My First, My Last, My Always - a PedroStories Secret Santa Exchange Event
Pairing: Francisco “Frankie” Morales x f!reader
Word Count: 2751
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: @prolix-yuy My beloved LJ - when I got your name, I literally squeed! And then felt an immediate sense of “omg will I be able to write something worthy of her?” I thought and thought about what to write for you and then I had it. I have had this idea for a Frankie fic since I started posting back in late 2021, but I’d never written it. I even had a name for it and a plot line! Now I know it’s because I was saving it for you. Have a very happy whatever you celebrate and know that not only are you extremely talented, you are one of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.
**This is for the PedroStories Secret Santa exchange event!
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)
**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Frankie Morales Masterlist
I met Frankie when we were 5. I had just moved to the neighborhood, in the middle of summer. Which meant no school, so no way to make friends. A few days later, as my parents were unpacking, I sat on the couch, leaning on the back of it to stare out the front window. To my surprise, on the front porch of the house across the street from me sat a boy. He had his head in his hands and looked a little sad and lonely, his brown hair and loose curls sticking at odd angles, like he had woken up and come outside.
“Mom, can I go say hi to the boy across the street?” I ask, already getting off the couch.
My dad glances through the front window, seeing the boy on the steps. “Sure. See if he wants to play soccer.” He tosses me a soccer ball that he had just unpacked, which I miss.
I grab it and head outside, walking straight towards the boy. He doesn’t seem to pay me any mind until I’m on his lawn. He looks up at me, furiously wiping at his eyes.
“Hi!” I say, smiling at him.
“H-hi,” he replies, his eyebrows furrowing together.
We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Do you want to play soccer?”
He sniffs. “Yeah, sure.” He stands, coming to meet me in his yard. We end up just kicking the ball back and forth for a minute. His shoulders are still slumped, like he’s carrying something heavy. I stop the ball with my foot, taking a step closer to him.
“Are you ok?” I ask, my face full of concern.
“ ‘m fine,” he mumbles.
“It’s ok if you’re sad. I am too,” I confess. He looks at me, cocking his head.
“You’re sad?”
I nod. “Yeah. We just moved here. My dad got a new job. I had to leave my friends.”
He nods. “Sorry about your friends.”
I shrug. “Thanks. So are you ok?”
He looks at his house and then back at me, coming closer. “I don’t even know you.”
I tell him my name. “But call me Rea.”
“Frankie….my parents fight a lot. Sometimes it’s too loud. I come out here to get some quiet.”
“Oh. Well, if you want, you can come over to my house whenever you need to get away.”
His eyes widen, filling with a light I hadn’t seen yet. “I can? You mean it?”
I nod, a smile forming on my face. “Yeah! We can play games, my mom makes great snacks, and my dad is building me a treehouse soon!”
From that day on, Frankie and I were inseparable. We lucked out in being placed in the same classroom that fall, Frankie taking me on a tour of the school. He told me what bathrooms were stinky and what kids were mean. He came over pretty much every day, my parents taking an immediate liking to him when I came back home with him. I did overhear them saying something about that poor boy, but they never complained. Frankie was there for family game night, pizza night, and movie nights. My parents took him to the county fair with us, the zoo, and our weekly trips to the library, where I would get every book they had on drawing and Frankie would pick out books on flying. He once told me he wanted to be a pilot.
Middle school is pretty much the first time we spent away from each other, since some of our classes were different. He took shop and I took art, trying to hone my skills as an artist as it brought me so much joy. I don’t know how I would’ve survived middle school without his presence, his strength to help me through a really rough transition time. He would claim it was all me supporting him, but I think we just work well together.
In 8th grade, Frankie came over for pizza night as usual, us heading out into our treehouse after to hangout and watch a movie on a tv I had carted up there with a long extension cord. It had a vhs player in it and so we would watch whatever we could rent. We settled down and got comfortable, a bowl of popcorn between us.
“Hey, Rea?” Frankie looks nervous, not quite looking at me.
“Yeah?” My words are garbled because of the popcorn in my mouth.
He clears his throat, still not looking at me. “Have you kissed anyone yet?”
I stop chewing. I had wondered if the boys talked like the girls, as that’s all they could talk about. Kissing boys. I hadn’t thought about it at all, until it felt like I was the only girl who hadn’t kissed anyone yet.
“Uh…no. You?” My stomach fluttered like it had butterflies in it and I didn’t know why.
“N-no.” We sat there for a moment, the movie continuing on in the background. “Maybe we could kiss each other? So we could say we did it?”
My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I hadn’t felt like this before, other than the time Frankie took my hand at the fair and guided me through the haunted mansion that we’d been through a dozen times a few weeks back.
“Oh. Uh, y-yeah.”
Frankie sits up, finally looking at me. “You sure? I just thought since we knew each other it wouldn’t be weird.”
I sit up too. “Yeah. Makes sense.”
After a few awkward body shifts, he pressed his lips to mine and the butterflies in my stomach went wild. And when he broke the kiss I’ll admit, I was more than a little sad. His face still close to mine, he gave me a small smile, those dimples on display.
“There. Now we’ve each kissed someone.”
I didn’t realize it at the time, but that first kiss was when things changed, I think. We started high school that next year, our schedules separating us further. Frankie joined ROTC (Reserve Officer’s Training Corps) and I joined the art club, my parents surprising me with private instruction from a local artist that I admired. We still saw each other at lunch, and he was still over at our house more often than not, these days more because of whomever his mom was currently dating. But everything felt…different. I brushed it off, not knowing how to put it into words.
Then, our senior year, Frankie came to me with another proposition. Neither of us had been intimate with someone else, and who better than someone we know and trust? The boys had been talking about it and the girls had definitely been talking about it. I wasn’t against the idea of sex. I just never got around to it. So when Frankie proposed the idea at our weekly movie after pizza night, I agreed, that familiar butterflies in my stomach feeling coming flooding back.
In true Frankie fashion, he came prepared and had studied. He set up the treehouse with extra cushions and candles, putting flowers everywhere, with some music in the background. He already knew about protection and knew how to use it, shyly admitting he had asked his friend Santi how to put one on. Frankie was gentle with me, making sure I was ok as we both shared this experience. After, we laid together in the blankets, Frankie holding me to his side as his fingers traced the skin on my hip, both of us content to just be with the other.
Things didn’t technically change between us, aside from another romp or 2 in the hay, so to speak. I didn’t understand why he never asked me out until a couple months later, when he told me he signed up for the army.
“Go to college, Rea. Get that art degree and make millions off your drawings. You’re amazing.”
And while I shed many tears, I did just as he asked, even driving him to the airport on his way to basic, where he gently kissed me and told me to live my life, but don’t forget to write.
I wrote to Frankie often, chronicling my college life as he told me about his, once his time in basic training was up. We still had weekly calls where I would tell him about my drawings, and he would tell me animatedly about learning to fly helicopters and also that his friend Santi was with him too.
I was the first one he told about going for a special forces group, Delta Force, and his acceptance there. Santi’s too. Sometimes it would be a few weeks between us chatting, but I understood. He was dealing with literal life and death scenarios. Or at least preparing for them.
I picked him up every time he came home from tour, sometimes with a girl on his arm. I’ll admit the first time I saw it, a part of me envisioned leaping on the poor girl and tearing her eyes out. But I had remind myself that he was overseas and I’m sure it gets lonely and I’m glad he had someone to comfort him, no matter how much I wished it was me. I dated too after that, the longest one sticking around for about 8 months before I caught him cheating on me with his secretary. Which is incredibly cliche of him.
I eventually graduated with an art history degree, getting a job at a local art gallery and selling my own drawings on the side. It was a pretty awesome deal, getting to work and do the thing that I love. I sometimes worry it would end badly, mixing business with pleasure. But it ended up being the opposite.
Frankie and I still talked, but over the years our calls became less and less frequent. Sometimes I was away on an art bid and other times he was on a mission, gone for weeks at a time. He would still check in from time to time to at least let me know he was alive. His absence left a hole in my heart though. He was my one constant through life, the person I could share anything with, my first for a lot of things. The few words we did exchange helped me to get to the next call, which I know is unhealthy, but not matter what I did, I couldn’t fill the void he left behind.
Present Day
“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” My mom asks me for the millionth time.
I chuckle into the phone. “YES mom. You guys won a cruise! Go celebrate Christmas on the high seas. I’ll come visit when you get back.”
“Well…if you’re sure. I- no! You will absolutely NOT be wearing a speedo on the cruise! Rea I have to go talk some sense into your father. We’ll call you when we get back.”
I laugh this time. “Have fun mom.” In the background before I hang up, I hear my father playfully yell. “Hey! Give me back my man panties!”
