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morallyinept · 6 months

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Candles - A Joel Miller Birthday One Shot

Summary: It's your birthday and you're convinced that Joel has forgotten. Or worse, that he's hiding something from you.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Smutty - Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) Angst & Joel being a miserable bastard on your birthday.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Written for my birthday. Completely self-indulgent; Joel's the best gift, right? For anyone else celebrating their birthday today, I'm sending you the biggest smooch. 💋🖤

Check out my other birthday story, featuring Frankie Morales, called Birthday Cake.

MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

Joel doesn't like birthdays.

His birthday, September twenty-sixth, was the day the whole world went to shit. Outbreak day.

He lost Sarah on his birthday. His watch stopped when he was shot at, so he can't be sure if it was still his birthday or not, but that day and the events are ingrained in his mind, carved into the blood smeared bone in the back of his skull.

The root of all of his resentment at how he failed to stick a bullet in himself and hold his sweet Sarah again in the afterlife.

Even before the world fell, birthdays were just another day. Another brick in the wall. But they matter to you; bending his ear constantly about imaginary scenarios and the types of things you’d do if you still could celebrate it.

He wants to tell you to quit harpin' on 'bout it, but he's not cruel, despite that reputation preceding him.

Ordinarily, your excitement at such a trivial thing of adding rings to your tree trunk would give him some morsel of joy, but not when it serves a harshly confronting reminder of everything he's lost.

He remains stoic and focused, unreadable. Life and constant, crushing hardship has turned Joel into a shell of the man he once was. He knows no peace, alienated from calm.

The ink is running off the pages in his book that you thought you could read so well in the early days. The chirpy rambling from your mouth soon dips and you withdraw, keeping schtum about it further when you see the hackles of his shoulders rise.

Your birthday has been on the approach for some time now, layers of carbonic dread forming under the skin as the days move closer and closer towards it, and it's evident that Joel doesn't share your enthusiasm.

And Joel, although resolute in his usual steeliness, seems more distracted as of late too.

The lights are on, but there’s no-one home when he looks at you anymore. Conversation has been reduced to annoyed grunts and the three-sixty roll of his eyeballs clacking around in his sockets more so than usual.

And it’s all reduced to ash as the uninvited thoughts begin to infect and plague you about the possible root cause.

You ask him, one gloomy afternoon as the rain pelts against the grubby pane in your shared apartment in the QZ. Joel invited you into his home in the embryonic stage of your courting. Cleared some space through the little that he has to accommodate you and slot you into his life this past year. Made room for you in his bed.

You struggle sometimes to remember what life was like without him, as cliché as it sounds. Almost a full, singular rotation around the sun and yet Joel feels ingrained in your blood, kindred.

So why do you feel so sick to your gut right now?

He’s pulling on his boots, a low grumble heard when he leans forward and he feels his back crack with the strain. You’re getting ready mentally for him to depart from you for a few days on a scouting run, and it gets harder each time he leaves.

“Joel, is everything okay?” You ask him, looking at him through the reflection in the glass from behind you, with eyes that tell you he knows that you know something is up with him.

More so than his usual grouchy self that you find endearing despite the fluctuating temperance. That a part of him isn’t functioning properly like it used to, and the thought of that - that you can see that so plainly when he tries his damndest to hide it from you - is disconcerting to say the very least.

What else are you hiding from me, Joel?

“What d’ya mean?” He asks, his eyes and thick fingers focused on battling with small knots that aren’t made for giant hands.

“Us.” You say tentatively like it's a foreign word in your mouth.

Taboo to announce it out loud; you've both never confirmed it wholly. It's always been assumed that you're his and he's yours.

You look at the bleak, grey of the outside world. A gated world that’s incredibly small, and getting smaller as the intrepid seconds wear on.

Questions, thoughts and images; all blinking through you trying to piece it all together whilst you move stagnantly through a heavy swamp of confusion. The exact truth is staring you in the face, but try as you might to refute it; it’s plainly obvious and it begins to terrify you in new ways.

He’s pulling away from you, has been for some time now.

You can feel it in your bones as they twist and contort under your skin mercilessly. Invading your dreams and depriving you of any sleep. Nightmarish images invade tenfold of a face you know, yet don’t at the same time.

Renegade tears make themselves acknowledged, at the most inconvenient of times, and there’s only so long you can convince Joel that it’s nothing or that of a pre-menstrual crisis starting, so he’d immediately back off.

He never pushes, never probes. And it's as equally welcome as it is frustrating at times.

Emotionally you’re a wreck and you need it to stop, or for certain realisation to bear its face to Joel. It’s been a lengthy waiting game. Teetering on the edge to realisation, although part of you already knows.

He just doesn't know how to tell you. How to break your heart. And it’s worse somehow, because he’s forcing you to do it instead.

“Ya bein’ stupid.” He says, finished with the tirade of mumbles and grunts directed at the laces, and stands.

You don’t say anything to him when he asks you to explain your odd behaviour in not so many words. Instead, you stand there, forehead propped against the mottled window, steaming up from your breath, and not facing him, sulking like a prepubescent teenager being scolded for staying out too late by an overbearing father.

You can see he’s growing testy and this irks you further. Should you finally go there, omit the truth and deal with the chips wherever they may fall? Would that even be possible?

You have to tell him what's swirling a cyclone in your mind, whether it's absurd or not, right?

His broad frame in the window reflects back at you. Stepped forward and closer now so he’s looming almost. You begin to inadvertently cower into yourself a little, arms encapsulating for warmth and reassurance, and you’re sure he’s noticed because he seems to grow in height, feeding off your inward distress. His eyes are piercing and his mouth is that thin, hard line again.

He tells you you're being stupid, but it does little to cease the heavy gnawing.

Sighing, he gathers his jacket and pack. The rifle resting on the table from cleaning it most of the early hours of the morning - and not spent in bed with you - is swept up in his hands.

He hasn't touched me in so long…

He must have observed your realisations no doubt, surely the man cannot be so blind to the plight and tension you feel when you're under his nose?

And if he took pleasure in seeing your mind switch back and forth from an aurora of amplified emotions, he certainly hid it fucking well from you.

Joel turns to you before he disappears outside the door. You cling onto a desperate hope for a moment that he’ll leave something soft to accompany you; give you some affirmative reassurance and confirm that your stupidity, is in fact, that.

But he doesn’t.

He simply shuts the door behind him and leaves you floundering. Your eyes prickle, but the tears don’t fall.

You’ve cried enough now over Joel Miller.

Your birthday arrives, the dawn spent waking up in the bed alone without Joel’s warmth suffocating you; his tan skin sticking you to him.

You can't remember the last time he was inside you. A part of you.

Despite wanting to indulge in dysania, to sink into a despair that's been riding shotgun with you for a while, you will yourself up to continue with the monotony.

The day is spent as though meandering through a blur, your body robotically doing the things you’re supposed to, but your mind not being fully coherent.

Get up, eat a little something bland, exist… and so on. It's just another day. You don't even know why you expected anything different. You're foolish for even thinking it.

Your brain ticks continuously whilst your limbs belong to those of the infected that try to ravage you any chance they get beyond the walls of the QZ.

But what about those unanswered questions and coincidences floating around the apartment and jabbing you in the temple?

Joel’s disappearing acts and seeing him weary and more dishevelled when he did eventually reappear again? It's difficult to accept that you're replaceable. That the space you once fit in has been filled by something else.

Someone else, perhaps?

Your stomach lurches and you barely make it to the bathroom before you bring up all your fears and watch in numb disgust as they flush away. Piecing it all together to make any sense is a doom filled thought.

You're tired. You've had enough. You only succeed in confusing yourself further and are rewarded with a brewing migraine. And as you throw yourself onto the bed to get some rest to quell the ache behind your eyelids, you conclude that you now utterly despise birthdays.

Confronting him has to be the only option, but bravery’s lost to you; hidden away under the dank comforter, pulled up tight over its head, refusing to surface.

You're in the shower later that evening, washing away the day, when Joel returns from the scouting run.

You hear the sounds of the door rattle and his heavy sighs, even over the water flooding your ears.

But as you come out, hair dripping down your shoulders, he’s already left abruptly again, sealing you in with once more the claws of your festive loneliness.

You make you both some supper. A few cans he’d left on the table with peeling stickers and some without. The smell turns your stomach as you stare down at two plates of uneaten food that had long since gone cold and wonder how the fuck you've got here.

It's late when he comes back, startled somewhat to find you still sitting at the table. Glancing down at the food, his eyes soften and then they find yours, vacuous and empty.

You're not even pissed at him anymore.

Before he acknowledges you, you freeze momentarily and can’t abnegate yourself from looking at him, as much as you want to avoid it. But each time you falter, his hatchet eyes are staring right back at you, sending prickles all down your back.

The comprehension is a difficult task itself, but you're fruitless in your attempt to disentangle it all, even if you aren't going to be the victor in this battle that you're bound to lose.

