks his heart. He talks to Lucas while he does and the little boy seems to like his raspy voice. Once he’s all ready, he scoops him up. “Let’s get you that bottle.”

Lucas doesn’t need a warm bottle anymore so you show Frankie how to mix the formula with room temp bottled water. He takes the bottle from you and carries Lucas over to the chair. The little boy grabs the bottle and you hand Frankie his favorite book for him to read. “I’ll be in the bedroom.” You say after you walk over to kiss Lucas on the cheek and tell him goodnight.

At one time, that comment would be an invitation, but those days are long gone. Rather than rushing through this, Frankie takes his time. Reading the book and doing different tones and voices for different characters. He mixes them up, but he doubts Lucas cares as he drinks the bottle, nodding off in his arms. When he’s done, Frankie just sits there and holds him for another ten minutes, not wanting to let him go. Once he’s in the bed, he sneaks out of the room and closes the door, looking towards the bedroom that he once called his, rubbing his hands on his jeans and sighing softly. It’s better if he goes to clean up the kitchen.

You watch Lucas on the monitor after Frankie closes the door and you get ready for bed, exhausted from the day and you walk into the kitchen to get some water after getting changed. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on the sofa?” You ask and Frankie nods, “of course.” You reach out to caress his back after he sets the dish down on the counter. “I love you, Frankie, and I’m so glad you’re here and you’re home. Please don’t - I can’t go through that again.” You plead, your free hand on your bump.

“I won’t.” He promises, turning around and facing you. “I know things have been bad, hard, but I don’t want you to ever go through that again.” Turning back, he grabs a glass from the cabinet and gets you some water. “Here.”

“Thanks, baby.” You murmur and you are close to him. He leans in closer and you turn your head just as his lips press against your cheek. “We can’t. I can’t. We are here as parents.” You remind him, “goodnight, Frankie.” You murmur, backing away so you can go back to the bedroom.

Sighing, he watches you go, hating that he had even tried. Parents. Apparently you love him but you only want to raise your kids with him. His heart breaks a little all over again.

****

You grunt as you try to place the picture on the wall. You’ve been decorating the nursery for your little girl, fortunate that both kids can have their own room, but you’ve been doing it mainly by yourself. Frankie managed to get his licence back after agreeing to random checks and weekly tests to maintain his sobriety. The company needed pilots and desperately wanted him back, even with his past. So he’s been flying all the time, trying to pay back your mom and provide for your family. It’s been hard living with him under the same roof without being with him but you’ve been supporting him while he goes to therapy and NA. Lucas is attached to Frankie at the hip now and you love that your son has a relationship with his father. You hope your little girl will have that too. You adjust the picture and look over at the Mobil, wondering if you can ask Frankie to do that later.

“Morales!” Frankie turns from his locker, looking towards the boss as he is halfway out of his flight suit. “Got another dispatch in.” Frankie knows he should be happy, it’s overtime flight pay, but he had been hoping to get home early tonight. He’s been working a lot to make sure that you and his babies are taken care of and paying his mother-in-law back. When he gets home every night, he has enough time to play with Lucas and give him a bath, put him to bed and then take care of the household chores. It’s been a lot, but he’s been determined to make it good for you after missing so much. “Yeah?” He asks, sliding his arms back into the sleeves. “Yeah, Johnson is going to be an hour late, think you can take it?” Frankie nods, aware that his boss likes when he is willing to take on more flights. “Sure thing, I’m not maxed out.” He agrees, pulling out his phone to send you a quick text, unsure of when he will be home now.

You sigh when Frankie texts that he’s going to be home late. At nearly eight months pregnant, you are struggling to handle Lucas and do things around the house but you’re determined to be independent, even if your husband has done more than his fair share around the house. You give Lucas his dinner and then get him into his bath, something that Frankie loves to do, and soon you’re cooing to your son as he falls asleep. Once he’s asleep, you take the baby monitor into your little girl’s room to try and get everything ready. You glance at the mobile and sigh, wanting to get it done tonight so you can focus on washing the baby clothes and getting those put away. You grab the ladder from the garage and grunt as you carry it into the spare room, stepping up onto it with the hammer and nail to the spot you want above the crib. Your bump presses against the top of the ladder and you growl when you can’t reach. You take another step up, hammer in hand and you reach to bang the nail in when you sway and lose your footing.

