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misstokyo7love · 21 days ago

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Happy Halloween with Frankie Morales

The Summoning {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.8k

Warnings: Single parenthood. mentions of sexual awakenings, trick or treating, jealousy, possessiveness, disgusting behavior, horrible exes, confessions, making out, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, praise, soft dom Frankie, cream pie.

Comments: After both of your ex's left, you and Frankie become back up for each other as you navigate single parenthood. Trick or treating together with your boys leads to horrific things - the return of the monster exes. You only have each other to help you survive.

A/N: Reader's costume is Leia Organa's white dress, but no mention of race or ethnicity is mentioned.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

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.

“Alex, hurry up!” You call out to your son. “We need to get started trick or treating before it gets too dark!” You know that normally it’s the kids hassling the parents to go out and gather up pillowcases full of candy, but you are excited for this year. You don’t have to pull a wagon, or push a stroller, your son is old enough to want to go up to the doors alone to pick out his little treat and you had thought that your costume of Han Solo for him and Leia for you was particularly inspired. Glancing out the window, you see your neighbor, Frankie, setting out his bowl of candy on the porch. “Shit! The candy!” You hiss, having forgotten about your own bowl for the trick or treaters to grab while you are gone.

Frankie makes sure his porch light is on as he sets the plastic pumpkin full of candy on the doorstep with a sign that says ‘take one only’. He doesn't want to be a Karen, but the bars are full sized. He wanted to be a cool dad for his son by getting the big bars. His son who is practically vibrating with excitement to get out of the house. Dressed as Grogu, the five year old is excited to trick or treat. "Hurry up, Papa!" He demands by the garage door and Frankie chuckles, reaching for his helmet after he shuts the front door. "You got your bucket, little man?" He asks his son, "yeah!" He cheers and Frankie places the helmet on his head before he ushers his son onto the driveway so he can shut the garage door. He turns towards your house, his next door neighbor that has him jerking off every damn day. You moved in around the same time he did. Your boyfriend left you around the same time his wife asked for a divorce and you have helped each other out. Babysitting and school drop offs. You've been his angel, his unbelievably beautiful angel that he has sex dreams about. Tonight, you are his wet dream come true. "Fuck." He hisses, glad for the helmet on his head as you walk down the sidewalk to his driveway, dressed as Leia Organa. Most men would be turned on by the outfit Leia wore when she was captured by Jabba the Hutt but Frankie...his fantasy was the white dress with the blaster in her hand. Capable. Feisty. Sexy. And here you are, dressed in that outfit.

“Hi!” The boys rush towards each other, throwing their arms around each other like it has been five years instead of about an hour since they had seen each other. You normally pick the kids up from school, getting Frankie’s son as well since he got off work later than you did. You bite your lip and grin at the two before trying to hide how sexy you think Frankie looks in the Mando uniform. You waggle your brows as he struts up to you confidently, that blank visor almost as sexy as you had imagined it when you watched The Mandalorian. “Well, Mando.” You greet him with a grin. “They say that armor makes the man.” You whistle playfully. “I don’t know if I need to be walking around you. You’ll be beating the women off with a stick.” Frankie is your perfect version of a man. Strong, kind, a good father. He’s the type that will mow the grass and cut your yard too and yet he apologizes when he needs to ask if you can watch his son while he takes another flight. His sexiness is only increased by a thousand percent knowing he’s a pilot. It’s hard to imagine him dating one day and you hate that it won’t be you.

He chuckles, wiping his gloved hands on his pants, and shakes his head. He is glad he's used to wearing something on his face so he doesn't fog it up. "Yeah, while you are dressed as every guy's fantasy since 1977. You look amazing." He says and tilts his helmet, "this costume...it looks okay?" He asks while the boys tell each other how cool the other looks.

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, glancing up and down the costume. He got a really good one, it definitely wasn’t one of those cheap costumes he bought at Spirit. It was more of a cosplay costume and it makes you think of riding him while he’s wearing it. “It looks great.” You promise. “And Grogu is adorable.” You shift your attention back to the boys so you don’t embarrass yourself by drooling. “Are you guys going now? Do you want to trick or treat together?”

"Together!" Alejandro says and Frankie chuckles, reaching out to tug on the costume ears. "You good going together?" Frankie asks, knowing he'd be grateful to have company while Ale gets his candy. He will need a distraction from watching you walk in that damn costume but the kids will keep you occupied.

“Of course.” You scoff playfully and bat your lashes at him. “Help me, Mando.” You plead in the same tone Carrie Fisher had used as Leia. “You’re my only hope.” You know the night will be better in the company of your handsome neighbor and once you get your son to sleep, you will touch yourself thinking about the way he walks in that suit, how it seems to be natural on him.

Frankie bites his lip to smother the hiss that threatens to escape. His cock twitches under the suit and he inhales deeply to calm down. This is going to be a long night and he knows he will be jerking off in the shower after Ale is asleep. "This is the way." He deepens his voice and the boys cheer, gripping their bags as you set down the street to the first house.

You turn to check out the Halloween decorations in the yards, not wanting to have Frankie see how badly that change of tone affected you. You haven’t noticed how much his voice sounds like Mando’s. That’s just more fuel for the lust that is already out of control. “Okay, here’s the first house.” You call out cheerful, watching as the boys race up the walkway. “Remember your manners!”

The boys rush up to the door, ringing the doorbell, and Frankie chuckles when they shout "trick or treat!" at old man Jenkins. "How pissed off do you think he's gonna be by the end of the night?" He asks you as he turns his head, wishing he could see better in the damn helmet.

“He turns his light off in about thirty minutes.” You snort, glancing over at the helmet and it’s honestly disappointing not to look into those wonderful brown eyes he has. As soon as they get their candy, they are thundering back down the steps of the front porch and racing back over to the two of you. You lift a hand and wave at the old man. “Happy Halloween!” You call out. “And May the Force be with you!”

The old man waves back, “have fun kids.” He mutters as he closes his door, “he better make a move if she’s wearing that outfit. Every man’s fantasy.” The boys are already dragging you to the next house and you giggle, “we are gonna have to ration the candy.” Frankie nods, “they will be bouncing off the walls till Christmas.” The boys rush off down the walk of the next house and Frankie adjusts the belt of his costume, “so, uh, how was work today?”

“Work was long.” You admit with a shrug. “I would have rather been home with the boys, doing Halloween things.” Since your ex left, it seems like you have less time to really spend with your son on the fun projects but you haven’t been getting any money from him and child support enforcement is slow. “I wanted to make spooky pizzas for dinner but we didn’t get time.” You glance over at him. “Any flights today?”

Frankie sighs under his helmet, knowing that you’ve been struggling since your ex left. He wants to help out as much as possible and you are too proud to take money so he helps by looking after your son when he can. Ale loves it and he is happy to help. “Yeah. A few. One couple - either they are goths or really like Halloween - came dressed in all black and the guy proposed. It was romantic in its own way.” He chuckles, “they were happy and it kinda made me miss having a partner.” He confesses, “not that I miss Maria. She can go, well, you know, but I miss having someone there for the small things.”

“Yeah.” You snort. “I don’t miss He Who Shall Not Be Named, but I miss not being a single parent. I never thought he would quit being a father too.”

“He’s a - a barstool.” Frankie edits his curse when the kids rush back towards you both. “Yeah. A real barstool.” You scoff and you continue down the sidewalk to the next house. “Momma, look! I got Kit Kat!” Your son cheers as he holds up his treat and you smile, “that’s awesome, baby.” Frankie watches you with a smile concealed by the helmet. You’re such a good mother and you work hard for what you have. “I haven’t heard from Maria in so long. She just left town and - well, both of us deserved better.”

“I could never imagine just leaving Alejandro.” You murmur. You wouldn’t imagine leaving Frankie either, but that’s different. He is innocent and her child. You look at your son and could never leave him, no matter what. “Next house?” You ask the boys, who cheer happily, eager to get more candy.

Frankie walks alongside you as the boys chatter about their candy and he wishes again that this was his family. That he was with you and the boys were brothers. It’s impossible to make it a reality. He doesn’t want to ruin this great friendship he has with you. You’ve shared many nights together while the boys played. Watching movies as a group, having dinner, going bowling. It’s easy to imagine this being real. It’s too easy to love you and that terrifies him. He doesn’t want to get hurt again.

You enjoy listening to Frankie as he talks about his work and life. It’s easy and comfortable with him, almost scary how seamlessly he fits into your day to day life. Honestly, you don’t know how you would have survived your ex leaving you without Frankie’s help and his shoulder to cry on. You didn’t want the asshole back, he was right, you deserved better. But your son deserved his father and you can only thank Frankie for being a positive male influence for him now.

Frankie chuckles when the boys come rushing down the path towards you, buckets nearly overflowing. “I think we got enough candy.” He smirks just as Tony and his daughter appear. He’s dressed as Woody from Toy Story while his little girl, Sally, is dressed like Barbie. He’s a single parent but he has shared custody with his ex wife. He gets Sally on weekends. “Hey neighbors. You all look amazing. I freaking love Star Wars.” Tony grins and the kids start to compare candy while Tony drags his eyes along your form, “Leia was like my sexual awakening as a teenager.” He confesses with a chuckle, his eyes finally meeting yours.

You chuckle and shrug. “Wasn’t she everyone’s?” You ask, although you had definitely had a thing for Harrison Ford, you just wanted to be Leia. You look at Laurie and grin. “She’s a cute Barbie.” You compliment, although you don’t comment on his costume. “You had much luck tonight?”

Tony nods, “she’s gonna be bouncing off the walls for the entire weekend but I guess I can give her some candy and I’ll get to watch the game tomorrow. You watch football, Morales?” Tony asks Frankie, who shakes his helmet, “not really my thing.” He confesses, and Tony snorts, “probably more a Call of Duty kind of guy.” Frankie shakes his head, “I don’t really like to play games. Especially ones that remind me of combat.” He says and Tony doesn’t recognize the tone of his voice as his attention turns back to you, “listen, I, uh, I don’t have Sally on Friday. She’s having dinner with the ex bitch’s new boyfriend and he only has that night off. He’s a doctor.” He shakes his hands sarcastically, “and I wondered if you wanted to get dinner. Maybe Morales can watch your kid.”

You have to give him points for having the audacity to ask you out and proposition Frankie to watch your kid all in the same sentence, but it’s for all the wrong reasons. And the way Tony talks about his ex is disgusting, especially within earshot of Sally. You might have talked about your ex with Frankie, but you and Tony don’t have that kind of friendship. “Sorry.” You wince and try to look like you are sorry. “I’ve already made plans for the weekend.”

Frankie clenches his jaw under his helmet, wanting to grab Tony and tell him to fuck off but he isn’t that kind of guy. Instead, he reaches out to wrap his arm around your waist, dragging you against him. “Yeah. She has plans.” He says coolly to the other man whose eyes widen in understanding. “Good for you, man. Finally made a move.” He compliments, revealing how flippant he is, and Sally rushes over, “daddy! All the good candy is gonna go!” She whines and Tony sighs, “okay, honey. Come on. See you round, lovebirds.” He chuckles and walks off with his daughter. Frankie drops his hand from your waist, clearing his throat. “Sorry. I just - I figured you weren’t interested in him.”

“Don’t be.” You snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “I’d rather he believe I’m unavailable - forever.” You huff, wishing that you were off the market for that reason, but you don’t want to make Frankie think the only reason you’ve been helping him is so that you could get close to him. He has complained about some obvious moms at some do the school functions before. “Thank you, Francisco.”

Hearing you say his full name has his cock twitching but he pushes that aside, rubbing his gloved hands on his pants. “You ready to get the kids back? I have some snacks ready and we can watch a movie before they go to bed?” He suggests, having already agreed to watch the boys tonight so you can have some alone time.

“That would be good.” You agree, smiling at him through his helmet. “Something scary. I miss watching horror movies.” You admit. “I don’t like watching them all the time when I’m sleeping alone, but I’m going to do it tonight.” You laugh. “It’s Halloween after all.”

Frankie chuckles, “you’ll be fine. You pick the movie. I’ll handle our monsters.” He jokes as he calls out for the boys. “Time to head home. I’ll eat the unwanted candy.” He announces and Alejandro pouts, “papa. I want it all.” Frankie looks in his bag, “even the Almond Joy?” He raises his eyebrows even though no one can see. “Yeah.” Ale pouts and Frankie chuckles, “who the hell gives out Almond Joy on Halloween?” He scoffs as you make your way back to his house.

You giggle quietly. “I like Almond Joy.” You admit, grinning when he gives you a look of horror. “Not an almond fan or coconut fan?” You ask, remembering how much he had raved over your Italian crème cake you had made for spring. It definitely had coconut in it. You wonder if he had just been polite about it.

"I like the flavors but not almond joy. It's like the flax seed of candy. Doesn't taste naughty enough." He smirks but you can't see it. He reaches for his helmet, taking it off when you walk up his driveway and he punches the code in the pad to open the garage door.

You hum as the boys both race towards the interior garage door to go into the house. Gasping when the door opens before they get to it, and your entire body jolts in shock when you see Frankie’s ex standing in the doorway, smiling widely at Alejandro. “Baby boy!” She cries, crouching down and opening her arms wide for a hug.

Frankie freezes, almost dropping the helmet in his hand as he stares at Maria kneeling in the doorway, hugging the son she left behind. He swallows harshly, glancing at you, and he straightens his back. "Maria. What - what are you doing here?" He asks and she kisses Alejandro's hair while your son comes to your side. "I'm here to see my baby boy." She coos as she cuddles her son. "I, uh, I didn't know - you didn't call. You've been gone for eighteen months." He says with a bite to his tone.

“Well I’m back now.” She replies breezily, as if she had just been late getting home from the store. Your stomach twists, knowing how broken up Frankie had been when she left and now she’s back. You call your son over to your side. “Come on, buddy.” You murmur quietly, knowing the plans have changed. “We need to get home.”

Frankie turns to look at you, "can you take Ale? I need to talk to her." He asks and you nod, "of course." Alejandro steps back from his mom. She left him and he asked where she was every damn day for a month so now, Frankie is pissed at her. "Wait. I want to see my son." Maria pouts and Frankie shakes his head, "we need to talk." He tells Alejandro to go eat some candy at your house and he is eager to go, rushing off with you and your son to inspect their loot. Frankie closes the garage door and ushers a pouting Maria into the house. "What are you doing here?" He asks, setting the helmet down on the counter.

“I live here.” Maria tells Frankie, who scoffs and shakes his head. “You haven’t lived here for eighteen fucking months.” He reminds her. Sighing, she sends him a puppy dog look that used to melt any resistance he had towards her. “I missed you,” she pouts softly, stepping closer and running her hand down the armor plate on his chest. “This is shiny.” She coos, hoping to seduce him and put him in a better mood. Frankie is always pliable after cumming.

Frankie takes her hand and pushes it away, she can’t melt him with that face any more. “You left. Without a word. Ale asked about you for a fucking month and I didn’t even have an answer for him. I heard you were seen with his pediatrician. I took him for his check up and the man had the fucking audacity to smirk when he fake asked me where you were. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. It’s over, Maria. I don’t wanna hear your excuses. I don’t want to listen to you beg and plead to come back. We are doing fine without you. I packed up your things. They are in the guest room. Get your shit and get out of my house. I’ll see you in court for custody.” He says with as much calm as he can muster but his eyes are piercing.

Maria frowns and bites her lip. “But that was a mistake, baby.” She whines softly. “I- I was being foolish. I didn’t realize what I had.” The plain truth was that he had dumped her. Told her that he was bored and it was time to move on. The trade up that she had been expecting lasted a short time and then she had been sent packing. “I realize that now and we can be a family again.”