You're going to lose him.

Perhaps you already have. You want to remember his face, so you take it all in as he hovers by the door; a large hand twisting and groping at the knob unconsciously as it squeaks around the crush of it, a nervous tick.

He’s anxious, worried. He wants this to be quick and painless. As do you.

Even if Joel has completely no idea what's been happening, surely he had to know how this situation cuts you open, how you're bleeding onto the floor.

How can he not see it?

You feel no animosity towards him at this precise moment, which confuses you further, but more of a sense of intrusion. You aren't ready for this now that he's actually here.

Joel's reaction is unguarded and you can see him looking at you, somewhat askance, around the crinkled edges of his eyes. You soften a little and let him have a final smile from you.

Something for him to remember you by.

“I have somethin’ I wanna show ya.” He says, quietly to you.

You look at him carefully as you baulk.

“What is it?” You question, suspiciously.

“Just… c'mon.” He holds out his hand, an olive branch, and you stand.

You don't take it as you follow him out into the scabby hall where the wallpaper peels and the carpet still has that burnt umber stain of blood from decades ago.

He leads you towards the stairway, heading up them and you follow, still confused.

Once you reach the top floor of the building, and the door that leads out onto the roof, Joel slightly out of breath as he rests for a second, he instructs you to close your eyes.

“Keep ‘em closed.” He murmurs to you and you feel his hand inside yours now.

Skin on skin. It makes you audibly gasp at the warmth of his touch and you remember how he feels as it tugs the remaining strangled beats out of your heart.

Joel’s hands are always warm, even if he wields death about so freely with them. You feel his grip tighten in yours, guiding you down the stone steps out onto the roof where the cool air of the dark autumnal night pierces through your thin, moth-eaten sweater.

“You’re not planning on pushing me off the roof, are you?” You snicker. But it would be a kindness, considering.

You have your other arm out in front, feeling your way, blindly.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Joel mutters. There’s a smile inside of his words; you can hear it, although his tone is hard like granite. You miss that smile.

Your feet are clumsy as you step and you wobble.

“I got ya.” He steadies you, his other hand on your hip and the feel of it makes your skin burn up in a corona. It strips you of your breath.

He stops and lets go of you completely after a few more steps.

“Y’can open ‘em now.” Joel whispers to you. You can feel his breath against your ear and it leaves you feeling warm despite the nip in their air at the new altitude on the roof.

Despite the fact that you're slowly dying.

You take a breath. A slow breath to steady your nerves. You're not sure you're ready for it. Perhaps if you can keep them closed, it will never happen.

You won't have to watch him walk away.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing when you finally open them, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

But it's anything but. It stuns you.

The roof is lit with candles; hundreds of them, maybe even a thousand there's so many. All various sizes, thicknesses, colours and in different states of burn, casting eerie, yet brilliant shadows across the brick walls.

They trail all the way across the rooftop towards you. Flickering in the gentle night’s breeze, it invokes an immediate tranquil state within you, and the warmth emanating from this gloaming wonder is enough to stop the prickles on your skin almost instantly.

"Joel..." you murmer, perplexed.

It must have taken him ages to set this up, and you’re momentarily lost for words in the confusion that makes itself known at the back of your throat in dumb astonishment.

Joel watches as you walk amongst them, slowly taking it all in and holding your palms out to feel their warmth kissing at your fingertips.

The surprise and wonder spreads out on your face as you turn back to him in wordless disbelief.

“Made it with a few seconds to spare.” He glances at his watch, then realises it’s still broken, still a constant, crushing reminder strapped to his wrist, and then beholds you with a crooked smile melting away.

You look back at him, with a frown starting to topple your awe.

“Ya thought I forgot,” Joel confirms.

You shake your head. “No. Just thought you didn’t care about it, is all.”

He steps forward to you, the flames flickering all around you both. “I care 'bout you.”

You feel your heart stop beating for a second. “You didn’t have to do this...”

“I wanted to. I know m'a grouch and-”

“Joel. Stop talking.” The low timbre of his voice jars you. It's gentle in its gruffness. And it’s too much as your eyes well up without your control, without your say so.

“Hey,” he turns your head to him, to face him head on. His thumbs smoothing across your cheeks as you grip onto his thick wrists.

“I thought-”

“I know what ya thought. S’not gonna happen, okay?” He says earnestly and for the first time in what feels like a long time, Joel pulls those inane fears out of you and stamps on them until they’re all dead.

You nod, sniffing the tears back with all your might, but they fall in your stringent relief anyway.

“C’mere,” he crushes you into his stacked chest, the soft ebb of his heartbeat the only sound you can hear as it clears out the dusty crevices of your mind.

You pull away to marvel and feel the balminess from the candles all over your body.

“See, it’s things like this that make me believe you’re human after all,” you whisper in complete awe.

He frowns. “Ya wrong ‘bout that.”

You scoff. “Are you kidding me? Look at this, Joel. At what you did, for me. It’s... amazing. Are you seriously going to tell me that a monster would do that for someone, because I don’t believe that?”

He can see the reflection of a thousand or so candles in your eyes, twinkling back at him like glitter.

After being lost in them momentarily, he rubs up and down your arms with his hands.

“Y'don’t believe in monsters, do ya? Even when the world's full of 'em?” He questions carefully.

“Not in the slightest. People are just people.” You reply. Although some of them admittedly more fucked up than others.

“What 'bout people who do bad things?”

You look at him sincerely. And it makes more sense now. There's still a wall there. “They’re still people.”

Joel absorbs your answer, the answer you always give him when he gets like this. When he needs you to convince him there's still good in the world, because you're good.

When he feels unworthy.

“D’you believe that a man can ever be changed of his ways?” Joel asks.

“People can always change, if they really want to. Why?”

“Hypothetical question.” He replies, quickly.

“Do you really believe that you’re a monster, Joel?” You ask him carefully.

You watch as he kicks up a piece of grit on the ground repeatedly, unsure of whether he'd heard you at first.

“Y’don’t," he begins and makes his way back after losing it for a second. "Y'don't make me feel like one.” He mutters with rust in his throat.

You take his hands, those giant, calloused paws inside your own and squeeze them until he can’t feel them anymore.

He looks at you, and it bothers him more than it should do - more than he would have liked it to - the thought of you at home alone, especially on your birthday, thinking that he was going to leave you as he was filling his pack full of all the candles he could scavenge in and around the QZ.

Months of planning and keeping this from you, and you thought he was going to say goodbye. Surely that's monstrous, for him to have allowed it to get so bad.

He failed you. He made you feel unworthy. And that doesn't sit right with Joel Miller.

He watches as you stare a while at the candles, flickering in the night’s air with the inviting sound of silence to accompany you both.

No thrashing heartbeat, no thudding of blood pulsing in your ears. No static.

Just a strange peace, which has seemingly gorged on all the confusion, all the angst and fears that had been mounting within you for so long.

He goes to speak, clears his throat of the block, and then chokes on his words as he tries to assimilate them together into something coherent, something meaningful.

You turn to him sensing his unease and it equally fascinates and infuriates him that you can do that; that you can put him at ease to get them out without sounding like a bumbling fool.

You sense that what he wants to say will be relevant and would give you what you need, but you never expect him to say, in all your remotest dreams or fears:

“I love ya.”

He’s known it for a while. Felt that this was more than just two people surviving and fucking together through the dark nights to feel anything more than just pain and existing.

Joel had poked his head in the bathroom one evening, watching as you’d showered after a rough day and a close call; your body mottled with dirt and bruises and he’d felt it then.

That overpowering need to protect you. To keep the bad things at bay, even if that meant he had to do some bad things in exchange. His soul was a fair price to trade to keep you by his side. And what's love, if it's not protection?

Helping you out with a towel ready for you, bubbles splodged all up your back and glistening at him, he realised that perhaps he was falling in love with you.

He didn't want to be in love with you though. He wanted to keep you at bay, to not let you in under the layers of his skin. Not let you unravel what was left of him; a small thread wound so close to the spool.

Love would make protecting you that much more difficult.

He was never confident in negotiating all the social interactions that came with dating, especially in this world now. It was foolish to bear your heart because at any point it could be ripped away and eaten.

But with you? His heart was always on his sleeve, soaking it damp in his blood. Whatever this was between you, it felt easy somehow, like breathing.

Joel could finally breathe.

There was no choice in falling for you. And Joel never wanted to make another choice ever again.

You reach up on your tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on his mouth; revelling in the feel of his mustache and greying scruff tickling soft at your face.

A feeling that if you never got to experience again, the way it leaves lightning streaking through your blood, would kill you.

You slip your tongue into his mouth and he welcomes you in, squeezing you closer to him and groaning around your taught gums. You lick gently across his bottom lip before taking it in your teeth and pulling deep growls from him.

“M’trying to be a gentleman here, darlin’. But if y’keep doing that, I’m fuckin’ ya up against the wall.”