My laugh turns into a sigh as I look around my condo. I had been packing to head to my parent’s home in the morning to spend Christmas Day and a few days after with them. I unpack and head into the kitchen, pulling out a couple of steaks to rest before cooking them. I’ll make extra and then not have to cook on Christmas. Sounds like a plan to me. I make some hot chocolate and settle on my couch, a thick Christmas themed blanket thrown over my legs. I’m about to take a sip when I hear a knock at my door. I set my mug down and toss the blanket off. My neighbor is a little senile and sometimes locks herself out of her apartment. In one of her clear moments, she gave me a spare key to let her into hers, in case it was during a time when her nurse wasn’t around. I unlock the door and open it, her name poised on my lips. But instead I’m met with the biggest, brown puppy dog eyes that I’ve ever seen.
“Hey, Rea. You’re home.”
Shocked. I am stunned. “I..y-yeah. So are you?” Nice. Good one.
He smile, those dimples showing off as he rubs at the back of his head, the Standard Oil Heating cap I’d given him from our road trip across the state still on top. “Yeah.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Can I come in?”
“What? Oh. Yeah! Come in.” I step back to let him in, giving him extra space for the bag slung on his back. He sets it down just inside the door, kicking off his boots too.
“Are you ok?” I ask him, noting the scar on the bridge of his nose and a fresh cut on his cheek.
“I am now.” Silence between us, like we haven’t talked our entire lives. Although it had been a few months since I’d spoken to him, outside of my unanswered letters.
“Did you want some-” I start, hitching my thumb over my shoulder to point towards the kitchen.
“I almost died.”
A hole opened in my stomach and my heart fell right into it. “What?”
He nods, taking the cap from his head to wring it between his hands, but not before running his fingers through those soft brown curls. “I can’t give you details. Classified. But I almost died. I mean, I saved us all, but if I hadn’t moved my head…”
“Oh Frankie!” I throw my arms around him, the time that we hadn’t talked dissolving in an instant. His arms wrap around me, his face pressing into my hair.
“I love you, Rea.”
“I love you too, Frankie.”
“No,” He takes a breath. “I’m in love with you.”
Those familiar butterflies that only he seems to put there come back, like they’d never left. I break the hug and take a step back, trying to look at his face. Surely he’s kidding right? This is all some joke that I don’t understand?
“We were spiraling and the engines wouldn’t cut back on and all I could think about was you. How I had this amazing friend in my life for most of my life who never judged me for where I came from or what I wore, who always supported me no matter what, who let me get pineapple on my pizza even though she hated it just because she knows I like it. She always saw me for me. And how I was so fucking stupid for never seeing it before and yet, somehow knowing I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss. I made a promise that if I got out of there alive, the first thing I’d do is come tell you, in person how I feel. And I know it’s sudden, and I know you may not even feel the same. Hell, I don’t know if you even have a boyfriend. I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but I-”
I grip his shirt and pull him to me, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he doesn’t move, shocked by my reply. But then he snaps out of it, his hands coming up to cup my face as he presses his tongue against my lips. I part mine every slightly, whimpering slightly when he pushes his tongue past my lips. One hand drops from my face, outstretched behind me as he walks me backwards, his hand hitting the wall before he pushes me up against it, that same hand cupping my face again before tracing down my body to squeeze at my hip. I wrap my leg around him, pulling him closer as my fingers tangle in his soft curls. But then he pulls back, just enough to look me in the eyes.
“I take it this means you feel the same?” He’s smiling, but he’s also serious.
“I’ve been waiting for this since our first kiss. But I don’t think I understood it then.”
Frankie groans. “What a stupid couple of assholes.” We chuckle together, his nose brushing against mine.
He smiles, his eyes getting that big puppy eye look to them. “So you’ll be my first and my last?”
I smile back. “As long as you’re mine.”
Within a few months, we’re married. Our first, our last, and our always.
Warnings: Please be aware there is an 11 year age gap. Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: When the story starts, Vanessa is 19 and Javier is 30.
**Shoutout to @VaneMando15 for listening and bouncing ideas from me, and for her guidance with being a Latina herself. Without her, this wouldn’t even be a thing, just another line on my WIP spreadsheet. And also to my husband, who is also Latino and answered any questions I had (along with taking me to Colombia back in 2014). And to @wyn-n-tonic, who listened to my rambles and insecurities about writing an oc in first person.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
Jump Then Fall Masterlist
General Masterlist
Javier Peña Masterlist
<<Part 2<<
He's coming back. Chucho is bringing Javier back after 6 years. What do I say? How do I tell him he has a son who is already 6 years old? Will he even remember me? Will he want to be a part of mine and Alex's life or will he turn and run?
My mind spirals as I finish drying the last few pans before putting them away. I head upstairs, my brain going through a million different scenarios before I take a quick glance in the mirror. I smooth down my hair and put on a new outfit, a simple summer dress that goes down to my knees, and end up randomly tidying and cleaning the house, never settling on one spot.
I knew this day would come. I guess I just never thought about it specifically. 6 years ago, I was so sure of my choice not to tell him, that I wouldn't want him distracted in Colombia but I wouldn't want him to come home and resent us for forcing his choice. But a part of me, ok a large part of me, feels guilty for not giving him the choice.
I hear Chucho's truck pull up outside and my heart starts beating faster. The truck doors slam and muted voices make their way to the front door. I pick up the book on the counter in front of me and open it, my eyes not taking in a word but I didn't want to look like I was waiting around for them. For him.
"...'m fine. You don't have to b-baby me."
"I'm just trying to make sure you don't vomit on the clean floors."
He's drunk. I can tell by the way his words are slurred, his feet thunking across the wood floors in a sporadic pattern. Before I can move, he stumbles through the kitchen doorway, his eyes taking a few moments to focus on me.
"Who are you?"
My hearts sinks a little. I would've been surprised if he remembered me, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt.
"Vanessa."
He steps closer to me, his eyes scanning my body before settling on mine.
"Are you fucking my dad?"
"Uh, no. I-"
"Ok, Javi. Time for bed. Vanessa will be here later for you to question," Chucho claps his hands on Javier's shoulders and guides him towards the doorway.
"Ok, ok. I have more questions later, Vanessssssa."
I give him a little wave as he disappears through the doorway. Chucho struggles to get him up the stairs, but eventually the sounds of them arguing disappear and I'm left alone for the moment. I turn around, gripping the counter with both of my hands and take several deep breaths.
He doesn't remember me. Or maybe it's because he's drunk? How do I handle it now?
His eyes, though filled with the drink, held a lot of anger and regret. He's hurting. I can't imagine what he's seen or had to do in persuit of Escobar. Chucho walks back in, breaking me from my thoughts.
"Sorry about him. He doesn't usually get drunk like that."
I wave my hand. "It's fine. I imagine he's been through a lot."
"Still, it's not an excuse to act like an asshole...he's going to be out for a bit but I'm thinking hamburgers for dinner? Something greasy to help that hangover he's going to have."
"Sounds good."
Chucho studies me for a moment. "How are you?"
That's a good question. "I...I'm not entirely sure."
"You need to tell him."
I nod. "Of course. But I can't tell him when he's drunk."
He chuckles. "No, I suppose not. But soon, ok?"
I give him a small smile before moving to get out the ingredients to bake some hamburger buns. Chucho moves to the living room, the tv turning on a moment later. He flips the channel and the news report echoes through the doorway to me.
"Breaking news! Pablo Escobar has just been killed. This is live footage of the rooftop where he was killed by DEA agent Steve Murphy..."
I step into the living room, watching the live broadcast of the rooftops where the outline of a dead man lays splaid on the tiles, other men in tach vests surrounding him. A blonde man high fives someone as the news anchor continues their report. But then it dawns on me.
Javier is not there, finally catching Escobar after 6 years of chasing him. He's here. No wonder he's drunk. What happened?
"Why is Javier here, Chucho?"
He's quiet a moment. "I don't know."
I return to the kitchen, mixing the dough before forming the buns. I can't imagine working for 6 years trying to catch one of the most elusive men, only to be forced away at the very end, not even being allowed to be there for his capture. I'd lose my mind too. I know I need to tell him about Alex, but I also need to give him a moment with this.
But how long of a moment?
-------
It takes 3 days for Javier to come out of a drunken stupor. I hear his bedroom door open as he stumbles down the hall with a groan, the bathroom door closing behind him. I hear a slam from the bathroom, sounding like the toilet lid. I wipe my hands on my apron and head upstairs, hesitating for a moment outside of the bathroom door. I knock very gently.
"Javier? Are you alright?"
A grunt followed by another violent heaving sound answers me. I turn the handle, slowly pushing the door open as the heaving subsides. Javier slumps against the side of the bathtub, his hand moving around to find the handle to flush the toilet. His hair is rumpled, his eyes mostly closed, clad only in a pair of sweatpants. I walk over to the toilet and close the lid, flushing the toilet for him. His hand drops to his lap and he takes a couple of deep breaths.
"Thanks."
"Of course. Do you want help up?"
He cracks his eyes open and looks at me. "You're not my dad."
"That I am not."
He lifts his head, opening his eyes a little more before hissing and closing them, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "The fucking light is going to kill me."
"Well I can't do anything about the light coming in this window. But let's get you back to your room in bed. You'll feel better."