Frankie scoffs, “you cheated on me, left me and our son without even a note, and you expect me to take you back? I’ve fought in the most dangerous places on the planet and I’d sooner be dropped back there than get back together with you. We are done. Go back to wherever you crawled out from. My lawyer will be serving divorce papers and I want majority if not full custody of our son.” He says with a clenched jaw, ready for her to be out of his house. All that time he thought he had driven her away but she is the reason she left, not him. She was greedy and wanted more. “Leave now before I call the police.”

This time, Maria’s face twists into an angry scowl. “You can’t do this, Francisco.” She sneers. “This is my house too. And there’s no way a court would give you custody with your record.” She taunts, smirking viciously. “Drug charges aren’t good for custody battles.”

“You left. You left without a word and I’m clean. I go to meetings. I go to therapy. Damn sure had to do more of it after you left. I’ve been here for our son. I provide for our son. I own this house. You moved in with me, remember? Leave now. You can’t intimidate me.” He promises, crossing his arms.

Gritting her teeth, Maria fumes that he’s not falling at her feet, happy that she’s giving him another chance. “This isn’t the end of this, Francisco.” She hisses, pushing past him to the door. “You’re gonna regret this.”

Frankie watches her go, exhaling in relief when the door shuts. He leans against the wall and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want his wife back but he hates that she hurt him so much. He’s been in battles, taken bullets, taken lives, and nothing affected him more than being left by his wife. He knows he fucked up when he got into coke. A mistake he made when Alejandro got really sick. He was in hospital with an infection and they weren’t sure if he was gonna make it. Frankie went off the deep end but he crawled his way back to be the husband and father he should’ve been. Maria repaid him by leaving and cheating on him. He gathers his thoughts and decides to make his way over to your place. He needs a drink and someone to talk to.

You’ve been trying not to think about what is happening next door since you shuffled the kids into your house. You’ve had them dump their buckets and helped them go through the candy, throwing out any that had been opened and explaining why it was necessary. Hating how your stomach is churning and you want to look over there, but you don’t. Finally allowing them to pick out three pieces of candy to eat before bed, you laugh when both boys choose the full sized candy bars they had gotten from Frankie’s candy bowl. “Alright, but you will only have that one.” You warn.

Frankie comes over, knocking on your door despite him having the code. He doesn’t want to intrude after he has spent ten minutes calming down. You answer the door and he inhales deeply, his dark eyes soft as he looks at you with worry on your face. “She’s gone.” He murmurs, “I sent her away.”

“That was a surprise.” It’s an understatement but you don’t want to insult her if he’s going to get back together with her. “Alejandro keeps asking about her.” You glance back at the boys as they sit at the table. “She coming back tomorrow?”

Frankie shakes his head, "I told her to get her shit from the garage and leave. I am not getting back together with her. She cheated on me in my darkest moment. She was supposed to stand by my side. I cannot - we are done. I don't love her and I will fight to keep Ale from her. You can't pick and choose when you can be a parent." He curls his upper lip in disgust and looks over at the boys, "am I doing the right thing? Sending her away from him?"

“You are.” You assure him, feeling guilty for it, but you are relieved. You don’t want him to get back together with a woman who is so selfish to leave her son. “Think about how upset Ale will be when she disappears again.”

Frankie nods, "I - I can't let her hurt him again. When she left the first time, he was so upset." He murmurs as the boys look over at him and Alejandro rushes over to him. "Papa! Where's mama?" He asks and Frankie swallows, kneeling down to talk to his son. "Mama had to leave. She - she lives in another house. She will talk to you soon." He vaguely promises and sighs when Ale pouts in disappointment but it's better this way. "She left again?" He asks and Frankie nods, "yeah. It's okay though. Show me what candy you got." He distracts the little boy who grins and grabs his hand to drag him over to the table to show him his loot.

You watch the two of them, your heart aching for the little boy, although you know he will be better for this. His mother drifting in and out of his life would do him no good. “They really raked in the candy.” You walk over and ruffle your son’s hair affectionately.

Frankie chuckles, “we will have to ration them. Are you okay having them tonight? We can put them to bed and watch that scary movie but I doubt anything is gonna be as scary as Maria showing up.” He chuckles sarcastically as he watches the boys.

“No, you deserve to get drunk.” You snort, it’s a change from him having the kids, but that’s okay. “Maybe go out and have some fun.”

He shakes his head, “nah. I’d rather be here watching a movie with you unless you wanna be alone?” He asks, tilting his head towards you in case you want to be on your own.

“No.” You shake your head. “I’d rather watch a movie with you than be alone.” You bite your lip, watching him sigh softly and look back towards Alejandro again. “It will be okay.” You promise, putting your hand on his costumed arm.

He sighs and glances down at his outfit, “good thing there’s sweats under the armor.” he chuckles and ruffles his son’s hair, “come on mijo. Time for bed.” He orders and Alejandro pouts, “but I want to have another piece of candy.” Frankie shakes his head, “you can have some candy tomorrow. Come on, we can put an episode of Mandalorian on for you.”

You also usher your son to bed through the protests, although they are fewer now that he knows Alejandro will be spending the night. You keep a toothbrush for the other boy and soon their teeth are brushed and you’ve promised they can sleep in the core of their costumes, without any of the ties and toys.

The boys snuggle into the sheets as you kneel on the bed to put on an episode of The Mandalorian. “One episode. The TV is on a timer and I have the remote so sleep as soon as it’s over, okay?” You say and they nod, “yes mommy.” Your son says and Frankie comes in to say goodnight to his son after he’s gotten comfortable taking his shoes and costume off.

You kind of hate that he has taken off the costume, it was hot. You step back and wonder if you should change out of the Leia outfit, since he was dressing down. But before you can decide, you hear the doorbell and a chorus of “trick or treat!” Coming from the front porch. “Oh, I’ll get them.” You had forgotten to turn off the light and the candy bowl was empty.

Frankie watches you head to the front door, older kids standing there with buckets and you hold your finger up. “Hold on, kids. I have another bag.” You promise and rush into the kitchen. Frankie makes his way to the front door to see the kids, “you’ve got some cool costumes.” He smiles, looking at the excited teenagers. He remembers those days. So eager to grow up and now, he’d give anything to regain that kind of innocence.

“Thanks.” Happy to just not be hassled for being “too old to trick or treat”, the kids stand patiently while you rush over with a bag of candy and start handing it out. “Happy Halloween!” They thunder back down the stairs and out into the dark night, laughing and chattering happily about their candy haul.

Frankie chuckles, "I miss those days sometimes until I remember how awkward I was and I couldn't even talk to a girl." He admits after you close the door.

“You?” You scoff, sending him a dubious look. “I doubt that. I’ve seen pictures of you from boot camp, you were so cute. There’s no way you didn’t have a girlfriend or several in high school.”

Frankie blushes a little at your compliment, “I was super awkward. I could barely say hi to a woman. It wasn’t until boot camp that I lost my virginity to this girl who worked at the local bar and I was kinda a late bloomer.” He admits and watches you for a moment. “You got any popcorn, sweetheart? I can get the movie set up.”

You know that he’s a little uncomfortable, but you nod, giving him a minute. “Sure. Kettle corn alright?” You know it is, it’s his favorite. He nods and you go into the kitchen to get the popcorn started, putting together a little tray of food to go along with the snack. Knowing Frankie, he hasn’t eaten dinner and he should.

He turns on the TV and finds the app to open for the scary movie and he calls out “what do you wanna watch?” just as the doorbell rings and Frankie frowns, knowing it’s too late for trick or treaters now.

“Who the hell could that be?” You had turned off the light and frown as you come out of the kitchen. Frankie stands up but you wave him off. “I’ll get it.” You promise, opening the door and your eyes widen in shock at the sight of your ex boyfriend standing in the doorway.

Frankie frowns when he hears your gasp and he stands up, “what’s going on? Who is that?” He asks with concern lacing his voice. He walks over to the door and his frown deepens when he sees your ex standing there.

“What are you doing here?” You demand and he holds up his key ring. “Why the fuck doesn’t my key work?” He answers, making you scoff. “I changed the locks when you decided you were leaving.” You tell him. “You don’t get to just walk back into my house whenever you want.”

Frankie clenches his jaw, pissed that your asshole ex is back on the scene. Tonight really is a demonic event. He steps back, heart aching because he knows you might want to get back together with him. You’d mentioned how lonely you are and how you miss having a partner.

His eyes shift to Frankie behind you. Narrowing slightly in recognition. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Your ex puffs up, like he’s trying to be intimidating, but he just manages to look like a fool. “Frankie is here because I want him to be.” You snap. “Unlike you. So I’ll ask again, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Frankie doesn’t like his tone and he hovers. “I am here to see my son. I want to come home.” Your ex demands, “this is my house. I want to come back.” He says with his jaw clenched, “and you should let me come home now. It’s been long enough.”

“Not a fucking chance.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “It’s too late to wake him up and you haven’t seen him in a year and a half. A YEAR AND A HALF!” You hiss angrily. “You aren’t coming back home. Your home is with whatever slut you were sleeping with.”

Frankie puffs his chest, angry for you, and he shakes his head at the audacity. “You can’t keep him from me.” Your ex growls and you shake your head, “you left. You left him. And me. For some slut that works at the shop.” Your ex scoffs, “she was good for sucking cock, that’s all.”

“And yet you threw away our relationship and didn’t see your son this entire time.” He must have gotten dumped. “He’s asleep and I’m watching a movie, so you need to leave.”

Your ex exhales through his nose, “this ain’t over. I’ll be back. He’s my son. You are mine. I won’t just give that up.” He growls and spins on his heel, stalking down the path to his truck.

“When you come back, why don’t you bring me a check for the last year and a half of child support!” You call after him, slamming the door and throwing the lock for good measure, unable to believe the audacity of that asshole. “Fucking prick!” You hiss to yourself.

Frankie clenches his jaw and flexes his fingers, tempted to head outside to find that prick. “I’m so sorry. I guess tonight if truly the fucking night of demonic appearances.” He scoffs and reaches for your hand, “do you wanna talk about?”

“We need a fucking drink.” You decide, turning back towards the kitchen to change the hot chocolate you were going to make for something stronger. “You think they planned this shit together?” You ask him, yanking a bottle of wine out of the fridge.

Frankie sighs, following you, “I don’t know. I think - I think they both had a feeling that we were finally happy without them and they decided to show up and fuck with us.” He snorts, walking over to you as you pour out the wine. “You sure you’re okay? I know he hurt you.”

“I’m mad for Alex.” It had always amused you that the boys had such similar names, especially since you and Frankie were the ones to pick them out. They always claimed there were twins and a few times, you wished that was true. So you could be with Frankie. “He just decides when he gets to be a father? He was a shit boyfriend, but I thought he loved his son.”

Frankie can’t help it. He reaches for you to pull you into his arms. “Come here, sweetheart. He’s an asshole. Don’t let him get under your skin. You have custody of Alex and there’s nothing he can do about it. Except pay his fucking child support.”

You lean into his hug, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing. Breathing in the warm and safe scent of your neighbor. Hating how it instantly relaxes you and turns you on at the same time. “I fucking hate it.” You huff. “You don’t even know how many times I’ve wished you were Alex’s dad.”

Frankie kisses your hair, “me too. I wish - so many times I’ve imagined us as a family. You’re such a good mother. Exactly what Ale deserves and he loves you so much. I- I love you so much.” He reveals against your hair, closing his eyes as he prepares for your rejection.

“Oh Francisco….” You murmur softly, hugging him tighter before you pull away to look him in the eyes. “I love you too.” You confess, smiling at the way his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “I have been crushing on you since you moved in, but I really started falling for you once we were single parents together, helping each other out.”

Your loving gaze makes his heart pound in his chest and he knows this is real. You’ve both turned down your exes tonight and he can’t help himself. He cups your cheek and surges forward to press his lips to yours. Every emotion he’s felt for you comes out in full force as he pours himself into the kiss.

It’s passionate, hot, and even sweet all mingled together. You moan in relief, feeling the emotion course through you as you wind your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Waiting for this moment for so long has made you ravenous for him.

He groans into your mouth as you cling to him, making him realize that this is real. He’s kissing you. You love him. His fantasy is coming true and that makes him growl into your mouth, tongue sliding between your lips while his hands slide down to squeeze your ass.

You shiver, always suspecting that Frankie is a very physical man and it’s thrilling to find out how right you are. He might claim to have been shy as a boy, but the man he is now has no problem touching you. Your hands slide down his back and you roll your hips against a hardness that is rapidly growing and making you drip in anticipation.

Frankie groans into your mouth as he walks you backwards towards your sofa. Netflix is still on the TV and he sits down, dragging you into his lap. When you straddle him and press down onto his bulge, he groans your name and grabs your ass again. “Fucking love this costume.” He admits, “was gonna jerk off thinking about you wearing it.”

You giggle, pressing your lips to his jaw and scraping your teeth over his skin. He’s got a lovely little five o’clock shadow of hair and you know it will feel so good against your skin. “Me too.” You hum. “Disappointed you took your costume off. Mando could have fucked Leia.”

“Shit. I could go back to the house but I don’t think I can. I - I want you, baby. If you wanna eat popcorn and watch a movie and make out I’m happy for that but if you want, I wanna spread you out and lick at your pussy like I’ve dreamed of doing so many goddamn times before I make you cum on my cock.”

You groan, nodding breathlessly. “Take me to bed, Francisco.” You order, leaning in and kissing him hard on the mouth before pulling away. “I’ve been tested, had to after finding out he was cheating. I’m clean.”

Frankie groans when you shuffle off his lap. "I'm clean too. Got tested after she left and I haven't -" He cuts himself off as he stands and he watches you, growling as the need overwhelms him again and he bends over, wrapping his arms around your thighs to lift you over his shoulder.

Squealing in surprise turns to laughter, echoing down the hall and you can only hope you don’t wake the boys. “Caveman!” You giggle, smacking his ass as he strides down the hallway to your bedroom. He knows which one is yours, he’s been in it to fix the sink in your bathroom. “Fuck that’s so hot.” You moan, cunt clenching around nothing. “Dragging me off to fuck me.”

Frankie pushes your bedroom door open with his foot and throws you onto your bed after he kicks the door shut. He watches you bounce on your bed and he reaches for your ankle, "so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, sliding his hand along your calf.

There’s an appeal to his roughness. You don’t mind a little bit of manhandling at all, especially when it’s tempered with praise. “Goddamn you are sexy.” You groan, licking your lips as your eyes slide down to where his sweats are tented by his hard cock. “I swear to God I wouldn’t have survived you in a fucking uniform.”

He chuckles, “I still have my uniforms.” He smirks, “maybe we can have another costume night.” He teases and slides his hand higher until he’s pressing his fingers against your covered cunt. “Fuck. Can feel how wet you are.” He murmurs, his eyes focused on where his fingers are until they flick up to look at you. His hand slides up to squeeze your breast through your costume and he groans your name.

“Frankie, fuuuuuuuck.” You whine, pressing your hips down and wishing that there was nothing between the two of you. “I need you baby.” You beg softly. “Been turned on since I saw you in your costume and it’s only gotten worse. My clit is throbbing.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll suck on it.” He smirks as he reaches for the waistband, dragging the leggings you wore underneath the dress down to expose your panties beneath. “Take the top off.” He orders as he tosses the white bottoms over his shoulder.

You moan, sitting up and dragging your costume over your head and unclipping your bra after reaching behind you. “Fuck, I need you baby.”

