Series summary: Din Djarin has made more than his fair share of enemies as one of the galaxy's more fearsome bounty hunters, and he has always been prepared to deal with them should they resurface and come looking for him. But it isn't him they come after. It's you. To rescue you, he'll have to fight his way through an arena of gladiators. Sacrifices will be made, Blood will be spilled, and old scores will be settled... but will you both make it out alive?
Series warnings: canon-typical violence, fight sport, blood, injury, death, hostage/prisoner situation, see individual chapters for additional warnings.
Part One - 4.2k
Part Two - 6.6k
Part Three - 5.3k
Part Four - 5.3k
Part Five - coming soon!
Part Six - TBA
Part Seven - TBA
Hello, hello!
I'm about to start hosting a PPCU Fic Club. It's like a Book Club but with fan fiction: a club where we read the same fic and discuss it. But with the added benefit of showing love and appreciation to the writers! (letting them know, commenting and reblogging because duh!)
Would you be interested in joining on the Discord server it's being held on? Or would you rather I host it on a Tumblr blog? Let me know!
I'm just starting to put things together and it's very new, so please bear with me.
Over the Andes | Frankie Morales x ofc/f!reader | 4,5 k
Summary: Frankie brings you back home. Does he stay?
Content warning: SMUT! (oral, f receiving, protected p in v), allusion to food.
Reader here is more of an ofc, written as a reader insert. She will have some description and a backstory but has no name.
A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter, but we are picking up right where we left!
I'm always happy for comments and/or reblogs, so please don't be shy !
Main masterlist | Series masterlist | Read on AO3
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
"Frankie, kiss me", you utter these words like a plea, you feel, in this instant, that if he doesn't kiss you, you might wither away. He looks stunned for an instant. You wonder if you should just turn around, open your door and forget everything, or grab his shirt and bring his mouth to yours. But you don't have to make a decision. His frozen state barely lasts, and he cups your jaw, guiding your face to meet his and kisses you like he is afraid you will change your mind.
The kiss, it's everything. It's both a little messy, a kiss exchanged by two people who don't know each other's lips, but also like a breath of air and a mouthful of dessert. Lips slowly discovering each other, delicately, like you are both fragile. Frankie's hand travels from your jaw to cradle the back of your neck, and you let out a sigh into his mouth, as your own hands travel to his torso, one up to his neck and hair, the other exploring the wide chest and shoulders. That alone brings a different energy to the kiss. All caution is gone; his other hand grabs your waist, and you both bring your bodies together, like powerful magnets attracting each other. Frankie pushes you against your door, and you grab his ass, showing him he can crush you, try to merge with you. You need to feel his weight on you as his tongue and yours get acquainted.
When the kiss breaks, you feel light heated. Frankie doesn't leave your body long, his mouth travels to your jaw and neck in a delicious trail that leaves you breathless.
"Frankie, do you want… do you want to come in?" It takes him a moment to register what you just said, but when it does, he breaks away to look at you before asking, "Are you sure?" which makes you melt a little.
"It's either that or my neighbors will get quite a show." He nods, and you turn around, getting your keys out of your purse while Frankie's hands travel your waist and stomach and his mouth goes back to your neck. You fumble with the key and the lock, which prompts you and him to laugh, but eventually you manage to open the door and get inside. What happens next is both a slow and rushed trip to your bedroom, rushed because you both shed each other's clothes, kissing, touching, looking. Slow because every so often you are pinned to a wall while Frankie's mouth discovers the newly exposed part of your body: shoulder, breast, nipple. You return the favor when you finally arrive at your bedroom; you push him on the still closed door, hands down his chest, following the trail of hair from his navel, opening his jeans and kneeling in front of him.
"Wait, wait, you don't have to do this, we don't even have to do anything." Frankie's hand is on your cheek, but you don't listen, and you start kissing his erection over his boxers. The hiss he utters makes you smile, while your hands drag his pants down his legs, then trace their way back up to his ass while you continue kissing until he moans.
"Fuck." He drags you back up, his eyes boring into yours, pupils wide, his kind brown eyes are now almost black, and he looks almost feral. "I'm gonna need you to stop. It's been a while, and I want this to last."
You can barely talk, all you do is nod and open your bedroom door. He tries to follow but almost trips on his jeans and exclaims "mierda [shit]," sighs, and adds, "damn boots!" You can't help laughing while he has to crouch down to untie his shoes and take his jeans off. You take that time to take off your pants and crawl backward on your bed, eyes never leaving his.
You don't have to wait long until you feel his body over yours and the kissing and groping starts again, this time with more passion, his hand going straight between your legs, over your panties, making you moan. His mouth travels to your breast, licking and sucking your nipples, one after the other, while his bold hand explores your soaked pussy, a slow tracing of your folds, your entrances, your clit. Your eyes are half open, trying to make sense of everything, of how the night you were supposed to meet Di's boyfriend ended up with you almost naked in bed with the coworker you've been crushing on hard. The fact that this mouth is trailing a path down your stomach, your mound, his nose tracing over your clit, with so much delicacy it felt like torture.
"Frankie." You don't know why you say his name. Maybe because you want tangible proof he is here, with you, that this isn't just a dream, that the large hands that hold your hips are indeed real, as is the man who inhales you and moans, who looks up when you call his name, mind gone, eyes unfocused, drunk in the moment. "Frankie." You say his name again, this time with so much affection, with so much need, while one hand grips his, grounding you in the moment, the other reaching for his face, to touch his cheek, to feel him in this moment. Your eyes hold each other, and you hope he understands what's going through your mind, because you barely know yourself. It's the tenderness and the heat of the moment that has you on a ledge, ready to fall into whatever this is, in the safety of Frankie's presence. And he does understand; he is ready to catch you, intertwining his fingers with yours, turning his head to kiss your palm, eyes closed in the reverence of the moment. And when his eyes look back at you, you see that not only will he catch you, but he will be with you during the fall, cradling you to make sure you are OK.
"May I?" He asks as his hands grip the panties.
"Yes." There is no need for more words, and you let him remove the last piece of clothing, your head falling back as his tongue slowly drags between your folds, little licks that make you gasp, his hands steadying you. He takes his time, and you savor every instant, letting your pleasure slowly climb. You don't feel like you need to rush to your climax, the way Frankie licks and kisses tells you he wants to take his time, discovering you, understanding every little gasp, moan, and eventually cries you utter. You don't know how long you revel in this moment, but soon you can't take it anymore; the slow drag of his tongue at your entrance, around your clit, barely grazing it, is torture. Your hand caresses Frankie's forehead, brushing away the curls damp with his sweat. He doesn't stop, only moans sinfully and drags his eyes up to yours. "Frankie." This time you plead, you beg, you need more. "Please, I can't take it anymore."
You feel him smile on you and his large hands grip your thighs tighter, bringing you closer to his mouth and he starts eating you like a starved man, open mouthed kisses around your hole, tongue fucking you, dragging up and encapsulating you clit, his grip preventing you to move, even if the sensation has you pulling slightly at his hair on the back of his head, the pleasure so intense after the slow torture you were subjected to.
"Fuck, Frankie!" You cry out, as he continues, unrelenting, driving you up and up, "Frankie." It seems that in the height of your pleasure, his name is the only word you know. "Frankie!" you shout one last time, eyes opening wide and back arching from the bed as you come hard, while he prolongs your orgasm, kissing and licking, bringing you to the edge of overstimulation, stopping only when he senses it, moving his mouth to your inner thigh, and kissing slowly back up your body, letting you regain your senses.
"Holy shit, Frankie, what was that?" you exclaim when his body lies next to yours. And you can see past the small smug look, a blush on his cheeks. You laugh and bring him to you so you can kiss him, your taste and his mingling in a kiss that brings back the heat between both of you.
Your hand goes to his boxers, sliding it under, your thumb grazing his slit, making him gasp, and gathering some precum as you slowly start stroking him, while your other hand drags the fabric down, until he finishes removing it himself.
"We don't have to do more, I promise, but I would very much like to fuck you." His eyes are two black wells drowning you in lust.
"Then fuck me." You don't think you ever demanded like that to be fucked, or maybe you just don't remember, but in this moment, the hunger he shows for you makes you feel like you are a goddess, the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on as he sits back on knees and let's his gaze wonder on your body, drinking in every little inch of skin you display.
Just as you are about to sit up and crawl to his cock, wanting to taste him before looking for a condom, a phone chimes.
"Shit!" Frankie exclaims and looks at you with apology. "I have to take it, it might be nothing, but if something has happened to Mia–" You cut him. "Of course, go! Don't worry."
He gives you a peck on the forehead and gets up to find his phone that is still ringing. When he sees the caller, Frankie swears again, goes down the hallway as he answers, "Pope, what the fuck." and you can't help admiring his naked ass as he walks further away.
With a sigh, you plop back on your bed. You can tell he's going to have to leave, and you feel a crushing disappointment. But you also know that what happened tonight isn't just a one-time thing. If he leaves tonight, you will see each other again. This is just a beginning.
Frankie comes back, and you see he has picked up the trail of clothing on his way back. He sits down on the edge of the bed, next to your lying form.
"I'm sorry, I have to go. Tom got in a fight, and he's in jail. I'm meeting Santi and Will to bail him out. I don't want to leave, but I don't want to leave them to take care–"
"Frankie, it's OK, don't worry." You sit up and settle next to him, giving him a tender kiss. "Just go, Frankie. And let me know when you get back home, OK?"
He smiles at you. "Scared something might happen to me?"
"Let's say I tend to be a worrier, so even if I'm sleeping, I'll be happy to have a text from you when I wake up."
"You know, you don't have to go through an elaborate scheme; I'll text you anyway," Frankie smirks and then has the audacity to wink. You playfully push his shoulder, embarrassed that his wink makes you feel flustered. "Go put on some clothes on that pretty butt of yours."
"I knew you were staring at my ass." He playfully answers as he gets up and starts dressing up. You put back on your panties and t-shirt and walk him to your front door. Before going out, Frankie turns to you and apologizes one last time.
"I'm really sorry to leave, but I would love to take you out soon."
"It's OK, Frankie, you are a good friend. But I'm counting on you to make sure we can pick up where we left off eventually."
"Believe me, I want that very much."
And with one last kiss, admittedly a little too long for someone who is expected at the police station to bail out his friend, you closed your door after Frankie waved goodbye.
Back in bed, after quickly replying to Di's text, "Girl, what happened? Are you OK? Also, Frankie drove you home? I'll need a debrief! But seriously, I hope you are OK. Text me." After your nighttime routine, you toss and turn in bed. Deciding you won't fall asleep, you get up to make yourself some herbal tea and sit back in bed with a book, hoping sleep will find you despite the many thoughts spinning in your head. Your phone lights on your nightstand and you see a text from Frankie.
Hey, just got back home. Sorry again for everything. Would you be free this week for dinner?
You smile at his text, and an idea pops in your mind. Instead of answering him, you fire a question.
Would you have stayed the night after we fucked? A few dots appear on your screen, and you watch, transfixed, hoping for a positive answer.
If you had asked, yes.
I would have asked you. Your reply is quick, and before he has time to say anything, you add: What would you have done tomorrow?
I'd have taken you out for breakfast. You smile wide
Are you free tomorrow for a late breakfast? You ask, deciding you don't want to wait.
I am.
Good. So am I.
You don't get an answer as quickly as the others, but you see the dots appearing and disappearing, and you stay hopeful.
So if I came to pick you up at 9, would it be too early? You check the time, it's a little over 1 AM.
Nope, not too early.
I'll be there.
I 'll be ready. Good night, Frankie.
Good night, mi tormenta [my storm].
Frankie wakes up early, and his first thoughts are for you. A smile spreads on his face and doesn't leave while he showers and prepares coffee, even while he tidies the living room and kitchen, making sure he doesn't make too much noise so as not to wake up Santi. They stayed up late, after they came back from the police station, talking about what happened and how they could help their friend. Will had volunteered to let Tom crash at his place, knowing Frankie probably wouldn't be a welcome face when Tom woke up. Yet, even the thought of all of that doesn't take away anything from Frankie's happiness.
"You are awfully cheerful for someone who barely slept." Santi's words make Frankie jump, he had been standing up at his kitchen counter drinking coffee and staring into nothing, a stupid smile on his face.
"¡Puñeta! Me asustaste. [Fuck! You scared me.]"
"I can see that. Thinking about your girl?"
"¡Cállate! [Shut Up!]"
"I see you've cleaned pretty much everything. You should've waited for me. How long have you been up?"
"Since 7. My internal clock is on full Mia mode. I just wanted to keep busy."
"Give me some of that coffee, and I'll take care of the backyard. Get ready, you have a date."
Of course, last night Santi had badgered Frankie until he had spilled that he was at your place when Santi called. And Santi had witnessed the text exchange.
"You like your girls like a natural disaster. Your daughter is a tornado, and your new girl is definitely a storm, quiet until she will destroy you if you piss her off." He had snickered when Frankie had smiled while writing to you.