Frankie sighs as he opens the door to the house. He is too late to bath Lucas and put him to bed, but maybe you’re still up. You’ve been so tired so quickly, Frankie hasn’t tried to make you stay up with him. “Babe?” He calls softly in case you are asleep. “You awake?”

“Frankie.” You gasp, your stomach clenching as you cry out in pain. You had fallen from the ladder and you are terrified that you’ve done something to hurt the baby. You fell onto your back and you are in agony, barely able to gasp his name.

Frankie hears something and turns towards the hallway. “Babe?” He frowns, hearing a small cry and he rushes towards the bedrooms. “Babe?!” The light is on in the nursery and he darts inside to find a ladder knocked over and you on the floor. “Shit! What happened?” He demands, rushing over to you and dropping down to his knees.

Your eyes widen and you reach for your husband, inhaling deeply, "I tried - the mobile. I waited for you but you were late and I wanted it done. It was st-stupid. I'm sorry." You choke out, "so sorry."

“No, no, it’s okay.” He’s going to blame himself for this. He should have been home. “We- I need to get you up baby. We need to get you to the hospital.”

You cry out when he helps you stand up, immediately reaching for the dresser to balance yourself and you hear Lucas cry. "He needs - we need to take him to my moms." You gasp but Frankie shakes his head, "no time. He will come with us." He says and you nod, "I'm so sorry. I should've waited. It's not time. She's - it's not even eight months."

“Listen to me.” Fear creeps up his own throat, but he pushes it down as he cups both of your cheeks in his hands. “It’s okay. We are just making sure you are both still perfect.” He won’t tell you about the nightmares he’s had about losing you and the baby. That he’s woken up crying and desperate to use again. You don’t need that. You need him right here and calm. “I’m going to get you to the car and then I’m going to get Lucas. Unless you think you need the ambulance?”

You shake your head, still in his hands, "driving will be quicker. I need - I just - oh shit." You shit as another wave of pain hits you, "please Frankie." You sob and he nods, wrapping his arm around you. "Come on, baby. Slow." He orders and you take small steps out to the car.

Frankie helps you into the car, hating every time you cry out and he rushes back inside. Lucas’s screams are loud and angry at being ignored. “It’s okay.” He coos as he bursts through his son’s door hard enough to make the baby jump and quiet down because he was so startled. “Daddy’s here.” He scoops him up and grabs the diaper bag that needs to be repacked for this trip. He will have to call your mom and hope she can come get him, or he will be with you at the hospital. He doesn’t bother wasting time changing him, being in a wet diaper for the next half hour won’t kill him. He rushes into the kitchen to grab some of the big boy bottles he had switched too and the can of formula, along with the snacks to shove into the bag. Fixing Lucas a bottle for the car before he is flying back out the door to strap him into his car seat.

You try to turn to look at Lucas, trying to reassure him that mommy is here. "It's okay, my love." You promise and Lucas grips the bottle as you watch him in the mirror while Frankie gets into the driver's seat. "Jesus." You hiss as you hold your bump, heart pounding in fear that your stupid mistake has killed your baby. "She's not kicking." You tell Frankie with a sob when he pulls up outside the front of the hospital.

“It’s okay.” He’s panicking on the inside, his heart pounding and he feels like he’s about to pass out. Jumping out of the car, he starts yelling into the doors. “We need help!” He shouts, waving the trauma nurses to the bay. He might have pulled up into the ambulance bay, but he doesn’t give a shit. “My wife. Thirty-two weeks pregnant. She fell off a ladder.” He doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed by why you were on the ladder to begin with. That can happen later. “Pain in the abdominal area and she says the baby isn’t moving.” He rattles off the information as three nurses come out with a wheelchair and he rips the door open to help you out of the passenger seat.

You cry out when you are put into the wheelchair and you reach for Frankie, "take care of Lucas." You demand, needing your son to be taken care of while you go through this. Frankie nods, getting back in the car to park it before he carries Lucas into the hospital and asks for your room. He's taken there and you are in a gown, already hooked up to an IV and they are rolling in the ultrasound machine.

Lucas is clinging to him but as soon as he sees you, he’s lunging forward and calling out for you. “Mama!” Frankie pulls him back. “No, baby, we can’t go to mama right now.” He murmurs. “She’s got to be checked out.” He bites his lip and crowds closer to you, reaching out with a free hand to take yours. “I- I called your mom. She’s on the way.” He promises. “But you are going to be fine. Our little girl is fine.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you try to believe him but you are distraught. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn't have been up that stupid ladder. I should've waited for you to get home. Or the next day." You shake your head and sob when your gown is pulled up and the gel is spread over your bump. You squeeze Frankie's hand and silently pray that she's okay.