He nods, “you’ve got me.” He promises as he leans back to admire your body. “Shit. You’re better than I imagined.” He confesses and groans as he shifts to kneel between your legs. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He murmurs as he kisses your stomach up to your breast. He slides his tongue along the underside of your tit until he takes your nipple into his mouth.

You moan, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his mouth on you. “Frankie.” You gasp his name when he toys with your nipple with his teeth. “So good.”

He loves how you writhe under him and he’s barely gotten started. He groans against your skin, cock aching in his sweats but thankfully not as confined as jeans. He squeezes himself while his other hand trails along your thigh until he’s sliding his fingers through your folds.

“More.” You beg, already needing more from him and he’s barely touched you. “You don’t- you can just fuck me.” You bargain. You don’t want him to do it just because he feels like he has to. You’d rather you both enjoy sex, even if you probably won’t cum.

Frankie offers you a scoff and a shake of his head. “You have any idea how many goddamn times I’ve imagined you spread out like this? I’m gonna enjoy it.” He promises as he kisses down your stomach, “I want to taste you. Make you cum on my tongue. And my fingers. And my cock.” He murmurs between kisses until he’s between your thighs. He pushes them further apart to see your cunt properly. “Fuck. So pretty.” He murmurs before he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds.”

The way you keen should be a crime. He pulls it out of you with the flick of his tongue and the skill of his mouth. This is a man who enjoys eating pussy, not just viewing it as a chore. You moan his name, reaching down and twisting your fingers in the bedspread as he takes you apart lick by lick.

He loves how you taste. Tangy and sweet like a candy and he sucks your clit between his lips. His dark eyes watch you as he makes you moan, his hands sliding up so he can palm your tits, squeezing them until he pinches your nipples.

You bite your lip when you look down at him, his dark eyes focused on you like you are the only thing in the world. You love it, moaning his name again, you reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair.

Frankie groans, loving the way you tug on his hair as he laps at your clit. He desperately wants you to fall apart for him. He needs to taste your cum before he slides into you. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs before he sucks on your clit, his hand finding yours to squeeze it.

He is the beautiful one. Gorgeous between your thighs and looking up at you. You moan his name again and roll your hips down to meet his mouth. “Fuck, Frankie!”

He grabs your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders so he feels smothered by you. He wants to drink you down, make you scream his name. He groans into your flesh when you tug on his hair again when he pushes his tongue into your pussy.

You whine, feeling your entire body lurching and bucking in pleasure as he pushes his tongue deep. “Frankie!” You squeal, eyes closed tight and you feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven.

Your squeal makes his cock twitch, pre-cum soaking his sweats as he slides his tongue through your folds, pushing it deep again until he decides to flick the tip of his tongue over your clit. Eyes closed as he enjoys this moment that he’s imagined so many damn times.

He’s relentless, pushing his tongue deeper and curling it up. He wants you to fall apart, that is obvious from the determined set of his jaw. “Oh god, oh fuck, I’ve never - ever had someone be this eager.” You pant, unable to breathe he is flicking his tongue so deep inside you.

He pulls back to a second to look up at you, “then you’ve been sleeping with fucking idiots.” He growls before he dives back in, wanting to watch you fall apart for him before he slides inside you. His hands squeeze your flesh, his tongue pushing deep until his nose presses against your clit.

It’s hard to imagine sleeping with anyone better. Gasping when his prominent nose nudges you. His tongue quickly works you back up towards the edge and with one more flick of his tongue, you are sent spiraling, crying out loudly as you fall apart.

He holds you down as you spasm beneath his tongue. He’s aching, pressing into the mattress as he laps up every drop of your pleasure. He loves it. He loves you. “That’s it, baby.” He says between laps of his tongue until you’re pushing him away.

Your chest is heaving, breath heavy as your thighs shake and your cunt quivers in pleasure. “Oh fuck.” You moan. “Oh fuck, you’re so good. You’re so good, baby.” You praise, reaching down and needing to kiss him.

He shuffles up your body to press his lips to yours, his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweats and he’s so hungry for you. His tongue slides into your mouth, loving how you moan and taste yourself on his tongue while his hand cups your breast.

You want him. Reaching down, you hook your fingers under the waistband of his sweats and try to push them down, eager to touch him, to have him inside you. Gone is any worry about messing this up, you just need him.

When your fingers wrap around his cock, he groans and presses his forehead to your chin, watching your fingers squeeze him and he pants, “hold on, babe. Let me - let me take them off.” He pleads and you release him, letting him shift off the bed to kick off his sweats while he pulls his shirt over his head.

“Fuck, you are so gorgeous.” You moan, pressing your thighs together before spreading them wide in invitation. You want him to hurry up and fuck you. Needing that thick cock inside you. “That cock- fuck Francisco.” You whine. “I need it inside me.”

Frankie groans, wrapping his fingers around his cock as he kneels on the bed and shuffles closer. “You need it? Tell me how much you need it.” He demands, his free hand sliding through your slicked up folds.

“So bad, it hurts.” You promise him. “My pussy hurts, it’s so empty.” You probably aren’t making any sense, but you ache for him. Needing him to fill you up. “Fuck me, baby, I need you to fuck me.”

He chuckles at your whiny tone, loving it after imagining so many times how good you’d feel around him. He shifts closer, his slick fingers squeezing your thigh as he slides the head of his cock through your folds. Your whine is louder until it transforms into a moan as he starts to push into you, slowly stretching you out.

“Ohhhhhh godddddddd.” Your head tilts back and your eyes close as he fills you. Managing to scrub against every nerve inside your sensitive pussy and sink impossible deep. “So good.” You gasp, hands on his shoulders and fingernails digging into his skin slightly.

He shifts closer, resting his weight on his elbows, and he leans in to kiss along your neck. "So goddamn good around me. Always imagined you would be. So fucking perfect." He murmurs between kisses as he shifts his weight so he can caress your thigh.

He’s so fucking big inside you. Your walls are pulsing around him and every time he twitches, it feels like he’s poking against your cervix. “Fuck, move baby.” You beg, wanting him to wreck you. “Show me how you’ve imagined me.”

He nods, biting down on your chin as he squeezes your thigh, lifting it up higher, and he rocks into you. He’s slow and methodical. Loving the way you whimper when he pushes deep. “I love you.” He murmurs into your skin as he kisses your jaw.

Your fingers caress his shoulders and you sigh softly. “I love you too.” You breathe out quietly, feeling your heart swell happily. Your legs slide up high on his hips and then hook behind his ass. “So much.”

Frankie loves how you push on his ass to make him sink even deeper inside you. He groans, rocking into you a little faster, and he presses his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

It’s not as fast or as hard as you have imagined before, but it’s perfect. You feel everything and the emotions have you nearly tearing up as he kisses you like it’s the last thing he will do. Pulling him closer and kissing him back just as eagerly.

He loves how you feel around him, beneath him, and he rocks into you like he has all the time in the world. Slow and deep. "Feel good?" He asks against your jaw, voice raspy from emotion.

“Sooooo good.” He has no idea what he does to you, what he is doing to you. “You’re perfect, Frankie.” You turn your head and kiss up his jaw and then back down again, nipping his skin slightly.

"You're perfect." He murmurs, closing his eyes as you nip at his skin. His pace increases, his hand sliding under you to get you even closer to him.

You moan, feeling so connected to him right now. It’s like the two of you are one whole together. “You -You’re perfect.” You pant, gasping for breath as he steals it from you.

Frankie doesn’t respond, he wants to show you how perfect he thinks you are. You’ve been his rock since his ex left and he knows you’ll be there no matter what happens next. He rocks into you a little faster, adjusting the angle with each thrust as he tries to find the spot that makes you cry out. When he finds it, he groans at the way you clench around him, and he focuses on it. He wants you to fall apart for him.

He has to be the perfect lover. You cling to him, moaning and whining every time he pushes against that perfect spot deep inside you. He seems to love hearing your sounds so you don’t hold back. “Fuck, fuck baby, I love you.”

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel it. Squeeze me. Fuck - wanna feel you cum for me.” He demands, focusing on that spot with a determination that matches when he’s flying.

It doesn’t take long to do exactly as he says. The insistent push of his hips and the strategic angle that he’s shredding up into you sends you over the edge with a sharp howl of his name as your vision goes white and stars bursts behind your eyes.

Frankie watches you as you fall apart beneath him and shit, it's gorgeous. Your eyes roll back and your body shakes beneath him as you enjoy the pleasure that rushes through your body. "So fucking beautiful." He murmurs and slows his pace, helping you ride through it while he kisses along your jaw.

You moan his name, almost upset that he’s slowed down. “Baby, I want to feel you cum.” You whimper, turning and pressing your lips to his and enjoying the way he groans into your mouth. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Not yet.” He groans, pulling out of you and you whine. He slaps your thigh, “hands and knees. Wanna make you cum again.” He demands, “wanna feel it one more time before I fill you up.” He squeezes his cock, slick with your juices.

“Oh god.” You huff, rolling over to your stomach and coming up on your hands and knees. You hadn’t expected multiple positions the first time around, but he’s full of surprises. “Fuck me baby.” You beg, looking back over your shoulder at him as you shake your ass enticingly.

He can’t resist smacking your ass with his free hand, squeezing the flesh as he shuffles closer to you. He groans your name as he slides his cock through your dripping folds. “Gonna make you cum again.” He promises as he pushes into you.

You groan in pleasure, your already fluttering cunt greedy for another orgasm. You can’t even remember the last time you’ve cum from anything except your toy and now you are being spoiled. “Gonna get me addicted.” You pant.

He chuckles, caressing your lower back, “that’s the point, babe.” He grabs your hips so he can start pulling out of you until he slams his hips against your ass, loving the way it jiggles and he can’t help pressing his thumb against your puckered hole.

You choke out his name, surprised by the action but you don’t pull away. You can’t, not when it feels so good. He’s downright filthy and you love it

He rocks into you, his other hand sliding down to rub your clit as he bends over you. He wants you to cum again for him and he wants to fill you up.

His chest is pressing into your back, pushing you down and you love how he feels. Surrounding you, overwhelming you. He’s completely in control and his fingers are pushing you towards another orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck. Pussy feels so good around me. Knew it would. Jesus, you’re so perfect. Wanted you for so long. Jerked off so many times imagining you.” He murmurs, groaning your name when your walls flutter around him. “That’s it. Cum for me. Wanna feel it again.”

You collapse down onto the bed, pressing your cheek to the cool sheets as he hammers into you. Squealing and moaning every time his hips slap sharply into your ass. He pinched your clit and you lurch forward, crying out in pleasure again.

“Fuck. That’s it. That’s it.” He grunts, rubbing your clit for a few more seconds before he slides his hand from beneath you. He grabs your ass, squeezing the flesh as he pushes into you over and over again. “Fuck. I’m gonna - I’m gonna. Gonna cum.” He warns you through gritted teeth as he closes his eyes when he can’t hold on any longer.

You feel his hips stutter, slamming into you one last time and grinding deep, the heat of his cum flooding your pussy walls and filling you up. It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt and you moan his name while he rides out his high, clenching down around him again.

Frankie leans over you, pressing his forehead against your back and he presses a soft kiss to your skin as he tries to catch his breath. His cock twitches inside you and he can't believe that just happened.

You melt into the bed, bringing him with you as he collapses on top of you. “Could sleep just like this.” You groan happily, closing your eyes and sighing softly.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder, and he pulls out of you. He groans as he watches his cum well up between your folds. “So fucking pretty.” He murmurs, “everywhere.” He sighs as he flops to lay down beside you.

“You are pretty.” You hum, eyes still closed but there is a smile on your face. “We should have done that months ago. Maybe even a year.” You crack one eye open to look over at him in his gloriously disheveled state. “Fuck, you look even better post sex.”

He looks at you and chuckles, rubbing his chest that’s slick with sweat. “You do too. Yeah, we definitely should’ve done that earlier. But we have tons of time to make up for it.” He smirks, knowing the boys will be having lots of sleepovers now.

“Yeah?” You lean over and press your lips to his shoulder before rolling over to curl into him. “Plan on spending a lot of time in bed, Morales?” You tease.

He wraps his arm around you and he kisses your forehead. “Hell yeah. We got a lot of time to make up for.” He chuckles and enjoys the way you caress his chest. “And I want to go on a proper date. Like get Kelly down the street to babysit and we can dress up to go for dinner.”

“Fancy.” You tease, although it’s a very sweet sentiment. “I would go on a date with you. Of course.” Frankie dressed up would be so sexy and you haven’t been out in so long.

Frankie smiles, “good. I want to spoil you. You deserve so much better than that asshole.” He scoffs, “you deserve the damn world and I’m gonna give it to you.” He promises, turning his head to nudge your nose with his.

“Yeah?” You nudge him back and grin. “Why don’t we start with getting some of that leftover Halloween candy to share and we can go from there.”

“Fuck yes.” Frankie grins, “I’ll get the candy. You want a beer?” He asks and you nod. He shuffles off the bed and grabs his sweats, pulling them on before he disappears to your kitchen to grab some snacks. He pauses by the boys, slowly opening the door to see them both asleep and he shuts it softly. He can’t help but smile, his cheeks aching from how happy he is. He finally feels like things are happening for a reason. He has you, you love him, you have the boys and they are like brothers already. Despite your exes showing up like a goddamn demonic summoning, you and Frankie are together and that is definitely not a trick. It’s the best treat he’s ever gotten.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #catfish morales

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misstokyo7love · 1 month ago

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I enhanced the pic as good as I can !!! My service for my fellow Frankie fans 🙂‍↕️

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misstokyo7love · 1 month ago

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Cleavage forever

So we all agree, Pedro should only wear open shirts from now on...???

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #neckappreciationpost

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misstokyo7love · 1 month ago

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LoveLoveLove this series and the one-shots are the cherry on top

One Day at a Time

Joel becomes a dad. Again.

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut. Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Joel is a sap, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3 Word count: ~25.7k

Notes: It’s a pregnancy/baby fic. Knocked Up, but make it **post-apocalypse**. Joel Miller’s sperm should be registered as a weapon of mass creation. I really just needed to imagine Pedro Pascal holding a baby. Sorry/not sorry.

Chapter 1: Conception

Chapter 2: Implantation

Chapter 3: Embryo

Chapter 4: Gestation

Chapter 5: Labor

Chapter 6: Transition

Chapter 7: Birth

Chapter 8: Beginning

One-shots

Postpartum

Firsts - Bath

Firsts - Laugh

Firsts - Crawl

Firsts - Colic

#the last of us #fanfic #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader

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misstokyo7love · 1 month ago

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Only Pedro Pascal manages to make chewing bubblegum sexy.