I wait a few moments while he gathers himself, extending my hand to help him up. He squints at me and I roll my eyes.
"Just take my hand. I'm stronger than I look."
He takes it and I have to hold back a gasp as his large hands engulf my small ones, the warmth from the contact sparking all sorts of thoughts and memories. I pull him to his feet and he leans on me as I help him back to his room, pulling back the sheets as he slides in. I pull all of his curtains firmly shut, only using the light from the hallway to see around. Javier settles into bed, groaning a little as he puts his hand on his stomach.
"I'll bring you some water and pain meds."
"Oh you don't have-"
"That wasn't a question."
I head back downstairs, getting a glass of water. I stop by the bathroom again, opening the medicine cabinet and getting out some pain meds. I also pull out the bottle of activated charcoal tablets that Chucho handed me shortly after Javier came home. He said they suck to choke down but they'd really help the hangover. I carry everything to his room, shaking out the right amount of charcoal tablets. Javier sits up with another groan, taking the pills and the glass of water.
"This isn't aspirin."
"No. It's activated charcoal. Chucho said it will really help your hangover. You can't take it with any meds though as it'll just absorb those."
"I'll just take the aspirin."
"I really think you need to take the charcoal."
He looks up at me. "I don't even know who you are why the fuck would I listen to you?"
"Because I just carried your stubborn self all the way from the bathroom after you puked your guts out. I'm just trying to help. Take the damn pills."
He studies me through squinted eyes. "Yes ma'am." He chokes down the pills and makes a disgusted face before drinking several sips of water. "Those taste terrible."
"I never claimed they tasted good. So let those do their work and get some rest. When you're ready, come downstairs and I'll make you something to eat."
He looks at me again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together in concentration. "No really, who are you?"
"Vanessa. Now get some rest."
He lays back and I pull the blanket up, giving him a small smile when I catch him looking at me. I leave the room and head back downstairs, finishing up some of the lesson planning I was doing for the upcoming semester.
A few hours later, Javier comes downstairs, this time with a shirt. Although he only has the bottom 3 buttons done up. I'm not sure why he even bothered with a shirt. Not that I'm complaining. He stands there awkwardly, like he doesn't know what to do.
"Feeling better?" I ask, turning to face him from my stool at the kitchen island.
"Yeah. Those charcoal things worked really well."
"Good. I've never been hungover so I wasn't sure, but I figured Chucho knew what he was talking about. Are you hungry?"
"I uh...I'm not sure," his hand goes to his stomach, his face souring slightly.
I head over to the slow cooker on the counter. "I made some chicken noodle soup. If anything, you can sip on the broth?" I look over at him, his head cocked to the side, watching me.
"Javier?"
"What? Oh soup. Yeah. Sure."
I ladle him a bowl and grab some saltines and set them on a little plate next to his bowl and set it in front of him. I also set down a glass filled with cloudy looking water.
"Coconut water?" Javier asks skeptically.
I shrug. "My mom always gave it to me during and after a cold. Said it gave me back nutrients. I figure alcohol probably takes a fair amount of nutrients from you. So it should help."
"Hhmm. Guess we'll find out." He takes a tentative sip from the cup, licking his lips a little after. "Hey that's sitting alright."
I give him a small smile. "Good."
Before I can move, he grabs my arm and gives it a little squeeze, sending jolts of electricity through me. "Thank you."
"Y-you're welcome."
I sit and pull my planner and books to me, resuming my task of lesson planning. I can feel his eyes on me, like he's studying me. I wish he would find something else more interesting.
"What are you doing?"
I don't look up. "Lesson planning for this upcoming semester."
He takes a slurp of his soup and swallows it. "Teacher? Holy shit this soup is amazing."
I look up at him as he takes another bite, his eyes closing for a moment as he savors the soup.
"Yeah. I'm teaching 2nd grade this year."
"Sounds fun. Seriously, what did you do to this soup?"
"My mom taught me how to cook," My eyes sting and my heart hurts thinking of those memories.
"Well, she did a damn good job."
"Sometimes she got it right."
He looks up at me. "Oh. I'm sorry I touched a nerve."
I wave my hand. "It's ok. I've come to terms with it."
He sets his spoon down, all of his focus on me. His gaze is intense, that little furrow between his brow is back. "You look-"
"Good you're awake, puto. Put some pants on and come help me." Chucho walks in the back door, stomping his boots on the mat outside before stepping in.
"I don't know if I-"
"Come on, son. No more babying I gave you time. Now I need your young bones."
"You sound like a bruja." (witch). But Javier pushes back from the island and starts to grab his plate.
"Don't worry about it, I got it." I stand, leaning over to take the bowl and plate, noticing that he'd eaten all of it. "I have more if you want some."
His dark eyes bore into mine, fanning a flame inside of me. "I want whatever you give me, Vanessa."
SMACK! Chucho slaps Javier on the back of his head.
"What the fuck?"
"Stop flirting and come help me before these chickens run halfway to Mexico."
-------
Chucho and Javier are gone for a few more hours and return just as the sun is setting. I hang up the phone, having had my nightly call with Alex, who is having a blast at science camp. The men kick off their work boots and coats, trudging upstairs to shower.
"Dinner will be ready soon so don't take long!" I yell after them.
Chucho devours the steak I'd made him while Javier opts to have another couple bowls of soup. Before long, Chucho leans back, slapping his stomach.
"Well, I am tired. Gonna get an early sleep. Vanessa? Delicious, as usual. Night, everyone."
"Good night, Chucho."
While he heads upstairs, I start to clean up, Javier immediately moving to help me. I shake my head.
"Nope. I got this."
"I can help."
"Really, it's ok."
"Are you always this stubborn?
"Are you?"
He looks at me before he smirks, but then it's gone just as fast. Man am I fucked.
"I can dry?"
"I appreciate the offer, but really. I'm ok."
"Does washing the dishes relax you or something?"
I know he said it in jest, but now that I think about it, it kind of does. The warm, soapy water calms me down. Gives me space to think.
"Yeah sort of."
He puts his hands up. "Say no more. I don't want to intrude." Did he just wink at me? Javier heads from the kitchen and I hear the front door open, the screen door slapping closed behind him.
After I'm done with the dishes, I dry my hands, thinking. I grab another glass of coconut water and head towards the front door, hesitating for several moments before pushing open the screen. Javier sits on the swing bench, facing out to look over the front half of the farm, a cigarette lit and in between his fingers. He takes a long drag, his lips rounding to blow out the smoke.
"I thought you should hydrate again." I hold up the glass and he turns to look at me, his eyes coming back into focus. He beckons me to him and I walk up, handing him the glass.
"That's a nasty habit, you know," I nod towards the cigarette in his hand.
He shrugs. "You have your relaxing activity, and I have mine." Still, he leans forward and puts it out on the tray he'd set on the arm of the bench. "Come. Sit."
I take a breath and sit, our thighs nearly touching. The air feels electrified, like it's waiting for something to happen. We sit like this for a while, staring out at the cows grazing in the front fields, Javier lightly rocking the swing as he rolls his foot back and forth.
"Thank you for...everything. Taking care of me and..everything." He turns his head to look at me in the light coming in through the windows from the house.
"It's not a problem. Anyone would do it."
He snorts. "Not for me."
"And why not?"
He pauses a moment. "I'm not a good guy."
"Well I know that's not true. You're a great man, Javier." I place my hand on his forearm without thinking, and squeeze. He looks down at where I touch him, placing his hand over mine before looking at me.
"I'm really not. I just..." He trails off, his eyes sweeping over my face. "You...you look familiar. It's been killing me for days."
Well. Now is the time. For this confession, at least.
"That's because we know each other."
His brow furrows slightly. "I had a feeling. From where?"
It still hurts a little that he doesn't remember, even though I know it's a trauma response. Memory loss and PTSD can often go hand in hand.
"You...you gave me a rose, once."
Recognition immediately ripples over his face, his eyes widening, his eyebrows raising a little as he shifts his body to face me.
"Vanessa? From the bar? Right before I left for Colombia?"
I smile nervously. "That's me."
"Summer of new things Vanessa?"
I nod. "Yup. Me."
His eyes are twinkling now, a small smile creeping up his face. "Holy shit! I never thought I'd see you again. It was so hard to walk away from you that morning. The only thing that did it was the fact that the DEA would come down on me hard for missing that flight." His eyes soften the longer he looks in mine and for a moment, we're both transported back to that night, the night he opened up my world.
"H-how are you?" He's hesitant, but his eyes are wide and curious.
"Not bad."
"How did you end up here? I thought you were going back to-" he waves his hand around trying to think. "Austin?"
"Corpus Christi."
He snaps his fingers. "That was it."
Do I tell him about Alex? About being a father? Something inside me tells me to wait. To only surprise Javier with one thing at a time. He's been through so much and the last thing I want to do is pile more on top of that.