When you open the door, Frankie's back is turned to you. He spins around, and you are struck by how handsome he is. Despite the dark circles that enhance his tired look, his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you, and your breath catches. His t-shirt looks soft and stretches around his arms and shoulders, and his hair looks wet under his hat. You can feel his eyes roam around your body while yours do the same. When your eyes both meet again, the shy smile on your face matches his blush.
"Hi." How can you be shy when the lips you are staring at made you come only a mere few hours ago?
"Hi." He probably thinks the same because he looks at the ground, still smiling, his dimple drawing you in, "Are you ready?"
"Yeah, let me get my stuff."
Sitting in his car while Frankie drives, you're both silent, and the air is charged. In an attempt to break the ice, you start to speak, but it seems he has the same idea.
"Where are you–"
"I was thinking of–"
You both laugh, and instantly the tension leaves the car.
"I was going to ask where you were taking me."
"A diner I like. It's not far from here. They have a very good breakfast."
And indeed, a few minutes later, he parks in front of an old building. Around the corner sits the diner. The sign is old, but you can still make out the name 'Mel's Diner'. Inside, the place is bustling with clients and servers. The place looks exactly like what an old diner in a movie would look like. A little derelict, seats and tables a little faded, but clean, and the smell, a mixture of pancake, bacon, and coffee, is heavenly.
A waitress arrives to seat you and instantly recognizes Frankie.
"Frankie! You're here to join Benny?"
"I'm what?"
"Let me take you to them." She barely hears Frankie's astonishment, and starts walking to a table a little further down, where, sure enough, you spot Benny and Di, seated in front of copious plates.
"I had no idea–" Frankie turns to you to apologize, but his sentence is cut short by Di screeching your name and waving your way.
"Oh my god! How funny! Come and sit!"
You can't help but smile, turning to Frankie. "I guess we don't have much of a choice," and you go sit next to Di, who scoots over to leave you some room, immediately hugging you and whispering in your ears, "I'm gonna need a full debrief!"
"Fish, what the hell?" Benny gets up to hug Frankie, and they sit back in front of you and Di. "So I guess you both had an interesting night?" Benny adds after looking at both you and Frankie with a smug smirk.
"You are worse than Diana, you know?" You answer him, which makes Frankie laugh and Di elbow your side. "Ow, what? It's true! I can see why you like each other, you live for gossip."
"Fine, I won't comment on the fact that you both arrived together, after leaving together last night." You roll your eyes, but laugh and enjoy the fact that everything seems so easy between all four of you.
Breakfast does end up being not only delicious but really fun. Without going into full details, Frankie manages to tell Benny a bit of what happened last night with Tom, since Benny and Di left shortly after you did. You purposefully left Di in the dark about what had happened exactly with Frankie, but when you both leave together, she can't help but make another crude comment. You flip her off before leaving the diner, which has her and Benny howling.
Frankie drives you back home, all along wondering how he could stop time. He doesn't want this date to end. He doesn't want to go home and fall asleep alone in front of the TV, because he knows that's what's gonna happen after the shitty end of the night he had. Right now he wants to spend time with you. Even if breakfast ended up being fun, he hadn't planned it to end up as a double date, and he feels robbed.
He barely has time to turn off the ignition before you turn to him, biting your lower lip before saying, "Do you want to come in? I mean I'm probably going to crash in front of my TV, so I'm not like, offering more, but since we didn't end up having a proper date, I thought you might want to come in for some coffee, or, I don't know–"
"Yes, I'd love to. I'm exhausted, but I don't want to go home. But let me warn you, I'll probably fall asleep on your couch in front of a shitty show."
"Look at us! Two sexy adults ready to have the time of their lives by taking a nap."
"Right now this sounds better than sex." Frankie is happy to see you laugh, head.
"Come on then, let's take a nap."
You lead him inside your house. He takes more time to look around. It's a decent-sized house, with an open kitchen, a nice-sized living room that opens to a small backyard that seems a little shabby. You seem to follow his gaze because you say, as an apology, "I haven't lived here long, and I was never good at gardening."
"I can help if you want."
You smile shyly and walk to him, putting your hands on his shoulders. "That's really nice, maybe." And then you lift your head to kiss him. His hands automatically wrap around your waist. The kiss is soft, just at the edge of desire. Like you both want to explore each other, but there is also some languor to it. He feels your hand pull off his hat, before breaking the kiss and taking his hand.
"Come, let me show you my pride and joy." You pull him into the living room, to a plush corduroy burgundy couch that looks soft and comfortable.
"I paid a lot to have something on which I could fall asleep without hurting my back."
He mimics you as you take off your shoes. The seating is wide and can easily hold two people lying across it. He sits next to you and follows your lead when you lie down, his back to the back of the couch, his arms wrapping around you as you nestle comfortably, your back to his chest.
"Wow, OK the couch is really comfortable." Frankie sighs, letting himself melt into the arms of the seating, which feels soft while giving support.
"Told you." You sigh contentedly, and your breath soon evens out. He falls asleep soon after you.
You wake up slowly, the feeling of comfort and warmth keeping you from opening your eyes. You don't know if Frankie is awake yet, and you want to stay a moment in his arms. His arm is heavy across your waist. The feeling of soft lips on your shoulder, and the slight tingle from his mustache make you smile.
"Have you been awake long?" you ask him, eyes still closed, savoring his lips slowly tracing a path from your shoulder to your neck.
"Only a few minutes. I slept like a log."
"Mm mm, me too."
His large hand splays on your stomach, under your top, his thumb gently caressing, while his kisses travel back to your shoulder. Your own hand travels behind you, reaching for the back of his neck, fingers lightly scraping his scalp. And your other meets his hand on your stomach, fingers interlacing. You both stay like this, enjoying the quiet, until his hand leaves yours to travel down your body: down your hip, down your thigh, and you nestle your ass closer to him, feeling him getting hard behind you. You turn your head, and your lips meet for a slow kiss, one that is a little messy, lips not fully catching each other's, his tongue tracing your lower lips, making you moan slowly.
You spin in his arms to face him, giving you full access to his face and mouth. You feel his hand grab your ass, turning the moment into something more passionate, messier. You feel the need inside you grow, and you bite his lower lip. He groans in your mouth, and in a movement, you are under him, his weight delicious on your body. You feel his hard cock pressing against your core, and you move your hips, trying to get more friction.
"Cosa linda [Pretty thing], you are going to kill me." Frankie's low voice reverberates in your ears, and to prove his point, you wrap your legs around him, bring him closer, elated in the sensation of him rutting against you, of his hands traveling over your body, your own griping his shoulders.
"Frankie, I want you naked."
"Mierda [shit], I need you to be naked, mi tormenta [my storm]."
"Then why are we still dressed then?" you laugh, pushing him so you can sit up, taking off your tank top while Frankie removes his t-shirt, kissing again, the process of removing your clothing slowed down by the kissing and biting and licking. Finally you can look at Frankie's glorious body, you feel overwhelmed, almost shy when you see him looking at you in turn, as you lie down, his eyes roaming everywhere, now that daylight allows him to see you fully.
"You are so beautiful." He breaks the silence with these words, and your first reflex is to fold your legs and hide your face with your hands. It's a sentiment you hadn't felt in so long, feeling exposed, not because you are naked, but because he looks at you with more than just lust. His gaze is pure openness and admiration.
"Shh, don't hide. Is everything OK?" He gently pulls your hands away, looking worried.
"Yes, I promise." You grab his face and kiss him. "I felt a little... I don't know, intimidated, I guess."
"We can stop, if you want."
"No, I don't want to stop. I need you."
Lying between your legs, Frankie gently kisses you, both arms around your head. Kissing you until you are a puddle under him, ready to beg for him to fuck you. He reaches to grab his pants, pulling out a condom from his wallet.
Sitting up, he opens the wrapper, but your hands go to his, taking the condom from him and slowly putting it on his cock. You watch Frankie close his eyes, head back, hissing like the pleasure borders pain, as you slowly unfold the condom and stroke him a few times.
Settling back on you, he notches his tip at your entrance, slowly entering you. You both gasp, the feeling enveloping you both in the moment. You feel the delicious stretch of him inside you and then the slow and deep rhythm he sets. You both move, like one, your forehead touching, eyes boring into each other. Frankie lifts one of your legs and sets it on his shoulder, shifting slightly. You feel him deeper and deeper, your eyes closing from the intense pleasure that rises inside your body, enveloping you. You grip Frankie's shoulders, nails scratching him, but you barely notice; your cries cover his own moans, and it feels like you are now both rising together, pleasure taking you in its wake, higher and higher, until you come hard, taking Frankie with you seconds after, holding each other, falling together, and floating back as one, in a deep kiss.
taglist - Please let me know if you want to be removed it's not a problem, or if you want to be added: @iknowisoundcrazyreads @lillaydee @littlemisspascal @harriedandharassed @sunnytuliptime @picketniffler @sawymredfox @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @half-moon16 @sin-djarin @hanahleah @missadangel @simpingforjoel @aurorawritestoescape @kirsteng42 @annwrites24 @vodkaandpizza @quinnnfabrgay @littlepedrito @petalsinblood @savedyounine @isabellaboo2025 @copperhalfcent @the-blind-assassin-12 @madpanda75 @anoverwhelmingdin @inept-the-magnificent @perpetualharpyresonance @ashleyfilm
Here I thought we’d be opening this baby up with a smooch and then a sweet goodnight and then we’d have to wait until they saw each other again BUT NO! They were simply too horny for each other and, you absolute angel, you did not stand in their way.
H O T.
That was hot. I loved how she just couldn’t stop saying his name and he seemed to love that, too, which I loved even more. Once again, we crown him as king.
But then the wrench gets thrown in when Pope calls. Ugh. Fucking Tomothy. Ruining everything. At least Reader got to see Frankie’s butt. At least she got that as a parting gift.
Ah! Impromptu double diner date! Fun! I really love how easily Reader and Benny get along already. I hope Di is more relaxed now that she knows the guys are cool (except Tom) and that they (except for Tom) and Benny are cool with Reader. A double date was t what either of them had in mind though, but honestly it worked out because a couch nap date? With Frankie?? Yes, please!!
I am really loving this story and I can’t wait to see how things go for these smitten kittens!!
Over the Andes | Frankie Morales x ofc/f!reader | 4,4 k
Summary: It's fight night!
Content warning: mention of alcoholism, yelling, anger, some swearing, mention of blood and the fight happening on the ring.
Reader here is more of an ofc, written as a reader insert. She will have some description and a backstory but has no name.
A/N: Here we finally are! The moment we have been waiting for! I don't have much to add except: I'm sorry 🤭😈
I'm always happy for comments and/or reblogs, so please don't be shy !
Main masterlist | Series masterlist | Read on AO3
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
"What do you wear to a fight?" You asked Di on the phone when she called to give you the information about the fight.
"I don't know? Very short shorts and a bathing suit top?"
"I don't plan on stealing the ring girl's job!"
"Shame, I think you would be a hit. Just wear something comfortable. And something you won't mind having beer spilled on."
"Damn, I wanted to wear my red cocktail dress and the stilettos I never use."
"The backless one that shows your boobs? I think every man in the room would love it if you dressed like that." Di laughs, and you join in, imagining the incongruity of such a scene.
"It's all the way down Clearwater, I'll pick you up at 6, just in case we hit traffic on our way there."
"Aren't you going to ride with Benny?" You are surprised by the arrangement; you thought you would drive there by yourself.
"No, he'll be there earlier and probably leave after us. Doing his trainer job. He'll meet me at my place later. That way we'll have time to debrief on our way back."
"Sounds like a plan! "
The day Di comes and picks you up, you are ready in your most comfortable outfit, including a black t-shirt that says, Feminist is My Second Favorite F word. You figure it'll be a great conversation starter. Or a way to see how Benny and his friends react.
While waiting for her, you smile, remembering the last time you saw Frankie, on Thursday evening. You stood on the tarmac to wait for him, and you had watched him land his helicopter after his sunset ride. You were here to give him the next day's weather report, since you weren't working that day, and you decided to wait for him outside, to make sure you wouldn't miss him. Not because you wanted to see him fly again. Not because you loved watching him from afar, as he maneuvered the tricky vehicle. Watch his face as he concentrates, his serious look and the headset that makes him look so competent. No, not at all.
After he said farewell to the passenger on his flight, he spotted you, and your heart jumped at the smile that spread on his face. This had to mean something, right? You felt like a shift as you both walked toward each other, and while you both talked about work. It felt like both your minds were elsewhere, not in the words you were saying. You felt it in the way he seemed to lose track of his words, on the way you both smiled at each other, at the way you both lingered instead of saying goodbye. The evening wind was blowing the curls out of your bun in every direction, sometimes coming on your face. And for a moment, it seemed like he was going to tuck a wild curl behind your ear. You saw his hand move toward your face, the finger twitch. But instead, Colin interrupted whatever was about to happen by calling out for Frankie, and you had no choice but to leave. But turning back to look at Frankie, you saw he was still looking, with a small smile on his face. You've been replaying the scene in your head ever since, wondering what might have happened if he had tucked that curl. You think you might have kissed him.