His breath trips up in his throat and your body soars at his warning as it rolls acrid and sharp off his tongue into your mouth, forcing you to taste his cavities. To taste his promises.

He still wants you, he’ll always want you despite your stupid neuroses.

You bite and suck his lip again deliberately, and he growls.

"Ya leavin' me very little recourse."

“I love you, Joel.” You gasp as your hands grapple and devour him just as hungrily. Breathing out like a balloon losing its helium, you pant and moan for more air; for more of him.

He’s quick, like steam; power marching you backwards and your back hits the brickwork, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

The shadows of the night dance over his hard facial features and he glows ethereal at you from the candlelight illuminating his left side. A constant ying-yang of who he is and you want both sides of him, forever.

You want the distant and the present. You want the soft and the rough. You just want him.

"Say it again" he hisses.

"I love you-"

He silences you with a swamping kiss. Joel’s wilder now; like a rabid dog drooling all over you. His hands are clawing, groping and squeezing.

Quick, desperate fingers stripping you of your jeans and unbuttoning his own at the same time; a messy blur of his hands as you stay glued to his lips and taste the notes of his tongue.

He massages the soft fat of your buttocks, malleable warm flesh in his giant hands as he kneads gently with thumbs that’ll bruise. You can feel his cock pushing hard and swollen against your slit as he moves your ass back and forth, pulling you closer to his body.

Closer to the broken fragments of his soul.

"Joel…" you whine into his mouth with pathetic need, fingers curling into the hair at his nape.

"Tell me what ya want, darlin'." He sucks on your lip and lets it go with a little squelchy pop. Lips and tongue trailing across your jaw and feasting on the skin at your throat.

"You. Always you.” You mewl mesmerised as his cock slides up against your clit; your body flinches like it’s been electrocuted. You’re crashing, falling into him and surrendering. "Need you."

"Want me inside?" He groans as you nod, lost to the heated desire that burns through your body and drips down your thighs.

"Deep. Hard." You plead. You crave his chaos, it's been so long since you tasted it. "I need you."

"I want ya." He groans.

"Have me, fuck me. Joel, just fuck me, please!"

Hungry brown eyes are pulling yours into them as his swollen head delves into your soaked lips. His stretch burns, opening you up for him again. Sliding with ease into the hilt of you, where he ultimately belongs.

"Hear that? Hear how wet ya are for me? God damn..." He teases, pulling you closer by your ass cheeks as his fat cock pushes up inside the tight channel of your cunt.

You hiss as he pulls up your leg, wrapping it around his waist as he hoists you fully up against the wall. The brickwork is rough against your skin, despite the protective layer of your sweater that grazes against it as he starts to pummel.

He loses all control with you. Can never keep his shit together as you unravel him from that spool completely.

"Fuck," you groan, biting down on your lip as he fills you. His breath leaves him in a wheeze and floods your face as he thrusts in and out; marvels at how well you always take him until he’s completely obliterated.

You can feel yourself soaring, higher into the sky as it holds its arms out for you ready to pull you in. Only he knows how to take you to this height, to this place. A place where, for a moment, only you exist, the two of you, on this bleak rooftop, surrounded by decades of carnage.

But it’s all stripped away in his groans and your pants as you feed each other your imbibed love in a world where everything dies.

In a world where physical gifts are pointless and sparse tokens of fleeting affection, he does the next best thing. Joel gives you something that he knows you’ll always want.

He gifts himself to you.

“Ain’t ever leaving ya, y’hear?” He sounds off in your ear through reckless pants and groans that suffocate on the floor below you. “M’here, always here. Fuck!” He spits. "Gonna be inside ya always, darlin'."

You grip onto him, meeting him with every shunt of his hips into yours, feeling him continuously bottom out as the light from the candles start to blind you over his shoulder.

Feeling your mind grow and body start to pull apart. Feeling the wall scuffing and blistering against your flesh and revelling in the delicious masochism it evokes as he fucks you hard agasint it.

Fucks you like he’s never letting you go.

He laments it over and over. And you believe the sincerity.

“Harder.” You beg, your fingers digging into his shoulders; your nails leaving crescent moons indented in his neck.

"Joel, fuck me harder, please. I want it all."

“That’s some big smack talk for a little lady.” He pants with a smirk.

“Joel!” You whine as he speeds up, giving you what you want so wholly and irrevocably. "Fuck! Yes!"

Your howls of insistence are stripped of any sanity or verbosity as you let go fully and gush around his cock, right to the root.

Pumping himself harder into you and hearing you scream, feeling you buck with the pleasure of it all on the end of his cock as you shake and give him the best of yourself. The parts of you that are only for him to keep.

The part where you're completely stripped back and bare, and he can see you. And you're so fucking beautiful.

And it's right there, he can see it, that love you have back for him as your eyes come unstuck from the back of your head and stare into him as you can see all of him; bruised and fleshed with vulnerability.

Watery with relief, with the fading ebbs of your pleasure. The acceptance of this piece of him he's plucked from his chest and plopped in your hands.

And it's his complete undoing.

Joel grunts out your name as he releases, giving you the final pieces of him as he fills you full of his warm, thick spend.

“Fuck…” He drones, your arms tight around the back of his neck as you slip down the wall onto jellied feet.

His hands stay on your hips, cock slippery and poking you in the belly. Sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he tells you he loves you again on a barely there whisper.

You steal another glance round at the candles, their light blinding your retinas and searing this moment into your mind forever.

You kiss him and he kisses back harder, deeper; a man ravaged of affection, yet he still has small, bloodied parts of him left to share with you. Even if it fucking terrifies him.

“Happy birthday, darlin’,” Joel whispers.

You don’t need to blow out the candles and make a wish.

You’ve already got everything you want, right here, in your arms.

Thank you so much for reading this lil' birthday fic of mine! 🎉 Re-blogs & comments are always appreciated & fuel me. 🖤

MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

#jett's birthday #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fic #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #jett's pedro boys

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covetyou · 24 days

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Friends, pals, and internet strangers, please hear my desperate humble request for your help...

I am on the hunt for your favourite, most juicy, butt sex/anal play fics. It is a totally legitimate research project - the search for The Perfect Peach.

Of course, I will be sharing my findings with everyone in the form of The Perfect Peach Fic Rec list when the time comes, and I'll be adding to this indefinitely.

Ultimately, I am not fussy with what you send to me - I am open to any Pedro character, and any length fic (multi-chap? hit me! drabble? a-okay! oneshot? gimme!). The only rules?

must include anal play/anal sex/butt shenanigans

no deadline/time limit - my thirst is never ending

preferably, the P-boy is doing the butt stuff - this can be to a reader character, another character, another Pedro character...

self recs welcome!

(this last one exists because P-boy pegging fics seem to pop up for me all the time now, with great thanks to events like the Peg That Middle Aged Man Campaign)

Recommend a fic in the comments below, DM me, or shoot me an ask. Or, you can tag me! Feel free to tag me as and when you post, or slip me an @ in the comment section of a fic you think fits the bill.

And if you want to write some butt stuff just for me? Well, that's just peachy, and I might just love you forever.

I almost called this The Buttening, or a Buttstravaganza, but didn't want to be too weird.

#pedro character perfect peach #recommend-a-fic #the buttening #fic recs #its my birthday I'll ask for butt stuff if I want to #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #coveted recs #buttstravaganza

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earthchica · 1 year

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birthday king!

pairing: pedro pascal x black f! reader

summary: while being away for three months, you surprise pedro on his birthday weekend.

warning: fluff, smut (dirty talking, explicit, unprotected sex)

a/n: it's pedro's birthday and I decided to write my first fic for him. happy birthday, pedro! slightly unedited by please enjoy!

You were so excited to be back in L.A.

No one knew you were back, not even Pedro but your assistant and you wanted to keep it that way because it was a surprise.

You met up with your L.A. assistant first, getting the decoration and cake that you ask her to get for you.

You were happy to see her and chatted with her for a little bit before going home which wasn't far.

You glanced at your shared house and there was no signal of his car. You felt a little anxious but quickly relaxed.

He was probably out doing something. You got out of the car, thanked your driver, and went to the front door of your house.

Once you were inside, you kicked your shoes off and went to unload your suitcases.

Your phone began to ring. You took it out of your purse, looking at the caller ID.

It was Pedro, you answered it with the quickness. A grin on your face.

You 🐢💃🏿- "Hey, babe" you answered, sitting down on the bed.

Pedro 💗🕺🏽"Hey, cariño. What are you up to, how's the tour?" He asked, sounding like he was getting into his car.

You 🐢💃🏿"I'm not on tour at the moment, I'm at home unpacking" There was silence for a few minutes which made you giggle.

Pedro 💗🕺🏽"Wait, what?! You're here?!" Pedro asked confused but excited.

You 🐢💃🏿 "Yes, I got two weeks off and I wanted to surprise you but you weren't home."