"It's a long story but I...got pregnant and my parents..well, they didn't approve. Out of wedlock. Anyway, they kicked me out and I uh, ended up here. Chucho I guess took pity on me and gave me a place to stay. I offered to cook and clean for him which of course he argued against, but," I shrug. "And so I stayed. He demanded I return to college and get my teaching degree I had been working on and he babysat Alex while I did. I owe him so much. My life, basically. I don't know how I'll be able to repay him."
His eyes grew serious. "You're parents kicked you out pregnant?"
I nod. "Yeah."
"That's fucked. Sorry, but it is."
I shrug. "They were the kind of parents that would scrub my mouth out with soap and make me repeat scripture if I had nail polish on so I guess I'm not surprised. I've made peace with it."
"Still. I'm sorry that happened to you."
"Thanks."
We sit in silence for another few moments, one weight on my chest lifted but a very heavy one still remaining.
"The dad didn't help?"
Here's your chance, Vanessa. You can tell him now, despite everything. Tell him. TELL. HIM.
"He...He had other things to do."
Javier scoffs. "What an asshole."
I shake my head vehemently. "No, it's not..they were very important."
"More important than knocking up a young woman?"
"I think so."
"I'm sure."
I turn to face him more directly. "What if it was yo-"
RING RING! RING RING!
The phone cuts through our conversation, forcing an ending that I wasn't ready for. Javier attempts to stand but I put my hand out.
"It might be Alex. I've got it."
I feel his eyes on me as I go inside, answering the phone quickly. It wasn't Alex but some automated political message and I grunt, hanging up the phone in frustration. I should go back outside and explain everything to him, confess it all, but I don't. I do peak my head back outside and call his name, momentarily flustered when he looks at me.
"It was some political something."
"I fucking hate those."
"I'm going upstairs. Drink that coconut water." I point to the untouched glass in his hand and he holds it up towards me.
Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader (nickname: Poppy)
Word Count: 2800+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: Listen. I saw that clip of him making out in The Uninvited. That's it. That's the explanation. This is not betad. This one is for the sluts.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)
**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Lucien Masterlist
--------
I get out of my car, staring up at the ridiculous mansion in front of me. The sound of the ocean, just out of sight behind the giant home, is soft and gentle in my ears, calming me. Giving me a little mental boost before I sigh, smoothing down my dress. I make my way to the front door, weaving between a few cars that were parked out front. Expensive cars.
It's not that I'm jealous of my childhood friend. Emilia deserves to be happy and she's happy that she married money. Some fancy producer out here in LA that fell for her big eyes and bright smile the second he saw her.
But that doesn't mean I wanted to come to one of her dinner parties, having to schmooze and pretend to be interested in what everyone has to say. I've been here before, met the people, fucked the party boy actor that eventually broke me, and yet here I am, unable to say no to Emilia.
I raise my hand to knock, dreading what the evening will bring but the door flies open before my knuckles touch anything. Emilia stands before me, a few rollers still in her hair, stress all over her body.
"Poppy, you're early! Thank GOD!" She pulls me inside and hugs me, the door closing heavy behind me.
"I always come early because you need me," I smile as she chuckles, lightly punching my arm. "What can I do to help?"
"You're angel, I swear! Can you make sure the table settings are right? There's extra silverware in the-"
"I know, Emilia. Everything like normal?" I'd been to so many of her parties, I know exactly what the set up is.
She nods, her smile growing wider. "Keep it simple and classy. You know me!"
I nod. "So what kind of party is this one? Another schmooze for Mr.?"
She waves her hand. "Yeah something like that. He's meeting with a bunch of actors for some upcoming project. He's hand selected them."
"Cool."
Emilia thanks me again before running off to finish getting ready. I pause for a moment, looking around trying to remember where the dining room is. I head down the hall and into what I think is the dining room. It turns out I remembered correctly, my eyes roaming over the table and making small adjustments to the settings already there. I end up pulling out more silverware, fixing them to Emilia's standards. I hate that I know this stuff, but I've saved her ass more times than I can count at these things so it helps to know what to expect.
As I work, my mind goes back to all the parties past. The ones she brought me to when she first started dating the producer several years ago. She had been so nervous, as if the producer wasn't already head over heels for her. That's where I met-
No. Not going down that road again. I can't do that to myself.
I shake my head and finish the settings, adding some minor touches to the decorations and finally lighting the candles. A knock at the door brings me out of my head and I walk over to answer it. An older gentleman stands there, putting out a cigarette with his shoe. He introduces himself as the director. What an ego.
Several people arrive after him, a mix of actors and a screenwriter. They all mingle in the sitting room for a few minutes before Emilia and the producer make their way in, everyone doing introductions.
The producer claps his hands together, looking around. "We're still missing one, but I doubt he'd mind us getting started. Who's hungry?"
Everyone gives their approval but as they move towards the dining room, a knock raps on the front door.
"That should be him. Guess I tried to start too soon!" Polite laughter at the producer as Emilia moves to answer the door, a quick glance in my direction before she disappears down the hall. The producer is telling some little story about a prior movie he was involved in, one I've heard a zillion times. But his story is short and he motions behind me.
"Just in time! We were about to eat. Welcome, Lucien."
My back stiffens. The room starts to spin my chest heaving. He didn't say Lucien. Did he? Maybe it was another Lucien. It couldn't be my Lucien? No. He's not my Lucien. He made that very clear when he wanted to continue partying and I wanted to settle down.
"Perfect! I'm starving."
Fuck. There was no mistaking that voice, the one that sets my skin ablaze, makes warmth pool between my thighs, the one that told me he needed to focus on his career and couldn't be with me. Not in the way I wanted him.
A small hand on my elbow squeezes me and I know it's Emilia, gently guiding me towards the dining room.
"I'm sorry, Poppy. He invited him and I didn't make the connection until the last minute."
"You couldn't have given me a heads up?" I yank my arm from her grip and swallow hard. I can't let him see how he makes me feel. He doesn't deserve that. I turn, letting the others file past me until he stops in front of me.
"Poppy. I..I didn't know you'd be here."
I'm determined to show him how much better off I am, that he means nothing to me now. I look up into his eyes and all of my resolve goes completely out the window. Were his eyes always that big? That round? So soft? I want to yank him to me by the thin chain around his neck, press my lips to his and never let go.
Way to show him, Poppy.
"I didn't know you'd be here either."
A silence stretches between us, a heavy, loaded silence. His eyes soften the longer he looks at me and is that regret I see? No. I'm projecting. But then he offers me his arm, taking me completely by surprise.
"We can be adults. Shall we?"
Don't do it. Don't take his arm, Poppy. Don't do it, don't do it, don't-
My fingers close on his offered up arm. "I'm sure this is a great opportunity for you."
Fuck, he's still warm. His skin smooth where my fingers touch him. Way to go, Poppy.
He escorts me into the dining room and I feel Emilia's eyes glued to us. He pulls out my chair and I sit, him scooting the chair in behind me before walking around the table, looking for his name card. Which was conveniently placed directly across from mine.
The producer clears his throat after everyone sits and starts making some speech about the project, about handpicking everyone here, blah blah blah. I zone out, trying to use my peripheral to steal glances at him. It's been several years since that night we split, the yelling match that had devolved into quite possibly the hottest sex I'd ever had. No, don't think about that. I need a better look so I turn my head to take a drink and chance a glance at him, only to find him already looking at me, still with the soft eyes. I nearly choke on my drink, managing to swallow it and clear my throat.
He finishes his speech and everyone claps politely, starting to eat and talk amongst themselves. I sit, deciding to choose silence while eating but then Lucien looks directly at me.
"So, what do you think?"
"Uh what?"
Fuck him with those big, stupid eyes.
He gestures towards the producer with his fork. "The project."
"Oh. Well I'm not involved so," I shrug. "I'm just here for Emilia."
He chuckles. "How many rollers were in her hair this time?"
I laugh, my body betraying me. "Four."
"But seriously. A good project?"
"I think..I think it's an honor he hand picked you. I'm not sure what the project itself is, but I'm sure it would be great for your career."
His eyes study my face as I take a bite of my food. "It's not always about the career though."
Anger surges up through me. "Isn't it?"
"How are we doing over here?" Emilia had walked up, cutting off whatever Lucien was about to say to defend himself.
"Great, Em. I'm just going to get something from the kitchen." I set my napkin on the table and push my chair back, Emilia giving me the smallest squeeze to my arm before I turn and head into the kitchen, the door closing behind me and effectively cutting off the sounds of the dinner party.
I lean over the kitchen island, my hands splayed out over the cool marble, trying to calm myself down. I hear the door open, the chatter from the party momentarily loud again before the door swings shut and it's quiet again.
"Em, I'm fine. Really. He just...caught me by surprise. I can hold it in."
"What if I don't want you to hold it in?"
My head snaps up, meeting his gaze, embarrassment making my skin heat up. "Oh. I thought you were Emilia."
Lucien takes a few steps towards me, the light glinting off the thing chain around his neck. "You didn't answer my question."
I stand up straight, crossing my arms. "We've done this dance before, Lucien. It didn't end well."