“It’s my fault baby. I shouldn’t have taken the extra flight.” Guilt swamps him but he can’t dwell on that. He rocks Lucas on his hip as the little boy is fascinated by what is happening to his mom and he prays that everything will be okay. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “I’m right here with you. No matter what.” He promises softly.

You hold your breath as the doctor presses the wand to your bump and you swallow harshly when there's no heartbeat. "Frank-" You choke and squeeze his hand even tighter. The wand is moved around until finally, the heartbeat echoes in the room. You start to sob in relief, "she's alive." Frankie has tears in his eyes and you are so happy until the doctor frowns, "she is in distress. Her heartbeat is slowing. We need to do an emergency c-section. We cannot put you into labor, it will take too long." The doctor begins to order the nurses around you but you are struggling to breathe as you panic.

“Baby, baby.” Frankie leans over you, kissing your forehead. “Just breathe. It’s going to be okay. She’s going to be fine just as soon as they pull her out.” He promises even though he can’t be sure. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

You shake your head, "I can't - I - Frankie. I can't go through it again. What if I die? Or she does? I can't - you won't be strong enough to handle it and you're going to go off the rails. You're going to fail and my mom - if something happens, you need to call my mom." You demand, "promise me you'll let my mom take Lucas."

Every time you encouraged him has been a lie. It feels like a punch to the gut to hear you say that and Frankie pulls back. “Yeah.” He murmurs, frowning as he clenches his jaw. “Don’t worry. I’ll -“ the nurses rush over to start to move the bed to wheel you into surgery. “I’ll give him to your mom.” He calls after you, giving you that small bit of comfort since apparently you’ve never trusted him at all this entire time, even though he has worked so hard to show you that he is changing.

You wish Frankie could be with you in the operating room but he needs to stay with Lucas. You are shaking as the nurse reminds you to calm down. You swallow harshly, glad that epidural is working as you look up at the overhead lights, waiting for news of your baby girl.

Your words are ringing in his ears, mocking him. Reminding him that you don’t trust him. Frankie is on autopilot, changing Lucas and feeding him when he is hungry as he waits for some word on you. He’s pacing around the room that you have been assigned, where you will be brought back and he hopes that everything goes well.

You sob when your baby girl cries as she is cut from your womb and the doctor places her on your chest. "She's healthy. She will need to stay in the hospital for observation but she's okay, mama." The doctor tells you and you sob, "she's okay." You lean in to kiss her head as she cries against your chest.

“Ohhhh my grandson! Come to me.” Your mother rushes into the hospital room and practically snatches Lucas out of Frankie’s arms. She’s been frigidly polite around you and Lucas, but he knows that it’s only because you are pregnant. “How are they?” She demands, bouncing Lucas lightly as she glares at Frankie like this is his fault. “They- they are doing a C section.” He chokes out, before he covers his mouth and turns away. He can’t scare Lucas with his emotional state.

Your mom’s eyes widen, “but she’s not ready. She’s - God. What happened?” Your mom asks and Frankie swallows harshly, “she, uh, she was trying to put up the mobile when she fell off the ladder.” Your mom glares at him, “and what the hell was she doing that for? Where were you?” She demands to know, furious and Lucas clings to her.

“I was working late.” Frankie snaps at her. “Yes it’s my goddamn fault.” He yanks his hat off and runs his hand through his hair. “I took another flight to try to make more money to pay you back for everything you did for her while I was being a piece of shit. I work ten to twelve hours every fucking day I can, come home and take care of Lucas to bond with him, do laundry because she can’t load the washing machine, vacuum and mop because her back and feet are killing her, doing everything I can to make up for the fact that I fucked up.” He glares back at his mother in law. “But it doesn’t fucking matter because she doesn’t trust any of it. She doesn’t trust me. At all. Nothing. Not the fucking meetings, not the weekly drug tests, not a fucking thing I have done has made her trust me farther than she can throw me.” He huffs and shakes his head. “I- I can’t be here.” He chokes out. “I need some air.” He whirls around and opens the door before he turns back to her. “Your daughter told me that if something happened to her, I was to give Lucas to you.” His voice is quiet and broken as he tells her that. “But I’ll be goddamned if that happens.” He walks out of the room, unable to stay there for a second longer.