You're going to ask him out. You are done wondering, you've had fun with the flirting, but now you want more. Maybe you could ask him to that movie you talked about earlier. Something innocent enough, should he not want to date you, which you are doubting more and more. Yes, that's what you are going to do. You'll text him something tomorrow. By the time you are in Di's care, you are composing the text in your head.
"¡Carajo! [Damn it!] Why can't this thing stay in place?" He's been trying to fix Mia's hair into the same complicated harido she had when he picked her up last week. But he can't seem to follow the YouTube tutorial he found. His clumsy fingers are too big for his daughter's fine curls. And the fact that she keeps fidgeting on her chair doesn't help.
"Daddy!" Mia giggles and turns to put her hand on Frankie's mouth, totally unravelling the part that he had managed to secure on her hair. "You said a bad word!"
"Ooooh, Daddy is in trouble!" Santi, who has been sitting at the kitchen table, doing whatever on his phone, pipes up with a look that can only mean one thing: make Frankie's life harder. "Well done, mi princesa [my princess], for understanding the word, your Spanish is getting better and better!"
Frankie is torn between embarrassment at having cursed in front of his daughter, and wanting to kill Santi for not helping at all.
Mia is in stitches. Her shyness with Santi is now totally forgotten. They are like thick and thieves, and despite all the mischief that happened in the past week and the time he wanted to kick his friend out of the house, Frankie is trying very hard not to smile, especially when he can sense Mia is almost ready to repeat the word. He can see it in her face, the cute grin she wears and the way she squints her eyes in concentration. He cuts her off before she can say anything with a stern, "Mija," [honey] She giggles again and jumps from the chair when the doorbell rings.
"Your hair!" Frankie yells after her but to no avail. He follows her to the door, watching the last strand of hair fall off from the pin that was vialantly holding it on top of her head. He sighs and opens the doors as Mia yells, "Mama!" Selena picks her up and smothers her in kisses. She gives Frankie a look after taking a look at Mia's hair when she puts her down. He just shrugs, and Selena smirks before hugging Santi.
"Muñequita [Sweetie], ready to go to mom's house?"
"Yes!" Mia runs to get her small backpack that contains her most precious treasures: trinkets and toys she carries with her everywhere.
Frankie picks up Mia's other bag and hands it to Elena, apologizing, "I was trying to do a French braid, but I just can't get it right."
"That one's hard, especially because this little one moves around all the time." She tickles Mia, who is back in her arms and squirming as she laughs.
"Say goodbye to Daddy and Uncle Santi!"
Frankie goes to kiss Mia after Santi, patting her hair to try and make it less wild. "Goodbye muñeca [sweetie], have a fun week with mommy and Jorge, I'll see you next week."
"Bye Daddy!"
The door closes, and like always, Frankie feels some little relief in the quiet that settles in the house and huge sadness to see his daughter go.
"Shit, you were right, the place looks like a tornado went through it." Santi is standing in the middle of the living room. Toys are scattered all around, and Frankie knows the kitchen isn't any better. He is relieved his friend is here to help with the loneliness he feels every time Mia leaves.
"We'll have to take care of it tomorrow. We should leave now if we don't want to be late for Benny's fight."
"Yeah, right, let me grab my things."
Driving over the causeway, Frankie thinks back on last Thursday, when he could have sworn you wanted to kiss him. You had been waiting for him as he landed the helicopter, looking prettier than ever, loose curls flying around your head. Your pretty smile as you gave him a report that could definitely have waited for him to come back to the office, or could even have been left on his desk. Your eyes were sparkling as you laughed at a bad joke he made, he doesn't even remember what it was. And the way your eyes dropped to his mouth when he almost reached out for your hair. He could have killed Colin for interrupting the moment.
He keeps replaying this in his head, and the more he thinks about it, the more he knows he wants to take you on a date. He's been denying it, but he really likes you, and he is pretty much certain you like him too. Wh? He can't understand, he was such an ass the first time you met, but he isn't going to throw away his second chance. He'll text you tomorrow, there is a movie showing you mentioned wanting to see, and he hopes you haven't yet.
When you arrive, the place is already packed. The fight is supposed to start in less than 30 minutes, and people already have drinks in hand, and some are already seated. You are nervous. Not because you're about to meet your friend's boyfriend, even if she refuses to use that word, "we aren't in high school". It's because you are going to have to meet other people in a setting you are definitely not used to.
"I texted Benny, he's in the locker room with Jim, the guy he's training. He'll come out and say hi before going back there."
As you order your drinks, you watch as a tall blond guy comes up to Di; she squeals in delight, kisses him, and then introduces you to each other. You see what she meant, he is tall, muscular, very hot, and also the exact opposite of every guy Diana has dated. He looks like the type she sleeps with but never dates. And with the look of utter love he gives her, that she gives back, the smile they both have on their face while they chat as you wait for your drinks, you can tell this is serious. More than any other guy she had introduced to you. Benny is nice, he includes you in the conversation and even gets a kick out of your t-shirt. All in all, you feel at ease, until he says, "Let's go meet the guys. You can sit with them, and I'll join you when the fight starts."
You sense Diana tensing next to you, so you try to ease your own nerves. It doesn't matter if no one likes you. You have to be there for her.
You walk toward a group of 4 men; you immediately recognize Benny's brother, another tall, hot, blond guy who smiles at both you and Di when he sees you arrive. The guy standing next to him has brown hair, and when his gaze follows his friend's, he seems a little annoyed at the interruption. The two other guys have their backs turned to you. One is a little shorter, he has black and grey hair, and next to him, a silhouette that makes your heart stop. The shoulders, the hat- that can't be him? And then he turns around, and you exclaim, "Frankie?"
Upon arriving, the first thing Frankie notices is the beer Tom has in his hand. Unless the bar sells non alcoholic beer, which he doubts, it means he was right in doubting Tom's commitment, and he hates the feeling of being right. He doesn't have time to linger on the feeling, because Benny greets them with a big hug and a slap on the shoulder, showing his excitement at having everyone for his protégé's first fight. It's hard to stay fixated on his uneasiness when he sees his friend so happy, even more when he tells them, "Diana is coming with a friend."
Tom rolls his eyes and is probably ready to make a snarky comment, which leads Frankie to think this is not his first beer. Fortunately, Santi jokes about Benny's new relationship status, and after Benny leaves them to go check on Jim, the group of friends talks and laughs like old times. It feels like a moment coming around, like everything is folding back into place. The irony is not lost on Frankie that the last time they were all in this place was just before they left for Colombia and before everything fell to pieces.
Suddenly, Will, who was telling them about the latest project, stops talking, his eyes focusing on a point in their group. It only takes a second for Frankie to understand that Benny is here with his girlfriend, and when he turns around, ready to greet her, he hears, "Frankie?"
He sees you, standing in front of him, a bewildered look on your face.
"You two know each other?" Benny asks.
"We work together!" You say, turning to Benny.
"You must be Frankie's new colleague." Santi chimes in, extending his hand to shake yours, making Frankie want to hit him when he sees you confused as you nod.
Luckily, there is no time to linger on this, as Will greets Diana, Benny's girl, a very pretty tall brunette, who seems nervous but also very much smitten, which makes Frankie happy. They all barely have to introduce each other, as Benny leaves, asking them to play nice, kissing Diana and going back for the last pep talk.
"What are the odds?" Diana turns to Frankie, a grin on her face, one that clearly means trouble as she adds, "I've heard so much about you."
Frankie mirrors her smirk, "Have you? Not too much bad stuff, I hope?"
"You mean apart from your first impression? What was it? 'pretty face and no brain', something like that?" Frankie can't help his wince. You elbow Diana, hissing "Di!" and she laughs.
Soon after, the MC announces the arrivals of the fighters and everyone's attention is centered on the fighters and the ring. And you shuffle closer to him while Diana is drawn to Benny, who has just joined them.
"I can't believe you're here! I'm here to meet Di's elusive boyfriend, and you've been his friend all this time. She's been so secretive about him." She adds like an afterthought.
"I didn't even know Benny's was going to introduce us to Diana tonight. He barely talked about her, even we knew something was up. So yeah, not only was I surprised when he announced she was coming, but knowing you are her friend, that's inconceivable."
"Look at these two being so discreet when they evidently like each other so much." They both look at Diana and Benny. He has his arm over her shoulder and is whispering something in her ear. She tilts her head back as she laughs, still clapping for the fighters. You and Frankie look at each other and smile at the scene.
The fight starts, and he notices your wince when the first blow hits, and then your head turns away when another blow brings blood from a cut on one of the opponent's faces.
"First fight?" He leans in to ask, making sure you hear him over the loud cheers.
"That obvious? Yeah. Not my scene, but I was curious." You turn your face to him, eyes still showing your uneasiness.
"It does take a while to get used to it."
"You are?" You look at him intently, like you are trying to read him, search deep inside him. He turns his face to the ground. He isn't ready for you to see all the ugly parts he hides.
"Unfortunately, yes. But you don't have to watch, we can go sit in the back."
"I don't want to take you away from your friends. And I want to be here for Diana, it's also her first fight." Your eyes are drawn to your friend. "Promise you won't tell anyone, but she's so nervous to meet everyone. I know she's faking the ease she is showing right now to fit in."
"I don't think she needs to fake anything. If she makes Benny happy, which is definitely the case, we are going to love her."
For the rest of the fight, he makes sure to talk to you and bring your attention to something else when he senses it gets too much for you.
The fight is thankfully over soon, and Benny leaves them again to debrief the fight. The guys are actually a great group, not that you would have doubted it, but you might have had your own prejudice. But with Frankie there, it's fairly easy to feel included. And you can tell Will does everything to make Di comfortable in Benny's absence.
They are all a tight group of friends, joking around, rough and nice to each other. Santi uses his charm on both Diana and you, and you understand very quickly that it's just a facade when soon he launches into a talk about his own girl who is coming to join him in a few weeks, his eyes betraying the love he feels for her. The only one you have a hard time talking to is Tom. The more the evening goes on, the more aloof he seems to get, and you can't help but count the number of beers he drinks. It's hard not to notice his eyes going out of focus and his speech getting slurred, even if he still seems pretty held together.
When you return from a brief stop at the bathroom, you find yourself a little alone. Benny and Di are a little further away, in a corner, talking like two people in love, as if the world didn't exist despite the noise and crowd. You don't want to interrupt them, they seem so sweet together. But you feel a little nervous to go join the group of men, not because they won't welcome you, but just because you don't want to interrupt the heated conversation they seem to have. You grab a drink, and since you see that Frankie doesn't have anything, on a whim you get him the same drink he's had all night. You arrive with both drinks in hand, and Frankie, seeing you, smiles, which eases your nerves. But once you join the group, Tom turns to you and, with unconcealed annoyance, snaps, "Can't you see you are interrupting us?"
You feel shame and embarrassment, but also anger all at once, and you let anger take the lead because even if you were afraid of bothering, the exact reason you hesitated to join them, you won't let anyone talk to you like this.
"Fuck you!" That's all that comes out of your mouth. You barely see your surroundings, you have tunnel vision, and everything is red. "You don't get to talk to me like this."
"Excuse me?" You can see the rage radiate from him as he moves to tower over you. He is taller than Frankie, and he is using all his height to intimidate you, taking another step toward you. But you don't care; your fury is making you take a reckless decision, as you take your own step forward and look him straight in the eyes. You barely listen to the guys around starting to talk; you don't know, care, what they are saying, instead flare.
"I'm sorry I interrupted your chat, and I would gladly have left if you had had manners. And yeah, I'll leave, but fuck you for talking to me like this." And before you leave, you pour both drinks down his crotch, you don't care that it also soaks part of your shoes. You just look at his face as it goes red, and veins threaten to pop from anger on his forehead. You see hands restrain Tom on his arms and torso, and with a smile and one last look, you leave. As you walk away, you feel all the anger leave your body, and the adrenaline leaves room for anxiety and fear. You quickly leave the building, not daring to look back. You hope the guys will hold him because he definitely seems like the guy who could punch you, especially since he is drunk and probably not in his right mind.
Frankie is too shocked when Tom yells at you that he barely reacts, Santi being the first to hold Tom's arms, and Will putting a hand on his chest when he takes a step toward you. He does manage to warn Tom by calling out his name, getting closer to intervene. But he is still so stunned, he didn't expect your reaction and could almost have laughed when you poured the drink on Tom. And it's only when you leave that his temper flies. He is torn between wanting to punch Tom and run to you. He manages to contain himself, stepping in front of Tom, once you leave and look at him straight in the eyes.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What the fuck? Have you seen what she's done?" Tom is ready to fight, Frankie can tell, but he holds still, pushing hard on Tom's chest to make him back off.