Pedro 💗🕺🏽"Shit, I'm sorry, cariño. I was at the store but I'm on my way now."

You 🐢💃🏿 "It's okay, babe. I'll be here waiting on you. I got a little surprise for you"

Pedro 💗🕺🏽"Good, I can't wait to see you, Y/N. I miss you like crazy"

You🐢💃🏿"I miss you too, Pedro. I can't wait to see you also"

Once you both got off the phone, you began decorating the dining room a little bit.

Then putting on his favorite playlist, and make his favorite meal. You squealed excitedly, hearing the front door open and close...

You took a deep breath, cut the stove off, and placed the plated food down on the table.

You turned your head and noticed him standing there, looking at you softly.

"Hey, pedrito" Immediately when you said that Pedro comes over and pulls you into his chest.

He wraps his strong arms tightly around your waist, burying his face into your neck.

Placing soft kisses on your neck, bringing butterflies to life in your stomach.

You both stood there for a few minutes until you pulled away and kissed him on the lips.

Your right hand roamed up in his hair, making him let out a light moan as he pulled you closer.

"I missed you, C/N," He whispered the cute nickname he gave you while looking at you lovingly.

"I missed you too, Pedrito," You said with a smile, motioning him towards the table.

"I made your favorite," He looks at the table and then back at you with a smile.

At this very moment, Pedro was happy to have his favorite girl back here with him for just a little while.

Shortly after eating Lunch, chatting, and enjoying each other. You both were in the living room, cuddling while watching a movie.

Truly, neither of you was watching. "Pedro, stop" You giggled, moving his hands away from your waist.

"Watch the movie," You said, pointing to the tv. He stops and gives you a pout.

"Don't make that face" You said looking over at him.

"Why shouldn't I? I haven't seen you in three months, I miss you and I want to show you how much I do." He says, beginning to kiss your neck.

You moaned, rearranging yourself onto his lap and pulling him into a needy, passionate kiss.

Pedro growls, squeezing your ass harshly with his hands while his tongue begins dancing with yours.

You both begin to tear each other's clothes off, feeling so aroused for each other.

"Pedro, please no teasing. It's been too long, I need you now" You moaned as he began to kiss your inner thigh.

He nods, kissing his way back up to your lips as he positioned himself between your legs.

You moaned, feeling him thrust forward.

The very good feeling of his dick sliding into your pussy almost sent you over the edge.

Without warning, Pedro began pounding into you, making you grip him for dear life.

He lowers his lips to yours and kisses yours hungrily while still pounding into yours with an unimaginable speed.

He bites your shoulder and lets out a muffled moan, feeling yours clench around him.

"Ah, mierda. Te sientes tan bien, nena" He says in spanish, rearranging the position by lifting yours into his arms.

You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, throwing your head back.

The great pleasure that you both were giving each other was amazing.

The pounding rhythm of it all was sensual.

Your moans and groans were so loud together, that the neighbors across from you probably could hear you both.

You lifted your head and placed your forehead against Pedro, looking into his beautiful brown eyes as his fast pounding drove you crazy.

"Yes, Pedro. Fuck, I love you" You moaned, feeling your body tremble. You could feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

He groaned at your words, cupping your face and kissing you softly but passionately.

"I love you too, cariño."

You moaned, burying your face into his neck as he pounds harder and faster to the point you both orgasm together.

Pedro couldn't stop looking at the beauty sleeping next to him. Y/N's silk-pressed hair was sweated out.

Her lips were slightly open, and a cute little snore coming from her mouth.

Pedro couldn't help but caress her cheek, lingering on her neck. He drew a line down into her soft brown skin with his finger.

He smiled happily as she started to stir, slightly mumbling some stuff under her breath as she stretched out her limbs.

Pedro was so happy to have her here with him, it's been a tough three months without her and to wake up and see her laying next to him.

it was amazing, Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks before they opened, revealing your e/c eyes. (eye color)

You look at Pedro with a slight smile. Your eyes sparkled with the light seeping in from the cracked blind.

"Happy Birthday, Pedro!" You said with a yawn. He smiled and thanked you with a kiss on the lips.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x black reader #black reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal birthday #april 2nd

525 notes · View notes

wannab-urs · 2 months

Text

Outtakes - Monsterfucking

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Here's a list of fics I've read where either the Pedro boy, the reader, or everyone involved is a monster of some sort.

Summaries and tags are, in most cases, provided by the author - please be sure to read them as some of these fics may have content you do not wish to read.

Pedro boys currently included are: Joel Miller, Ezra, Din Djarin, Dave York, Marcus Pike, Dieter Bravo, Jack Daniels, Frankie Morales, Oberyn Martell, Max Phillips, and Tim Rockford.

updated 3/27/2024

Demon

Met the Devil Last Night

Joel one shot by @pedgito

I made a joke about wanting to screw dirt-covered Joel even if he was deep in the trenches of hell and...well, yeah. This is pure filth and nothing else. Porn with minuscule plot, if you will

fem!reader, demon!joel, no specific age gap since dude is a literal demon, but reader is early 20s and I picture Joel to be his younger self (around 36), mentions of su*cidal ideations, this all a completely made up concept pls don't come for me about rituals, ect i will cry. virgin!reader, reader's father is a priest and horrible (just a total douche)/mother isn't alive, spitting, oral, unprotected piv, blood drinking, competency kink, innocence kink, mutual masturbation

In Every Lifetime

Ezra series by @xdaddysprincessxx

It’s fall of 1974 in your quiet small town of Chesterfield when everything falls apart. Or is it the beginning?

Reader is mid to late 20s, witchcraft, tarot, yes the witchy things depicted in this is real witchcraft things, use of Latin

Common Courtesies

Din one shot by @juletheghoul

Pride and Prejudice vibes but Mr. Darcy is a sex demon

**pussy-eating** language, age-gap (legal, reader is of age) dirty talk, supernatural elements, sexist society, sexist comments from readers father

Solum

Dave York one shot by @ezrasbirdie

Are you lost?" Your heart seizes with fear at the deep rumbling voice, head jerking to look in the direction it came from. It’s too dark. You can’t see anything. "Who’s—who’s there?" You ask, hoping you sound braver than you feel. "You didn’t answer my question,” it said. “Are you lost?' You swallow. You shouldn’t be here. You’ve never stepped foot in this building before today. You have no business here. But lost? No. You’re exactly where you set out to be.

SMUT, dubious consent [reader wants to be with him, but he's a demon so you know—it's a little influenced]—dead dove, this is horror and Dave York is an actual demon who kills people, graphic violence, body horror, a dash of blood kink, oral sex

Sell My Soul For You

Marcus P one shot by @absurdthirst

During girls night out, you accidentally dial your boyfriend, Marcus Pike. He hears you complain about how vanilla your sex life is and that you need to him to be more dominant. Marcus proves he’s willing to do anything to please you, even if the cost is his soul.

Angst, hurt feelings, demon possession, dominant!Marcus, oral (male and female receiving), face fucking, spanking, pussy slapping, spitting, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, bondage/handcuffs, anal play, double penetration (fingers and cock), soft aftercare.

Incubus

Crawling Back to You

Dieter one shot by @prolix-yuy

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

religious corruption kink, bastardizing prayers, brief drug use, mentions of alcohol consumption, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, breaking a hymen, descriptions of blood, biting and drawing blood, pheromone incubus anatomy, size difference/kink like whoa, monster transformation, monster fucking, PiV sex, wildly unrealistic sex, kind of dubious consent in the way that she has no idea what she's getting into so Dieter checks in A LOT, consent is sexy and monsters especially should ask for it, Reader has no idea what she's doing when it comes to summoning an incubus.

Dream Within a Dream

Ezra one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Your dreams have become the escape from your draining life. When you discover you are not alone in your dreamworld, will all the aspects lacking in your waking life be fulfilled by your handsome companion?

dream fucking, loss of virginity, depictions and deviations of supernatural lore, erotic gore

Cryptid

Mothman Fever

Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

You and your friends head to Point Pleasant, West Virginia in late September for the Mothman Festival. And that’s where you meet Joel Miller, a fellow Mothman enthusiast. But once you spend some time alone with him you realize that he’s not who he says he is.

Smut, canon divergence, semi-public sex, alcohol, no outbreak, pet names (luna), oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, PiV sex, sex pollen, dubcon, monsterfucking

Oh, Honey

Joel series by @lincolndjarin

you’ve been given a gift. a fresh start in a brand new place, the sleepy little town of Honey, WV. a distant aunt has passed away and left you a little plot of land and her camper, the stars must be aligning for you because the local mortician is looking for an assistant and you’re desperate for the work experience. your new employer even offers to set you up with her brother-in-law! things are looking up, you’ve got a brand new home, a new town, a hot date, (and thanks to a series of bear attacks that started immediately after your arrival) you have more than enough work to keep you busy!