He smirks and I want to slap him. "I think it ended just fine. In the doorway, on the floor, in the front yard. I had to move my neighbors were too jealous."
My body betrays me with a small smile at the memory but then I reign it in. "I'm still not paying for that end table."
He's closer now. When did he move closer? Almost close enough to touch. His voice is low and raspy. "I'd destroy every end table on this planet if it meant having you under me again."
Fuck. Me.
I turn away from him, not giving him the pleasure of seeing what he does to me. "Flattering. But you made it very clear I was not number one in your life."
"I was stupid. I guess I needed to prove to you, to myself, that I could actually do this acting thing."
Finally composing myself, I turn to face him. "And how'd that work out for you?"
His eyebrows furrow together. "Have you not seen any of my films?"
I had. I had seen them all. I know I shouldn't have, that it wasn't helping me get over him. But Lucien has this pull, this hold on me I've never been able to fully shake.
"Some. But I'm asking your opinion. Off camera."
His jaw ticks a moment before he takes a swig from the glass I only just realized he was holding. "It brought me here."
I scoff. "Yeah, the producer hand picking you is actually a very high honor. I'd be-"
"No, you misunderstand." He shakes his head and sets his glass down on the counter. "I lied earlier."
It was my turn to furrow my eyebrows. "When? You've lied to me a lot."
"Earlier, when I said I didn't know you'd be here. I knew, well...more like hoped you'd be here. Knew it was a long shot but the only way you'd talk to me again."
My heart was racing, nearly bouncing out of my chest as he takes another few steps right into my personal bubble, my lower back against the counter. "I already told you I'm not replacing that end table."
He's right in front of me, the warmth from his body radiating onto mine. "I was a fool, Poppy. I..I love you."
I've waited years to hear him say those words to me again, to hear him actually mean them. To hear them not sandwiched between things like "but I have to focus on my career".
His lips are so close to mine, his breath fanning over my face.
"You broke my heart, Lucien."
"I know. I'm sorry. Let me put it back together."
"Lucien, I-" but he cuts me off with the softest touch of his lips I've ever felt, a whole slew of emotions flooding my body, including the one pooling between my legs.
"I can't do this without you, Poppy."
"Do this?"
"Life. I don't want to do it without you."
Fuck.
I grip that chain around his neck and pull him to me, our lips crashing together, his body pressing into mine. But then the counter scrapes across my spine and I jolt, breaking the kiss to gasp in pain. Lucien steps back, offering me his hand.
"Let's go somewhere where we won't break the furniture."
I shouldn't take his hand. I can still back out. But a small voice in the back of my head believes that he means it. That he wants a life with me, wants what I wanted all those years ago. And right now, I'm letting that voice win. I take his hand and he smiles, that smile that makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world. He guides me out the back door, past the pool, past the changing tents between the pool and the beach, and down the walkway alongside the neighbors cement wall that leads down to the beach.
He spins me and I laugh, tasting the salty ocean air on my tongue. I back up towards the wall and he follows me, lowering himself to my level. His large hands wrap around my hips, gliding down to cup my ass, and I moan into his kiss, my hand gripping his shirt to pull him closer to me. He kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth like it had so many times before. One hand still firmly on my ass, the other slides up my side, cupping my face so tenderly, full of love. He pulls back slightly and looks at me, like he's shocked I'm really here. That he's really kissing me.
"I love you, Poppy. I never should have let you go."
"Then don't let me go. I've always been yours."
He kisses me again, his hips pressing into mine and I can feel him hard, my cunt desperately throbbing, begging to feel him inside me again. Somewhere in my haze of desire, I hear myself begging, whispering pleas in his ear to take me, that I need him inside me before I die. His hands slide my dress up my thighs, reaching under and ripping my underwear in two, tucking them into his pocket. He had ruined so many good pairs of my underwear that way, but I honestly couldn't care less. My fingers fumble with his zipper, but I manage to get it down, reaching in to grip him, a sharp intake of breath when my fingers close around him, pumping him a few times. His hands slide under my ass, lifting me up as he presses me against the wall. He slides into me and the world stops moving, colors are brighter, and I finally feel right, like I'm actually here on this planet. Every thrust of his hips brings him deeper into me, holding me here, holding me to him. His breath comes out in short pants, desperate pleas of love and apologies between our moans as he fucks me against the wall.
And then the light blooming inside me breaks, my head pushing back, my nails digging into his skin, my entire body tingling as pleasure radiates out from where we connect. Lucien follows suit, moaning my name as he spills himself inside of me, pushing as deep as he can. We stay like that for a moment, trying to catch our breaths.
"I want to stay inside of you but my legs are fucking shaking."
I laugh and he yelps, quickly trying to pull out of me as my laughter contracts my body around him. He sets me on the ground and zips his pants as I smoothe out my dress, my laughter slowly fading. I look at him and he looks back at me, his eyes still soft and gentle. He tucks some hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek again.
"I wasn't kidding, Poppy. I was fucking stupied before. I need you next to me. When we're together, I feel...right. like I belong here. I don't think I can face this life without you."
I know it's a possibility this will end the same way it did before, but something in his eyes is different this time. He's had time to think, time to experience life without someone with him. Without me. He's grown, matured - well, matured some at least. But do I want to open my heart back up to him? Knowing that he could shatter it again at any moment?
"I'm still not replacing that end table."
He smiles and it lights up my entire world. "That's ok. I have plenty more furniture we can ruin with our love."
A/n: It’s been a minute. I took a little break from writing. Life has been busy but as soon as I saw Pedro at the Oscars I immediately got inspired to write this fic. Thank you to the amazing @musings-of-a-rose for never allowing me to quit and helping me with this.
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
If you want to be added to the taglist, join here!
The last 24 hours have been a whirlwind. The apartment was pitch black. You had cried yourself to sleep as soon as you got in. After the emotional roaster that you had been on, you finally decide to get out of bed. Walking in a daze, on autopilot you made your way to the kitchen, where you realized that this was no longer how the home that it once was before. After making some coffee, you started packing all your stuff into luggage, waiting for your agent Chloe to come to help you. This time, there was no music pumping or him grabbing you to dance while you were cleaning or cooking. It was just you, alone, in a quiet apartment that you and Pedro once shared.
After so many years spent together, now that it's over, you were left feeling confused and, honestly, lost.
Ring… Ring… Ring…
Your phone was blowing up with text messages from Pedro.
Text Message - 11:29 a.m. Pedro - A, please answer me
Text Message - 11:30 a.m. Pedro - A, you left last night without letting me know.
Text Message - 11:31 a.m. Pedro - A, I know you're upset but please answer me to let me know you're ok.
Text Message - 11:32 a.m. Pedro - Please answer me! I’m worried about you.
Text Message - 11:33 a.m. Pedro - I love you.
You angrily grab your phone and throw it against the wall, letting out your emotions with a loud scream.
“Anna! Are you ok? What happened?”
Chloe, your agent, opens the door of the apartment and runs towards you, seeing you collapsed on the floor, chest heaving, and in tears.
“You called me last night. Said that you were heading back from Calgary. Did something happen with you and Pedro? What happened? Why is Pedro calling me to see where you are?”
Chloe brought you up from the floor and sat you down on the sofa as she went and grabbed some water to help calm you down.
It was real. It really happened. All the hurt, all the pain was being turned into rage, bubbling up inside of you.
How can you move on from this?
Four years ago……
You never thought you'd give up your stable job in Miami to pursue acting. Being an award winning actress was something you'd always dreamed of, but taking the leap was never in the picture. When one of your good friends told you about an opportunity for a role in a show you took the chance and went to audition for it. They offered you the role on the spot, which was the final push you needed to give your dream a chance. After a couple of roles, you were excited when you got a small part in a new show called The Mandalorian. It wasn’t a major role, but you were to interact with the Mandalorian and bounty hunter, Din Djarin, who is played by Pedro Pascal. You had no clue who Pedro is, but you do know you're more than excited to be in a Star Wars series.
Prior to filming the scene, you were to meet up with Pedro to quickly run through your lines and placement. As you were preparing hair and makeup, he popped into the trailer to introduce himself.
“Um, hi. Are you Anna?”
“Hi! Yes I am.”
“Oh hi! I'm Pedro. It's so nice to meet you.”
He extended his hand and as you were presenting yours a shock came between the both of you at the touch of his hand sending you jumping out of your seat.
“I'm so sorry! I guess I have too much static in my clothes."
He ran his hand through his hair nervously but covered with a beautiful smile that made your cheeks warm up.
“I just wanted to wish you good luck today and hope to talk to you more."
“Thank you for that. I hope so too."
As he attempted to walk out he slipped on the stairs to the trailer and hit his back on one of the steps.
“Oh my God! Pedro, are you ok?" You went to go help him, but he quickly got up and acted like nothing had happened.
“No no no, I’m good, I just wasn’t paying attention! See ya!” Embarrassed, he quickly left the trailer and shut the door.
You smiled and giggled from just what had happened but carried on finishing hair and makeup before they called you up.