Your mom follows him down the hall with Lucas in her arms. "You have fought in so many battles but you're a goddamn coward." She hisses at him and he spins, his dark eyes flaring in shock. "I watched her agonize over you when you were gone without a damn word for 3 weeks. She barely slept, she was so worried. She was terrified when she found out she was pregnant again because she was worried that if she had another bad birth, you'd be sent over the edge again. She's strong but she's not strong enough to raise two kids and try to support you. She's done everything she can to help you. Most women would have divorced your ass by now. She's stood by you, helped you, and she was devastated when she got the call that you OD'd. She loves you so much and she can only handle so much. She told me that if something happened to her, for me to take Lucas because she knew you would struggle and she didn't want you to have the added stress of a baby, maybe even two babies. Even at the thought of her dying, she wanted to protect you. She loves you, Frankie, and you have done so well to be where you are today but you cannot be angry at her for protecting her children. For protecting you." Your mom shakes her head, "and I told her I didn't need the money paid back right away. She wanted you to do it so you didn't feel worse about the situation."

Frankie stares at her for a moment and sighs. “I- this is my fault.” He confesses quietly. “I was coming home to help her with the nursery. But I was asked to stay late. She fell because she didn’t want to wait. She couldn’t trust me to hang a fucking mobile.” He growls. “My wife is being cut open and our child pulled out of her, because I worked overtime. How the fuck should I feel?” He asks, opening his hand and spreading them helplessly. “I’ve not even thought about getting high. I’m too goddamn scared right now because I couldn’t even be with her!”

Your mom reaches out to hug him with her free arm, Lucas between them, “it’s okay, Frankie. She will be okay. The baby will be okay. Have faith.” She murmurs, “you’re a good man. You just need to focus on your family.” She says and leans back to smile at him. The doctor comes out into the hallway to find where Frankie is waiting and Frankie stiffens as the doctor approaches. “Mom and baby are doing fine. Your daughter is healthy but we need to keep them both in for observation for at least a week. We will bring them back to the room soon.” She tells Frankie and your mom.

Frankie nearly collapses in relief and he doesn’t even think about it as he moves to take Lucas out of her arms to hold him close. “Mama and sister are okay.” He tells him quietly, closing his eyes and letting himself believe that everything will be alright. “Thank you.” He whispers quietly.

Your mom rubs his back, “she’s okay. They are both okay. This is it, Frankie. Make sure you let her know how much you love her and your family. Anything else? doesn’t matter.” She promises and Frankie nods. It doesn’t take long for them to roll you back into the room with your baby girl. You are a little out of it but you look up at Frankie and grin, “she’s okay.”

“Good.” He smiles down at you, but he doesn’t lean down to kiss your forehead. Your words and view of him still stings and his eyes are fixed on the tiny little bundle in your arms. “She’s gorgeous.” He whispers, Lucas asleep on his shoulder and he wishes he could hold her.

"I can take him." Your mom offers, "so you can hold her." You nod and Frankie lets his mother in law hold Lucas so he can cradle his newborn daughter. "She's strong. Like her daddy." You murmur, watching the awe on his face.

His brow furrows at your words but he doesn’t let it distract him from memorizing his daughter’s face. Falling in love with her immediately. “Hello, beautiful.” His finger caresses her cheek gently. “You are going to be trouble, aren’t you?” He coos softly. “Already impatient to be out and about.”

You watch him with tears in your eyes as he looks at his daughter and you are relieved she’s healthy and okay. “I’m so sorry, Frankie. I- it’s my fault that she’s here so early. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn and what I said before- I- I’m so sorry. I trust you. Of course I do. You’ve worked so hard and come so far, but I was scared. I didn’t want you to go over the edge if I died, if she died, and Lucas was left watching his father struggle.”

Frankie shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that.” He tells you gruffly. “You need to rest. You- you were worried.” He doesn’t tell you that most of the time people are more honest when they are scared, he just cuddles his daughter closer. “Did you decide on a name?”

"I wanted to discuss it with you." You tell him, "it's our decision but I was thinking...Francesca...after her father." You reveal, hoping he likes it. If not, you have other options.

Frankie bites his lip and looks down at his beautiful little girl. “You know everyone will be calling her Franny.” He hums. “But I love it.”