Soulmates AU, eventual smut, teratophilia, graphic descriptions of violence, explicit descriptions of menstruation, graphic descriptions of the mortuary process, horror, depictions of extreme fear, body horror, graphic depictions of death, eldritch horror. this is a monster fucker fic, proceed accordingly

Sanguine

ˆEzra one shot by marisferasiop

since being turned as a boy into- whatever liminal state of cryptid he is now- Ezra has walked this earth ageless and alone, never finding his place or a partner for long. He interrupts your meal in the city one evening, and brings you home to strike up a deal; feed from him, alone, and keep one another safe from discovery. The fact that he finds his purpose under the soft graze of your teeth and home between your thighs is a nice side effect.

lots of blood, smut, soft yearning sweet boy Ezra, mapuche mythology and monsters, schmoop. Ezra is a subby little sap in this.

Tentacles

MDKT Sex Pollen

Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Your patrol with Joel goes a little sideways

Dead Dove Do Not Eat/DDDNI, noncon/heavy dubcon, body horror, tentacles, mouth r*pe, double/triple penetration, bondage, non-consensual bondage, choking, deep throating, pheromones, sex pollen, tentacles, mind fuck/mind break, brainwashing, guilt, trauma, trauma bonding. Let me know if I missed anything.

Taungsdays, am I right?

Din one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

You awaken to find yourself and Din in an alien position.

Smut, dubcon/noncon, pheromones, tentacle sex, bondage, mind-fuck, alien sex, unprotected PiV, anal sex, double penetration, dirty talk

Dragon

Promise

Ezra one shot by @criticallyacclaimedstranger

You are taken from you village by a dragon, and he has an obscene proposition for you.

Human/Monster Romance, Monsterfucking, initial dubcon (sort of a damned if you do damned if you don't deal), dragon fucks reader, Breeding, Oviposition, Stomach Bulge, PIV Sex, Loss of Virginity, Painful Sex, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, dragon!ezra is really good with his tongue, Squirting, All's well that ends well though, seriously I don't know how to warn for this fic guys, dragon biology is weird, DON'T LOOK AT ME! Light Bondage, drugging, pet names

Werewolf

Bad Moon Rising

Jack series by @wardenparker

When a handsome stranger called Jack shows up on your struggling ranch looking for work, you’re more than happy to take him in - and into your bed, as well.Death of a parent, loss of a spouse, general family drama.

Vaginal sex, oral sex, rough sex, Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy is basically a life motto here, Gunshot wound, first aid things, blood mention, raw meat mention. Vaginal sex, oral sex, rough sex, so much cum, size kink, squirting, anal play/ass eating, monster fucking.

Shifter

SNAFU

Frankie series by @theywhowriteandknowthings

You’ve done this thousands of times, brought new teams to heel, be it in Britain, Japan, Korea, yet the States are always the hardest to wrangle, the mixture of over-hyped masculinity, the general military bravado, whatever it was, you always ran into trouble. But nothing has ever come close to the new Shifter Charlie Team, and boy, are you in for the biggest challenge of your life.

Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Shifter AU, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, eventual Frankie x reader, former Jason x Reader, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Military, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Pack Dynamics, Pack Cuddles, Pack Building, Strong Female Characters, strong female lead

Alien

Kudzu

Ezra one shot by @beskarberry

a familiar stranger shows up at the doorstep of your infirmary with unfamiliar wounds. You're no doctor, but masquerading as one makes you the only one in the position to save his life. Can you win out against his extraterrestrial illness, or will his new abilities stake a claim in you as well?

NON-CON/DUB-CON, human/alien hybridization, forced breeding/impregnation/birth, rough/feral sex, sex pollen, body worship, cervix penetration, cum inflation, knotting, a wisp of a/b/o. Nonsexual: wound care and dressing, hurt/comfort, a little whumpish, shootouts, blood, dumb jokes, cheesy ending

Jizz Fingers

various boys series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

An intergalactic creampie love story.

Smut, alternate universe, aliens, crack fic, penetrative vaginal sex, creampie

Mermaid

Rises the Moon

Joel one shot by @psychedelic-ink

As the man responsible for operating the lighthouse, Joel lives a solitary life on the isolated coast. He has no complaints, enjoying the hauntingly beautiful songs that echo from the sea at night. One stormy night, he rescues a mysterious mermaid tangled in a fishing net. As you recover in the lighthouse, the two form an unlikely bond and find comfort in each other's company.

mention of joel from time to time visiting a brothel, loneliness, mermaid anatomy things, oral (fem receiving), piv, touch starved!joel and reader, mild breeding kink, squirting

Vampire

Sated

Joel one shot by @softlyspector

Joel just wants you to eat well

love as being consumed, blood drinking, smut from start to finish (piv, f!receiving oral, fingering), Joel's praise kink, talk of eating, consuming, drinking, hunger, etc, vampires you get it.

Attraction Spell

Joel one shot by @jksprincess10

Vampire Joel finds witchy reader in her shop asks her for a love spell

DDDNE, noncon/dubcon, stalking, blood play, using blood as lube, ambiguous ending, unprotected p in v, fingering, praise kink, choking, pain kink, rough sex, minimal editing.

Bleed for me

Din series by @saradika

When it's revealed that the Mand'alor is seeking a companion, you find yourself among those hoping to be chosen. A life of luxury in exchange for your blood seems a fair trade - even if you're hiding a closely-kept secret. One that would certainly put your life in danger.

vampires, alternate universe, canon divergence, blood/drinking blood, shared memories, angst, death/violence, biting, body worship, possessive!pleasure!dom!din, implied aphrodisiacs, mind meld, praise kink, oral, piv, marking

The Special One

Joel one shot by @toxicanonymity

You meet a handsome stranger on a night out with friends. The last thing you're expecting is to be chained up in his basement.

Smut, age gap, alcohol, drugging and kidnapping, chains/restraints, blood and its consumption, oral sex (female receiving), period cunnilingus, dubcon, held in captivity, reader can menstruate, male masturbation, vampire!Joel, alternate universe, dark!Joel

Vampire!Dieter

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Interview with a vampire, gatsby style

flirting, a bit of blood, maybe dubcon due to The Thrall but i think it's safe to say we all want It from vampire!dieter, unbeta-ed because i needed to write something or someone was going to die

vamp but it's you

Everyone at this party's a vampire

Dieter one shot by @idolatrybarbie

"you look so pretty like this."

briefly discussed necrophilia, innuendo, heavy petting

Sanguine

Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

lots of blood, smut, soft yearning sweet boy Ezra, mapuche mythology and monsters, schmoop. Ezra is a subby little sap in this.

vamp but it's everyone

a court of fangs and foxgloves

Oberyn/Max P one shot @psychedelic-ink

After you left the court and hence Oberyn, no one is eager to forgive you for your betrayal. Especially those closest to you.

Smut, MMF threesome/orgy, voyeurism, mlm dynamics, Dom/sub dynamics, sub!Max, switch!reader, dom!Oberyn, rimming, ass play, anal sex, penetrative vaginal sex, biting, mentions of blood, vampirism

I Bite Back

One shot by me

Max Phillips is seemingly always in command, always domineering, always on top… except when he’s with you.

Dom!Reader, Bratty Sub!Max, pegging… duh. This is technically monsterfucking also lmao. Aftercare is implied because I'm implying it here, I didn't write that in. Oh also vamp!reader if you want but I don't really make that explicit

Red Right Hand

one shot by me

You and Max have dinner and then you get freaky. It’s almost too much for poor little Maxxie to handle.

Pure porn, pwp, Blood drinking (they’re both vampires), minor character death (your victim lol), murder… obviously. sub!Max, Dom!reader, unprotected PiV (they’re vampires, you are not), uhhh blasphemy probably, face riding, cum eating, Max’s vamp face, oral m! and f!receiving, overstimulation m!receiving, multiple male orgasms, refractory period nonexistent due to vampire fuckery, ass play m!receiving, praise kink, use of pet names/titles (Mistress for reader/ baby boy, pet, Maxxie, and one surprise for Max), aftercare, no use of y/n.

Only Lovers Left Alive

Joel Series by @atinylittlepain

He offers her another option between life and death. How could she refuse?

Smut, dubcon, gore, blood and bloodplay, dark themes, cowboy!vampire!Joel, set in the past, alternate universe

vamp but it's max phillips

With Cherries on Top

series by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

After countless late nights and giving up important things in your life for a job and a man that refuses to promote you, your family begs you to quit when you break it to them that you have to miss your grandmother’s 85th birthday. Max Phillips may have left the country an American citizen but he came back an undead vampire, meaning his status in the States is no longer valid. In order to not get deported to Romania, he tells immigration that the two of you are getting married and he strikes a deal to make it worth your while.