"Fuck off, Tom, you don't talk to people like this. I'm going to see if she is ok, but this right here, what just happened? We are going to talk about it. Get a grip on yourself and stop the fucking booze." He doesn't care if he angers Tom, if he embarrasses him in front of their friends, calling out his drunkness, he just wants to get to you and check that you are ok.
He needs to temper his anger, because he is furious. Before you arrived, Tom was back on his usual shit, talking to them all excited, booze running through his veins, rejoicing in Santi coming home, and starting to plan a very dangerous trip to get the money back. The disappointment he felt when he saw Tom drinking again was only heightened when he realised neither Will nor Benny seemed to notice. Only Santi sent a look his way to see how he fared. And as the evening went on and Tom got drunker, Frankie got angrier until this moment where he might have punched Tom and started a fight, instead of doing what was important, which was coming to see you.
You are out, a phone in your hand, when he gets to you. Calling your name, you turn around, and you seem relieved when you see him, but still a little apprehensive.
"I'm sorry about Tom; he should never have talked to you this way." Frankie wants to put you at ease.
"You don't have to apologize for your friend. He's a grown man and needs to own up to his shit."
"You're right, but I don't think he's in the right state of mind to realize that right now. And I don't want you to leave like that, thinking we are like that, that's not how–" He doesn't even know how to finish this sentence.
"He needs to stop drinking, that guy had some serious issues." He can see you are still angry, and the hand not holding your phone is trembling. He takes a step toward you and holds your hand. "I know, he does. I've been trying to talk to him. I'm really sorry."
You take a deep breath and leave your hand in his, letting him squeeze it.
"I'm sorry about my reaction, I might have gone a little too far."
"You didn't. I'm sorry I was so slow at reacting, I didn't expect this to happen. But I can tell you he didn't either, and he deserved it. You ok?"
You take another deep breath and take your hand away from his. You look at your phone and sigh. "Yeah, I just want to leave, but I don't think there are any cars around."
"Why don't I take you home?" Frankie doesn't want to see you go, but he understands your need to be alone.
"No, I don't want to bother you, you have to go back to your friends."
"Believe me, I don't want to go back there and face Tom after what I told him. What about Diana?"
"She'll be fine, she's with Benny now, and I don't want to bother her."
"Let me take you, I'm ready to go home too." He wants to make sure you get back home safe and that you are alright.
"Ok," you relent after another look at your phone.
As he takes you to his truck, he quickly texts Santi, letting him know his driving you home and seeing if he can get a ride with Will. He quickly gets an answer: "Don't worry, I have my key in case you don't come home ;)."
The drive is mostly quiet, he tries to talk a little but senses you need quiet. He can feel you relax, and that eases him. When you get closer to your place, you direct him, and soon they are in front of your house. He gets out before you can turn to him to thank him. He wants to walk you to your door. He wants to apologize again, wants to make sure you are ok, and maybe if he can muster the courage, ask you out. He doesn't get in time to open your car door, but you let him walk you to your door.
Once you get there, before you turn to thank him and take your leave, he speaks. "I'm really sorry about how the evening ended, but I want you to know the guys really enjoyed their evening, and that Diana was a hit."
You smile at that, and Frankie rejoices that he managed to make you feel lighter.
"I'm really happy. She hasn't had a relationship in a while, and I was surprised when she told me about Benny. I really hope this works out."
"Me too. Benny has been through some shit, and he had a hard time settling. Seeing him with her makes me happy. They look good."
"Yeah, I think they bring a lot to each other. I hope I didn't ruin anything with my reaction."
Frankie grabs both your hands, he wants to make sure you listen, and you look at him in surprise when he pulls you toward him.
"You did nothing wrong. Frankly, I've got enough of Tom's bullshit, and I think everyone has. This has to be his wake-up call. And nothing you do will ruin anything for Benny and Di." You look at him with such openness, like you are drinking his every word, that he almost bends his head to kiss you. But he doesn't want to do this now after what happened, so instead he adds, "And I promise, if the guys don't like you, they won't hold it against Di."
That makes you laugh, and he smiles watching the last bit of tension leave your body. For a moment you just look at each other, letting the moment fill you with warmth.
Until you say, "Frankie. Kiss me."
Spanish translation:
muñeca/muñequita: literally doll, sweetie
carajo: literally dick, cock, used to say damn it, hell, fuck
taglist - Please let me know if you want to be removed it's not a problem, or if you want to be added: @iknowisoundcrazyreads @lillaydee @littlemisspascal @harriedandharassed @sunnytuliptime @picketniffler @sawymredfox @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @half-moon16 @sin-djarin @hanahleah @missadangel @simpingforjoel @aurorawritestoescape @kirsteng42 @annwrites24 @vodkaandpizza @quinnnfabrgay @littlepedrito @petalsinblood @savedyounine @isabellaboo2025 @copperhalfcent @the-blind-assassin-12 @madpanda75 @anoverwhelmingdin @inept-the-magnificent @perpetualharpyresonance @ashleyfilm
THAT ENDING!!!!! CHA!!!! THAT ENDING!!!!!! AHHH!!!
Wowzers, this chapter was a RIDE. A ride that I very much enjoyed.
Some highlights:
Reader’s t-shirt choice. My first thought was “her other favorite F word is Frankie” 😌
Di and Benny. “Don’t call him my boyfriend we’re not in highschool” Okay girl but you both look like lovesick teenagers when you giggle and blush like that. (I love it so much)
Reader recognizing Frankie by his shoulders alone. #OneOfUs
Frankie noticing that she’s not the most comfortable person at the fight and trying his best to put her at ease. What a guy.
Fuck you, Tom!!! Instant legendary status for Reader. No one has ever deserved a beer shower more than him.
The Doorstep Scene!!!! Hand holding!!! Eye contact and sincerity!!!
READER’S REQUEST!!! 👀
I can’t even say anything else because I have to go read the next part immediately. Okay bye.
Over the Andes | Frankie Morales x ofc/f!reader | 3,9 k
Summary: Santi arrives in Tampa, and reader has an important conversation with Di.
Content warning: Mentions of a breakup and divorce.
Reader here is more of an ofc, written as a reader insert. She will have some description and a backstory but has no name.
A/N: You might feel like not much happens here, but we are getting to know our character a little better, and giving them time to get to know each other.
I'm always happy for comments and/or reblogs, so please don't be shy !
Main masterlist | Series masterlist | Read on AO3
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
Di and you are lying down on a blanket, the remains of a picnic around you. The sun is setting, and there is a light breeze caressing the grass around you. It's a quiet spot, a little park Di found one day, a little ways away from both your places, but it's calm, not too crowded, and beautiful. Both of you are happy to enjoy this moment, a quiet bubble in your busy lives. With an arm thrown over your eyes, you feel sleep dragging you down its path when Diana breaks your near slumber.
"Why did you and Eric divorce?" She almost sounds like a child, asking a question that has been bugging her for some time, something she can't make out by herself and finally resolves to ask you.
"Huh?" Yet, for you, the question comes out of nowhere, and it takes you a moment to comprehend the words. Your arms fall off your face, and you blink in the diminishing sunlight, staring at her.
"I mean, I know what you told me, you just drifted apart, fell out of love, yadi-yadi- ya." She isn't looking at you, her face is still turned toward the sky. "It's just… You were such a perfect couple."
"Obviously not." You can't help your snicker. But she turns her head to look at you, and you see something more in her eyes, something almost like betrayal.
"You were my role model."
That stops whatever you were about to say, the way you tend to dismiss the conversation, deflecting with a joke. "Di, I… I don't know what to tell you."
"I mean, it always felt a little strange. One day you two were living together, happy and in love, after probably one of the best weddings I've ever been to, and the next day, you call me and tell me you are getting a divorce."
"It didn't happen in a day, it took longer than that." You frown, grasping an errant thought: that maybe you hadn't really told Diana everything. Not that you deliberately hid anything.
"But what happened? I mean… I always looked up to you both. I know you think I'm in my slut era, that's been lasting for decades," she laughs with something that sounds almost deprecative, and you want to interrupt, but she goes on, "I always felt like, one day I could have what you had. And now I don't know."
"Di, where is this coming from? It sounds so sudden." You sit up, and she mimics you, both sitting with crossed legs, facing each other.
"Benny and I had a fight." Her eyes drop to the ground, and she quickly adds, "Don't worry, it's all good now, but it made me realize how much I care about him, and I don't know… Is it all worth it?" Her eyes look up to you, and you see that child all over again.
"What did you fight about?" You can't help but worry. Diana just shakes her hand, a way of saying it's not important.
"Oh, it's silly; we both kinda got in our heads, because we haven't really been official, you know. And it escalated until we both realized we really just want to be a couple." Her smile betrays her happiness at saying the word out loud.
"Wait, does that mean I'm finally going to meet him?"
"Yeah… maybe." You throw an empty bag of chips at her.
"OK fine! We are thinking of doing it soon. Try to organize something where he could bring his brother and friends, and I could bring you. That way we could all meet each other."
"When were you going to tell me?"
"I'm telling you now!"
A moment of silence follows, while you both share a smile. You know you owe her a better explanation, because you want her to understand, and you also want her to be happy. You take a big breath and start.
"It's true, we did fall out of love. But we also still love each other, just not romantically."
"I don't get it."
"We still have a lot of respect for each other. And you can't erase a decade of being together, of being in love for most of it."
"But that's the thing, you were together for so long, why didn't you... I don't know, try harder?" She looks apologetic as she says this, not wanting you to feel hurt by her words, but also really wanting to understand.
"I know, but we met young and grew apart. It's true!" You exclaim when you see Di roll her eyes, "We just didn't really realize it until it was too late. And we did try, but… but I don't know what to tell you. We became roommates, not lovers anymore. We didn't have the same interests, we didn't want the same things. It was fun when we were younger, but as we grew older, we grew apart. And I think we just didn't notice until one day he mentioned wanting to move to another place, sell the apartment, and buy a house. And I didn't. That started a conversation, one which made us realize how different we wanted our future to be. And that's that. There was no big fight, no cheating, just a slow realization that we weren't in love anymore, and that we didn't really want to fall back in."
"That feels so sad."
"It is, but also, it's not? We were together for more than 10 years, and most of our time together was wonderful. I have so many fond memories of him, and I'll always want the best for him, and him for me. There is no regret, I don't think I wasted years of my life with him." You reflect on what you said, trying to see if there is a better way to explain things, but there isn't. That is exactly what happened. "I maybe wish we had realized a little earlier, and I wouldn't have gone so long without sex." You can't help but add a little joke to diffuse the small tension.
"Really! How long has it been?"
"Well, now it's fine. I did go on a few dates before moving here, at least I scratched that itch." You hear Diana whisper "slut" under her breath, and you laugh before continuing.
"Before that, I don't know, it's like we didn't want to, didn't even think about it. We maybe had sex 2 or 3 times a year."
You sigh. "I don't know what else to tell you, it just happened. What was harder was when I noticed most of my life had evolved around him. And that's partly on me, because I was fine with not having too many friends. And I did make my own and still keep in touch. But I wanted to find myself again."
"And you aren't mad he's with someone again, so soon?"
"We divorced almost a year ago, I'm fine. He met her while we were figuring things out, and he told me right away he was starting to feel something for someone else. Was I thrilled at the time? No. But angry? Never. And she's really great. Not my type, we won't become friends, but she is perfect for him, for who he is now."
"You act so wise, it just feels impossible to be in love and then not be anymore." Her voice is still laced with regret and a little bit of uneasiness. You want to reassure her, want her to understand that it was worth it, whatever the outcome was.
"Diana, while we were together, we were good, happy. We can still be your model. I actually think the way we broke up is also great. And I still believe in love."
"With Frankie?" Her sly smile makes you feel flushed.
"Shush, I don't know. He's fine." You wave your hand, trying to chase the subject away.
"He's fine," Di repeats, mocking you. "So fine that you lent him a book, and are what, texting now?"
"I already admitted to liking him. I just don't know if he likes me. We're just friends."
"Friends, fuck this! The guy is flirting, and you know it." She throws the bag of chips back at you.
"Maybe… But I think I like this part. I'm enjoying the status quo, not really knowing, for the moment. It's like a shy flirt. And if it doesn't go further than this, then it's fine, really. I'm not pursuing him for my next love story, I'm just happy being friends with him, and maybe more."
"Don't you want to fuck him?"
"Of course I want to! Girl! I saw him piloting a helicopter! Can you imagine what it's done to me?" You groan, lying back dramatically and then sigh, "He was so hot, being so competent and all."
Di lies back again and sighs, "I want to see Benny train people, and watch him work out. I would climb him like a tree."
"You are already fucking him."
"Yeah. But not enough." You both giggle like teenagers talking about their crushes.