You chuckle, "I know but I thought it suits her. As soon as I saw her face. She looks just like you." You coo as Frankie brings her back to your chest while your mom holds Lucas. "I love you, Frankie. Never forget that." You plead, "I never stopped."

He nods, clearing his throat and he looks between you and your mom. “We don’t have anything here.” He huffs, a half smile on his face even though he’s not really feeling it. “Do you- uh, want me to go get some clothes and - or would you rather your mom went?” He asks, sure you would think he was running off to get high.

"Can you go get it?" You ask, wanting him to feel like you trust him. "I am going to try to get her to latch and Lucas can go home with my mom until we are out of the hospital...if that's okay with you?" You ask, wanting to be considerate to Frankie.

“Yeah.” He nods seriously and walks over to Lucas to kiss his forehead before he glances at his mother in law. “If you don’t mind?”

She shakes her head, "of course I don't. I am more than happy to spend time with my little man." She coos, rubbing Lucas's back. "Anything to help you both out. Go get the stuff. We will be fine." She promises, shifting to sit down with Lucas.

Frankie walks back over to you and the baby, leaning down and kissing Francesca’s head but he pulls back before he kisses your head. Since that first night he had been back from rehab, he’s never tried to kiss your lips again, wanting you to come to him, so it had become a habit to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be back soon.” He promises. “With everything on your baby list.” You had started making a list of everything you would need in the hospital.

****

You wince as you enter the house, your stitches pulling, and Lucas toddles around while Frankie carries Franny in her carrier. She's asleep and you are anxious to get her settled so you can relax a little. The surgery and stress of her birth have made you exhausted and you are eager to be in your own bed. "I'll go get the baby things." Frankie says after he sets her down, leaving her to sleep in the carrier.

He is tired, but he doesn’t regret any of the lack of sleep. It’s been amazing spending time with his baby girl. Your mother has brought Lucas to the hospital every day and his job has given him paternity leave, so he can focus on you and the baby.

You watch him as he rushes around to make sure everything is settled before he is sitting down on the sofa, showing Lucas a toy that your mom had gotten him for being a new big brother.

“You like this?” He asks with a smile on his face as Lucas grabs the toy and hugs it to his chest. “You’re going to be a good big brother, you know that?”

You smile, watching Frankie and Lucas. "He will be because his daddy is going to show him." You say and Frankie looks up at you with a look you don't recognize. So many years together, you know him inside and out but right now, he looks like a stranger. You spend a few hours settling in until Lucas is in bed and Franny is in the crib next to your bed. Frankie is getting a glass of water for you and when he brings it in, you look at him, "come to bed tonight." You request, wanting your husband next to you.

“Uh,” a week ago, Frankie would have jumped at the chance to sleep beside you. He had missed it every night that he had been on the couch, but he can’t do it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He admits. “Your stitches…” he wipes his hands on the sleep pants he had changed into. “If I’m out in the living room, I can immediately start making Francesca a bottle when she wakes up.”

You frown, your stomach twisting and your heart sinking with the rejection. It’s a flimsy excuse and you wonder if he hates you after everything you’ve put him through. Maybe he resents making him jump through hoops to get back with his family. “Yeah.” You murmur, shifting to lay down, “goodnight, Francisco.”

“Goodnight.” He murmurs your name and watches as you close the door to the bedroom. He sighs softly and reaches up to rub his cheek. It’s for the best. You don’t trust him and that’s just something he can’t quite move past.

****

It’s been a few months since you came home with Franny and Frankie went back to work when his leave ended, leaving you with two children. It’s exhausting but you love them both so much. Frankie is still sleeping on the sofa and you feel so guilty. He’s shown you how you can rely on him and you hate that you hurt him when you told him you didn’t trust him with Lucas if something happened to you.

Coming home, Frankie opens the door and sighs happily. “I’m home. I brought pizza.” He calls out, tossing his keys and kicking the door closed behind him. He managed to get off on time, aware that after a day with the kids, you don’t need him working extra.

“You’re a godsend.” You groan, coming into the living room with Lucas running up to his father shouting “dada!” and you take the pizza box from Frankie so he can greet his son. Franny is in her rocker and you are ready to eat and relax once the kids are settled.

“Hey buddy!” Frankie scoops him up with a groan and laughs when he tosses him up in the air, making Lucas shriek in delight. The fact that his son is running is amazing and terrifying at the same time. “How were they today? I also picked up a bottle of wine.”