Smut, language, adult themes, sexual innuendos, workplace harassment, family issues, angst, hurt/comfort, manipulation

A Little Lipstick Never Hurts

Reader/Max/Dieter series by @max--phillips

Max tries to skip his morning inspection, but gets caught breaking one of the rules you set for him anyway. A punishment is in order. / Max realizes a fantasy, and you enlist Dieter Bravo to help you deliver. / You receive a very hot video from your boyfriends while you are at work. The making of said video requires Max to break some rules you'd previously set out for him. He and Dieter make it up to you very easily.

Forced Feminization, but it's consensual, Femdom, Chastity Device 24/7, D/s dynamic, Sex Toys, BDSM, reader referred to as Mistress and Ma'am, Impact Play, Riding Crop, Bondage, Anal Fingering, Pegging, Butt Plugs, Degradation, Deepthroating, face fucking, gagging, spit, ruined orgasm, Nipple Clamps, Cum Play, Cum Eating, Oral Sex, Aftercare, there is NO misgendering, Max's ass does get referred to as his pussy and his dick his clit, but that's as far as that goes, MMF, threesome, PIV, double penetration, cock cages, ball gag, choking, max is a vampire, blow jobs, sex tapes, cum swapping, rule negotiations, fluff

Reflective

series by @prolix-yuy

His management style is effective AND refreshing. And as his executive assistant, you’re partially to thank. But as your professional relationship blurs, are you getting too close to the middle manager monster of nightmares?

horror elements and themes, graphic descriptions of blood including drinking, background character un-death, violence, fingering (f-receiving), vomiting (not descriptive), descriptions of a panic attack, a dabble of sleazy coworkers, playing fast and loose with vampire lore. mirror shenanigans, fingering (f-receiving), oral sex (f-receiving), PiV sex (don’t be a fool wrap your tool), playing fast and loose with vampire lore.

Lust for a vampire

one shot by @idolatrybarbie

A lot of oddballs and strange characters visit a vampire strip club in a tourist town on the border. Max Phillips is unlike any of them.

Smut, mentioned drug use, background sex work, dubcon, supernatural stalking, blood, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, spit, physical altercation, vaginal fingering, pet names (sweet thing, honey, sweetheart)

The Impaler

Tim Rockford/Max/Reader one shot by @kiwisbell

Chief Detective Tim Rockford makes a breakthrough in New York City’s latest serial killer case. The mysterious culprit is in the mood to share more than information.

vampires, gothic architecture, slightly dubious consent, implied mind alteration/control, murder, death, blood, threesome, lots of biting, spanking, spitroasting, masturbation, DVP, fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap ur vampire dicks pls), wife sharing, free use kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), exchanging fluids, spitting, disgusting and filthy, max using cringey nicknames for reader’s pussy but it’s charming bc it’s max, handcuffs, light bondage, hair pulling

I cannot get you close enough

one shot by @leslie-lyman

“You have to invite me in, sweetheart.” Oh. Right. Vampire. “Come in, please,” you say demurely, and Max’s smile widens as he steps over the threshold into your apartment. He reaches for you again immediately, kicking your door closed and pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Such a polite little Omega.”

A/B/O dynamics; one small scene of men being creepy and threatening towards reader (but, perhaps surprisingly, one of those men is not Max); extremely self-indulgent Halloween costumes on the part of your author; a bit of angst; fEeLiNgS; absolutely way too much plot and character backstory for what was supposed to just be porn; Alpha!Max is his own warning; heat sex; biting; blood-drinking; breeding kink; many, many creampies; Max has an absolutely filthy mouth; look, it’s heat sex with Max, it probably (hopefully?) entails exactly what you think it does

All Mouth

one shot by @idolatrybarbie

max phillips and prompt no. nine— "you look so pretty like this." with a twist!

reader is not American/not an "American vampire", porn with mild plot, pet names (honey, baby, sweetie, Maxxie), all the usual vampire genre warnings, including but not limited to - graphic blood and gore, cannibalism, mention of scars, horror themes, love as consumption, smut - mommy kink, degradation (max gets called a slut), cock slapping, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, handjob, alcohol mention, fluff.

Happy Reading!

#i meant to set this to post on my birthday oops #fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #the spreadsheet outtakes #the spreadsheet digest outtakes #outtakes #monsterfucking

98 notes · View notes

wardenparker · 9 months

Text

Win a Date with Javi G, part 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader x Jack Daniels Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.9k Warnings: Cursing. Food/alcohol. Pure fluff and flirting. A little dirty talk/dirty flirting toward the end. Summary: You and your best friend are huge fans of Spanish pop star Javi G, and she managed to convince you to enter a contest to win a date with the singer himself. No one is more surprised than you when you actually win. ✨🎶🥰 Notes: Hey Guys! It's my birthday! To celebrate, Keri and I conceived of this little one shot that turned into a smutty, kinky, fluffy two-parter and I hope you love it as much as we do. For all the folx out there who remember the movie "Win a Date with Tad Hamilton", you'll recognize the inspiration right away -- and reader's hometown is inspired by the waterfront town from "Bob's Burgers". We're all over the map here! Special shouts also to my darling @julesonrecord for imaging how much glitter Eurovision Pop Star Javi G would actually be covered in at every show.

Your eyes are on the verge of crossing when the phone rings, books spread out on your desk in your home office and countless tabs open on your laptop as you try to piece together this bit of research to send off to your bosses on deadline. You almost let the call go to voicemail, too absorbed in this odd passage from an even odder book, but something inexplicable tells you to answer it. The call is Private, the word splashed across your screen as it continues to ring, and your cat meows curiously when she jumps up into your lap as you hit the green button to accept. “Hello?”

Jack tilts the handset for his desk phone against his shoulder and enjoys the sound of the voice on the other end. It sounds attractive, being in the business long enough, you can tell by a voice if the person is gonna be a looker. “Howdy ma’am.” He greets you and then says your name. “Is it a convenient time for a talk?”

Howdy? You make a face instinctively, wondering why you've got a cowboy calling you in the middle of the day. Probably a telemarketer, but what the hell. You've got time. Your cat meows again and you sit back in your chair to let her settle into your lap to be pet while you're on the phone. "Sure," you say after a moment. "What can I do for you?"

“Jack Daniels ma’am.” He introduces himself with a grin as he twists in his ergonomic chair and looks at the poster that is plastered up on his wall for the upcoming world tour. “I’m the CEO of Statesman Talent Agency.” He hums. “And I’m callin’ concerning a little contest that you entered. ‘Win a Date with Javi G’? Does that ring a bell?”

"Oh!" Shooting up straight in your chair almost tips your sweet cat onto the floor but you manage to recover and hold onto her. "Uh–yeah, yes. Of course." Entering the contest had been a whim. A decision made after too much wine and giggling with your best friend. Spain's Eurovision winner Javi G was trying to break out in America and you had loved the album he released - as well as everything he had put out in Spain that you had hunted down on the internet. Your best friend had been able to talk you into entering after about the millionth watching of his winning Eurovision performance. You definitely didn't think you would actually get a call about it though.

“Good, good,” Jack chuckles as he takes his boots off his desk and leans forwards. “I’m tickled pink to inform you that you have won our little contest.” He tells you. “You will be flown out to L.A. to accompany Javi to the Grammys as well as the Universal Music Group after party.” He rambles. “Hotel and your dress will be provided of course.”

"I—"You almost hiccup, the disbelieving laughter coming out of you right away. "Seriously?"

“Now ma’am, my momma would whoop me if I was leadin’ a young lady on.” Jack grins at your reaction, imagining you are about to start dancing. “We do need to be discussin’ some of the particulars. The NDA and the legal-ese stuff the blaster lawyers like to prattle on about.” He hums. “Plus we need to film your ‘official’ win for the announcement. Are you gonna be free next week?”

"I–um–yes, sir, I am." There's no fucking reason in the world to have called him sir, but the cowboy thing just sinks into your brain and the manners pop out by accident. "I work from home and my availability can be made flexible." Having a conventional job for unconventional employers has its benefits.

“Good, that’s good, darlin’.” Jack might get shit for his sometimes seemingly sexist way of speaking, but it’s not often. “I’ve got your information right here in front of me and will be sendin’ you an email.” He promises. “Congratulations.”

"Thank you very much, Mr. Daniels." There, that's more appropriate. It doesn't help that you're nearly vibrating in your chair and about three seconds away from laughing so hard you scream. "I look forward to hearing from you."

“Real soon, darlin’” Jack hangs up the phone and hums, your social media account pulled up and he’s looking at a picture of you. “She’s gonna be perfect.” He predicts with a grin.

As soon as you hang up the phone you're a giggling mess, hugging your cat and giving her all the scratches in the world as she looks at you with distinct concern. Immediately pulling up your best friend’s contact info to call her, you're not taking no for an answer – tonight is going to be takeout and a bottle of wine and celebrating. For a girl who has never won anything before, this is a very big first.

******

Four days later, Jack sighs as he walks down the stairs of the G5 he had flown to your closest airport. Squinting at the light, he’s delighted to find the car waiting for him. The little perks of having an international talent agency often outweighed the long hours and constant ass kissing.