GIF made by me

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misstokyo7love · 1 month ago

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💔 but beautifully written

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔

some bad scribbles that break our hearts. should i apologize?

triangle. l Frankie “Catfish” Morales

short dress. l Javier Peña

superhero. l Joel Miller

resignation letter. l Javi Gutierrez

casual. l Marcus Moreno

more soon

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#frankie morales #joel miller #javier gutierrez #marcus moreno #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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My romantic heart is happy

thinking about friends to lovers frankie (under cut, hint at nsfw so 18+ only)

frankie who has been the friend you had grown up with, who would study in your room, a pen between his teeth as he sat up against the headboard while you lay on your stomach at the bottom of your bed, reading flash cards to one another before the big test tomorrow

frankie who had scaled up a tree and into your bedroom after you had gone through your first bad break-up, falling asleep on the floor by your side before sneaking out again in the morning

frankie who would call you every other day while you were both off at college, who would go quiet when you mentioned a date you were going on the same way you did when he said he was bringing a girl home for christmas

frankie who has been the young boy with big, brown eyes and a missing tooth who had shared his snacks with you, who had been the angsty teenager you snuck out with to go to concerts, who was the twenty-something year old man who grew into himself - becoming quiet and self-assured, who made brothers in the army, who travelled the world and always brought you something in return

then there was frankie of his thirties, retired and moving to the town you had just relocated to with a new job and the end of a long term relationship

soon friday night drinks became friday night dinners, sometimes a movie on the sofa, sometimes falling asleep with your head resting against his shoulder or that one time he held you against his chest with your head tucked under his chin

sunday farmer markets. saturday hikes. wednesday lunch breaks together. tuesday morning coffees.

a night washing dishes in your kitchen side by side, the radio on and your reflection in the mirror. if you paid attention you could see the six year olds who became best friends blinking back at you, his mischievous smile as he splashes water on your cheek and your bitten back one when you slap is arm with the dish towel

but then you blink and he's looking back at you, too. thirty-six, in love with your best friend for... who knows how long it's been. maybe forever in some sense.

a kiss. a back pressed against the wall and hands fumbling for buttons and zips. gasps and moans. a tear slipping down the cheek because why did you waste all those years not doing this, one frankie brushes away and says he doesn't regret it at all because he had you closer than anyone else for thirty years.

and families and friends who would repeat their own version of "about damn, time", frankie's eyes meeting yours every time as his hand squeezes your own

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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❛ don’t mind me. just enjoying the view. ❜ — with Javier Peña if you please? 👀💙

oh i do please 😏 (also i'm SO SORRY this took forever) ((and got so long????? idk don't look at me))

warnings: smut-ish, sub-ish!javi, admiring how good javi looks naked (i think that's it lol)

He looked so good like this.

Sat up against the headboard, legs spread, his whole body flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat, his thick cock hard and dripping onto his fingers that were wrapped around his base.

You had come into the bedroom immediately after coming home from work, and were taken aback when your eyes fell to Javier on the bed. He didn't seem embarrassed, and he didn't move a muscle except for stopping his hands' movement over his cock.

You smiled and dropped your bag to the ground, slowly stepping toward the foot of the bed to face Javier. You could see him tense a bit, sitting up a little more and removing his hand from his dick.

Your eyes trailed over his body and you admired every inch of the man in front of you, feeling the pulse of your heart travel south to sit between your thighs. He was breathtakingly gorgeous, and while he was seemingly frozen under your gaze, you were going to take your time appreciating him.

Javi seemed to tense under your gaze, however loving and lustful, straightening his back and bending his knees to try and hide his pulsing cock. You pouted a little at the obstructed view, your eyes then flicking up to his.

"Say something, you're making me nervous," Javi breathed out, a soft chuckle behind his words.

You smiled and stepped closer to the bed, leaning over it with your hands resting on the sheets. You dropped your eyes and ran them up the length of his body again, stopping as briefly as you could at his cock, still aching, resting against his thigh.

You shrugged and gave him a small smirk. "Don't mind me, just enjoying the view."

"Come enjoy it from up close, baby." Javier smiled and lifted a hand, beckoning you forward with two fingers. As you crawled toward him, you kept your eyes locked on his blown-out pupils and smiled wider.

You made your way up his body and settled yourself in his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck while his rested around your waist with his hands gripping your ass.

You both leaned in for a soft kiss, though it became intensely heated within seconds. Javier's mouth was eager against yours as he pulled your body in as close as he could against his, lifting his hips to chase the warmth of your core through your work pants.

You hummed and sat up on your knees, leaning your forehead against Javi's and shaking your head. You ran a hand through the hair on the back of his head and tugged on it a little, bringing a quiet whimper from him. His eyes widened and you could see him swallow hard.

"You take what I give you, okay baby?" you told him, voice firm but soft. Javier nodded and squeezed the thick flesh of your ass to show he was sorry. You smiled and gave him a light kiss on his lips, beginning a trail down his jaw and neck.

Javier moaned and let his eyes slip shut, his hands sliding from your ass to your thighs and squeezing there. Your mouth made its way back up to his lips and pressed one last kiss there before you pulled back and looked at Javi again, telling him to open his eyes.

He did as you asked and tilted his chin up to look at you again, eagerly awaiting what you were going to say or do. You couldn't help but melt at the want written all over his expression as heat flooded your entire body.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" you whispered, Javi barely waiting for you to finish speaking before nodding confidently at you. His eyes had softened minimally, but the heat behind his gaze still remained.

You leaned back in to kiss him again, thoughts racing through your mind on how exactly to make him show you just how yours he was.

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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WOW - this is so sensual 😚 I love it

The Everything Shower

pairing: javier peña x reader

rating: 18+ (mdni!)

word count: 4.5k (oops)

warnings: it’s fluff guys! we’re giving javi what he deserves! soft!javi, sub!javi if you squint, s3 javi’s stress levels come with their own warning, alcohol consumption, implied smut (the smut happens off-screen but there’s definitely smutty language), reader follows a skincare routine including the removal of make up (that can be as much or as little as you want), reader is able to shave legs on their own and has hair 'long enough to be secured away from their face' but is otherwise (i believe) a blank slate, Feelings™️, secret relationship vibes bc i’m a sucker for it, no use of y/n, all mistakes are my own.

summary: javi stops by just as you’re about to start your 'everything' shower.

a/n: AAAHHHHHH!!!!!! i’m very scared so i’m just going to say my thank yous and run! a huge thank you to @almostfoxglove for the absolutely beautiful mood board which finally kicked my arse into gear and got me posting. i must thank @jolapeno who not only put up with my thoughts on this, but encouraged me with her whole chest to turn my silly little ask that i left in her inbox into a fully-fledged thing (i still can’t believe it), and who constantly hyped me up even though she’s so busy studying just now! without her there would be no this. biiig thank you also to @macfrog who offered me so much advice and support, and was always so kind and willing to help when i asked (read: annoyed) her about literally anything to do with Being A Writer! thank you for being my cheerleader! 🩵

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You’re placing your glass of wine down on your bathroom counter when the doorbell sounds through the apartment. Frowning at your reflection, you deliberate on whether to answer it, only minutes away from finally removing your makeup and stepping into the shower to wash the long day away. The soft flicker of the candles lit around the bathroom lull you towards ignoring it, and you sigh as you raise the glass to take another sip. Just as the glass touches your lips, the chime sounds again, obnoxious, cutting through your calm, and you huff, swallowing down a large gulp before grabbing your silk robe, tossing it on over your underwear in your rush to the door.

Raising to your tiptoes to reach the peephole, you spy Javi on the other side of your door, your frown deepening. Given everything going on in the office, you hadn’t planned on seeing him tonight. In fact, he had worked solidly through the weekend, to the point where you had resigned yourself to only sharing a few glances at work in between catching up on the fallout from the most recent, miserably failed, op. You wince as you take him in; slowly beginning to slump to his side to lean on the doorframe as he brings a hand up to rub at his eyes, pinch the bridge of his nose, dig his knuckles into the spot on his forehead you know feels tighter the more stressed he gets. He looks exhausted, you note, but a small smile reaches your lips at the sight of him despite it all. He came to you. Quickly, you pull the door open and usher him inside, holding your robe closed as the colder air hits your chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, closing and locking the door before turning towards him. “I thought you were-”

He moves like lightning towards you, cradling your face in one hand as he leans down to latch his lips to yours. His other hand moves gently from your hip to the small of your back, slowly settling his palm there to keep you against him. You sigh into his mouth and reach up to drape your arms around his neck, melting further into him when you feel his shoulders drop a little.

“Just missed you,” he mumbles against your lips, leaving a sweet kiss there, “Needed to see you.”

You feel him relax little by little, as if the tension he holds in his very bones is seeping out through his skin the longer he’s in your presence. You preen at the thought.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask quietly against his lips, staying in his embrace as your hands rest in his hair, gently scratching against his scalp.

“Mm,” he moans quietly, in affirmation to both the question and your movement, seeming to enjoy the act. His eyes slip briefly closed at your touch, leaving you smiling softly. He pecks your lips one more time and moves away with some effort, stepping towards the kitchen. “What are you drinking?” he asks, clearing his throat and blinking away the haze as he reaches for the whisky you had bought specifically with him in mind.

“I’ve got wine in the bathroom,” you reply, pointing in the general direction and watching as he frowns, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“And,” he pauses to take a long sip, loosening the tie around his neck as he does so. Your eyes track the movement, tongue darting out to lick at your bottom lip, “Why is your wine in the bathroom?” His eyebrow quirks as he takes another sip, eyes not leaving yours.

“I was…” you trail off with a grimace, realising that although you and Javi had been doing this for a while now, and although you know he knows that a lot tends to go into the general upkeep of appearances, he still hadn’t been privy to those various routines. Of course, he wasn’t new to grooming routines in any sense (the man’s moustache alone was proof of that), but something about revealing these processes felt like another step towards vulnerable, intimate – more so than the amount of times you’d fucked in the last three or four months. “I was just about to start my everything shower.” You shrug; you don’t think he’d want to wait around for the best part of an hour for you, but maybe he’d take that time to eat or to rest if you forced him to – he would deny it until he was blue in the face, but that man fucking needed the break.

He's quiet for a moment, as if weighing his response, then you see the cogs turning and watch as he decides on his answer; “What’s an everything shower and how can I be part of it?” he begins to smirk as he refills his glass.

It’s your turn to weigh your options, but it takes you next to no time at all to decide, quickly squashing down that hesitancy of being too domestic, intimate, vulnerable. You roll your eyes with a smile as you reach for his hand, linking your fingers with his as you pull him down the hallway. Of course his mind would go straight there, but you couldn’t blame him – the shower had been one of the first places he had fucked you.

Javi is perched on the edge of the closed toilet seat. His suit jacket is off and abandoned over the chair in your bedroom, along with his shoes and tie. The sleeves of his white shirt are bunched up to his elbows and his top few buttons are undone. You glance at him through the mirror, and can’t help but think that he already looks so much more relaxed than he did when you spied him through the peephole almost an hour ago now. As your eyes rove over his dishevelled hair, you think that the 40-minute make-out session in your room had a lot to do with that, too. He catches your eye and winks at you through the mirror, making your cheeks heat and your eyes shift away to the counter in front of you as you grab your makeup remover.

“So, what does an everything shower involve?” he asks now that he’s probably realising he’s got no idea what he’s in for.

“You’re a smart man, Javi,” you smile gently as you begin to wipe your face clean and gesture to the counter in front of you with your other hand. You watch as his eyes track your movement, landing on the array of liquids and lotions there. “What do you think it is?”

“I think it seems like an awful lot of fuss,” he grumbles, frowning as he does so. Your eyes are drawn to the deep line between his eyes again, the one that sometimes makes it look like he’s in pain. “Surely it all does the same-”

“Please don’t offend me by finishing that sentence.” You turn to face him fully now, leaning a hip against the counter. He straightens as you face him, listening intently to your next words, as if he can sense they’re important to you. “I can see why you’d think that, and maybe you're right about at least some of it, but it’s such a good way to destress and relax a little.” You nod your head towards the several candles that are lighting the bathroom alongside the backlight from the mirror to set the relaxing atmosphere you always aimed for. “You could tell me everything on this counter was made with the same ingredients, hell, that they came out of the same batch, but you can bet your ass I’d still follow my self-care Sunday routine to a tee.”

He had started to smile tenderly at you, eyes softening around the edges, as you ranted with no real heat in your voice about your self-care. He blinked when you were silent, as if rousing himself from a trance, and quirked an eyebrow at you. “Baby, it’s Tuesday.”

“Yes,” you huff, quickly turning back to the counter and unscrewing the lid from a clay face mask. Your eyes cut to him in the mirror once more, “But someone had his department running ragged this weekend.” You watch as he winces, likely remembering the very public dressing-down he gave most of his department in the office on Saturday morning. The embassy bosses hauled almost every department in on the weekend following the botched operation, and Javi had been under so much pressure that he snapped, leading to his entire department running themselves into the ground to try and make up for the mistake. That had seemed to have had a knock-on effect for your department, and had meant you worked what felt like the equivalent of a full working week over the space of three days. Your eyes soften as he worries his lip between his teeth. “Not important. I was too tired to do it on Sunday, so tonight it is.”

He's quiet as his curious eyes trail your movements for a while, ever the observer. You can tell he’s still in his head a little about your mention of the weekend. The near miss had left him and his agents more than a little deflated, and your guilt only worsens as you watch the hand holding his glass raise to his head, thumb rubbing along that sore spot on his forehead again. Just as you take a breath to apologise for bringing it up, he speaks.

“So what is this?” He’s sitting forward, trying to get a better look at the jar in your hand, placing his whisky on the edge of the counter. You glance down as you scoop a generous amount of the clay into your fingers and start to spread it on your face, apology set aside for now.

“It’s a clay mask,” you tell him softly, quietly, keeping your voice steady and relaxed. “It helps to draw out oils and impurities, and also helps to close your pores.” When you finish explaining you turn to face him again, still with an excess of the clay in your hands. Without thinking too much about it, you stretch your fingers out and swipe some down his nose. He looks surprised and then he closes his eyes, tilting his head back a little.

Unsure, you hover close by him. Does he want you to put a face mask on him? He had mentioned joining you, but really you thought he was joking, that he just wanted to watch you. Again you’re struck by that thought from earlier; this feels infinitely more personal than anything you’ve ever done before. You’re quiet for too long, and you jump when Javi says your name quietly. Your eyes shoot to him; his head is still tilted back but he’s squinting one eye open and is looking towards you. “Thought you said I could be part of your everything shower?”

It was all the confirmation you needed. You stepped towards him and he spread his thighs further apart for you to slot yourself between them, his large hands coming round to settle on the backs of your thighs. Your breath hitches, a small quirk of his lips the only indicator that he heard you. You begin gently spreading the clay over his cheeks, nose and chin, making sure the layer is even before moving to his forehead. You slow down here, movements gentle as you massage the clay into his warm skin, soothing his stress marks as you go. You watch, almost in awe, as the creases disappear the more he relaxes into your touch. He’s so soft like this, you can’t help but admire as his breathing levels out, and eventually, regrettably, you have to finish up.

With his eyes still closed you lean down and leave a careful peck on his lips, whispering against them, “All done.”

“What now?” he murmurs after a few moments, his thumbs now rubbing small, gentle circles into your skin. He hasn’t moved his head from the position it’s been tilted back in, and his voice stays low and steady. You bite your lip, knowing that not many people will have seen this side of Javier Peña here in Colombia, if at all. It fills you with warmth, knowing that he trusts you enough to be this vulnerable, to allow you to see him in this way.

The last time he had stayed the night, he had been so exhausted that, after he had fucked you and made you come three times, he confessed in a half-asleep sort of mumble that you made him feel safe. He made no mention of it again so you stuffed it deep down, believing it was a moment meant for his dreams. But your heart hammered as you watched him relax in real time and you thought maybe it could be true for him after all. His breathing had evened out, and you’re sure that if you reached your palm towards his warm chest, slipped your fingers just beneath his shirt, you’d feel his heartbeat steady and slower.

You cleared your throat, reaching behind you for another larger jar, loathe to break the moment; “Next is this.”

Finally he opens his eyes and his gaze lands first on the jar, then you as you stand – he almost looks ten years younger. “What’s this?”

“It’s a hair mask. You put it through your hair and let it soak in before you wash it out. Leaves it in good condition and feeling really soft.”

He nods as you finish speaking, raising a hand to gently twist a strand of your hair, humming softly as he twirls the soft ends through his fingers. “I do love how soft your hair is…” His voice is so quiet that, had you not been watching his lips move, you might have missed it. Your heart hammers again at his words, and you only release the breath you were holding when he lets the strand of your hair drop, closing his eyes, gently tilting his head back – moment broken. “And if it makes my hair smell like yours, I’m all for it.”