“God, I love you.” You groan and he stiffens slightly until you continue, “they were - a lot. Lucas woke Franny up and she needed a diaper change but Lucas decided to run around with it so of course it went all over the floor and I had to clean it and give them both a bath and yeah. The wine is needed.” You sigh, “I have enough milk to pump and dump tonight.”

“Yeah.” He winces slightly. “I can take the night shift tonight.” He volunteers. “We don’t have a flight in the morning, it’s a training class.”

You don’t argue, knowing he wants to help out as much as possible. You put Lucas in his high chair and give him his dinner while Frankie plates up your slices along with a glass of wine. “Have you heard from the boys?” You ask once you’re sitting down and Franny is in her rocker while Lucas plays after you feed him.

“Yeah.” He nods and takes a bite of his pizza. “They are good. Benny’s still fighting. He’s moved up in the MMA circuit.” He had been asked to go out for a beer, which he turned down, and to come to a fight, which he also turned down. The baby is still too much for you to take care of during the day and expect you to watch her at night too.

You smile, “that’s amazing. You’ll have to go to one of his fights soon.” You tell Frankie who hums, he didn’t tell you that he’d turn down a couple of times going out with his friends. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me. I’m sure you’d rather be out with them.” You murmur, acknowledging that Frankie had become distant, even more so than when he was using.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I love being here with the kids.” He takes another bite of his pizza. “When we get done with dinner, I’ll get the bath time done and then work on the bottles.” He tells you. “What’s being out with the guys compared to spending time with Lucas and Franny?”

You smile, “yeah. They are the best company. Lucas listens to me ramble all day long without complaint.” You joke and after a moment, you reach for Frankie’s hand. “I know it’s hard to forgive me for what I said in the hospital but I’m sorry. I trust you. Implicitly. I would never have my mom take the kids from you. I’m sorry I said that. I was terrified and I thought, well, I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened to me again. I don’t feel like that. I did when you first got out but not now? You’ve more than proven that you are sober and capable. I’m so sorry I doubted you. I should’ve stood beside you as your wife as well as the mother of our children. I love you, Frankie, and I want…I want us to be married. I want our marriage back. Not just parents.” You confess, knowing he could say no.

He bites his lip, looking into your eyes and hoping that you aren’t just saying that. “Are you sure?” He asks, swallowing harshly. “I’ve- it’s gotten easier. Not wanting to reach for you. If you- I can’t have you change your mind. I won’t use again, but I-“ he struggles to explain himself. “I’ve tried so hard to compartmentalize things. To make it easier for you. I didn’t want you to feel like I was just trying to get back in your bed. When Franny was born….” He sighs. “I thought about divorce.” He admits.

Tears sting in your eyes at the news that he wanted a divorce and you resist the urge to pull your hand from his, “if you still want that…I’d understand, but I love you. I never stopped loving you. I was scared and in uncharted territory. I didn’t know how to react and I was trying to protect myself and our children. I was angry with you but now, I understand what you’ve been through. Why you did it. I’m not angry anymore and I trust you. Like I said, I want our marriage back but if you don’t…just tell me.”

“I didn’t leave.” He reminds you softly, squeezing your hand. “I thought about it, and I couldn’t see myself not seeing you every day.” He sighs again. “I don’t want to divorce, I didn’t want that when I was at my lowest and I don’t want that now. I want you, I want our family.” Frankie promises. “Whatever it takes.”

You smile, picking his hand up to kiss the back of it, “whatever it takes. Come to bed with me tonight. Not to have sex. I just want to be next to you.” You say and he nods. You aren’t ready to introduce sex back into your relationship. It doesn’t take long for Frankie to bathe the kids and you work together to get the kids ready for bed. “Goodnight baby.” You murmur to Lucas before Frankie reads his bedtime story. You warm up the bottle for Franny since you and Frankie drank most of the wine, and you settle her in the crib by your bed after she’s asleep on your chest. You get ready for bed just as Frankie tentatively enters the room. “I’m sure your back is killing you from sleeping on the sofa.”

“It hasn’t been great.” He admits with a soft laugh. “But I wasn’t going to make you sleep on the damn sofa.” He steps into the room and tilts his head. “You start snoring?” He asks teasingly.

You chuckle and shake your head, watching him start to strip down and your stomach twists at the sight of his strong back. You bite your lip and enjoy the sight of your husband after so many months at odds. “I'm glad you’re back where you belong.”