“Thirty minute drive, Mr. Daniels.” The driver tells him when he opens the rear door to let the man climb into the nondescript black SUV. “Not much traffic this time of day.”

“Is there a lot a traffic…ever?” Jack asks, far too used to L.A.’s horrendous traffic in the years he has spent living there. It makes a normal town seem positively quaint.

“People still have to get to and from work.” The driver shrugs and closes the door, only opening his mouth again when he climbs behind the wheel. “Town’s Art Crawl is this weekend, so it’ll get busy fast.”

“Art Crawl?” Jack would normally be on his phone, answering emails but the driver has piqued his curiosity. “What is that?”

“The restaurants and businesses down on the wharf by the theme park all display art by local artists,” the man explains as he heads for the highway. The address he was given is an apartment on Ocean Avenue, so he isn’t worried about finding it. That’s just downtown. “It’s a fundraiser for I-dunno-what. People buy the art and can donate to whatever the cause is at raffles and things. Always brings in the crowds, though.”

Jack hums. “Interesting.”

“Town’s got a lot of good stuff goin’ on.” The driver continues. Having a captive audience suits him. “Just had a big party at town hall for New Years. Community theater is opening a show this weekend. More Art Crawl stuff.”

“Hmmmm.” Jack reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone. Maybe Seymour’s Bay isn’t quite as small town U.S.A as he had imagined it to be. “Sounds like this place has some culture.” He says, opening his mail. “You like Javi G?”

The driver glances in his rear view mirror. He was given a name, a time, and an address and nothing else. Now this guy in a Stetson is asking him about some pretty boy pop singer? “Can’t say I’ve heard much,” he says with a shrug. “That’s the kind of stuff my fifteen-year-old daughter listens to.”

“He is going to be touring in the U.S. in the next three months.” Jack tells him, glancing up from his email for a moment. “Tickets go on sale next Monday.” If there’s anything that Jack Daniel’s excels at, it’s promoting his clients. Even if it’s to his driver for the day.

“Yeah?” The man makes a huffing sound, like the wheels in his head needed some extra oomph to get moving. “It’s her birthday soon…”

“Nothing better than tickets for her and her two closest friends to see the concert of the year.” He reaches into his pocket and and pulls out a card. “If you want to really impress her, call that number and my secretary can set you up with VIP passes for a fair price. Meet and greets.”

The rest of the car ride passes with some grateful squawking from the driver and the usual questions about what it’s like to work for celebrities, and by the time the man pulls the car up in front of the big brick building on Ocean Avenue that houses a florist shop on street level and an apartment up above, he probably should have talked himself silly. Instead he pulls the back door open with a beaming smile and waits for this client to exit. “This is it,” he says, excited for whatever is happening that he doesn’t know about. But excited nonetheless.

“Thank you.” Jack nods as he looks at the neat, well kept building. He steps out of the back of the vehicle and reaches for his briefcase, filled with the paperwork that would serve as the agreement for the contest.

The agent’s arrival time was listed in the email you got last night, and you have been hustling all week long to make sure that your apartment is spotless for his arrival. Putting way too much thought into everything as usual, there are tons of drink choices in the fridge, an entire painstakingly assembled charcuterie platter to offer, and a box of macarons from the bakery down the street that makes the best sweets in the entire world. Even Pyewacket is behaving, just lazing happily in a patch of sun on the arm of your leather sofa. You’re dressed decently, styled like an actual adult, everything is perfect. So when the buzzer for your door sounds, you take a deep breath before you answer without panicking. “Coming!” You chirp through the speaker and head straight downstairs.

He waits, looking around the street and peers into the shop to see the bouquets that are on display. They are beautiful, someone with a skilled hand put them together. It’s ideal honestly and he can already see how the promo’s for the advertisement for Javi’s tour will go.

When the back door to the building opens and you step out, you have to hold back a small giggle at first. There’s a man in a Stetson with a Burt Reynolds mustache peering in the shop window right beside your beaten up little car and you clear your throat politely. “Mr. Daniels?”

Seeing you in person, it's even better than your social media page. Your smile is bright, almost irresistible. He reaches up and sweeps his hat off his head and smiles his most charming smile while he says your name. "It is surely a pleasure to meet you."

The features that you noticed from a distance are the least consequential as the man turns to greet you and aims a smile at you that’s brighter than the sun. Oh god, he’s handsome… “It’s really nice to meet you, too.” You put your hand out automatically, meaning to be polite, and motion to the shop beside you. “Beautiful, right? My sister does great work.”

"It’s your sister's shop?" He asks, glancing back over to the window and then back to you. When you nod, Jack grins and straightens up. "Fine work," he praises. "Probably better that most shops that I've seen charge a thousand dollars a setting."

“She ships long distance and does all kinds of special arrangements.” You tell him, puffed up with pride for your hardworking big sister. “I have her card upstairs, and you should pop in before you leave town. Bring something back to your wife or whoever’s at home.”

"No wife." He shakes his head and winks at you. "Yet." He doubts he would ever marry, his life not exactly conducive to having a little lady putter around the house. "But I know that I send flowers all the time to clients and associates."

“I’ll make sure you leave with Kate’s card, then.” Nodding toward the building, you can’t avoid the little shiver that wink gave you, as silly as it is. “Would you like to come up?”

"I never turn down a pretty lady inviting me upstairs." Jack hums, enjoying the way you seem to fluster. You will look amazing on Javi's arm at the Grammys but that doesn't mean that he couldn't flirt with you and pay you a compliment or ten.

It’s just one flight of stairs that opens into your little place, but the meowing is immediate when your black cat pops out of nowhere and starts inspecting the new arrival. “Pyewacket, be nice to Mr. Daniels,” you instruct, giving her fur a ruffle on your way through the living room. “Can I offer you a drink? Something to eat?”

Jack eyes the fluffy black cat as if he might get attacked and edges past it. Never been a cat man, although it seems to be staring at him judgmentally. "I'm good with a drink." He accepts with a nod and looks at the small dining room table. "Perhaps we can go over the contracts and disclosures here?" He asks.

“Of course.” After going through the drink options you end up pouring two glasses of iced tea and setting them down on the clean table. “I understand the basics. Don’t talk about private things that I might see or hear, and to make sure I actually show up at the appointed time and place or legal action can be taken against me.”

"Right." Jack grins, reaching into his briefcase to pull out the paperwork. "There's also a little disclaimer that any and all sexual activity happens with consent of both parties." He winks at you again and shrugs. "Just in case."

“I—um—okay, that’s…” You look at him curiously. “Is that…something that happens? With these things?” It would be the first you’ve ever heard of anything like it — but then again there is also an NDA on your table right now.

"If you and Javi wanted it to." He admits with a small grin. "Animal attraction and all. This just states that neither you nor Javi are required to provide intimate acts and if any transpire that it is of your own free will."

“It seems way more likely that I’ll overhear something, but I get it. You have to protect your client.” And since absolutely fucking nothing is happening without your consent - thank you self defense classes - you nod and pick up a pen. “So what happens? I arrive at some decent but inexpensive hotel, stylist dresses me so I look halfway decent, and I walk down the red carpet with him then get sent back to the hotel? Quick and dirty, as they say?”

Jack snorts and shakes his head. "Oh no." He hums, sending you a cocky smirk. "You will have a suite at the Biltmore Los Angeles and the stylists will be measuring you the day you arrive to make sure the gowns they pull for you to choose from are your size. We have artists come in to do your hair and makeup following a full spa day."

“Oh.” That’s a hell of a lot more than you expected, and you can’t help but feel a little special and a lot flustered. “That’s a hell of a way to make a girl feel special, Mr. Daniels.”

"This is a once in a lifetime event, darlin'." Jack admits with a charming grin. "Javi's startin' off his U.S. tour with a bang."

“Yeah, I—um…my best friend and I actually pre-ordered our tickets the day the email went out.” You look down into your iced tea sheepishly, but you entered a damn contest for a date. They already know you’re a fan. “Fan Club early access tickets…”

"Fan club, huh?" Jack chuckles and he bites his lip. "Well, we'll just have to upgrade our contest winner to VIP tickets." He decides. "Can't have the woman who goes to the Grammys with Javi G watching his concert from anywhere but front row."

Sure you could demure and say it isn’t necessary, but you’re not at all going to turn down that kind of offer. The nearest big concert venue to you is a decent drive away and you and your best friend had already planned on having to get a hotel room for the night on top of everything else. It is going to be an extra big deal now. “I’m very happy to be extra positive publicity for you,” you tell him instead, knowing that that is probably his biggest and main concern. It doesn’t bother you one bit.

"Good." He smiles and nods. "Not necessary but we will take all the social media coverage we can get." He does level you a serious look. "Before the winner is announced...you should probably make security changes to your accounts." He warns. "Just in case."

“What do you mean?” The ink is on the page now, your signature on the dotted line of the contract appointing you the winner of the contest, so you sit up to pay attention.