You smile at him even though he can’t see you, and twist open the lid, gathering enough product to comb through the ends of your hair. As you worked, you became aware of Javi sneaking glances at you through the mirror when he thought you couldn’t see him and you fought a grin, letting him have the win. You finish quickly, securing your hair away from your face before turning to face him again, tapping his knees so he can bring them closer together. A thought hits you as you are about to sit down and you stop, landing a quick kiss to the crown of his head as you turn to grab the small bottle of scalp oil for this extra step, more for his stress than for his aesthetic. You straddle his knees and slowly lower yourself to sit in his lap, using his broad shoulders to steady you as his hands settle on your waist.

“Is this part of the everything shower experience?” he tilts his head forward to smirk at you and you breathe out a laugh, using the stopper to drop some oil onto his head.

“Never shared my everything shower experience with anyone before, so I couldn’t say,” you muse, placing the bottle out of reach and bringing the tips of your fingers to his head, beginning to massage the oil into his scalp. You use a firm pressure but are still gentle in your touch as you run your fingertips over the crown of his head, down the sides of his temples and around the back of his skull. He releases a groan from deep in his chest, one you’re not so sure he even wanted to emit, and his head tips forward slightly.

“So good t’me," he breathes, and you’re not sure he even realises what he’s saying. “I’ve never felt anything better than this, hermosa,” his voice cracks quietly, and he groans once again as you pass over a particularly sensitive spot.

Despite your shock at his admission, you smirk, speaking quietly so as not to disturb his new-found bliss, “I’m sure that��s not true.” Your fingers rake through the hair at his hairline, being careful to miss the mask still setting on his face. As you go, you grab handfuls of his hair and gently tug his head up to look straight at you again. “I’ll need to remind you of some things that feel way better than this.”

You finalise your whispered statement with a kiss pressed to his lips that has a whine escaping his throat. You can’t help but find yourself loving this new-found sense of elation at helping Javier Peña relax, a feat that no one on this planet has managed to master so far. Shifting to grab the hair mask and run it through the ends of his hair, you smirk as you feel his arms snake tighter around your waist and pull you towards him, grinding you down onto his hardening cock.

“Promise?” his voice is low as he mouths wet kisses against your throat and you moan into the quiet room.

Half an hour later, you’re perched on the side of the bathtub with your legs propped up on the opposite side, still feeling slightly wobbly following the orgasm Javi had pulled from you by grinding you into his still-clothed thigh. You had marvelled at his show of strength when, rather than allow you to tug his pants from his waist to return the favour, he had smiled softly at you, eyes crinkling at the edges, kissed you gently, and asked when you should be washing off the facemasks.

Faces freshly cleaned, Javi had lifted you onto the counter and peppered kisses on every part of your face and neck he could reach, seeming so much more energised following his scalp massage. He’d then grabbed both of your glasses, refilling your drinks and, upon return, had discovered you exfoliating your legs.

“What on earth is that?”

“An African net sponge.”

“Okay, but what does it do?”

“Exfoliates your skin.”

“…what’s that?”

That had led to him watching you use the netted material on your legs and listening as you explained the benefits of exfoliating once or twice a week. When he pieced together that this step was the reason why your skin was so soft for him, he took over scrubbing your shins for you, and helped you spread a thin layer of shaving foam over your legs. As you admired him working, the intimacy of the moment again crossed your mind, but you noted somewhere in the back of your mind that your heart wasn’t hammering quite so fast now. When you asked him to pass you your razor, he did so without hesitation and a comfortable silence filled the space as you took a sip of wine and began the careful process.

“So, if the office rumours are to be believed-” you spoke as you dragged the razor up along your shin, glancing sideways to clock his reaction, “-Agent Van Ness is sleeping with one of the girls in the records department?”

Javi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at your revelation before diving into a gossip session about some of the office politics. That particular morsel had been news to him, and he wrung you dry for all of the information you had on it. You barely raised your gaze from your task, too afraid of the dreaded sting of a razor cut, but you grinned as Javi rambled on, thinking how nice it was to see this side of him. He probably never cared for office gossip after being it for so long when he first took on the role of attaché, but catching this glimpse of him had you feeling that warm, fuzzy feeling again.

Without interrupting him, you stood in the tub when you were finished and switched the shower on before beckoning him forward to undress him. He took the hint and quickly stripped, joining you as you removed your underwear and stepped under the warm spray. He allowed you to carefully exfoliate every inch of him, working meticulously and leaving a smattering of kisses along his warm skin to ease the roughness of the material as you went. After exfoliating him to within an inch of his life, you grinned as you watched him run his fingertips over his own arms, a pang in your chest ricocheting as you caught the small, awed smile slowly spreading across his face. He insisted on exfoliating the rest of your body, followed by him choosing his favourite body wash scent and lathering both of you with it, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling deeply almost as soon as it was rinsed away.

“This is my favourite smell in the whole world,” he whispered against your neck. You both were still, sharing another moment of complete calm this evening, more intimate than anything you had shared before now, with hands and fingertips slowly roaming, softly caressing, kisses littering skin and fuelling fires behind your bellies as his fingers danced lower and lower.

“Think I have it beat,” you croak out, ignoring the flame licking through you and walking him backwards under the shower's stream again, using the hot water spraying in your hands to massage the hair mask into his scalp and rid him of the product.

“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he starts to nip at the skin along your pulse point after you press down on that sensitive spot near the back of his head. “What could possibly beat the smell of your body wash?”

You smirk as you continue to wash out his hair, speaking softly into the shell of his ear; “The smell of my body wash on you.”

You feel him growl against your neck before he’s pushing you up against the shower wall, making a small, surprised yelp fall from your lips. He presses his leg between yours, using it to keep you upright as he finally lets go of the Herculean strength he’s been displaying so far, and fucks you into the shower wall, just like that first time.

When you eventually left the shower, both pruning but sated, you had spent time moisturising your bodies. Javi was particularly enamoured by this final step, loving how soft your skin felt under his touch. After dressing in your sleep shorts and tank top, you had left him to quickly dry your hair and fill up some glasses with water. You returned to your room some time later to find Javi already under your sheets, and took a moment to admire him there. The white sheets were pulled up against the tanned skin of his waist, chest on display as he massaged a spot on his forearm, throwing a lazy smile your way as you placed the water down.

“You okay?” You asked, climbing into bed beside him and shuffling closer into his open arms.

“I can’t believe how soft my skin feels,” he speaks quietly into your hairline as he presses a couple of kisses there. Your soft giggle has him smiling against your head. “Is this how good you feel going to sleep every Sunday?”

Snuggling deeper and laying flatter against the mattress, you sigh contentedly against his chest, softly running your fingers along his freshly exfoliated and moisturised skin. “Yeah, pretty much. Feels a whole lot nicer with you, though,” you admit quietly, stilling your hand to lie flat on his chest and listening to his heartbeat under your ear.

“Baby…” He shifts slightly, tilting your chin towards him, taking a moment to stare into your eyes. You do the same, falling deep into those beautiful doe eyes. This was not how you saw your Tuesday night going – you hadn’t anticipated the levels of intimacy or tenderness, nor the swell of emotions you were currently feeling for the agent in your bed. You had crossed a line tonight, something that left you more hopeful than nervous. You were sure you could see the same in Javi’s eyes as he slowly leant down to kiss you, leaving you breathless.

You pull away suddenly, using his chest to push yourself up to look at him properly as a thought from before flashes into your mind; “I’m sorry about earlier.”

He frowns, that line appearing again between his brows and you immediately reach up to run your fingers along it, to soften it. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, the weekend. It’s no one’s fault, certainly not yours. I saw you get into your head about it and I shouldn’t have tried to tease, I didn’t mean to make you-”

“It’s fine,” he’s quick to quiet you, pecking your lips. “Really. I’ve been doing this long enough to know not everything’s going to go right. And honestly, I’d rather you tease – I’d prefer it, actually,” he smiles. “I wasn’t in my head because of what you said. It’s just hard to remember to switch off most of the time. I’m okay, I promise. Even more so after tonight. Thank you.”

You hold his gaze for another moment, searching, and find that he’s telling you the truth. You lie back against him, pressing a kiss to his chest as you both settle down. “You shouldn’t be the one thanking me, it should be your team.” He laughs loudly at that and you smile, spurred on. “Just remember how relaxed you feel just now when you start to feel that stress creeping in tomorrow.”

“Yeah, when you hear me shouting just picture me with that face mask on,” he squeezes you tighter and you smile. You will cast your mind back to that, you think, the epitome of relaxed. “And if I manage to reign in the stress monster tomorrow, I might have to hand it to you about this everything shower experience.”

“It can take up a big part of your evening,” you close your eyes, listening to his even breaths, “And sometimes I can’t be bothered doing it. But I have to admit, I do feel calmer and more at peace after I take that bit of time for me, y’know?” His fingers crept over your skin, softly drawing circles and patterns where he can reach. You suddenly felt the tiredness deep in your bones and you sighed as you felt Javi’s other hand start to play with strands of your hair. “You should-” You hesitate, but the steady beat of his heart in his chest and the soft kiss to your temple pushes you to continue, “You should think about doing something like that every once in a while. Have your own self-care Sunday.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, but you don’t feel so scared about it. That line that you crossed? He had crossed it too, you knew that now, and without any thought, discussion or hesitation from either of you. You still feel his fingers dancing along, but his movements get slower and heavier, as if they’re lulling him to sleep. Your eyes are drooping closed by the time he replies, sounding peaceful, words slurring due to his exhaustion.

“Don’ need my own. From now on ’m crashin’ yours.”

thanks for reading!

np tags to some moots who may be interested (and if you’re not i shall remove you right away!): @burntheedges @hellishjoel @mrsmando @sugarcoated-lame @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @its-dee-lovely @msjarvis @chronically-ghosted

#javier pena x reader #narcos #fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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Damn

insp

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedropascaledit #baby cow eyes #dilfgifs

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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Where do I sign up for this?

DATING: Dieter Bravo aesthetic

comes with hungovers; Oscar parties and private jets

PROS: he is ready to have sex anytime; finds the best weed wherever he goes; remembers your special dates like when you first let him fuck your ass and gives you inappropriate gifts in public like it’s nothing

CONS: he wants to have sex all the time; ODs every other week; doesn’t do exclusive relationships but expects you to be only his (he will not return the favor)

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo x you

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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Very cool interview! I love how Lena is teasing him 😉 I would do that too

Pedro Pascal and Lena Headey

Head to head interview

Hunger Magazine, Issue 6. Released December 28, 2014. Photoshoot October 15, 2013.

Thirteen million. That's the number of people, on average, who tuned into each episode of the third season of Game of Thrones. Among them was Chilean actor Pedro Pascal, who was as enthralled by the sex and slaughter as the rest of us. But little did he know that within a few months he'd be pitching up on the shores of Belfast to join the cast as Oberyn Martell, affectionately known as the Red Viper. Sound ominous? It is. The Red Viper is GoTs newest anti-hero, “sexy and charming but driven by hate”. Sounds like he'll be right at home.

Pedro, on the other hand, though he looks good on paper, wasn't the obvious choice for the role. Expecting a big name to ride into King’s Landing, the show's fans took to forums to express their concerns as soon as the news broke. So is he worried? Like hell he is. “The fans had the part cast in their minds already. They knew who they wanted and it certainly was not me. But I'm not stupid, | presumed that people were going to say ‘who the fuck is this guy’. Since I anticipated the reaction it didn't throw me off.”

“There are so many different ways to go into battle with yourself when you're trying to get a job. I felt a certain amount of pressure because I wanted to make everyone happy. The fan base is so specific and, as a fan myself, I understand the relationship that they have with the show. The Red Viper is the best part I've ever played, and in season four shocks come at the most unexpected times. You might think you know, but you have no idea,” he explains.

Looks like the Red Viper could be in line to fill a Walter-White-sized-hole in television, but to test the theory we pit Pascal against Lena Headey, aka the Queen. Because if you can come away from Cersei unscathed, you can handle anything.

LH: So, Pedro, you come into Game of Thrones in season four, playing a pretty major character. Does that fill you with joy or dread?

PP: I'd say it fills me with joy because it’s a really fucking fun part. He’s a badass. He comes up against a lot of the main characters in the show. I'm very aware of the show. I watch it like a fan.

LH: Were you a fan before you arrived in Belfast?

PP: Yeah, I was a proper fan. I was caught up in the drama of it before I even auditioned for the part. I was already up to speed.

LH: I remember meeting you and thinking, “he fucking loves the show’.

PP: I kissed your ass.

LH: Well, it worked. We're friends now.

PP: I was like a tourist visiting the set, and yet I had to act with you and be in a scene with the characters that I had such a specific association with already.

LH: So you’re saying it’s boring?

PP: No, it wasn’t boring at all. It was extremely, relentlessly surreal.

LH: And who were your favourite characters up until that point?

PP: Not you.

LH: I realise that!

PP: There are too many characters to have a favourite, but I was fascinated by the Lannisters because they're so frightening. They scared me and then you would come in and pull sympathy from your audience somehow, and I found that rather fascinating. The Northerners were so easy to like or get behind, but it was quite something to see people sympathise with a Lannister, after you made people see things from their perspective.

LH: Speaking of being slightly ambiguous as a character, you come in as a major player and a very well-loved character in the eyes of people who read the books, and he’s somewhat of an anti-hero. Did you base him on anyone?

PP: What does an anti-hero mean exactly?

LH: It means he doesn't wear deodorant, doesn't it? [Laughs]. Someone you shouldn't champion, but you do, like Walter White in Breaking Bad.

PP: No, | didn’t really base him on anyone.

LH: Did you take anything from classic movies that you thought you could use and spin to your advantage playing the Red Viper?

PP: God, that’s a good question. I probably did subconsciously. Now I feel under the spotlight because I need to think of somebody, and I have so many in my mind! I think that’s something that is happening a lot in TV today: the anti-heroes are central to these television shows, and people are really getting behind them, even though they're not necessarily the most moral characters. So I'd say that ‘ve become more familiar with the character who's obviously very flawed but gets you on their side — you have complicated feelings about them. But I think I saw the story too much from this character's perspective to perceive any flaws.

LH: He has some.

PP: I know, from the outside. But I don't see any of them. What are his flaws?

LH: His flaws? He's a dirty bastard!

PP: Why is he a dirty bastard? He likes to fucking fight, for sure.

LH: Back to you as an actor. You've done it for a long time and, as we all know, the path is not always golden, and sometimes you think, “fuck it” and you want to leave it and do something else. Have there been moments where you wanted to give up?

PP: Yes, there have been moments where I came very close to giving up. But I never had anything to fall back on. I think you can understand that.

LH: Because were stupid?

PP: We're stupid.

LH: I can't even make pizza!

PP: We don’t have any other skills.

LH: None at all!

PP: And that’s the odd conundrum. You get to a point where you think, “This isn’t going to happen. This isn’t sustainable. I'm too exhausted, and it can't be good for me.” There were moments where I truly did try to formulate an idea of what I'd do. I thought I'd go back to school, start pre-med again and go to medical school or something like that.

LH: But that didn't happen, you just thought about it?

PP: Yes, I'd have thoughts, but it was still fantasy really. But at the time it felt like a practical life plan. Do you know what I mean?

LH: Yeah of course, you need to pay the fucking rent.

PP: Exactly. You just try to escape from the chaos of what you're feeling by trying to create order in your life. Order seems like a solution to save you from the pain of acting!

LH: It's a mental pain. Who was the first person you called when you got the role?