“I’ve missed you.” Frankie admits softly, smiling when he catches you eyeing him. You’ve never had any problem with your attraction to him and he’s glad that everything that’s happened hasn’t changed that. “Do you need some water before I get into bed?”

You nod and he pulls on his sleep pants before he makes his way into the kitchen to get you a glass of water. He hands the glass to you and you set it down on the side while Frankie heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he comes back out, you turn off the lamp and the baby monitor for Lucas is on the side while Franny sleeps in her crib. “Come here.” You say as you lift the covers and he slides into the bed. “Can you hold me?” You ask him, wanting to feel his arms around you again.

“I can do that.” He promises, opening his arms and sighing happily when you fold yourself into that space. “I hated not touching you.” He admits quietly, kissing your hair softly. “You’re right where you belong, baby.” He smiles and closes his eyes. “Right here with me.”

“I’m here, babe. I’m here.” You promise and sigh, pressing a soft kiss to his chest as you close your eyes. You need to sleep before either one of the kids wakes you up so you snuggle into his chest and fall asleep within moments.

****

“Frankie.” You whisper, poking your husband in the chest. He groans, grunting as you wake him up. “You okay?” He asks, voice heavy with sleep, and you swing your leg over his waist. “I need you.” You whine slightly, wanting to feel him. It’s been six months since Frankie came back into your bed and Franny is in her nursery, so you and Frankie have been exploring the physical side of your relationship again.

“Hmmm?” He groans when you slide your hand down into his boxers and wrap it around his cock. “You want that?” He is still tired but quickly becoming more alert as his body responds to yours. You are still as sexy as the day he took you home the first time and he doesn’t think he will ever think any differently. “How do you want it, baby? Want to ride me?”

“Want you on top. Want you to surround me.” You coo, squeezing his cock and you love the way he twitches in your hand, hardening at your touch. “Wanna feel you, baby. All of you.” You plead, leaning in to kiss his jaw.

“Give you whatever you want.” Frankie groans, running his hand down your back and squeezing your ass. You’re already naked, so you’ve obviously been thinking about this for some time before you woke him up. “Get a condom baby.” He reminds you. You hadn’t had any birth control after Franny, wanting to give your body a break and you both had decided that he would use condoms when you started being intimate again.

You reluctantly let him go so you can roll over and reach for a condom from the drawer, rolling back over to hand it to your husband who is kicking off his boxers. Your hand finds his cock again as he takes the condom from you and your lips meet his in the dark.

“I love you.” He whispers softly, reaching up to cup your cheek gently. He then rolls the condom down his cock and pumps himself a few times. “Take what you want baby.” He begs. “I’m yours.”

You reach down to position him at your entrance, wanting him inside of you. He groans as he starts to push into you, hovering over you, and you kiss him. “I love you.” You murmur, caressing his shoulders down to his back.

“I love you too.” Frankie groans, pushing his arms under you and pulling you close. He’s always loved the intimacy, the closeness of being with you. “You’re so perfect.” He whispers, kissing along your jaw.

You moan softly as he starts to move inside you, "I'm not. But I want to be the best for you. For the kids. I love you, Frank. So damn much. Will always be here for you." You promise and you wrap your legs around his, pressing your heels into his thighs.

Frankie uses his body to worship yours. Every thrust is slowly building up to a rhythm that has you panting breathless praises into his mouth. “Fuck baby, want you to soak me.” Frankie growls, pushing deep and groaning when you clench around him. “Give me one.”

He's always known exactly how to place your body, especially after so many years together. You gasp when he pushes deep and hits something that makes your thighs clench and your walls grip him tight. "Again. There." You demand and he grunts, focusing on that spot and you start to whine breathlessly as he works you higher until you are clamping down on his cock. His name smothered against his chin as you try to keep quiet to not wake the babies.

He shudders as you come apart around him, loving how wet and tight you get. “That’s it baby, that’s it.” He coos raspily, twitching inside you. “So good, you’re so good for me baby. Cumming on my cock like that. This is what you needed?” He asks, smirking against your neck as he starts to rock a little harder into you. “Needed me to fuck you before the kids wake up? Wanted to ache all day?”

You moan at his words, loving when Frankie talks dirty to you. He’s usually quiet, moans and groans, and he has to be really worked up to be talking like that. “Yes.” You whine, “want to feel you when I do the laundry. Want to know you fucked me hard. My husband giving me what I want.” You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling his head close so you can kiss him.