"¡Holà pendejo![Hello, asshole!]" Frankie exclaims loudly when he sees Santiago coming through the sliding doors after customs. He and Mia went to greet him at the airport, and have been waiting a little out of the way, Mia in his arms, holding a sign they made together displaying "Bienvenido, Tío Santi! [Welcome, uncle Santi!]"
"Frankie, it's so good to see you! Mia, ¡princesa! ¡Has crecido un montón desde la última vez que te vi!"[Princess! You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you]
But Mia is a little shy, she hasn't seen her uncle in 6 months, and even if she remembers him and has talked with him on FaceTime many times, she still feels a little apprehensive.
"Muñequita, ¿puedes decir hola a tu tío? [Sweetie, can you say hi to your uncle?]" Frankie murmurs in her ear when he senses her discomfort, her head buried in the crook of his neck. She starts by shaking her head, but Frankie gently rubs her back to comfort her, and she eventually turns her head to look at the adult standing in front of her with a kind smile and manages a timid "Holà tío."
"Did you make this pretty sign for me? Can I see it?" Santi asks kindly, reverting to English in case it helps the little girl. She hands him the sign, which is now all crumbled from the motion she made to hide in her father's arms, and he compliments her, admiring the drawings she made around the words that Frankie wrote. "It's beautiful. Can I keep it?"
"Yes." Her shyness is slowly ebbing away from the kind words she received.
"I'm going to cherish it. Let me put it in my bag to keep it safe," Santi reverently folds the sign and puts it away.
Frankie can't help the fatherly pride he feels watching his daughter overcome her shyness. He wouldn't have pushed her, but he wants to make sure she is comfortable. And soon, as they walk toward the car, Mia is babbling away while Santi asks her questions, and the sound of their laughs combined makes Frankie's heart swell with content.
After arriving home and putting Mia to sleep for her afternoon nap, the two friends finally settle outside to catch up. They are sitting on the back porch, watching the water, coffee in hand, the sliding doors behind him open, in case Mia calls for him.
"Have you taken Mia on the boat yet?" Santi breaks the silence that until then was only disturbed by the distinctive song of a <type of bird>.
"No, I'm afraid she's too little. I don't think I can sail and watch out for her at the same time."
"What if we went together? Just a small trip on the bay to see if she enjoys it? That way you can finally put your sailing license to the test."
"I've sailed plenty, thank you very much. But yeah, that would be great." It puts Frankie at ease, knowing he can count on his friend for a few weeks. Not that he couldn't have asked Will, Benny, or Tom. But he knows how Will and Benny are busy, and he doesn't trust Tom on a boat yet. And having Santi at home, it's different, it's showing his daughter what true friendship is like, and also knowing she will be spoiled rotten by her tio. Of course, the best way he can show his appreciation is by saying, "So, when are you finally getting your own place?"
"I'm barely here, and you are already kicking me out?" Thankfully, his friend knows exactly what these words mean, especially when they are underlined by a squeeze on the shoulder.
"I have a few places I need to look at, see if the pictures are true." He trails a bit before adding, with something like awe in his voice, "Yovanna wants to go back to school. She started a nursing degree in Australia, and she wants to finish it here and eventually specialize to become a Midwife. She's already in touch with the school, so I'm here to look for a place close by." The smile on his face tells Frankie that his friend is finally letting himself be happy.
"How about the money?" They never really speak about that, and Frankie knows Santi isn't reckless, but he wants to make sure his friend is doing well, see if he can help in any way.
"I'm fine, don't worry. I took plenty of well-paid contracts and barely touched the money. I have plenty to get us a good place, even something for Yov's brother; he still hasn't decided if he wants to come. I have everything sorted immigration wise, so we should be good. "
"What about you? What are you going to do?"
"Honestly?" The sigh Santi lets out holds a lot: uncertainty, even some shame. "I don't know, whatever I can help with. I'm tired of moving around, chasing guys, but I don't know what else to do. Are you hiring?" Santi's eyes turn expectant.
Frankie laughs. "I don't really know what the hell you could do there. But I can look around if I hear about anything that could fit. Maybe ask Will and Benny, they might have an idea. And they know a lot more people than I do."
"Thanks, I need to find something. I can't stay idle, it'll kill me." The desperation in his words is palpable. All of them have had action ingrained in their habits for so long that even if they had the money to do nothing, none of them really could. Frankie was the perfect example.
"Believe me, I get it. It almost did for me." He will always feel shame for the few months when they got back from Colombia, the moment that changed everything, his own life being at the forefront of the list of things he could have lost.
"Mi llave [my friend], I think you were a warning for all of us." Santi squeezes Frankie's shoulder. "But you are also the strongest, Frankie. And I hope you never forget it."
Frankie snorts dismissively. Yeah right, none of you are addicts." But Santi shakes his head, his hand still on Frankie's shoulder, not letting go.
"We all carry something from our years of service, and we all have our own form of addiction. Do you think me running around the world, trying to set things right, was healthy? You and Will are the ones who showed us the way. Showed us there is a life outside of our own trauma. Look at Benny with his fighting. And now his training, he seems to need the adrenaline of the fight. And Tom with his ventures–"
"And his drinking." Frankie cuts in; at one point the guys need to see it's a problem.
"That bad?"
"He says he stopped, but doesn't want to get any help. So I'm not very sure."
"Shit…" Santi shakes his head, but isn't deterred from his speech. "Well anyway, what you overcome is more than any of us could have done. And we all looked up to you when we saw you struggling and succeeding. I know I did. I always will."
Frankie feels his throat constrict, emotions swelling his heart, he's about to deny it, try to say something, but Santi cuts him.
"Don't. It's just the way it is." Frankie nods, finally accepting it.
"So, tell me more about your pretty meteorologist. Have you gotten better at flirting?"
"Vete a la mierda [Fuck off]."
"No? Come on! Tell me!"
"It's just that I'm technically her boss, even if she doesn't know that. And even if I am just a coworker, it can still be an issue."
"Fuck that, don't try to find excuses!"
Thankfully, a loud"Daaaaaaaaad" saves Frankie from finding an answer.
Another week ends, and you are already at Joe's securing a table, waiting for your colleagues to unwind after a stressful few days, the last of the summer storms making everyone's work more difficult.
You know Frankie is flying and will join you soon. Alysha, being on vacation this week, picked up the sunset tour he usually forgoes in the weeks he has Mia, but he mentioned having a friend to help. Colin would join you later, from a meeting downtown. Joan had promised to arrive soon, she wanted to finish sorting out the archives room before leaving for the weekend.
As you are waiting with your drink, sitting at what you now think of as your favorite table, you get a text from Colin saying his meeting is running late and he won't be able to make it. Almost at the same time, Joan announces she has a personal emergency, a friend needing her support. Fred had declined, having already plans, which meant that you were about to end up alone with Frankie. Which makes you feel very nervous. Despite how cool you acted with Di, you are very flustered at the idea of being alone with him. Part of you is excited at the prospect, and part dreads it, wanting nothing more than to run away.
Before you can text him to let him know, wanting to give him the choice to cancel, Frankie shows up, a drink in his hand, and sits in front of you with a large smile. The water to his back, and the light from the setting sun, shines softly, highlighting the brown of his hair and his golden skin. Your heart flutters at the sight, and you are speechless for a second, admiring him in the glow of the evening. Until Frankie asks, "Where is everyone?"
"Oh, they just all texted to cancel. I was about to tell you in case you wanted to…" You let your voice trail, not knowing how to finish.
"Oh!" he seems a little caught off guard, but soon an easy smile spreads on his face. "Their loss, I'm happy to have a drink after the week we had."
"You mean the weather? Or is there something else?"
"My whole life! As I mentioned, I have a friend over for a few weeks. I love him, and it's great to have him over, but he spoils Mia and makes my life difficult." You can tell from his tone that he is, in fact, very happy and loves every moment.
"I'm sure you hate it." You tease, and he answers in the same tone.
"Yeah, it's really the worst." He grins at you and starts regaling you with tales of the latest mischief Mia and his friend, whom he calls alternatively Santi, Santiago, and Pope, until you have to ask him if it is indeed talking about the same person.
"Sorry, Pope is his call sign, from the army, his name is Santiago, Santi is what we usually call him."
"You have a call sign? What is it?"
"Catfish." He seems a little embarrassed, which prompts you to ask more questions.
"Why? Because you are a good swimmer? For the whiskers?" Each time he shakes his head, smiling, but refusing to give you any indication.
"It's a whole story, and maybe one day you'll earn it." Frankie finally relents, but refuses to say more when you beg and even ask what you need to do to earn the privilege of hearing the story.
It feels like the best date you've had in years. Except it isn't one. It's just a drink between two colleagues who are maybe also friends, and who might both be attracted to each other.
You know your attraction is getting stronger, but on his side? It's still hard to know. You suspect there is, by the way he looks at you, something. But the conversation always stays on safe topics, such as work, books, movies, food, his daughter. Never about past relationships, never any innuendo that would be borderline flirting. Yet you can feel something in the air, it's almost tangible. There is attraction, you are almost sure. It makes you want to seek more, leave the status quo, and see if there is something and where it could lead you both.
But it's getting late, so tonight won't be the night. Tonight you enjoy the end of your drink, laughing and saying goodbye a little awkwardly by your cars, a hand wave, almost turning into a handshake, when it's clear both of you wanted to hug.
"Have you met up with the guys yet?" Frankie asks Santi over dinner.
"Not yet. I had both Benny and Will on the phone. Benny mentioned there was a fight next week, a guy he's been training for some time. He said we could all meet there."
"When will it be?"
"Saturday night, fight starts at 8 PM."
"Sounds good, I can make it. Mia will be with her mom that night."
"Great! Just like old times."
Frankie can't help but remember the last time they all went together to a fight, when Benny was still competing. The moment when Santi came to ask them for their help. And judging from Santi's face, he is also remembering that same moment. When asking for help for a recon mission turned into
And even if they are mostly all doing well, sometimes Frankie wonders if he had the chance, would he do it again? Is money worth what happened to them? The guilt, the way it broke the dynamic of their friendship? He doesn't have an answer.
"What are you doing next Saturday?" Di doesn't even say hello when you answer your phone, straight to business, as always.
"Eating pizza while I watch a movie probably. Why?"
"Do you want to see two men beat the shit out of each other?"
"That sounds very appealing."
"Yeah, I know, but think of the smell of sweat and stale beer!"
"You know the way to my heart."
"Benny will be there."
"Now you got me interested!"
"I told you he was training a guy, well, next Saturday is his first fight since he got into training. I know it's not really our scene, but his brother and his other friends will be there. I thought it could be a good opportunity for everyone to meet. Without the pressure of a dinner or a drink at the bar."
"Of course I'll come! I'm not letting you have all the fun alone. Plus I'm curious, I've never been to a fight. I don't know if I'm going to like it, but at least I'll have tried!"
"Great, I'll send you the details!"
Spanish translation:
muñeca/muñequita: literally doll, sweetie
Mi llave: my friend (literally my key), Colombian
Vete a la mierda: Go to hell, Fuck off
taglist - Please let me know if you want to be removed it's not a problem, or if you want to be added: @iknowisoundcrazyreads @lillaydee @littlemisspascal @harriedandharassed @sunnytuliptime @picketniffler @sawymredfox @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @half-moon16 @sin-djarin @hanahleah @missadangel @simpingforjoel @aurorawritestoescape @kirsteng42 @annwrites24 @vodkaandpizza @quinnnfabrgay @littlepedrito @petalsinblood @savedyounine @isabellaboo2025 @copperhalfcent @the-blind-assassin-12 @madpanda75 @anoverwhelmingdin @inept-the-magnificent @perpetualharpyresonance @ashleyfilm
Catching up with this story today and this chapter was such a treat! I love the friendship between Di and Reader so so much. I love that their friendship, at least the depth of it, seems to mirror the same level of friendship between Frankie and Santi (et all). It’s great that they both get to come to this “maybe something more” thing they’ve got going on with someone(s) already in their corner.
The convo between Di and Reader was sweet if not a little heartbreaking to know how broken up Di is about Reader’s divorce and what it means for her idea of what a happy, successful marriage or long term relationship looks like. I think Reader is right though, about how it can still be a model for her. Just because something doesn’t last forever doesn’t mean it wasn’t good, and the way they split was so amicable. It was a good example of how the end of a relationship doesn’t have to mean total devastation to your life.
Moreover! Reader is totally hot for Frankie and Di (and I) knows it!!
I adored the scene with Frankie and Mia picking Santi up at the airport. That little girl is going to be so spoiled and I love that for her. Also, imagining Frankie sailing always makes me smile. You can’t tell me he’s not just as capable on a boat as he is in the air. (Competency kink dialed up to 11)
Their little date that wasn’t a date but felt like a date!!! Their easy conversation!! The awkward ending where they both wanted hugs but didn’t know what to do about it! Oh these two are cooked.
I cannot wait to see what happens when the whole gang gets together!