After a long day of shooting, your scenes were done and finally were heading home where a bowl of cereal and a pair of pjs were calling your name. As you were getting closer to your car, you noticed a strange person pacing themselves back and forth by it. He was wearing thick square glasses with a dark blue long sleeve crew neck sweater, khaki shorts with colored stripe socks, and sneakers. If that didn’t give out sketchy stalker vibes then what will? The nerves started kicking in as you started reaching for your pepper spray inside your purse.
From afar you started raising your voice to give a fair warning.
“Umm hello, whoever you are! I just want to let you know that I have pepper spray in my purse and I'm not afraid to use it?”
“Hi Anna! It's me, Pedro."
Relieved but a little confused, you looked around expecting to see someone else. But the only people in the parking lot were you and Pedro.
“Ummm, hiiiii! Were you waiting here for me or someone else? Because I saw that you were walking back and forth by my car?”
“Shit, sorry to scare you like that. I mean yeah I was actually waiting for you”.
Taken back by what he just said “You were?”
He started laughing but in a cute flirtatious way. “Actually, I asked my assistant to ask when you were done filming so that I could track you down. I wanted to see if I could take you out for dinner."
Shocked, you let out a small chuckle. "Are you serious? Why me? Wait - how long have you been waiting for me?"
“Half an hour." He replied.
“Pedro, you should have gotten my number!" You laughed.
His fingers brush his mustache nervously .
“I think we clicked this morning and we hit it off when we were shooting. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you so I had to track you down."
“I think we hit it off as well. But next time get my number. Don't be getting all stalker mode.”
He let out the biggest laugh that made you smile.
“So is that a yes?” he asks as he puts on the cutest puppy face to try and convince you.
“Oh no, how can I resist that puppy face? Of course I would love to go out to dinner with you."
He took you to a Cuban restaurant in LA because you had mentioned to him during takes that you were home sick and missed your mom’s cooking. Not wasting any time you ordered a rum and coke as soon as the waiter came in. Not sure if this was a first date you were in sure need of liquid.
“Rum and coke?” Pedro asked.
“Yes, it's my go to drink and plus I'm a little nervous,” you replied.
He chuckled “Nervous? Would it be weird if I'm kinda nervous too?.”
Shocked and taken off guard you quickly lift your glass and chug half of your drink.
Well this should be fun, you thought.
“So tell me why are you single?” he bluntly asked you as he picked up his beer. He looked so relaxed asking you such a personal question.
“Straight to the hardcore questions I see, Mr. Pascal.” You jokingly tell him.
“Life has been complicated for me and the cards never aligned with me. It’s hard to find someone to settle down with in this city.” you explained to him.
Pedro pushes his glasses back “Well….. maybe we can change that.”
“Maybe we will.” as you looked at him while taking your drink.
The night went on as the both of you were telling jokes, talking about each other's lives, interests and you come to find out that the both of you have a lot in common. Flirtation was on high alert between the both of you.
While waiting for the check he popped open his phone and scooted close to you and brought you close to him. He turned on the camera of the phone and put the selfie mode and the both of you got together cheek to cheek and took a picture.
“What is this for? Just in case you murder me and you have an alibi? Plus do you know that you are taking video and not camera?” you joked.
“Oh crap I always do this wrong.” He quickly changes the photo mode and takes the picture. As he took out his wallet to pay the bill he presented his other hand to you and said “To answer your question I want to take a picture of us because it would be something that we can look back on as a reminder of our first date.” The biggest smile came from you as you believed he was hinting something to you.
The two of you made your way through the neighborhood towards your apartment complex.
You arrive at your doorstep, turn to him with a twisted smile, not sure what to do next.
“Well this is my place. Thank you for tonight Pedro. I really had a good time tonight.”
Pedro smiled at you “I had an amazing night too, Anna. It feels good to go out with someone new that I can get to know and maybe more.” As he inches closer to you the keys from your purse slipped out as you were searching for them. Pedro grabbed them and his wrist accidently brushed your ankle and you instantly gulped, his touch made you weak in the knees.
He presents you your keys and his hand brushes your palm as he places the keys on your hands “I believe you need this.”
“Clumsy me,” you blush.
Pedro slowly approaches you once more “Just a little clumsy but it's cute.”
He places a soft short kiss and slowly retreats back a few inches and the both of you are stuck looking deep into each other's eyes. Without hesitation, you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into an intense kiss. His energy matches yours by the roughness and gentleness that the both of you were having. He gently grabbed your neck and pulled you even more to him and the kiss grew to become more passionate. The both of you fall back against your apartment door. Your hands glide through his curls. You tease him by slightly biting his lower lip and in return he wanders his hands all over your body. The intensity was getting fierce between the both of you. When all of a sudden-
“Umm excuse me Miss?” The apartment complex security interrupted the moment.
Your lips departed from his and the both of you started giggling as Pedro placed his chin on your forehead to brush out the embarrassment as the both of you waited for the security guard to leave.
Letting go of his hand, you placed a soft kiss on his cheek “I gotta go but thank you again. I hope for more soon.”
You open the door, walk in and slowly turn back to him “Good night Pedro.”
Your life was never the same after that date.
While your relationship with Pedro flourished, so did both of your careers. After the first season of The Mandalorian, Pedro went on to do several movies while you got several acting jobs that gave you the status per the tabloids of “Rising Stars to Watch”. After 2 years in the business you finally scored your big break in the role of a lifetime. You were cast as a series regular in Law and Order SVU. Filming for the show was done in New York which meant that you had to move from Hollywood to New York. This was a secret that you wanted to share with Pedro but you were waiting for the right time to share it with him.
New Year's Eve 2019…
Pedro’s best friend Oscar invited you and Pedro to spend New Years with them in his apartment in New York. This was going to be the perfect opportunity to share the good news with Pedro. On the night of the party right before the clock struck 12, you pulled Pedro to the side and finally told him about the casting news and he couldn’t control his excitement. He grabbed you and twirled you around as the clock was striking 12 and in that moment he told you the words that you were waiting for him to tell you.
“I love you A.”
You ran your hand across his little curl that was hanging in his face and you repeated the words back to him, “I love you.” and he gave you the most passionate kiss.
He asked you to move into his apartment because he didn’t want you living alone when he had a place that he could share with you. Moving in with your famous boyfriend was a big step in your relationship but you felt that things happened for a reason so you accepted his offer to move in with him.
One of the things that you loved and respected about Pedro was that he didn’t share his personal life events in social media. But he was so excited that he asked Oscar to take a picture of the both of you and in that moment, he posted the picture with a cop and heart emoji next to it.
For the next three years, New York was your home for personal and work. Life for you was going exponentially well. Hard work was finally paying off when after two seasons you received your first Emmy nomination for your role in Law and Order. As your professional life was increasing in fame you were in an amazing relationship with an amazing man. Pedro was becoming the leading man in Hollywood with roles from The Bubble to The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and he became the top notch actor when he was cast in the leading role of a lifetime as Joel Miller in The Last of Us.
Crazy schedules between the both of you became the new norm for the both of you. Even though you had gotten used to the hectic schedule, it was taking a toll on your relationship and the spark wasn’t there as it used to be. While he was in Calgary filming, you had decided to go visit him because you had the weekend off. You wanted to speak to Pedro about the concerns you had.
It was a cold spring day when you arrived in Calgary. You had called his assistant to check his schedule so that you could surprise him. They led you to his apartment that he was staying at in Calgary and you just waited for him to arrive. It was going to be a while until he arrived so you took advantage and took a nap.
The next day….
You were awoken by the sound of a key entering the door knob. You quickly react and look at your watch and it shows 6am the next day. What had turned out to be a couple of hours ended up being the next day. You were only going to be there 3 days and you just lost one whole day.
As he walked towards the living room he saw you on the sofa and was shocked by your presence.
“Babe? What are you doing here?”
Slowly getting up from the sofa, you gave him a kiss to greet him. “Well, I came to surprise you and I had asked your assistant what your schedule was and she had told me that it was only a couple of hours of shooting so I decided to wait here for you. I laid down and I fell asleep.”
Pedro looked tired and just wanted to go to sleep.
“Yeah we had a long shoot and we finished a couple of hours ago. I just came straight here.”
Bothered by his response “Did your assistant tell you that there was something for you at the apartment?”
“I mean they did but I didn't know it was you. Why didn’t you just call me?”
“Well you barely called or text me today, Pedro, or I would have just told you.”
Pedro slumped himself into the sofa and didn’t look at you. It had been almost a month since the last time the both of you had seen each other.
You got up and faced him:
“Ok something is going on. Pedro, is something wrong with you? Are you ok?”
It was in that moment as tired as he was that he told you that he thinks that the both of you need space. He felt at the moment that with everything going between the both of you and careers that it was best that you take some time apart to concentrate on your careers. Asking when he came to that realization and he expressed that he had been thinking about it for a couple of months but didn’t want to break your heart and never had the moment to tell you. Unexpected by the words and really shocked that he wanted to end the relationship, you didn’t wait to react. You quickly grab your stuff and leave the apartment without saying a word to Pedro and head back to the airport to catch the first flight back to New York.