PP: My sister.

LH: Does she watch the show?

PP: Yes, she does.

LH: Pedro Pascal... or Pablo as I called you when I had too much wine, which was deeply insulting.

PP: Even family members have done that to me! Do I look more like a Pablo? Because it happens with about ninety-five percent of the people I meet.

LH: No, I think I’m just an ignorant drunk person.

PP: No, you were an ignorant drunk person that night is what you're saying.

LH: And now I’m educated.

PP: [Whispers] But | want you to call me Pablo.

LH: Ok, Pablo! When you first arrived on set in Northern Ireland, what was your feeling showing up to a bunch of British actors? Did it feel different to doing an American project?

PP: Yes, but I loved it. It wasn’t intimidating. I found it surreal because I’d watched and loved the show. I hadn't had the opportunity to work on something that I was really familiar with before, so it was overwhelming. But it was far more delightful than intimidating. Also you guys were really cool. Everyone was friendly.

LH: Oh, that’s just fake.

PP: Well, you guys were good at it!

LH: We know Game of Thrones is very popular obviously. Do you have any thoughts, or fears, about what this is going to bring you in terms of exposure?

PP: I have hope.

LH: Oh, God. I don’t mean to shatter that, but give it up.

PP: I don’t know really. It’s all been filmed, and now I'm back to my normal routine, so I haven't really thought about it. I remember when we finished filming and we were on our way to the airport, you asked me, “How does it feel you're all done?” and I couldn't really answer.

LH: You were quite emotional that day.

PP: I was very emotional because I’d had such an amazing time doing the part. Also just being there immersed in the experience... You described it to me best. You told me how I'd be feeling.

LH: We don't know your character's backstory when you enter the show, and you have some rather brutal scenes. Anyone who has read the books will know what I’m talking about.

PP: My character comes in, he stirs a bunch of shit up, and then he makes this fucking enormous exit. Now can | ask you a question?

LH: What is it? I’m not going to sleep with you. Give it up.

PP: Oh, come on! This has gone to shit and it’s your fault, so good luck to whoever has to edit it! But anyway, sometimes I'd hang out with the cast members and we'd go to dinner and they would get stopped constantly. There was no denying who they played because they were so recognisable, but you got away with it because you have this beautiful blonde wig on in the show, and in real life you are...

LH: Grey?

PP: {Laughs] No! You have beautiful chestnut hair! Is it liberating to not be recognised the way some of the other cast members are?

LH: Yes, it is liberating.

PP: Liberating being able to walk down an alley in Dubrovnik without being stopped?

LH: Yes, except sometimes | get recognised in the weirdest places. A woman was emptying my bag at Heathrow Airport's security gates and just went, “Are you the Queen?” while rummaging through my underwear. It was so fucking weird.

PP: It seems they're more respectful to you?

LH: Because they're frightened. Wait until they meet the Viper.

PP: Well, that covers it.

LH: I think we're going to get our own show out of this, you know

youtube

Interested in learning more about Pedro? Check out Pedro Pascal Unofficial on Pinterest!

#pedro pascal #lena headey #hunger magazine #game of thrones #prince oberyn #oberyn #oberyn martell

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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The wonderful little gem made me really emotional. So cute.

Construction Corner Series Masterlist (AU Joel Miller x Female Reader)

Fandom: The Last of Us/Pedro Pascal

Pairing: TVhost!Joel Miller x divorced!Female Reader

Summary: AU where nothing bad happened in 2003. It is now 2007 and Joel Miller is the host of a popular home renovation show. When he discovers that his married producer is now divorced, will sparks fly?

Rating: Eventually Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Inaccuracies about filming a tv show and about construction. Pedro character cameos. Reader is divorced and in her late 30’s, but otherwise a blank slate. Specific warnings provided for each chapter.

Episode 1 - The Gutierrez Family

Episode 2 - Mr. Ben & Miss Jenny

Episode 3 - The Moreno Family

Episode 4 - Marcus & Teresa

Episode 5 - The Peña Family

Epilogue - A Very Special Episode

Main Masterlist

Taglist - follow the link in my bio!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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Good god this is so cute - Sweet Frankie in love

Drunk Text

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Inspired by this post. Tagging my Frankie ladies @queridopascal @heythere-mel

It was those five tequila shots that finally pushed him over the line from happily buzzed to full blown bombed. For weeks he had been helping Benny train for tonight’s fight against an undefeated boxer climbing the local circuits. Undefeated until he went up against Benjamin Miller. The celebration was hard and fast as soon as they stepped into the bar.

It just had to be tonight that your boss asked you to stay late to help finish an important project. You had been looking forward to the thrill of watching Benny fight knowing how hard him and Frankie trained for this. When Frankie called you right after the win, yelling in excitement as he explained how Benny landed the winning hit, you couldn’t stop smiling but you also felt like crying for missing out on this huge moment. He knew how upset you were that you had to miss this so he reassured you that he’d find video of it to show you when he got home. You told him to celebrate for you too and that you’d see him later.

A few hours later, the project was officially finished. Checking the time, you wondered if the guys would still be at the bar because you’d definitely stop there on your way home. Just as the thought popped into your head, your phone vibrated with a text notification from your husband.

My love, I’m intoxicated.

It made you laugh because if Frankie was talking so proper then he definitely had to be drunk.

“Fuck, Pope, she was supposed to be here. I fucking miss her,” Frankie wipes a drunken hand lazily down his face as he looks to his friend.

The amusement is evident on Pope’s face as he slaps his hand to Frankie’s shoulder, “You’ll see her later, brother.”

His face scrunches up in disagreement and dramatically shakes his head, “I want her now. I need her here right this fucking second,” he shoves a finger against the tabletop in emphasis. Then in an awful drunken segue he groans, “I’m so fucking drunk, man.”

“A well-deserved drunk, Fish! You help Benny beat that fuck!” Pope shakes his shoulder in excitement.

Frankie’s eyes disappear when a huge smile fits his face and he nods heavily, “Fuck yeah!” then he shoves his beer bottle against the glass in Pope’s hand so hard that he has to make sure the glass didn’t crack.

“Alright, let me get your sloppy ass a glass of water,” he laughs, “Stay the fuck here. Do not move, got it?” Pope points at him.

“Roger that,” Frank answers and takes a sip of his beer. When Pope walks away, Frankie pulls his phone out of his pocket and blinks his eyes a few times to try to unblurry his vision. Right there as his lockscreen was a picture of you smiling that he had took quickly one mid-morning drive. You’re seated in the passenger seat of his pickup with the window down and the wind blowing in your hair, his aviators sitting on your face.

He stares at it with a goofy smile on his face then manages to unlock his phone to right away open his photo gallery. He feels his eyelids getting heavy, but he still manages to find a recent photo. It was of a different fight night when you all had been hanging out in the parking lot beforehand. Frankie had you wrapped up in his arms from behind as he leaned back against his tailgate. You had managed to sneak a picture of the two of you when he had no idea because in the photo, he had his nose nuzzled in your hair, eyes closed in bliss with the softest smile on his face. And you – you had the cutest, most loving smile on your face as you had a discreet finger pointed in his direction, eyes on the camera. You had texted it to him the next day during the work day with the caption, “Every day I feel like the luckiest woman for the way you love me, Francisco.”

He decides to text you right then. Plans on telling you how much he misses you and loves you. But his alcohol-riddled brain only has him type out “My love, I’m intoxicated” before he goes right back to the picture. He zooms in more on your beautiful face until his own is out of frame and only yours takes up his whole screen.

As you start your car, another text notification comes through. The notification says an image from Santi. Opening it, you can’t help the giggle you let out as your heart swells. There’s your man, cheek resting on his arm on the table and in his other hand is his phone opened to a picture of you, his eyes locked on it.

The accompanying text reads, “Your man is drowning in sorrow over your absence, bonita.”

The smile doesn’t leave your face as you text back, “Tell him that I said I love him. He’ll know what it means.” The lameness of the joke is purely for Santi because you could see him perfectly with a dropped expression and a roll of his eyes at reading your words.

“You know you’re married too long when your jokes are as lame as your husband’s.”

“Don’t be jealous that I got to Frankie before you. You had plenty of years to make your move.”

As soon as Santi reads it, he busts out laughing. You know that Santi loves you like a sister and he’s told you plenty of times before that he never met a more perfect person for his best friend.

Santi taps Frankie’s arm and watches as he lolls his head to the side more to make eye contact.

“Just texted with that girl of yours. She wanted me to pass along to you that she loves you. Said you’d know what it means.”

Frankie lifts his head and his face turns so serious, “She said that?” then he’s closing his eyes in deep thought as he groans before his chin dramatically drops to his chest. When he lifts his head, his eyes are on Santi, “I do fucking know what she means,” he nods repeatedly and Santi wishes he was videoing this moment because it’s so rare for Frankie to be this wasted.

Frankie leans forward as if he’s telling a secret but his voice doesn’t carry that same notion, “It means she fucking loves me, Pope. Her! That beautiful angel of a woman fucking loves me. Tells me all the time too and I’m just like, ‘Me? How?’” Then he shakes his head in disbelief.

Santi grabs his shoulder, “She’d kick your ass if she heard you talking like that about yourself.”

But that makes Frankie chuckle as he sways, “She would. She’s perfect. Where is she?” His head swivels as he tries to spot you in the crowd.

Santi shakes his head with amusement, “She’s home, Fish.”

“Fuck, then I got to get home. I miss my fucking wife,” and Frankie starts swaying as he takes several tries to get his hand in his pocket to try to pull out his wallet to pay.

It’s almost two in the afternoon when Frankie emerges from the bedroom. Seated at the kitchen table with your laptop and a cup of coffee, you almost choke on a sip when Frankie rounds the doorway and enters the room. His hair is sticking up in every direction, he has an old pair of sunglasses on, on his torso is his shirt from last night barely buttoned, all paired with his usual boxer briefs.

“Am I dead?” his voice raspy from both shouting the night before and the lack of use for hours after, “I feel dead.”

You try not to laugh too loud as you stand up and walk over to him, “My poor baby,” you rub the bare portion of his chest, “Did you drink the water and take the aspirin I left for you?”

He nods, “You’re a lifesaver, thank you,” then his arms circle your waist and he drops a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on, sit down,” you move his arms from around you and take his hand to lead him to the kitchen chair where he plops down.

He crosses his arms on the table and drops his forehead to them with a groan of discomfort. You think quick and move to the window to shut the curtains making it darker for him than grab him another glass of cool water and pour him a cup of coffee. As you get them, Frankie’s head lifts up slowly and looks in your direction.

“Was – was there a woman here last night? Before you got home?” he asks slowly and with an uneasiness.

You hide your smile as you’re curious to see if he’ll remember at any point. Over your shoulder, “I was home before you. Santi brought you home.”

Frankie’s brows scrunch behind his sunglasses, “You were? But some woman was trying to get me naked last night…?”

You tried, but you can’t help but laugh as you walk over to place the two drinks down in front of him. When you see him cringe a bit, you cover your mouth and muffle out a ‘Sorry’ before you laugh some more behind your hand.

“What? What is it?” he asks as he grabs your thigh and pulls you closer.

You run your hand through his wild hair which has him practically purring, “Frankie, that wasn’t a stranger, that was me.”

“What? No.”

“Yes, honey,” you giggle, “Santi helped you into the bedroom for me and laid you down on the bed. I took your shoes off and was starting to undo your belt to get your pants off when you kept pushing my hands away.”

Frankie pulls you down onto his lap, “Come on, no way.”

You cup his cheeks and press a soft kiss to his lips, “Yes way. You were so drunk that you thought I was some random person because you kept telling me to stop because you were married. Said how much you love your wife and that you were a one-woman man.”

“Oh fuck,” he drops his head to your shoulder as he chuckles before a cough slips out.

Massaging the back of his scalp, “It was all very sweet, actually. And incredibly funny. Once you did pass out, I succeeded in pulling your pants off. Don’t tell your wife, though,” you tease with a kiss to his hair.

He lets out a gruff laugh before lifting his head, “The only thing I knew last night was that I missed you and you weren’t around,” he nuzzles your neck and leaves a light kiss.

“I know, Santi sent me a picture from the bar of you staring at my picture on your phone,” you laugh quietly and run a finger down his jaw.

Frankie gives you a lopsided grin, “I’m a sucker for my wife.”

“Like I told you last night, she’s a very lucky woman to be married to you.”

He slips his hand under your shirt and rubs your side, “I’m the lucky one. You could have had any guy out there and you chose me.”

When you kiss him, Frankie holds the back of your head as he deepens it. When you finally move apart, you kiss his cupid’s bow before telling him, “Saying yes to a date with you was the best decision I ever made. And saying yes to being your wife was the easiest.”

#frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales x reader #frankie morales

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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Damn you, Javi

PEDRO PASCAL as JAVI GUTIERREZ The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

#javier gutierrez #the unbearable weight of massive talent

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misstokyo7love · 2 months ago

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Joel Miller in a kilt? Ok….

Galway Girl (joel miller x fem!reader)

18+ account - minors do not interact

joel miller x f!reader

Words: 7K Rating: E

Summary: You meet Joel Miller in a chance encounter when checking him in at his hotel in Ireland for his cousin's wedding. As you exchange stories, a web of coincidences binds you in ways neither of you could have anticipated. Is it fate? Or is it merely just coincidence?

or simply... a soulmate au fic

Warning: Smut (18+MDNI), language, alcohol use, sexual tension, mutual pining, flirting, pet names, romcom vibes, fluff (lots of it), intimate smut (it’s soulmate sex y’all), slight nipple play, size kink? (of course joel is huge), fingering, protected p in v sex, praise, fucking softness, wealthy!joel, did I mention fluff?

A/N: This is my submission for the Roll-A-Trope and Trope-Off challenges where I am submitting a soulmate AU for these challenges.

As @punkshort would say: “This is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Ireland movie,”

Thank you for hosting these challenges! @burntheedges and @auteurdelabre

As the plane descended toward Dublin, Joel felt that familiar flutter of anxiety in his stomach. Flying was never his favorite mode of transportation; the sensation of plummeting created an uncomfortable knot he couldn’t shake. He glanced at Sarah, who was glued to her iPad, completely absorbed in a movie, blissfully unaware of his internal turmoil.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, attempting to sound casual. “You doin’ alright?”

Her head bobbed in response, but her focus remained on the screen. Joel sighed softly, a mix of pride and worry welling up inside him. She had become so independent.

Beside him sat Tommy, who couldn't have been more relaxed. He was cracking jokes with fellow passengers, effortlessly charming the ladies in the seats in front of them.

As the wheels touched down, a wave of relief washed over him. “Thank fuckin’ God,” he muttered under his breath, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. Sarah, leaned closer, giving him an encouraging nod, and reached over, her small hand wrapping around his. They had made it safely to Ireland. With the plane taxied and the seatbelt sign turned off, he stood up slowly, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Tommy said, slapping Joel on the back.

Joel chuckled nervously but couldn’t shake the tension as the three of them filed off the plane, navigating the bustling airport. The lively atmosphere buzzed with a mix of accents and different languages.

Once they retrieved their bags and passed through customs—without any hiccups—they made their way to the car rental area. The signs were clear enough, but navigating the crowd felt like herding cats as they dodged fellow travelers and their luggage.

“Stay close, Sarah,” he instructed, instinctively placing a hand on her shoulder. The last thing he wanted was for her to get lost in the throng of people.

“Dad, I’m fine,” she said, rolling her eyes but offering him her killer smile.

Waiting in line for the car rental, Joel suddenly was caught in a whirlwind of thoughts regarding his cousin's wedding, the family reunion, and making sure Sarah had a memorable time. He wanted everything to go smoothly, it was her first time in Ireland.