Thank you to everyone who has participated in this challenge so far, whether you’ve finished your submission or you’re still working on it! I hope you’re having fun either way! I’ll be adding them all here as they roll in (but no pressure, the timeline is infinite!) so make sure to tag me so I can read and add your fic!
Din Djarin
Within Reach by @din-cognito
Ficlet #1 by @chiyo13
Life is Sweet by @jobean12-blog
A Dangerous Game by @jobean12-blog
Joel Miller
The Tomato Queen of the Apocalypse Meets the Most Handsome Scowl on Earth by @the-blind-assassin-12
Flustered by @newpathwrites
Sight of Love by @sawymredfox
Nowhere Else I’d Rather Be by @hauntedisthepen
Javi G.
Find A Man Who Can Do Both by @grogusmum
Frankie Morales
Obsessed by @aurorawritestoescape (feat. Joel Miller)
summary: feeling suffocated within the walls of Jackson, you volunteer to go on a scavenging trip, but what you haven't anticipated, was Joel's reaction. when he went and persuaded the Council to let him lead the trip – confrontation is inevitable.
pairing: joel miller x reader
warnings: hurt/comfort, miscommunication, depression
word count: 1.1k
a/n: this is written for the "a picture is worth 1000 words" writing challenge hosted by @the-blind-assassin-12. this is also my first time publishing a fic! english is not my first language, please be kind, and enjoy <3
read on ao3
"We'll stop here for the night."
When the Council Members had proposed a scavenging trip to Arizona, you didn't hesitate to sign up. Beside the patrol shifts every now and then, you don't really get to be outside of the walls of Jackson very often. So when an opportunity presented itself, you jumped at it.
What you haven't anticipated, was Joel's reaction.
In anger, frustration. In words that should never have been uttered. In thoughts that should never have crossed his mind.
Hence your current not-talking-to-each-other situation, but damn this man because he's nothing but not loyal, who went and persuaded the Council into letting him lead this trip.
Now, with the setting sun and tall red sandstones in the distance, your team of four starts to settle in at the little cabin you'd come across in the middle of nowhere at the Utah-Arizona border.
With Isa and Nick making dinner and Joel doing another perimeter check around the property, you step outside the cabin in search of a quiet moment with the elements surrounding you.
Leaning on the wooden railing, you run your fingers absentmindedly over the cowboy hat perched on the post next to you. Just as you are contemplating how to talk to Joel so the rest of the trip won't be as unpleasant as the beginning of it, he suddenly appears in your periphery as if your thoughts have summoned him.
Not having found the words yet, not when his harsh words are still reverberating in your head since he's uttered them into existence, you wait for him to be the one to break the silence. Or to run away from it.
After a beat, he sighs. "Look… I ain't good at this… talking." Afraid of being met with your rejection if he reaches out to you, he gingerly approaches the wooden railing , "I'm sorry. I–"
Sometimes Joel feels like he doesn't know how to be happy anymore. That's what the apocalypse does to you, isn't it? When something good finally happens to you, all you can do is to wait for the carpet to be pulled from under you because it simply feels too good to be true.
Though oftentimes, he discovers that it's his own self-destructive tendencies that are responsible for ruining whatever good thing he has miraculously found, and that there's no one to blame but himself.
What Joel doesn't know, is that that's exactly how you feel, too.
"I didn't mean what I said before we left," he pleads, wishing he can convey verbally even a fraction of the misery that he'd been in in your absence. "I just want you to be safe and… the thought of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger–"
Then silence settles over you again as he struggles to find the right words.
After a beat, you decide to meet him half way, "you know why I signed up for this trip?"
Sensing it's a rhetorical question, Joel doesn't dare make a sound, so he shakes his head and waits for you to open up to him at your own pace.
"I feel like I'm dying in Jackson."
You're speaking so softly that it's as if you're confessing to yourself and not just to him. Taking a deep breath to gather your courage, you continue.
"Every day is the same. Wake up. Work at the mess hall kitchen. Eat. Shower. Sleep. Yesterday is the same as today is the same as tomorrow. Well, except for the patrol shifts that's few and far between.
"I know I'm not the best shot, but I know how to survive. In the QZ. Out in the wild. On patrol. But in Jackson? Where nothing ever happens, and obviously I don't actually want anything to happen, but–
"I can't sit still during the day and I can't sleep through the night. If I'm not moving, looking out for dangers or fighting for my life, I don't feel alive.
"And I wish I could give a shit about being a cook — but I don't. I just don't. And I don't know if there's any other jobs that wouldn't make me feel like I'm a walking corpse–
"I– I just don't know how to live. I don't know how to fucking live–"
At the sound of your voice breaking, Joel doesn't hesitate to close the distance between you this time and crush you into his chest.
He's not sure what to say to make you feel better, so he does what words are failing him right now — he wraps you up in his arms as tightly as he can to let you know that he is right there for you, and kisses you sweetly on the top of your head.
Melting into the safety of Joel's embrace, you let his physical presence ground you to this little moment. All you can feel is him — his muscles beneath your palms, his collarbone against your nose, his shoulder against your cheek.
There is no safer place to be than right here in his arms. This man is your rock, your shelter, your… the love of your life. At what moment did you lose sight of that all you cannot recall, but feeling his body against yours like this reminds you that you can always ask him for help — that you should have asked him for help, instead of running away from him.
Pressing another kiss to your hair, Joel breaks the silence, "we're gonna get through this together, ok? We'll figure it out." He can feel you nodding against his chest, and pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes, "but you have to tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, promise?"
You keep nodding, knowing that your voice would betray you if you speak.
"You know, I just remembered that Tommy kept bugging me to get an assistant for the construction office, someone to keep the papers organized and whatnot," Joel arches his brow at you, "and I can think of a few benefits, too, since that would mean working in the same room as me."
At his not-so-subtle insinuation you smack him playfully on his chest, laughing through teary eyes, "Joel Miller, I am not working for you. And dating the assistant? Cliché much?"
"Ouch, I thought you'd be happy to see me every day."
Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips this time, he wraps his arms around your waist, and rests his forehead against yours. "Just don't run away from me again, baby. Next time there's a problem, you run to me, ok?"
Nuzzling his nose with yours lovingly, you whisper, "promise."
Congrats on posting your first fic!! That’s amazing, and you should be super proud of yourself for taking the plunge! 🥳
I loved your take on how the consistency and safety and repetition of life in Jackson could become suffocating and limiting over time. Especially for someone who came late to the party and has spent a lot of time in survival mode, staying alert and never getting too comfortable.
And I can absolutely see that being a difficult conversation with Joel. Or at least one that isn’t easy to bring up without worrying about him misunderstanding. Of course he’s going to insist on leading that trip though. Of course he’s gonna go and make sure that Reader is safe. And I love that about him so much.
This bit stood out to me in a heartbreakingly real way:
I’m so happy that they were able to work in out and that Reader ended up where they’re safest and happiest- in Joel’s arms. The little teasing moment at the end there had me smiling. I mean hey, Reader did say they were unhappy at their current job, right?
Thanks so much for joining this challenge and for writing and sharing such a great little story! 🧡
I inadvertently went missing again, and in the last two week or so I was tagged in this game by *big breath in* @sawymredfox @vodkaandpizza @din-cognito @grogusmum @oonajaeadira @insomniamamma & @keldabe-kriff (blessed be the bovine, that was a lot of tags!) Thank you all for still wanting to know what I'm working on, even though I've been slowly toiling away on the same few stories in my cave of solitude for several weeks. I promise I'll emerge soon with treats.
Since I let so many tags pile up, I'm gonna post last lines for more than one of my most recent wips. Sticking them under a cut for mystery reasons.
from Skira part 5:
His fingers curled around your hips to stop you from pulling away. “It’s okay,” he assured you, though the strain in his tone said otherwise. You felt his stunted breath hit your scalp, and then he kissed the crown of your head. “I’ll be alright, I promise.”
Before either of you could say anything else, you were interrupted by the harsh, robotic voice of a KX droid. “You have four hours. Do not attempt to leave these quarters without escort back to the barracks or you will be neutralized.”
---
from a still untitled installment of A Friend of A Friend:
Once, when she was in like third or fourth grade, her class got to watch some super old cartoon where the bad guy had this ridiculous handlebar mustache that he would twirl when he was up to no good. She imagined this was what that guy must’ve felt like as the grin curved up the side of her face and Joel’s went almost as red as the tomatoes in your greenhouse. Pure satisfaction.
And hey, she had gotten the shortest end of any stick ever, so she didn’t feel the slightest bit bad about reaping some kind of reward from Joel’s discomfort. Not after he’d made her feel no more important than a sack of potatoes or a bag of batteries.
You asked for this, dude.
---
from Second Chances part 4
“Once, sometimes twice a month we have a local groomer come out with a mobile setup to take care of haircuts and nail trims,” he explained. “But when these monsters inevitably get into something and waiting for the groomer isn’t an option, this is where we bring them to get cleaned up.”
You peeked into the room. It was equipped with two bath stations that had ramps leading into the basin portion so that the dogs could be walked in instead of needing to be lifted, as well as a pole where a leash could be attached to keep the animal still for the duration. The room was tiled top to bottom, and the several large drains drilled directly into the floor gave you the impression that water rarely stayed in the tubs despite the accommodations that were supposed to make bath time simpler.
Copter shoved his head between your leg and Frankie’s so that he could inspect the room, too, his unwillingness to be left out of anything making you laugh. “Oh, like you don’t know what happens in here, mister,” Frankie joked sarcastically, gripping Copter’s collar and pulling him away from the door so he could close it. “This one’s our worst offender,” he told you, pointing down at the dog. “Just yesterday he knocked Ben’s smoothie right outta his hand and guess where it landed?”
---
tagging: @bergamote-catsandbooks @partyypoisons @djarins-cyare @littlemisspascal @beefrobeefcal @writeforfandoms @all-the-things-2020 & anyone else who wants to show off what they're working on!
AN: in this post @sin-djarin posed the question and @the-blind-assassin-12 had excellent takes on the other PPCU boys. And @maggiemayhemnj was 100% right, given the option Javier Peña would prefer to just wait in the car.... this Javier didn't get that option... so without further ado...
Javier Peña Goes to Ikea
“I can’t believe there isn’t a more efficient way to get through this fucking place.” Javier grumbled as they landed at the top of the escalader. Bright yellow arrows pointed cheerily to the first of many, many, showrooms.
“Well, I suppose we could have just looked online and then given our order at the end.” His youngest daughter, Hels suggested helpfully.
“I suggested that.” He grumbled. He’d not only suggested it, he had printed out options of each item required and pinned it to his corkboard in his home office, complete with colour options and prices. Anything to avoid this.
But when he showed his wife, Ana, she said tactfully. “This is great research baby,” for one perfect shining second, he thought he was off the hook, “but I still need to see what we’re getting.” Fuck.
So, there they were at 10am in Berkely, California walking through an elaborate maze that Javier was certain had been expressly designed by Swedish intelligence officers as some sort of social experiment designed to torture fathers with college aged children. As if sending his baby girl three states away wasn’t cruel enough.
So that morning Javier grumbled as he slid a short pencil behind his ear, wishing it was a cigarette instead.
“If you’d like,” Ana said cooly, too busy to indulge her petulant husband, “we can leave you in the playroom, with the rest of the children if you intend to pout this entire time.”
“No mi reina, I’m sorry, let’s get this over with.”
By the time they’d gone through the kitchen and living room showrooms, Javier’s eyes were darting around looking for an exit sign, as though he were a caged beast, “How big is this fucking place? This has to be the near the end right?”
“Javi, have you never actually been to an Ikea before?” Ana asked. They’d shopped for their house furniture at far nicer places, investing in pieces that would last for their cheerful San Antonio home. And truth be told, Javier had always just bought what Ana said would be best anyway. She had great taste and it minimized the time in the store. The only time he was remotely interested in a piece of furniture they bought, it was so he could plan what way he might be able to ravish his wife on top of it once they brought it home.
Shopping for his 17-year-old daughter’s dorm room furniture, Javier was very much hoping absolutely NO ravishing would be done on the items they purchased that day. He eyed the pressed manufactured wood. The good news there was that he doubted the cheap collage furniture would be up to the task. Was there a bed that could automatically collapse if more than one person was on it at a time?
Javier stood hand on hip as he watched his wife and daughter discuss the pros and cons of each single bed. Then sighed quietly while they went over what comforter and sheets paired best together.
“Javi! Did you hear me?” Ana, he realized, was staring at him.
“Sorry, I was looking at this…” he lifted the tag on the nearest bed frame, “KL- KELPSTAAD?”
“Well, we’re going to go with the HERMANS it’s a little bit more expensive, but it seems more sturdy, we wouldn’t want it to break, and it has drawers for more storage underneath.”
Javier pinched the crown of his brow, “Great.”
“Anyway, I said we’ll grab lunch now.”