You hadn’t shed a tear yet since the bad news and you were just building it up inside until you arrived at the apartment.
Current day…
“Ready to go A?”
“What? Umm yeah. I'm just grabbing my purse.”
Slowly passing your finger on the frame that held that selfie picture from your first date. The last tear you would shed comes down your cheek and was quickly wiped away as you place the frame back on the stand.
“I’m ready. Let’s go Chloe, I need to get out of this place.”
Four years of memories all cramped into luggage. You took one last look at the apartment as you unclipped the apartment key from your keys and placed it on the table stand. Not leaving a note was the best thing you did. Before you shut the lights and closed the door, you took one last look and quietly said “Goodbye old life” and shut the door.
3 months later ……
Award season had commenced and you were busy attending the majority of events. Solo of course. Pedro hadn’t mentioned to the media about the breakup and neither did you. Every red carpet you attended, when a question was asked about him, you would just lie and say he was busy filming in Calgary and that was the reason he couldn't attend. With every question that was asked about him, you would swallow your emotions and try your best to not let it get to you.
The Emmys finally arrived and it was the event you had been anticipating. It ended up being the best night of your life because you won the Emmy you were nominated for. While everyone was expecting Pedro to be there, you brought your assistant as your date to the awards show. Looking beautiful in a gorgeous gown, you walk up the stairs to the podium to accept your award. In your speech, you were able to thank everyone - friends, family, cast, and agent, but no mention of Pedro. You returned to your seat where you would look at your phone which had endless missed calls and text messages but the one text or call that you really wanted never came in. Disappointed as you were, it wasn't going to let you drag the night. Arriving back to your hotel at 4am from celebrating in the after parties, right before you jump into your bed, the phone dings with a new text message. When you take a look you were surprised by who it was:
New Text Message 4:30am - Pedro - “Congrats A! You deserve it. All my love. P”
The message was there staring back at you. Should you text back? Should you not? Every single question arises from this one text from him but in the end you shut the phone off and went to sleep.
The next two months you were filming in Venice for a new movie with Bradley Cooper. Keeping busy keeps you focused and not thinking about Pedro. A month into filming you had seen Pedro’s instagram that he was also in Venice filming a new commercial for a video game. But while the temptation was there for the both of you, neither one texted or called each other to meet up. While the gossip columns were creating rumors that there was an off screen romance with Bradley Cooper, and that he was your rebound from Pedro, you were always to laugh when you would hear such ridiculous rumors.
You were asked to be a presenter at the Oscars, which was an amazing and exciting opportunity for you. Looking your best was your number one priority. Valentino had called you up and wanted to dress you for the event which made you excited, but also more nervous about going. When they presented you a rough draft of the dress, you were amazed by the presentation of the dress and how it showed off all your curves, which was exactly what you were looking for.
A week before you were told that the last batch of presenters were announced, lo and behold, Pedro Pascal is one of them. In the height of his fame, between all his projects, of course he would be a presenter. A knot in your stomach came about from the news.
Will he speak to me?
Will he bring someone?
Oscar Day…
Oscar prep day was mayhem. You spent the whole day prepping. Immense pressure was building up as this was a once in a lifetime event and you wanted to look your ultimate best. Nerves were starting to creep as you settled in behind the SUV. Your hands were slick with sweat from nerves of going to this and at the same time seeing Pedro for the first since the breakup. As the SUV arrived at the Roosevelt Hotel, you felt like throwing up. Not only were you nervous about being here, you were tormented by the fact of running into him after so much time. As the driver walks around to open the door, one word pops out as you slowly whisper to yourself.
“Showtime”
The door is open and the whole audience looks at you and starts screaming and shouting your name. As you walked to the carpet you put on the biggest smile and wave to the crowd.
Chloe had prepped you on what to do and where to go on the carpet. It felt like a video game that you had to battle through and get to the finish line. The finish line was the champagne carpet. Making your way through the red carpet, you took pictures with your fans and made your way through the interviewing portion. Still feeling overwhelmed and starstruck, the nerves kick into high gear when you arrive at your first reporter. The typical questions were asked:
“How are you doing?”
“Who are you wearing?”
“Who are you excited to see?”
The first two sets of interviews went by like a breeze. The champagne carpet was getting closer and closer as you finished each interview. No personal questions had been asked, but you were dreading the questions that would come from Entertainment Tonight. They would typically ask gossip questions and it wasn’t so much about the fashion. The interview started smooth:
“Anna, you look stunning. One of the best dressed of the night! I’m sure everyone’s jaws dropped as soon as you walked on the red carpet.”
“Well, thank you for that. It’s all the work of my amazing team that helped me get ready.”
“Are we riding solo tonight?” - the question she was dreaded to be asked.
“Well, by date if you mean this nice Bulgari necklace that came along with the bodyguard then no I am not riding solo.” The interviewer laughed at your response and followed up with another question.
“Speaking of solo, there has been speculation that you and Pedro were possibly back together since the both of you are here today. Is that rumor true or should we put the rumor to rest?”
You instantly cringed.
“Well I didn't know that he was coming tonight. Whatever happened between myself and Pedro is for us to keep private. It was a mutual decision to just stay friends. I am sure we will bump into each other tonight and we will be able to catch up. I know he has been busy the past couple of months so it will be great to see him.”
The reporter turned to the camera while you stared at her in the background “Well guys, there's a shot for you now. Good luck to all.” You giggled at her comment as she turned back to you.
“Before you go, I want to congratulate you on the movie you are doing with Bradley Cooper.”
“Oh thank you.”
“I heard there was a romance. With everything that has gone with your personal life, how did you get ready for this role?”
“With everything that has changed in my life the past year, whether professionally or personally, I have been able to use that experience and incorporated that into this role. Filming this movie has been a learning experience and being around veteran actors like Bradley has helped me become a better actor.”
“Well, that is going to be an amazing movie and I cannot wait to see it! Thank you so much and have a great evening.”
The interview concluded and a huge relief fell off your shoulders. The champagne carpet was next and then you are home free. The Champagne Carpet was just all photographers flashing lights and screaming your name to take different angles of you. Carefully, you walked to where there was a star placed on the floor which was where you were to stand. Everyone was completely mesmerized by your appearance. The stunning silk red beaded dress hugged all your curves. The dress featured a leg slit that was bound to make people’s jaw drop. To finish your look, you wore a matching necklace along with a pair of red stunner heels. As you posed for pictures, the paparazzi started screaming for your attention.
“Lady in red! Hey Anna over here!”
“Anna! Anna! Over here please!”
Feeling in the moment, you didn’t care who was calling your name. You made sure that every angle was taken of you and your gorgeous dress.
As you were finalizing the last couple of shots, a change of phase was done and all of sudden the name you didn’t expect to hear was starting to be shouted.
“Pedro! Pedro! Pedro!”
With a smile on your face as pictures were taken of you, you just felt frozen and wanted to quickly get out of there. There he was, a few feet from you. You felt your blood was rushing from your head to your heart. Seeing him for the first time since the day you ran out of the Calgary apartment reminded you that whatever life you had shared with him in the past was just the past.
Taking a quick glance you saw him looking remarkably handsome. His hair was slicked back. He was wearing a fitted black tailored tuxedo with a white stand-collar shirt. Rings? Were those rings he was wearing? He reminded you of Dieter Bravo role with the rings. He had a ring on his left hand like a wedding band. Did he get married? Your chest started to compress on thinking that thought and not knowing if that was true. Did he come with a date? His wife?
In a split second, you swallowed a sigh of relief.
“Javiera, big smile! What is it like coming with your brother?”
“Javiera! Pedro! Over here!”
Chloe noticed that you were trying to get out of there and quickly called your name before you cracked under pressure. You noticed from the corner of your eye that Pedro was starting to head to you and Chloe grabbed you so fast to take you out that Pedro didn’t catch your attention.
“Anna, everything ok?” Your eyes wandered again back to Pedro as you saw him still taking pictures.
“Yeah I’m fine. Let’s go inside.” You nodded your head as it made you believe your flat out lie you were telling yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was to give the press newsworthy gossip.
Luckily, they placed the both of you in different areas in the theater so there was no interaction between you. During the ceremony, you would engage and fangirl with all the celebrities that you met. Despite trying not to cross paths with Pedro, you had an overall good time at the ceremony.
Few hours later, after the ceremony
If there was an after party that one had to be invited to, it was the Vanity Fair party. You made your way through the carpet and into the party. Once you were given directions and you were inside the party, you headed straight to the bar to grab a drink.
“Rum and coke please?”
As you were waiting for a drink a strong hand grasped your wrist. You instantly turned and were taken back by who was in front of you.
“Oh shit did I scare you? I'm so sorry.” Pedro directed you.
Completely off guard, you grinned at him. In that moment, you really wanted to fall into his arms and give him the biggest kiss, but held back. Though you were still hurting from the breakup you were still in love with him.