“Keep an eye on the time, will ya?” Tommy chimed in, tapping his watch. “We don’t want to be late for the rehearsal dinner.

After what felt like an eternity waiting in line, they finally reached the counter. Joel handed over the necessary documents to the attendant, who rattled off the details of their rental car while Tommy continued to joke around with Sarah.

With the car keys in hand, the trio headed out of the airport, and Joel took a deep breath, scanning the lot for their vehicle.

“There it is!” Sarah exclaimed, pointing to an SUV parked a few rows down, her excitement contagious.

Joel followed her gaze, forcing himself to smile. “Alright, let’s get goin’. Galway is bout’ two and a half hours away from here,”

As they loaded their bags into the car, Joel couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude that they'd made it this far without any major issues. He settled into the driver's seat, adjusting the mirrors and the seat to fit him comfortably, while Sarah and Tommy transferred their chatter to the back.

As Joel stepped into the grand foyer of the hotel and estate, a stunning blend of elegance and warmth greeted him. The soft golden light filtered through the ornate windows, illuminating the exquisitely decorated space. It was probably the fanciest place he had ever set foot in.

However, his gaze was instantly drawn to you, the hotel concierge, standing behind the elegant reception desk. He couldn’t help but be captivated by every detail of you.

Holy fuck, you were gorgeous.

Your eyes were mesmerizing. Your full lips formed a soft, inviting smile. The subtle gloss highlighted their shape, making them appear even more alluring. He took in the delicate curve of your jawline. He observed the way your hands moved expressively as you spoke. He admired how your laughter danced in your eyes. Joel’s gaze wandered past your face, taking in the elegance of your posture. The tailored uniform you wore hugged your figure and accentuated your curves. As you leaned slightly forward, he couldn’t help but notice the way your hair caught the light and framed your face like a halo.

It wasn't like Joel had never seen an attractive woman before, but this was different, for reasons he couldn't even begin to define. He simply knew, without question, that you were different.

He probably looked like a complete moron with his mouth gaping like a fish. Tommy, was trying to stifle a chuckle as he caught wind of Joel's noticeable admiration.

Sarah, ever perceptive, nudged Joel with a teasing smile. “Dad, you’ve got your thinking face on,"

“Shush, kid,” Joel replied, a grin creeping onto his face despite himself. He walked up to the desk, determined to shake off the daze. He caught a whiff of the subtle scent of your perfume lingering in the air, a delicate blend of floral and citrus that seemed to draw him closer.

“Hello!” you greeted, your voice smooth and inviting. “Welcome to Glenlo Abbey. How can I assist you today?”

He picked up on the fact that you didn't have an Irish accent, and you actually sounded American.

Joel cleared his throat, trying to shake off the momentary spell you had cast over him. “Hi, I’m Joel Miller. Just checkin' in for the weddin' tomorrow," he said, trying to sound composed even as his heart raced.

“Of course, Mr. Miller,” you replied, your smile broadening as you scanned your computer screen. “We’ve been expecting you. I hope the journey here wasn’t too taxing?”

He swallowed hard, trying to refocus on what you were saying. He could feel the warmth of a blush creeping up his neck as he processed how flustered he was feeling just standing there.

"No need for formalities, Mr. Miller is my father. Please call me Joel."

“Joel,” you repeated, and he loved the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“Uh, yeah. The journey wasn’t too bad,” he finally managed, forcing himself to meet your gaze again.

You printed out the registration details and handed them over. “You’re in rooms 215 and 216. They are cozy suites with a lovely view of the gardens. I think you’ll enjoy it, especially at sunset.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Joel managed to respond.

“Is this your first time in Ireland?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, making him feel like you genuinely cared about his answer.

Joel chuckled softly, feeling a bit more at ease despite the hints of nerves still bubbling under the surface. “No, not my first time. My brother and I grew up comin’ here. Our father’s Irish— he’s from Cork, actually,” he said, offering you a small smile as he leaned against the desk, trying to appear relaxed.

You raised an eyebrow in a playful manner, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Ah, I would have never assumed you were Irish with a last name like Miller. You had me completely fooled.” Your tone dripped with light sarcasm.

Joel couldn’t help but laugh outright at your quip. “Yeah, I guess it’s not the most unique Irish last name, is it?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a grin spreading across his face.

You leaned in slightly, engaging with a genuine curiosity that sent a flutter through him. “And what’s his story? Did he come over to embrace the American life, or was he just on an adventure?”

“Well, it was supposed to be an adventure, at least at first. My dad came to the states on a whim—just lookin' for somethin' new, I guess. But then he met my mom in Texas—she was fiercely independent, and utterly captivatin', or so he tells me. My abuela tried her best to scare him off when he showed up on her doorstep for his first date with my Mamá, but he was hooked… so he stayed in Texas.

You leaned against the desk. “That’s quite the story. Are your parents coming for the wedding, then?”

“Yeah, they landed yesterday. They’re probably already checked in and explorin' the place. Joel chuckled. “I want to make sure my daughter—” he gestured to Sarah, who was wriggling with excitement, “—has a good time. It’s her first time in Ireland,”

“Is that so?” you asked, turning your attention to Sarah. “Well, welcome to Ireland! Any plans while you’re here?”

Sarah perked up, her eyes sparkling. “I want to see all the castles, all the cliffs, and maybe do some hiking!” she exclaimed, clearly excited about the visit.

“Great choices,” you said with enthusiasm. “Well, if you need recommendations, I can provide some lovely places to visit and eat. Just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Joel said, feeling grateful for your kindness towards his daughter.

“Here are your keys,” you said, handing over two small brass keys with an intricate design.

His fingers brushed against yours slightly, and he felt an electric jolt shoot through him. The world around him faded, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you.

“Enjoy your stay, Joel. And don’t hesitate to come back if you have any questions or need assistance with anything. I’ll be here,” you said, your smile making him wish time would pause.

“Thank you,” he breathed your name, and confusion crossed your face. Then, his finger pointed down at your chest, where your name tag was pinned neatly in place. Realization dawned on you, and he could see that you understood that he had been reading your name tag.

Joel turned to leave, eyes lingering on you just a moment longer before his instincts kicked in, urging him to focus on getting ready for the rehearsal dinner. “Alright, let’s go,” he said, beckoning Tommy and Sarah to follow.

As he walked away, he could feel your gaze on him, and he caught himself glancing back over his shoulder, seeing you still there, watching him with that radiant smile.

“Joel,” Tommy called playfully, “I think you forgot to get her number!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned, shaking his head with a grin as the flush crept back to his cheeks. But somewhere in his mind, a little spark ignited, and the flutter of anxiety shifted into a flutter of possibility.

As the early afternoon sun filtered through the delicate curtains of the hotel’s grand foyer, you took a moment to breathe in the fragrant bouquet of fresh flowers that decorated the space. This was the day everyone had been waiting for—the Miller wedding. The excitement in the air was palpable, with staff bustling about, adjusting floral arrangements and finalizing last-minute details. Glenlo Abbey was glowing, ready to host one of the most anticipated events of the season.

The Miller family was a well-known name in Ireland, not just for their reputation but also for their commitment to the community. Their building materials manufacturing company played a significant role in shaping the landscape of many towns across the country. Despite their prominence, they carried themselves with an air of humility. It was an honor for the hotel to host such a notable occasion, and your boss was determined to ensure every detail was perfect.

Yesterday, when you watched Joel walk away, his broad shoulders and casual stride caught your attention. There was something undeniably magnetic about him.

The way he looked at you, as if he could see beyond the surface, sent faint butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You reminded yourself to breathe, forcing yourself to focus on your job. But even as the next guest approached, your thoughts lingered on that moment—his hand brushing against yours, that genuine smile spreading across his face as you bantered back and forth.

“Hello, welcome to Glenlo Abbey!” you greeted the new guests, snapping back to attention. Your mind was still half on Joel.

You made quick work of checking them in, but those brown eyes and his playful tone kept echoing in your mind. There was something disarmingly refreshing about him, especially compared to the types you often encountered in your line of work. Most guests were either grumpy travelers or overly formal, but Joel felt different, a breath of fresh air.

Just then, a familiar laugh broke through the buzz of the lobby, drawing your attention. There he was—Joel—standing near the grand staircase with his brother and his daughter, Sarah. He had traded his casual travel attire for an elegant suit that accentuated his physique. But it was the traditional Scottish kilt that truly caught your eye. The fabric swayed slightly with his movements, complementing his rugged charm and giving him a distinguished air. He looked handsome, effortlessly embodying both sophistication and tradition. The bride was Scottish, and with the Millers being Irish, the wedding was going to have many Celtic wedding traditions and rituals.

Standing beside him was a gorgeous older woman you assumed was his mother, a warm smile on her face as she adjusted a brooch pinned to her elegant dress. His father stood on the opposite side, a proud look in his eyes as he surveyed the lobby filled with anticipatory guests. Joel’s family exuded warmth and togetherness, contrasting the more formal setting of the hotel.

Suddenly, Joel met your gaze, and you felt a jolt of surprise swirl through you. His expression shifted from casual discussion to something more curious, a glimmer of recognition lighting up his brown eyes. He stepped away from his family, making his way toward you with a charming smile that made you forget the rest of the lobby.

“Hey,” He greeted, his voice warm and inviting. “What are the odds I’d run into you again?” he winked at you.

You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden attention as a smile broke across your face. “Well, I work here, so I guess the odds are pretty good,” you replied playfully, leaning against the reception desk. “You clean up nice, Mr. Miller.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes while you chuckled. “What did I tell you bout’ Mr. Miller?”

You rolled your eyes. “You clean up nice, Joel,”

He flashed you an irresistible grin. “Good girl,”

You swallowed a heavy breath and felt your arousal growing between your legs. Jesus fucking Christ.

Joel glanced back at his family, who were busy chatting among themselves, then turned back to you, clearly contemplating. “Actually, after the weddin’ and reception, some of us adults are lookin’ for a good pub to hang out at. Any recommendations?”

A grin spread across your face; you had the perfect place in mind. “You should definitely check out Kelehan's. It's one of my favorite spots. Authentic Irish atmosphere, great music, and the locals are incredible. It’s a good mix of people, and it really embodies the spirit of Galway.”

“Sounds perfect. What do you like most bout’ it?” he asked.

“Well, the drinks are good for a start—can’t go wrong with a pint of Guinness. And if you’re up for it, you might catch some live music. It’s the type of place where you’ll find someone playing traditional tunes, and people often join in for a singalong. It’s such a fun vibe,” you replied.

Joel’s smile widened. “I might just have to take your advice. Are you headin’ there yourself after your shift?” he asked, almost teasingly.

You chuckled softly, realizing that you had unintentionally opened a door. “Well, my friends and I usually hang out there, so… maybe,”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Last question and then I’ll leave you alone sweetheart,”

Sweetheart. You liked that.

You nodded at him and then Joel raised an eyebrow, curiosity shining in his eyes. “So, where's that accent from? 'Cause you definitely don’t sound Irish," he teased.

You chuckled, “Correct,” you said, leaning a bit closer, “I’m Canadian, actually, from Vancouver. But actually my dad—he’s from Texas.”

His eyes lit up. “Texas, huh? What part?”

“Oh, um, just a tiny little town you’ve probably never heard of. Abernathy?” you replied, half-shrugging as you prepared for the usual blank stare that came after mentioning it.

But instead, Joel’s reaction was one of disbelief. He paused, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ as he looked at you with astonishment. “Wait, you’re serious? Abernathy?”

Your brow furrowed. “Yeah, why? Do you know it?”

“Know it? That’s where my Mamá grew up,” he exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise.

“Really?” you asked, your own surprise reflected back at him. “Wow, what are the chances,”

“Yep! Small world, huh?” Joel grinned, clearly delighted by this unexpected connection.

“Tell me about it! I mean, do you even know what’s in Abernathy other than the one BBQ joint?” you laughed, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest at the shared familiarity.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not much. Is your family still back there?”

“Yeah, my dad’s side is still there, mostly. Some of my cousins have moved to bigger cities, but the rest are holding down the fort,” you replied, feeling the conversation ease into something more comfortable and personal.

There was something about the way his brown eyes held your gaze that made time and space begin to dissolve around you.

“I should get goin’, but it was really great seein’ you again. I’m sure I’ll see you later at Kelehan's, right?”

You smiled. “Definitely. I’ll be there after my shift. Just look for the most embarrassed girl in the corner trying to remember the lyrics to ‘Galway Girl’,” you joked.

He laughed warmly, “I’ll hold you to that. And hey, if you put up with my terrible dancin’, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Deal,” you said eagerly, both of you exchanging one last lingering look before he turned back to his family.

The clock struck 11 PM, and the lively atmosphere of Kelehan's Pub was buzzing with laughter and music. The sounds of traditional Irish melodies filled the air, interspersed with the occasional cheers from patrons who had gathered around the bar and tables.

You were seated at a table in the corner with your friends, enjoying a round of drinks. In the midst of your own chatter, you took a moment to survey the pub, the lively energy swirling around you igniting a sense of freedom and fun.

As you sipped your drink, your eyes scanned the crowd, and that’s when you saw him. Joel stood just inside the doorway, framed by the soft lighting of the pub as it illuminated his strong features. He looked even more handsome than you remembered, he had traded in the elegance of the suit and kilt from earlier in the day for a more relaxed outfit. He wore a deep green button-up shirt that hugged his well-defined arms, the sleeves rolled up casually to just below his elbows. Paired with that, he had opted for dark, well-fitted jeans. Surrounding him was a playful gaggle of what you assumed were his cousins, more extended family, friends, and their significant others, all bursting with energy and laughter.

The moment Tommy burst through the door with the bride and groom trailing just behind Joel, he let out an exuberant shout that echoed through Kelehan's Pub, commanding everyone’s attention. "Oi, everyone! My cousin just got married to this gorgeous lass!"

The pub erupted into a chorus of cheers, laughter, and clinking glasses.

“Cheers to the happy couple!” one patron shouted, raising a pint of Guinness high above his head with a twinkle in his eye.

“May yer love be modern enough to survive the times and old-fashioned enough to last forever!” another voice chimed in, invoking an old Irish blessing.

"That’s right! Give 'em a toast!” someone else called out, grabbing the attention of the entire bar.

"Here’s to love, laughter, and happily ever after!" a woman cried from the bar, her voice filled with excitement, as she raised her glass with a smile.

With each new cheer and toast, the energy in the room amplified. Everyone began to chant ‘Sláinte!’—a customary Irish toast—sending a ripple of enthusiasm through the crowd as they joined in with their own variations.

“May the best day of yer past be the worst day of yer future!” a jovial man hollered, and the room roared in laughter, raising their drinks in solidarity.

Tommy shouted out to the pub, “And the first round's on me lads an’ lassies!”

“Make it a good one, will ya?” yelled an enthusiastic voice from across the room, eliciting a laugh from the other patrons.

As clusters of people began shouting out their favorite pub orders, bar staff moved swiftly, filling orders and delivering pints.

“Oi, Everyone take a shot for the couple!” a woman near the bar exclaimed, lifting her glass high while her friends cheered her on.

“Bottoms up, an’ may the road rise to meet ye!” another fella called out, clinking his glass with his mate’s.

“Here’s to love, laughter, and a bleedin’ good time!” a voice echoed from the back.

Joel was scanning the room, chatting animatedly with his group. Just as you were trying to look away, his gaze locked onto yours from across the room. The moment your eyes met, a grin broke across his face, and your breath hitched in your throat.