He brightened up instantly, freedom! He couldn’t believe they were getting out of the already. Though it had already been nearly two fucking hours or torture. “Okay what do we feel like, Italian, Mexican, Chinese…”
“Swedish meatballs.” Hels said cheerfully.
Javier heart sank as they turned the corner to the in-store restaurant, “I can’t believe there’s a fucking restaurant in the middle of a fucking furniture store.” This place really was a Swedish fucking prison.
P.S. He liked the meatballs but he wouldn't admit it.
Materlist
If you want to know how the rest of the college drop off week went I wrote this one shot of them dropping their daughter off at her dorm then going for a little vacation in San Francisco (it get spicy once they ditch the kid😏): With Somebody Who Loves You
Hahahaha oh Javi, this truly would be a nightmare experience for him, for all the reasons.
This was fun, even if it was torture for him. Him wondering if there was a bad that would automatically collapse if it detected more than one person in it 😅 that feels very right.
Ghosts has been on my TBR for a while and this little drabble just made me want to read it even more.
I think if I wanted to have a silly good time and play around in all the room setups I’d take Dieter. I can see it being like that scene in 500 days of summer (without the heartbreak at the end of it though).
If I wanted help actually choosing pieces to furnish my house in a stylish manner though, I think Marcus Pike would be a good candidate. I feel like he knows his way around a yörgeshplend (I made that up but in my mind it’s a coffee table).
I would definitely not bring Joel because I can already hear him saying that he could build half of that stuff from better materials without struggling to read the little Swedish comics aka instructions.
Author's Note: When I decided to join in on @beefrobeefcal's Glandalorian 2024 challenge (which was putting Din Djarin in a gladiatorial setting, including a specific phrase, and somehow referencing Dieter Bravo) I thought, foolishly, that I could write a quick little one shot. Well, first, admittedly, I thought I was nuts for wanting to do this because I've struggled with writing lately and because I never feel super confident writing Din. But after I reconciled with the fact that I had indeed lost my mind, I thought this would be brief. It's not. And I'm not sorry. I am, however, thankful for this challenge, because it absolutely helped get the creative juices flowing again! This part is truly just a set up for what's to come, and doesn't directly have any of the prompts in it - but I can promise you that they will show up in part two (posting Friday, Nov. 29th!)
Word Count: 4,248
Warnings: canon-typical violence
Summary: Skira is Mando'a for revenge - with a personal edge.
Nevarro
You stared out the window of the cabin, watching the crisp, clean bed sheets you’d been hanging on the clothesline flap and flutter in the dry breeze. The woven laundry basket you’d used to carry them had fallen over on its side, another still-damp sheet spilling out onto the ashy ground. A frown drew your lips downward as you focused on the dark gray smudges that the previously clean linen had already collected. Well, that one’s ruined.
Maybe it was silly, having a thought like that in a situation like the one you were in. But it was all you could do to keep the panic from overtaking you, so you honed in on the mundane, frown deepening. I wanted them to be clean for when he came home, but now-
THUD!
The slam of a tightly balled fist on the table in front of you made you gasp and jump, your head whipping around to face the threat you’d been trying to block out.
“Answer the karking question, poppet.” The Abyssin sneered at you from across the table. His oversized thugs hovered behind him, their hands resting on the holsters of their blasters to remind you that all it would take was one word from their boss and you’d be done for.
Like I need reminding.
The tip of your tongue slid across your split lower lip, finding a trickle of blood from where you’d caught a backhand when you were trying to escape the strangers who had attacked your home. You knew quite well what men like them were capable of. Their little show of power was unnecessary. You’d been acutely aware of the danger you were in from the moment they appeared on the property. That didn’t mean that you wanted to give them the satisfaction of showing them any fear, though.
You swallowed and put all of your effort into keeping your voice even as you blinked at your captor. “Sorry, I was distracted by…” You lifted one hand to point at the discarded sheets, the binders around your wrists forcing the other hand to rise with it. Shaking your head, you sighed. “Can you repeat your question?”
The Abbysin, who had introduced himself to you as Kol Karesh while his men had dragged you by your bound wrists and dumped you into the chair you were sitting in, growled in frustration. “The Mandalorian,” he hissed, palms flat against the table as he leaned across it to get closer to you. “Where is the Mandalorian that killed my brother?”
Furrowing your brow, you decided to make your only move - a bluff. “Mandalorian?” You shook your head in question, doubling down on your gamble. “I… I think you’ve got the wrong place. Maybe even the wrong planet. I’ve never even seen-”
Your lie was cut short when the gruff gangster’s meaty hand shot across the table to snatch the pendant hanging from your neck. He gave it a sharp yank, tugging you down so that your face came within a hair of hitting the table’s edge. You let out a yelp, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Don’t play games with me, sweetheart.” Reaching behind you with his other hand, Kol snapped the leather string and came away with it. You picked your head up as soon as you could, your heart sinking as you watched the beskar Mudhorn charm dangle from his grip. “I know what this is. And I know who gave it to you.” He dropped the pendant and it landed on the table, your eyes glued to the shape of the signet as you fought to hold back tears. “And I know that if you won’t tell me where he is…” You looked up, and the grin that filled the Abyssin’s pause made your stomach turn. “I can use you to make him come to me.”
The goons crowding your small kitchen laughed at that, Karesh turning towards them to join in. But he spun back around as you spoke, none of the feigned naivete remaining in your voice.
“Are you sure you want that?” It was your turn to let out a small chuckle even as you lost the battle and a lone tear slipped past your eyelid. “You must really miss your brother if you’re so eager to join him.” You laughed again, and you could tell the sound of it - along with what you were saying - was getting to Karesh from the way his face fell into a scowl. “He’s going to kill you. You know that?” You leaned to the left so you could see around your captor to make eye contact with his men. “All of you.”
Karesh just clicked his tongue. “You underestimate me. See, I’ve got a plan.” He stepped around to your side of the table to give your cheek a pat, the contact making you flinch. “As long as I’ve got you, I’m in charge. I’ve made a lot of money by figuring out how to control people. The key,” he said, crossing his arms over his belly, “Is in pinpointing their weakness.” He jerked his chin down at the table, at the pendant Din gave you when he asked you to be his, and then looked back at you. “You’re the Mandalorian’s weakness. And that’s why you’re coming with us, poppet.”
With that, he barked orders to his henchmen, and you were hauled out of the cabin and thrown on the back of a speeder.
“Don’t even think about trying to run.” The biggest of Kol’s men, a heavily tattooed Quarren with a scar digging through one side of his face, sneered down at you from beside the speeder. You followed the movement of his hand as he used it to tap his holster again. “Boss just said I gotta get you back to his place alive.” The gnarled tentacles surrounding his mouth fluttered as he blew air through them in a humorless snort. “Didn’t say I couldn’t blast your kneecaps, though. So don’t make me have’ta do that. Understand?”
Running would have been pointless anyway. The town was too far to reach on foot before nightfall, and the lava flats were prime reptavian hunting grounds after dark. Maybe you’d have a chance if you had a weapon. But bound and unarmed? It was a fool’s mission and you knew it.
You gave him a curt nod, upper lip curled in disgust as you turned your head to look back at the cabin. What is he still doing in there? Karesh had yet to come outside, and your stomach turned at the thought of that scum inside your home. But then his squat shape filled the door frame and he strode smugly to where you and his crew were waiting.
“Just had to take care of one last thing.” He climbed onto the back of the second speeder. “Needed to make sure the Mandalorian gets my invitation.” Kol stared directly at you as he continued. “And that he knows what will happen if he declines it.”
At that, he laughed, shouting to his men to get to the ship, and then the speeders revved up and you were in motion. You kept your eyes on the fluttering white sheets until they shrunk from view. Silent, angry tears burned tracks down your cheeks as one thought repeated in your mind.
He’ll come for me.
You’d never been more sure of anything in your life.
He’ll come for me. And they’ll be sorry.
– – –
Mandalore
“Okay, kid. We’re coming up on Mandalore. You remember the landing sequence I taught you back on Garel?”
Din’s focus shifted from the steel gray planet outside the viewport, to the child in his lap. A pair of big, green ears flopped with the nod of Grogu’s head, a confident “patu” accompanying the movement. Removing one clawed hand from the steering device, he pointed at the panel that housed the landing controls.
That’s right. “Go ahead, then,” Din encouraged, a proud smile curving his lips beneath his helmet. “Bring us down.”
Grogu responded with a squeal of excitement - the same way he had every time he’d been asked to demonstrate what he’d learned on their trip - before he began performing his task. The two of them had been out on a series of training missions to prepare Grogu for his trials, Din mentoring him and teaching him the same things his own father taught him in preparation for the verd’goten. He’s doing a lot better than I did on my first training mission, though. Letting out a satisfied trill when he finished with the controls, Grogu returned his tiny hands to the steering wheel and began piloting the N-1 down through the atmosphere.
“Go slow,” Din cautioned him, the advice only partially sinking in, as the kid only had two speeds - fast, and asleep. Or don’t.
Despite the fact that it happened more quickly than was standard for a first time navigator, Grogu managed to set the ship down on the landing platform safely and skillfully.
“Brreee? Patu! Patu!” The grin that greeted Din when he looked down was as wide as he’d ever seen Grogu wear. Proud of yourself, huh? The kid stood in his lap and turned, placing both hands on the sides of the man’s helmet, delighted giggles bubbling out of him to pull a chuckle from Din’s chest. Good. You should be.
“Good job, Grogu.” Reaching past the kid, he flicked the ignition switch to shut it down. “I’m proud of you.” Those seemed to be the exact words that the kid was waiting for, his whole face lighting up with even more excitement when he heard them. “I’m sure the Armorer will be, too. What do you say we go and tell her all about the things you learned?”
Grogu nodded vigorously, sending his ears flapping again. “Doo.” Countering with a question of his own, he cocked his head to the side and used one pointed claw to tap at the beskar rondel that he wore, causing Din to let out another chuckle.
“I don’t know, pal, we have to see what she says. You might not be ready for your next piece of armor yet.” His ears drooped slightly at that, the sight sending a surge of affection through Din’s whole being. He wants to earn his helmet so badly. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. Remember what I told you when we were practicing tracking?” Giving the kid a second to think back to their training mission on Lothal, he paused, waiting for Grogu’s ears to twitch as he found the right memory. “Patience is important. You can’t rush things, or they won’t work out.” Lifting one leather-clad hand, he patted his son’s head. “You’ll earn your armor one piece at a time, just like I did. Then, when the time is right, you’ll have the chance to swear the Creed. And when you do, I’ll be there just like my Buir was.”
The thought of having his own helmet ceremony - and taking the Creed - seemed to perk Grogu right up. Spinning back towards the controls, he pressed another button before zipping back around to face his father while pointing backwards at the holo-screen that he activated. When he glanced over the kid’s head to see what was displayed, Din felt yet another surge of warmth. It was an image of you and Grogu, the two of you sitting outside the cabin on Nevarro, the little womp rat in your lap and bright grins on both of your faces.
“That’s right, she’ll be there, too.” Din nodded. “And she’ll be so proud of you, just like I am.” She already is. The fact that you loved and supported Grogu just as much as he did was one of the many things that made Din so sure that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
For a long time he doubted that settling down and building a home and a family were in the cards for him. But it wasn’t just that he had spent so many years on his own that gave him pause. It was also because of what those years had been filled with that made him question whether or not a simpler life was even possible for him. Decades of bounty hunting had garnered him countless enemies within the galaxy’s underworld, and from time to time those enemies surfaced. Subjecting a partner or child to the consequences of his past seemed cruel and irresponsible in his mind. Better that he handle those threats as they come the same way he handled the jobs they emerged from. On his own, with no one else at risk.
All of that changed when the tiny quarry-turned-adoptive son that was sitting in his lap and hanging on his every word came into his life. Din had tried to find the kid a safe place to grow up, to have the sort of childhood that he himself had been denied. He had tried finding others who he felt would be more able to give Grogu a stable, secure home, or who he thought would be better suited to teach the child what he needed to learn. A life on the road, with danger constantly close behind and a man who had closed himself off far more than his armor ever could? That was no life for a kid. That was no environment in which love could thrive.
Which was exactly why, once Grogu had made his choice clear, Din discarded his former life and began work on this new one. He’d sworn off chasing bounties, dropped out of isolation, tried his hardest to file down his sharp edges, all so that he could give the kid the life he deserved and wanted. And in doing so, he’d met you, and despite the things he previously thought would make him unchoosable, he’d been chosen a second time.
“Your past doesn’t scare me, Din,” you’d said, when he confided in you about the things that he worried could come back to haunt him and hurt you. You’d laced your fingers with his then, your gaze focused on his shrouded eyes, and even though he knew you couldn’t see through his visor, he felt as though you were looking straight into his heart. “I’m more afraid of a future without you. I know you’ll always keep me safe. And I know that there’s nothing that you and I can’t get through together.” The smile you gave him cracked through the rest of his dwindling reserve before you added - “Well, the two of us and Grogu, of course.”