You laughed “No way! You didn’t scare me.”
He started getting giddy and sounded nervous as he complimented how you looked. As the place started getting crowded, Pedro moved closer to you.
“How have you been? I know we haven’t spoken since that day. I have been wanting to reach out but I figured you didn’t want to talk to me.”
Looking directly into his eyes and not wanting to let your emotions out, you respond to his comment to be as real as it could get.
“I've been fine. Keeping myself busy with work.”
“I noticed. Your movie with Bradley looks amazing. I’m really proud of you. You have come so far from being an extra on Mando.”
You gave him a meaningful smile. The music started getting louder and it was getting difficult to talk or hear each other. Pedro got even closer and now he was inches from your face. He slowly moved his lips over to you and whispered “I would like to catch up with you if that’s ok with you? Save me a dance ok?”
It was clear both of you wanted each other. As he gradually touched your arm a shock came across the both of you.
“Ouch! Are you ok A?”
Rubbing your arm from that tingling sensation you laugh and smile at him.
“I guess we always shock ourselves.”
The party was electric. Champagne was flowing from wall to wall. Award winners were showing off their new accessory to everyone who was in attendance, while you enjoyed partying it up on the dance floor. Pedro was sitting close by and his eyes were on you as you danced with everyone in your vicinity. You knew he was watching, so you took the chance to dance the best way that would attract his attention. His close presence wasn’t going to let you ruin your night. The DJ was on point with the music that they were playing when all of a sudden the dj drops “Let’s Go Crazy.”
Shit, Oh no! This is one of his favorite songs!
Right when the first verse commenced, you felt a strong grip grab and turn you around.
“Can I have this dance?” You nodded. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. The both of you sway to the rhythm of the music. You place your arms around his shoulders, bringing you closer to each other. Everyone is for sure looking at the both of you. As the music continues, both of you had your eyes locked on each other. Things were heating between the both of you. His lips looked so delicious and you want to take a bite of it. The tension between you was orgasmic, making you breathless when the song abruptly ends.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod your head up and down. He lays his hand on your side and brings you closer and places his lips on yours. It had been seven months since you last kissed him and yet this kiss felt like the first time he kissed you on that first date.
Backing away from him you realize this was wrong.
“I miss you A,” he quietly told you.
Seemingly confused, you let go of hands. He was probably talking nonsense. It was clear that the both of you wanted each other and alcohol was not helping the situation. He inched closer towards you again and glided his hand down your back, his fingers warm where your skin was exposed, pulling you closer to try and kiss you again.
“I can’t do this.”
Picking up your dress, you headed outside to get some air. The air felt crisp as you placed your hands on the edge of the balcony rail looking out to the flashing LA lights. Your chest started compacting. Breathing was becoming shorter. The lights were starting to become extremely bright and you were losing sense of what was going on with you and started to feel like you were going to faint.
Were you losing your mind?
Were you having a panic attack?
Did you drink too much?
Don’t make a scene at the Oscars. You can’t be on the front page.
Placing your hand on your chest, you quickly tried to calm yourself when suddenly Pedro saw and quickly ran towards you.
“Hey, hey! Look at me. It’s me. It’s me. Breathe, baby girl! Breathe, baby girl!” He slowly placed his hands on your cheeks as you looked into his eyes to calm down. The breathing started to slow back down, the flashing lights started to dim and come back to normal. Pedro grabbed you carefully and sat you down as he went to grab you some water. After a couple of breaths, you felt reality slowly coming back to you.
He hands you the glass and sits next to you.
“Are you ok?’’
You nodded.
“What happened? Did I do something wrong? Was it the kiss?”
“No, no. The kiss was ….” you paused and turned to look at his gorgeous face. “It was amazing. It reminded me of when we first kissed. But it just felt wrong.”
He slowly grabs your hands and your fingers intertwine with his.
“I miss you, A. What I did was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you go.” His eyes are pleading and wide just like a lost dog wanting to be loved again.
Your heart starts to race. “P, I don’t think I can do this again.”
“Why not?” As he continued to plead to you. “You don’t love me anymore? That kiss that we had back there showed me that there is still something between us. Don’t you want that again?”
“Pedro, you decided to end this relationship. When I came back to New York I cried for you. I didn't know what to do or how to feel about myself.” Your heart starts racing even more and the tension is rising but you didn’t want to make a scene in front of people, so you hold yourself together.
“Look. I didn’t come to this event hoping to see you after all this time. I just can’t deal with this. You're just too late Pedro.”
As you start to walk away from him, he grabs you once again. “You don’t mean that A,” he tells you with his glossy eyes. “I wasn’t thinking right when I told you that.” He doesn’t make eye contact with you. “I was just tired and overwhelmed by everything going on with my life. This show is brutal and kicking my ass but I want it to be perfect. I just lost myself in it. Everyday I woke up and I felt out of place. I feel empty inside and it's because you aren’t with me.”
Visually upset, you rush towards him. “P, you could have talked to me, told me how you feel. I could have taken days off from the show to be together. But you didn’t do that. You just decided not to be with me. Four years! Four years of growing and experiencing life moments together and all for what? I don’t want to be with someone that can’t be open and then leaves them high and dry when things become difficult. I just can’t do that and I'm done with this.”
Wanting to get out of there, you quickly pick up your dress and started heading back towards the party, when you feel a hand pulling your shoulder around, spinning your whole body the opposite direction. His lips pushed against yours and his hands rested on your cheeks. You pull back after what felt like an eternity and look at his face. What you saw were sad eyes that made your heart ache. “A, I need you, I love you and I’m sorry.” You just needed to say it back.
Say it.
Say it.
You need him, you love him and you forgive him.
But you don’t want to get hurt again. You slowly give his hands a slight squeeze and let them go.
“I love you P but I just can’t.” Your voice cracks as a tear finally gives way and slips down the side of your face as you walked past him, leaving Pedro all alone in the balcony as you disappeared into the crowd.
“I don’t understand why you can’t leave things unbroken, myself included!”
Broken
Pairing: Frankie Morales x wife!reader
Word Count: 670+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)
**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Frankie Morales Masterlist
--------
“I’m so sorry, querida.”
“It was supposed to be just a few days.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t even want you to go in the first place!”
Frankie is quiet for a moment before sighing. “I know. I should have listened, but-”
“But you just do whatever he tells you to do, right? Whatever Tom wants?”
“He was my leader for so long it’s just habit.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t give me that shit, Frankie. You’re a 43 year old man.”
His eyes fill with tears and for one second, I want to drop this argument, run to him and hold him close, tell him everything will be alright. But I promised him I’d never lie to him, cover my emotions, that I’d always be upfront and honest no matter how hard it is, so instead I stand my ground.
“I begged you not to go, Frankie. Begged. You left me. You left us,” I gesture towards our daughter’s bedroom across the hall. “You almost made me a widower and not for the first time! But then you almost made her fatherless. How could you do that?”
“I went to get the money to make a better life for you both.”
“Please. You went because Tom told you to and Santi batted his stupid eyelashes at you and you couldn’t say no.”
“That’s not it at all. I want to take care of you. Both of you!”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about money, Francisco! I only cared about you!”
“I lost my job, querida. What do you expect me to do?”
“Not get yourself killed! You’ve put me through so much hell, and then I got pregnant and you did it again with the drugs, and then you up and disappeared for nearly 2 weeks to Colombia on some..some…heist or whatever! You could’ve died in those mountains and I’d have never known-”
“I know, I’m sorry querida-”
“I don’t understand why you can’t leave things unbroken, myself included!” I sit down on the bed, burning my face in my hands as tears roll down my cheeks.
Frankie walks over to me, hesitating before putting his hand on my leg, rubbing small circles into my exposed skin. I let him do that for a few moments before I lean my head on his shoulder. Immediately, he shifts towards me, pulling me into his broad chest and embracing me as I cry, heaving tears that are so no classy as I let out all of my fear and worry and anger from these last 2 weeks. I drop my hands and bury my face into his chest, inhaling his scent and feeling the warmth seep from him into me, grounding me and comforting me as he’s done so many times before.
“I thought you’d left me forever, Frankie.”
He squeezes me closer. “I almost did. But I fought for you, for our daughter. I had to get back to you. I was so scared I wouldn’t make it, but I fought. I love you, querida. I will always fight for you. And I’m sorry for…everything.”
He holds me in silence for several more moments before speaking quietly, brushing his lips across the top of my head as he presses a kiss into my hair, inhaling my scent.
“Please don’t leave me.” He says it with such a small voice, almost no hope behind it, like he’d understand completely if I did. I sit up, my hands moving to cup his face, scratching the little patches in his bead. Frankie sighs into my touch, briefly closing his eyes before opening them, his eyes wide and worried.
“I could never leave you, Frankie. I just need you to be on our team. Talk to me when you’re having a hard time. I didn’t sign up for only your good parts. I want all of you. Ok?”
Relief floods his face, a small smile pulling at his lips. “I promise, querida. I love you so much.”