Before you could contemplate your thoughts further, Joel started making his way through the crowd. Your heart pounded in your chest as he approached, his expression warm and inviting, the world around you fading into the background.

“Hey,” he greeted breathlessly, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Hey,” you parroted back, a playful smile spreading across your face. Your girlfriends quickly told you that they were going to grab another drink at the bar after giving you a subtle wink.

He chuckled and leaned against the table. You could smell the subtle fragrance of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of wood and whiskey, a combination that made your heart flutter “Listen, I hope this ain’t too forward, but I haven’t stopped thinkin’ bout’ you since I met you yesterday,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

You felt your cheeks warm, and you were happy to know the feeling was mutual. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirmed with a soft chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours.

A rush of warmth filled your chest; you found it hard to remember a time when someone had made you feel this way so quickly.

“That's really sweet of you to say,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite how flustered you felt. “It was a fun wedding, I’m assuming?”

“I’m pretty sure the bride and groom will not even remember comin’ to this pub,” he joked, as you both watched them stumble on the dancefloor with friends. “But I was waitin’ for a reason to escape the crowd and have a chat with you,” he admitted, glancing around for a moment before leaning in a little closer. “I’d love to get to know you better.”

Your pulse quickened at the prospect. “I’d like that too.”

So, you both began to chat, and as you shared stories, the connection between you deepened in a way that felt almost effortless. You found yourselves discussing everything—from the silly mishaps Joel experienced at the wedding to the little traditions that made it unique. With each revelation, there was an undeniable chemistry, a sense that you were both intrigued and enchanted by one another. His animated gestures accompanied stories that made you laugh until your sides hurt.

As the hour grew late, there was something on your mind that you just hadn’t been able to get out of your brain. So, you decided to pull off the band-aid and ask him a question that you had been thinking about since yesterday.

“So, where do you live in Texas?” you asked, bringing your drink to your lips.

“Austin, born and raised,” he replied, “Why?” he asked when he noticed you start shaking your head and laughing.

No fucking way.

“I wrapped up my PhD a year ago in International History at LSE. I received a grant to conduct additional research here as a visiting professor in Dublin, but I’ve just accepted a position as an adjunct professor at UT Austin in their History department,” you said quickly, watching his face. “My job at the hotel is just temporary and for some additional cash, but otherwise…I move there in a month.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he processed your words, the atmosphere around you both buzzing with life but fading into the background like a distant hum. You could feel the weight of the moment resting on both of your shoulders, the realization settling in. For all the miles that had separated you until now, there was something conspicuously close—something almost predestined—about your encounter.

Joel’s gaze shifted from your eyes to the clinking glasses and smiling faces around you, but it was clear he wasn’t seeing any of it. His expression turned contemplative, as if he were weighing the improbability of your meeting against the serendipity of this moment.

What were the chances that you would meet the nicest and possibly the most attractive guy that you had ever met in your life here in Ireland and find out that he lived in Austin and had roots in Aberthany? Was this… fate or just a mere coincidence? You were too much of a realist to believe in… fate.

Then, he turned back to you, his eyes locking onto yours—intense, as though attempting to decipher everything you were feeling. A soft gulp escaped his throat, and you felt a corresponding flutter deep in your stomach.

“Wait a second,” he started, his voice low enough to drift over the music but filled with urgency. “You’re movin’ to Austin?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

He studied you for a moment, a slow smile creeping across his face. “I like the sound of that.”

The air in your apartment was thick with the heady scent of sage and lavender.

He hadn’t stopped kissing you since leaving the pub and entering the taxi. Joel’s heart raced with a mixture of disbelief and elation. As he locked eyes with you in your living room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had stumbled into a dream—a vivid, intoxicating fantasy that felt almost too good to be true.

He pulled you close, the heat radiating off him palpable as he dipped his head down to capture your lips with his. The kiss started slow— But it quickly escalated, ignited by the chemistry that had crackled between the two of you since meeting at the hotel.

His hands found their way to your waist, fingers digging gently into your sides as if he wanted to anchor himself to this moment. You responded by slipping your hands into his hair, feeling the softness of it against your palms as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. The way you pulled him close, your fingers entwining in his hair, made him feel seen and cherished in a way he hadn’t experienced in years.

The warmth of his body pressed against you felt like home, which sounded certifiably insane. You had met this man fucking yesterday.

After several heated kisses, you pulled back slightly, breathless, and looked up into his deep brown eyes, which sparkled with desire. “You know,” he said, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, “this is a really nice place you got here.” He scanned the room, taking in the tasteful decorations and the inviting atmosphere.

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, but a teasing thought danced in your mind. “Oh, just wait until you see the bedroom. It’s even nicer,” you replied, your voice low and flirty.

Your hands shook as you attacked the buttons on his shirt. You could feel Joel’s breath hitch as you finally managed to pop the last button, exposing the smooth, warm skin underneath. You could see the muscles of his chest and stomach ripple beneath his tanned skin, and it made your pulse quicken. You wanted to explore every inch of him.

When your fingers finally pushed the fabric away and he caught a glimpse of your intent gaze, he felt an overwhelming rush of desire crash over him. He craved you, in every sense. As you pulled him closer, he could feel the heat radiating from your body, and a primal instinct pushed him to wrap his arms around you, lifting you effortlessly, wanting to feel your weight against him.

You gasped as Joel picked you up and unzipped the back of your dress. As he carried you toward the bedroom, you looped your arms around his neck, marveling at the way his body felt against yours. You couldn't resist nibbling playfully at his earlobe, eliciting a low growl from him that sent a thrill up your spine.

He set you down on the bed and began to peel the dress from your body, leaving you topless with a thong, and you met his gaze, heart racing as both apprehension and excitement danced in your chest. You could sense a longing in his eyes, a deep need that mirrored your own. You leaned back, propping yourself on your elbows. His eyes roamed hungrily over your body, and he reached for his zipper, to take off his pants and boxers, kicking them down his legs. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, baby,”

He was the one who was beautiful, with the massive gift between his legs.

He climbed onto the bed, settling between your legs, easing your thong down over your hips, tracing his fingers along your sides, feeling how you shivered beneath his touch. His eyes were fixated on your glistening pussy and then he zeroed in on your breasts before he put his mouth on your breasts, licking and nipping at them. You gasped when he took one nipple into his mouth, the sensation sending shocks of pleasure radiating through you. Each gentle tug and swirl of his tongue made you feel crazy.

"Joel," you breathed, fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer, wanting more. He looked up at you from your chest and slid his hand between your legs to feel how wet and warm you were for him and sunk two fingers inside your cunt, a low moan escaping your lips as he touched you. He watched the way you reacted, the way your back arched and your breath hitched, each flick of his fingers drawing more responses from you. The air was thick with need, and he felt an overwhelming urge to make you feel every ounce of pleasure you could possibly handle.

He curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp, your hips instinctively grinding against his hand. "Good?" he murmured, watching as your eyes fluttered closed, a look of pure ecstasy washing over your features. You nodded fervently, gripping his hair tighter as he picked up the pace, his fingers moving with a delightful urgency that left you breathless.

As good as this felt, you wanted more. You needed more.

“Please, Joel. I want you,” you gasped grabbing his length urgently and whispering “now” over and over again while he threw his head back, gasping out a harsh “fucking hell,”

He withdrew his fingers slowly, savoring the way your body shuddered in protest at the loss of contact. You opened your eyes, and you could see the hunger in his gaze as he positioned himself over you, the weight of him pressing against your thighs enough to make you dizzy with anticipation.

He watched as you reached for a condom from inside your nightstand, your heart racing at the thought of what was about to happen. He grabbed it from you and ripped the foil with his teeth and then rolled it on his cock with practiced ease. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way he held himself back, and it made you want him even more.

“Ready?” he murmured against your lips, aligning himself with your entrance, looking deep into your eyes seeking permission. You met his gaze and nodded, and he rubbed his nose against yours to soothe you.

You whimpered when you felt the head of his cock slide between your slick folds, your eyes fluttering shut as he slowly buried himself deep inside of you and a low moan escaped his lips.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned as his tongue swirled at your pulse, his voice thick with desire, and you just whined in response, urging him on.

He grabbed your thigh to hitch it higher around his waist and began to move, each thrust taking him deeper. The rhythm he set was slow and deliberate at first, a tantalizing build-up that made you savor every moment.

With each movement, you could sense something—this wasn’t just physical; it was an unspoken promise between two souls.

“Joel…” you managed to gasp, the sound spilling from your lips as you felt the pleasure building within you, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. He grunted in response, his breath coming in hot bursts against your ear as he grabbed the headboard to use it as leverage and picked up the pace.

With each deliberate thrust, he found a perfect angle that made you moan his name. Your body arched and reacted instinctively, your nails digging into his back as you pulled him closer, urging him to move faster. “Please, just like that…”

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he breathed out, his lips brushing yours. It was as if your body had been crafted to fit perfectly against his, a puzzle piece that had been missing that slotted into place with an effortless grace that left him in awe. The warmth of your skin against his, the way your curves molded against him, ignited a spark deep within, making him feel whole in a way he had never truly comprehended before. He had felt desire before, but this… this was something far more profound.

“Joel, I’m so close,” you blurted out, your voice shaky as you bucked your hips against him, desperate for release. He responded to your urgency, his movements becoming more frantic, as he lost himself in the pleasure you were both experiencing.

His fingers found their way to your sensitive spot, rubbing tight circles against your clit. The combination of his thrusts and fingers had you spiraling, your senses overwhelmed.

“You gonna come for me?” he urged. “I want to feel you.”

His words broke the last of your restraint. As if on command, waves of pleasure crashed over you, making your whole body shudder. Some strange sound erupted from your throat as you cried out his name, and your orgasm slammed into you with a powerful force.

“That's it, just like that. So good baby. Good girl, so fuckin’ pretty," he cooed, his own breath coming in ragged gasps.

The moment your muscles tightened around him, the sensation sent him spiraling too. He groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With a few more deep strokes, he found his peak, spilling into the condom as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, moaning your name, and your essence lingered around him like a fragrant spell.

His hand cupped your cheek as he broke away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Can’t believe how lucky I got findin’ you here.”

Joel could hardly fathom how someone he had only met a day prior could evoke such depth of emotion within him.

“Me too,” you breathed, smiling into his eyes.

Joel slid off you as he reluctantly left your warm embrace. He made his way to the bathroom, the faint scent of sage and lavender still hanging in the air, enveloping him like a cozy blanket.

He disposed of the condom in your trashcan, and after washing his hands, he glanced in the mirror, running a hand through his tousled hair and letting out a quiet chuckle at the sheer absurdity of the night. He was grinning like a fool. He walked back to the bedroom, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating you in a way that accentuated your beauty. Your hair sprawled across the pillows, and your skin glowed, the aftermath of the intimate moment you shared still evident in the lingering heat between you.

“Hey,” he called softly, leaning against the doorframe. “Do you need anythin’?

“Water would be great,” you replied, a smile teasing at your lips.

“Okay, I’ll go grab some.” He turned to head back to the kitchen, but then paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “You okay?” The concern was genuine; he wanted to make sure this was as good for you as it had been for him.

“Yeah, just enjoying the afterglow.” You arched an eyebrow playfully.

Joel couldn’t help but laugh, the sound rich and warm as it filled the room. He disappeared into the kitchen, moving through the soft lighting, feeling surprisingly at ease. He filled a glass with water, the sound of the tap running grounding him in the moment.

As he returned, he found you propped up against the headboard. He set the glass on the bedside table and handed it to you. “Here you go,” he said, leaning in closer as you took a sip.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your eyes sparkling with appreciation. You set the glass down and looked at him, the atmosphere shifting slightly. “You really surprised me tonight, Joel. I wasn’t expecting… this. Any of this.”

He smiled, a warmth spreading through him at your words. “Neither was I, honestly,” he admitted. “But I’m glad it happened.” He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “It feels… different.”

You nodded slowly, an understanding passing between you. “Different good or different weird?” you quipped, a teasing smile dancing on your lips.

“Definitely good," he replied, his voice steady and sincere. "In a way that feels… right. I know it’s all so sudden, but—” he paused. “But I can’t shake the feeling’ that there’s somethin’ special bout’ you,” he continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he searched your eyes for understanding. “Meetin’ you has been one of the best things to happen to me in a long time.”

Your heart swelled at his words, “I feel the same way,” you admitted softly, your gaze unwavering. “It’s so strange, but… right.”

“Do you think we could explore this… whatever it is, together once you get to Austin?”

“I’d like that,” you replied, unable to hide your excitement.

His expression softened, and he tightened his grip on your hand as if sealing a silent agreement between you two. “Let’s take it slow, see where this leads. No pressure,”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, your heart fluttering at the potential of what the future might hold.

1 month later – Austin, Texas

The warm Texas sun poured through the windows of your new apartment, illuminating the space you had just begun to call your own. The scent of fresh paint and cardboard boxes filled the air, a reminder of the adventure that lay ahead. You stood in the middle of the living room, the keys to your new home in your hand.

As you took a moment to soak it all in, memories of the wedding and your whirlwind romance with Joel flooded your mind. After that unforgettable night, you and Joel had spent another incredible week together in Ireland, and you got to know his family, and you especially got to know Sarah. Since his ex-wife, he told you he had just had a few flings and one-night stands here and there, but he had never introduced anyone to Sarah. You didn’t want Sarah to feel like you were coming into her life and taking time away from her relationship with her father on her vacation– especially considering how sudden this all was. So, you made sure to include her in your activities with Joel in Ireland. You also made sure to have alone time with her as well, and she slowly became one of your favorite people with her sarcastic personality and comedic quips.

You and Joel would exchange casual smiles over breakfast that turned into stolen glances during afternoon strolls, and before you knew it, you would find yourselves in bed together wrapped up in deep conversations sharing personal stories and dreams.

And then, amidst the laughter and romantic chaos, the words slipped out from Joel during his last night in Ireland —an “I love you,” followed by a soft confirmation from you that you felt the same. It felt surreal, in fact, it was fucking crazy. Yet, your heart insisted that it was right.

You knew Joel would be coming to visit you tomorrow as he was eager to see you and your new place, he was currently on a business trip in Houston with Tommy. He had hated that he couldn’t pick you up from the airport when you landed from Dublin a few days ago, but you reminded him that your parents were helping you move in. After weeks of texts and FaceTime calls, the thought of being reunited made your chest swell with anticipation.

As you turned to face the kitchen, you noticed a small bouquet of fresh flowers resting on the countertop—a sweet touch from your father, who had insisted on bringing a little something to your new place before he left to visit his family in Abernathy with your mother. You smiled as you arranged them in a bright vase, the colors vivid and cheerful.

As you unpacked the last of your boxes, you started transferring a few knick-knacks from the kitchen into a cabinet, and your phone buzzed on the counter, interrupting your thoughts. You glanced at the screen to see a notification from the complex’s resident portal. You opened it up to find a message from the management team welcoming you and sharing upcoming events at the complex.

Earthy pictures of community events, BBQs, and some sort of welcome dinner flickered through, but then something caught your eye. You paused, reading it slowly—the name of the owning company: Miller Construction Corporation.

You laughed thinking back to the shit-eating grin Joel had when you told him what apartment complex you would be living in. Now, it all made sense why he had been so giddy about it. The fact that you had found each other, that you had stumbled into his life in Ireland, and now this twist of fate—you felt as if the cosmos were aligning again to affirm that your bond was meant to be. It felt fitting, given that your new boyfriend's company owned the apartment complex that had become your new home, intertwining your lives in ways you could have never anticipated.

You had been wrong all along. Meeting Joel hadn’t been a mere coincidence.

It was simply fate.

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