He had decided that night that he would do whatever it took to make sure that your fear never came to fruition - and that meant taking you as his riduur. You weren’t Mandalorian, and you had no plans to change that. You weren’t a warrior, you didn’t wear armor, and you had never even held a blaster before he taught you how to use one. But none of that mattered to Din. He loved you for what and who you were. You were brave, and strong, and you made him feel like he deserved the life he was carving out for himself. You were smart, and kind, and you brought warmth to parts of him that he’d thought had frozen over ages ago. And if he could put your fears to rest by joining his life with yours, then he would. Without hesitation.
Because it’s what I want, too.
When you said yes, when he saw you wearing the Mudhorn pendant - his sigil, and soon to be yours - for the first time? Between that moment and the one when Grogu had formally become his child, Din had never felt so far from his past as he had then. Every step the three of you had taken since had only put more distance between his former life and the one you were building together.
The plan was for the two of you to have a small ceremony on Mandalore once Grogu finished the first year of his training - which was quickly coming to an end - and it was nearly impossible to tell which of the three of you was looking forward to that milestone the most. I think it might be me, though. As he helped Grogu down from the cockpit and waved to the armored teens who had been tasked with refueling all incoming ships, he found his mind wandering to the things that would change with the exchanging of vows.
That your two souls would be joined as one was, of course, the most important aspect, and the one that mattered most to him. But it also meant that he would finally be able to reveal his face to you. It meant that for the first time, you would get to see him - the small shifts of depth and color in his eyes when he smiled or laughed or said your name, the creases that formed between his brows when he was concerned, the twitch of his upper lip when you touched him. It meant removing the only remaining barrier between you.
It meant being able to give more of himself to you than he’d ever given to anyone. I’ve never wanted that before. But with her I… With you, he wanted everything.
He hadn’t noticed that he’d been grinning until the call of his name snapped his focus back to the present. “I see that you and your apprentice have returned from your journey.” Turning in the direction of the voice, he saw the Armorer striding towards him and Grogu.
“We have,” he responded with a nod. Beside him, Grogu’s excitement was almost palpable, the kid practically bouncing from foot to foot.
“And how did everything go? Did the apprentice complete all of his tasks?” She asked Din but tilted her head down to look at Grogu.
“He did.” Din glanced down just in time to see a wide, toothy grin split the kid’s face, then met the Armorer’s gaze again. “I think he’s ready for the next level of training.”
“Hmm!” Grogu hummed in enthusiastic agreement.
“Is that so?” The Armorer placed her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side. “In that case, Grogu, we have work to do. There is still much for you to learn before your next set of missions. Are you ready to begin?” Though he knew that Grogu was bursting with excitement, Din watched as the child set his features into a mask of discipline, giving the Armorer a serious nod. “Well then, let us get started.”
Letting Din know that she would be taking over Grogu’s training for the next few days, the Armorer permitted the child a moment to say goodbye to his father before she took him to join the other Mandalorian apprentices who were ready to advance.
Stooping down, Din brought himself to his son’s level. “Alright, pal, you know what to do. Listen to what you’re told, and don’t start any trouble, got it?” He patted the space between Grogu’s ears, the small head moving in a nod beneath his leather clad palm. “I’m going to go back home to Nevarro for a few days, but when I come back guess who’ll be coming with me?”
With a small gasp, Grogu pointed at the purple scarf tucked around the collar of Din’s flight suit - the one you had given him as a Life Day gift the year before.
“That’s right,” he nodded, letting out a small laugh. “And she’s going to want to hear all about the things you’re learning, so make sure you pay good attention so you remember everything and you can show us with your pictures.”
“Patu.” Din had to stop himself from letting out another chuckle at the serious tone in Grogu’s little voice. Good, I’m glad he’s dedicated to this. It’s important that he learns.
But as soon as that thought cleared his head, Din was hit with a blur of motion as Grogu launched himself into a hug, the man wrapping his arms around him and letting the held back chuckle go free. “Alright, buddy. Be good. I’ll see you soon.”
With that, Grogu bounded off with the Armorer, and Din was left to himself. He thought briefly about stopping into his quarters on Mandalore to use the refresher and make some caf before heading straight back to Nevarro. But before he could decide if that was what he wanted to do or not, his attention was drawn by a pair of quickly approaching footsteps and the call of his name from the direction of the landing platform. He turned as Leera Shale, one of the teenaged trainees from the landing platform, shouted his name again. What’s she in such a hurry for?
“Din Djarin!” The kid ran, huffing and panting under the weight of her armor as she reached him. “My brother and I,” she began, pausing to gulp in a breath and let it back out. “We were refueling your ship and recalibrating the guns, and a holo transmission came through. It’s… It’s urgent.”
Though she hadn’t said what the message entailed, a sudden weight dropped into Din’s stomach. With the frantic way she’d run to get him, he doubted that the news she had was good. “What is it? Who is it from?”
The girl shook her head, the green and orange helmet she wore moving side to side. “We don’t know. Sahmer said the man was an Abyssin? But that’s… it doesn’t-” She sputtered. “It doesn’t matter. You need to come see it. He’s… I think someone might be in trouble.”
Your face flashed in his mind then, and though he couldn’t explain how, he knew that you were in danger. Racing back to his ship with the young Mandalorian at his heels, he tried not to think about the fact that if you were in danger, it was his fault. If she’s been hurt I’ll-
The thought trailed off as he reached the platform, wasting no time in climbing into his ship so that he could play the transmission and hear it for himself.
“I didn’t want it to come to this, Mando, but you’re a tough one to pin down.”
A chill ran down Din’s spine as he saw the speaker - an Abyssin, as Sahmer had said - seated at the table in the kitchen of the home he shared with you, though you were not in view. Where is she? What-
“We’ve never met, you and I. But you knew my brother. Gor Karesh.” The speaker clicked his tongue and huffed a humorless laugh. “Did you really think there would not be consequences for what you did to him?” At that, he lifted one hand, and from it dangled a length of leather cord, Din’s hands clenching into tight fists as he made out the pendant he’d given you. “It would be a shame to make your woman pay for those consequences, don’t you think?” He laughed again, the sound just as cold and flat. “Come to the battle arena in the warehouse district. RTK111. You know the place. Oh, and come alone. I’ll know if you don’t.” He paused then, winding the cord around your pendant and tucking it into his shirt pocket before looking straight at the holo-device as he finished his threat. “Come alone, or she dies.”
The transmission ended then, Din left staring at the controls of his ship with Sahmer and Leera standing silently beside the open cockpit. Chest heaving with rage, he started immediately setting course for the location your captor had given him. “Were you able to finish refueling before the holo came through?” He asked the question in a steady, even tone, not wanting to scare the kids despite the way his blood was boiling.
“Y-yeah.” Sahmer answered nervously. “Tank’s full and the guns are ready.”
“Good. Thank you.” He punched in the coordinates and turned to Leera. “I need you to go and find Bo-Katan Kryze. Tell her where I’m going, but that she can’t follow. Tell her my riduur is in danger and I have to get her back, and tell her-” A tight knot formed in his throat as he prepared for the worst case scenario, but he forced it down. “Tell her to look after Grogu if I don’t come back. Can you do that for me?”
Leera looked to her brother, the two of them sharing a solemn nod before the girl turned back to face Din. “This is the Way.”
Though every beat of his heart drove more fear and anger into his bloodstream, the familiar words and the meaning behind them gave him a small amount of comfort. “This is the Way.”
He only allowed himself to feel that comfort for a second though, the entirety of his focus on getting to you before it was too late. As the ship lifted from the ground, he made you a silent promise.
I’m coming for you.
He didn’t know what was waiting for him once he arrived at the arena. Based on the last interaction he had there, he could guess that it wouldn’t be pleasant. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if Karesh put a hundred men in his way, or if he had to fight a rancor. Nothing would stop him from bringing you home.
I’m coming for you, cyare. I promise.
– – –
Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to or removed from my taglists, please feel free to let me know! You can use the form on my masterlist or just shoot me a message!
For now, I'm going to use the taglist that I currently have. Apologies if you get a tag and don't want a tag - it's been a million years.
I’ve finally started reading this masterpiece, and I’m already hooked!! 🤩 What a wonderfully written introduction to plot and character!
I literally thought “nooo the bedsheet’s ruined” two sentences before the end of the first paragraph when she thinks the same - I would be incensed if someone dirtied my laundry. I am immediately relating to the main character hard.
The idea of Gor Koresh’s brother seeking revenge is genius. That was definitely a less-than-honourable way to kill someone who didn’t even have a bounty on them (as far as we know), so a prime candidate for a revenge plot. Now, because I’m old, I remember the 1993 movie Super Mario Bros., starring John Leguizamo as Luigi and Bob Hoskins as Mario, so since John was the voice for Gor Koresh, I’m naturally hearing his brother Kol’s voice here as Bob Hoskins with a Brooklyn accent - and I’ve gotta say, it really works!!!
The snapshot we got of how far Din and Grogu have come as teacher and apprentice in this story was gorgeous. I particularly loved the line “the kid only had two speeds - fast, and asleep”... it’s so true 😂
Also super horny for dedicated Din - that he literally drops everything and rushes off to save her is HOTTT!
Amazing story intro, Alyssa; I’m excited to see where this goes 👀👀
Eeeeeeeeeee!!! I’m so flippin excited that you decided to take this ride, Jem!! One of my favorite Din writers (and just one of my faves in general!) reading my Din story? I’m the happiest camper in the woods right now!
I love that you can relate to Reader and her desire for clean laundry 😂 It would be hard enough keeping this clean in a dusty environment like Nevarro, she certainly doesn’t need a band of thugs rolling up to make chores even more difficult. Alas, the sheets are the least of everyone’s worries here.
I’m so glad that you dig the revenge plot with the Karesh family here, and the ‘93 Mario and Luigi vibes are pretty much exactly what I was going for here. They may be aliens from a galaxy far away however they are also old school New York Italian main bosses in my mind and I’m happy to hear that they’re coming off that way!
Writing Din and Grogu together and showing their progression is one of my favorite things to do when writing for this universe. All I can say is it’s a good thing the Mandalorian approach to raising kids is to make it a group effort because I think poor Dinjamin would have his hands way too full if he had to do it all. I can’t wait to show you even more growth between them as the story unfolds!
We are all horny for dedicated Din, aren’t we? If we’re being honest?
I’m sorry it took a few days to respond to this but please know your comments made my day! Thank you so so so much for reading and for taking the time to leave your thoughts. I hope you like where this one goes!!
Hi Alyssa! Hope you’re doing well and having a great week!
I would like another picture for the challenge please and thank you! 🩷🥰🩷
Hi darling! I’ve had a super busy couple of weeks but things are starting to even out into a lull which I very much needed so I can catch up with things here and just things in general. I hope you’re doing well too!
Oh my goodness you are crushing it with these photo prompts!! I love it! This is actually a photo from my own camera roll and it’s one that I look at a lot when I need a lil escape. Can’t wait to see what you do with it!
Summary: The Aurelac rush is over, Cee and Ezra narrowly escaping being stranded on the toxic Green Moon with their lives. But they’re not out of the woods just yet. With no one else to turn to, Cee reaches out to the only person whose contact information Ezra has on him- Clara, the woman he walked away from five years earlier. With so much time gone by and so many old wounds what does Ezra’s sudden re-emergence in Clara’s life mean for either of them?
*this is a prequel/sequel series to the events of the movie Prospect.*
Warning: This series will deal with death, murder, violence, injury, illness, loss and other such topics. Please see individual chapters for specific warnings or feel free to message me if you are unsure.
Part One - WC: 5.8k
Part Two - WC: 4.3k
Part Three - WC: 4.1k
Part Four- WC: 5.5k
Part Five- WC: 4.7k
Part Six- WC: 4.9k
Part Seven- WC: 5.9k
Part Eight- WC: 4.8k
Part Nine- WC: 5.5k
Part Ten - WC: 5.9k
Part Eleven- WC: 5.7k
Part Twelve - WC: 5.7k
Part Thirteen - WC: 6.5k
Epilogue: Petrichor - coming soon!
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four
Related One- Shots:
Rise & Shine
Some Call it Luck
Belvedere
Asteria
Carpe Diem
The Ghosts That We Knew
Heirloom
Taking Root
700 Word Smoochlet - Dancefloor (Sig & Runa’s Wedding)
Ezra artwork by @alraedesigns
Ezra reading Cee’s notebook by @valkblue
Mood Board by @lowlights
Smiling Ezra by @alraedesigns
asks are open in regards to this story and these characters!
It makes me so flippin happy to know that you read and enjoyed this story. I know it's an older one but ponr will always be really special to me, and seeing your comments and reblogs on each chapter has brought me so much joy it's incredible. Thank you so so so so much for giving it a chance and for saying such lovely things about it. Ezra and Clara want you to know that you're always welcome on the farm <3