Your own words make him snap his hips harder, fucking into you with harsh, jolting thrusts. Working himself closer to the edge as he pulls moan after whimpering moan out of you. Feeling you clench down around him again, either to push him over the edge or because you came again, he doesn’t know. He groans your name into your mouth and pushes deep, throbbing inside you as he spills into the condom.

You try to catch your breath after he made you cum again, the way he groans your name has your heart pounding in your chest and you caress every inch of skin you can reach. “I’m so happy we made it through, baby.” You murmur when you are curled around him, condom thrown into the trash.

“Me too.” Frankie hums softly, caressing your skin gently as he thinks about how different things might have been and how he’s glad that they aren’t. “I just wish we could have one birth that wasn’t traumatic.” He admits.

You caress his chest, “I wouldn’t mind if we had another.” You comment, knowing that you have steady income now and he’s sober. There’s nothing to stop you from having another one. “I have been thinking about it. Another baby.” You confess, “if you want one.”

“Babe, are you sure?” He twists his neck to look at you. “It’s been a lot and I don’t want you to end up regretting it because we were talking about what ifs.”

“I’m sure. We are the best we have ever been. And Lucas is starting daycare soon. We will manage and my mom can help out. I want us to have a pregnancy that’s not a surprise and that isn’t traumatic for us both. I want to enjoy this. But after this one you’re getting the snip.” You tease, “I love you. I want to have another baby with you.”

“Okay.” Frankie grins as he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. “One more and we are done.” He promises. “I love you baby. Never doubt that.”

“You got another round in you, soldier? We can start trying tonight.” You smirk, sliding your hand down to his cock and you love how he starts to harden in your grip. “I love you.” You gasp when he rolls you over and bats your hand away. “Another round, but first…want to make you feel good.” He declares as he starts to kiss down your body. It’s been a rocky road to get to where you are now and there were times when you didn’t think you’d make it but you have. You and Frankie are strong and in love. Through all the trials and tribulations, you’ve made it and now you’ll enjoy making baby number three. You’ll get your happy ending with Frankie after all.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales fanfiction

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christinamadsen · 10 days ago

Text

Through the Highs & Lows {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.3k

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

****

The woman at reception checks the computer and frowns slightly. “He’s up on the third floor.” She tells you. “ICU.”

“Sober.” He agrees, his voice cracking slightly. “I won’t even fucking drink anymore.” He promises.

****

“Thanks.” He’s embarrassed that he’s put you through so much, but they’ve told him that he can’t dwell on that. He needs to show you, and him, that he has changed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He hangs his head, knowing he hadn’t helped matters. “I’ll get back flying and I’ll get a second job. She’ll get her money back.”

“Let me.” Frankie fusses, knowing that your stomach is getting in the way and he’s wanting to show that he’s willing to help. “Order me around.” He jokes.

“Is that funny?” Frankie chuckles, making a funny face at his son and turns the bathing into a little game that has Lucas laughing.

Sighing, he watches you go, hating that he had even tried. Parents. Apparently you love him but you only want to raise your kids with him. His heart breaks a little all over again.

****

“No, no, it’s okay.” He’s going to blame himself for this. He should have been home. “We- I need to get you up baby. We need to get you to the hospital.”

"I wanted to discuss it with you." You tell him, "it's our decision but I was thinking...Francesca...after her father." You reveal, hoping he likes it. If not, you have other options.

Frankie bites his lip and looks down at his beautiful little girl. “You know everyone will be calling her Franny.” He hums. “But I love it.”

“Yeah.” He nods seriously and walks over to Lucas to kiss his forehead before he glances at his mother in law. “If you don’t mind?”

****

You watch him as he rushes around to make sure everything is settled before he is sitting down on the sofa, showing Lucas a toy that your mom had gotten him for being a new big brother.

“You like this?” He asks with a smile on his face as Lucas grabs the toy and hugs it to his chest. “You’re going to be a good big brother, you know that?”

****

“Yeah.” He winces slightly. “I can take the night shift tonight.” He volunteers. “We don’t have a flight in the morning, it’s a training class.”

****

“Babe, are you sure?” He twists his neck to look at you. “It’s been a lot and I don’t want you to end up regretting it because we were talking about what ifs.”

“Okay.” Frankie grins as he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. “One more and we are done.” He promises. “I love you baby. Never doubt that.”

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales fanfiction

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