"Sometimes fans can be...invasive." He's sure he doesn't have to tell you about it if you are part of the fan club but he does want to warn you. "Make sure that you aren't getting random DMs and that you accept friends. I'm sure that as soon as it is announced, you will find you have thousands of new followers overnight."

“It will be a very busy weekend, then, I guess.” The email that had been sent to you said the announcement was coming within days of your contract being signed, so that can only be soon. After all, the Grammys are in three weeks. “I’ll change my passwords and privacy settings and all of that. Lock it down. Thanks for the tip.”

"Don't want this experience to be anything but magical." Jack winks again and snaps his fingers. "Oh! Damn near forgot, Javi recorded you a message."

“Oh, that’s—that’s so sweet.” So what if it was in his contract? Or if it was just a thing he would have done for any person who won the contest? It’s still nice.

Nodding, he pulls out his phone and opens up the video. "I'll send it to you, it's going to be posted on the official Javi G tour site after the announcement of your win as well."

The message pops up on your phone right away while you begin to read the NDA, glad to have just a tiny bit of legal knowledge from this and that over time. This one looks nearly identical to one that you signed for a work event some time ago so you sign it without fear. The last piece is the paper listing sexual activity as unattached to the contest and of the own free will of its participants and you shake your head all over again. How many people really just fall into bed with celebrities just because they’re famous? It seems so silly.

Javier Gutierrez, known as Javi G to his fans, pops up on the screen and he flashes the sweet smile that has melted men and women's hearts across Spain and Europe. Now destined to become a major success in the United States. "Buenos dias!" He waves and says your name. "I cannot tell you how I am looking forward to our date." He seemingly speaks to you, making eye contact with the camera. "Perhaps you will make me not so nervous." He chuckles nervously as he says that and continues on. "We will have a wonderful time at the Grammys and who knows?" He shrugs. "You might inspire a new song, cariño." He blows a kiss to the camera. "See you soon."

“He always seems so sweet.” Who knows if it’s a character or not, but even in his little Instagram posts or things like that, he always seems completely earnest and giddy. Like he can’t believe his good luck or something. “Is there anything else I should know? Before the day, I mean?”

"Javi has requested a brunch, or lunch, depending on how hungover the two of you might be." Jack smirks because he knows that is very likely. "Something simple, low key with no social media. His way of thanking you."

“No dressers for that, I’m assuming?” You tease because it’s in your nature, but you make a mental note to pack your favourite dress to have brunch in. “I can definitely do brunch. Best meal ever invented.”

“L.A. is the city to have it in then.” Jack sweeps up all the signed paperwork and nods. “You will be sent an electronic version of these papers as well. We just like having physical copies.”

“Sure. Makes sense.” Another nod, as you wonder why this agent came all the way out here himself. “Do you…need anything else from me? Clothing sizes, probably?” There had been no request for physical indicators of any kind in the contest entry, so it’s not like he has them on file unless he’s a creeper.

Jack shakes his head. “The stylist will measure you when you land in L.A.” He explains. “Women’s sizes are so varied from brand to brand.”

“Okay.” Nervous again, you shrug your shoulders and take the last sip of your iced tea. “So is that it? I really have no idea how this works. Obviously.”

“Well…yeah.” Jack frowns slightly and picks up his tea again. “The ticket will be sent to you, we are flying you out two days before the Grammys, then back home two days after.” He shrugs slightly. “What questions do ya got for me?”

“Wait, it’s four days?” You almost startle at that news, but manage to shut your mouth after a few seconds. “Okay, uh…what arrangements do I have to make for myself? Hotel for the other nights? Flight home? Obviously you guys aren’t buying my meals or anything.”

Jack frowns. “Darlin’, I’m sorry, I guess you didn’t read the fine print.” He tuts, shaking his head. “Everything is included. There and back. You are not going to pay for a thing. At least I hope the $300 a day spending money for meals is enough.” They had wanted to make this contest as popular as possible, garnering attention and excitement for Javi G’s tour and it seems as though you didn’t even know what you were getting.

The disbelieving laugh that that news earns him bursts out of you like an explosion and you end up giggling nervously. “I…had had a lot of wine that night,” you admit. “And I never went back to reread the contest information because I didn’t figure there was any chance I would win.”

“Surprise.” He chuckles and tilts his head. “The prize includes first class flights to L.A. and back, the entire stay at the Biltmore and twelve hundred dollars to be spent at your discretion for food. For four days. And the room service in the hotel is included with the room.”

“I’ll grab a city map and a rental car when I land and I’ll be good to go.” Sitting back in your chair, you blow out a breath and laugh again. “This is a hell of a contest, Mr. Daniels. It’s really a very impressive prize.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “I knew there was something they forgot.” He hisses, shaking his head. “We will make sure there’s a car at the hotel.”

“Oh no, that’s not—!” You bite your lip and hope you haven’t gotten some poor office lackey in trouble. “It’s very generous of you.”

“Convertible okay?” He wants to make sure he smooths over this oversight so you are happy as a pig in the mud when you post your stories online. “Drive down Hollywood Boulevard Marilyn style?”

Nearly choking on the first sip of a new glass of tea, your eyes go wide when you look up at him again. “I—that car? The broken down piece of crap you were standing next to downstairs? That’s been my car for seven years and she has been that bad the whole time I’ve had her. A convertible is insane.”

“Then the videos you post – safely – of you driving it with the wind blowing through your hair will be spectacular.” Jack winks.

“Very safely.” You can promise him that with your hand on your heart.

“It’s gonna be a great trip, darlin’.” Jack predicts. “Javi’s gonna love you and you’re gonna feel like a star.”

“I’m very excited.” It felt like a dream to begin with, but now all this? It’s incredible. It’s a fairy tale.

“Perfect.” Jack thinks you’re beautiful and if he didn’t have this contest that needed to be fulfilled, he would be hitting on you. “Only three weeks until you will be in L.A. and posing with Javi on the red carpet.”

******

The first two days in LA are like a whirlwind, posting things to your social media in between sending texts back to your best friend and your sister, doing as many touristy things as you can manage and eating some of the best food you've ever had in your life. This city is like nothing you've ever experienced before and you're enjoying every second of it. The day of the Grammys is an all-day spa treatment for you until you head back to your hotel room. Room service is waiting for you there, and the team of stylists arrive very soon after. The army of dresses that they have with them are all so stunning that you can barely get a good look at one before you're sighing over the next, and they are ready and excited to get to work.

“Knock knock.” Javi can hear the chattering and laughter inside as he stands outside the hotel room with his suit. His hair is already carefully styled and the stylist that is working with you right now is going to finish his look here in your room. Jack had wanted candid photos of you and him getting ready together.

"Oh my god." Sitting at the vanity in the hotel room in your robe and slippers, you swear you nearly fall over right in your chair. "It's you!"

“It’s me.” The door had been left open, due to the people coming in and out of your suite, so he pushes the door open and pops his head inside. “Can I come in?”

"O–of course!" Making sure you're covered by your robe, you get up to offer him your hand and find the smile on your face is even broader than you thought it would be. He's even more handsome in person...how is that possible?

The stylist quickly takes the suit from Javi, leaving him free to take your hand and pull you in for a hug. “Are you excited? I am excited. What a thrilling night!” He rambles, squeezing you tight and pulling back to beam at you, “Jack was right, but he always is.”

"Jack was right you'd be excited?" He smells amazing despite it probably just being soap, and he's so warm that it radiates through you like you're hugging a ball of pure energy in the form of a man. Or maybe the form of a Golden Retriever Man.

“Jack was right that you are even more beautiful than your picture.” Javi corrects with a shy smile.

"I..." What the hell do you even say to that, when it's being said by the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life? "Thank you." Lame. "You're–I mean–you're incredibly sweet." Thank god you stopped yourself before you told him that he is beautiful, too. That would have been a hell of a way to start the night.

Javi frowns slightly as he panics slightly. “I did not mean to offend.” He hastily corrects, biting his lip. “I– I messed it up, didn’t I? Now you are uncomfortable and will not want to attend the Grammys with me.”

"Javi..." Surprising both of you, you reach out and put your hand on his arm. "I got tongue tied. I was about to tell you that you look beautiful instead of saying handsome. It's...you did nothing wrong. I'm just excited and very nervous."

He swallows, taking a deep breath and sighing out softly. “I–I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “Normally I can pretend to be more collected but I am nervous.” He admits.

"It's okay." Both of you end up laughing a little, and you step back to let him further into the room. "We were about to have a great debate over which gown to put me in. Do you want to weigh in?"

“You have not chosen yet?” He is surprised but delighted. “Have you tried any on yet?”

"They took my measurements when I got into the city two days ago and now I get to try stuff on and pretend to be a model." It's completely surreal and you're enjoying every second of it, if you're honest with yourself. The fact that people have whole lives like this is insane.

“You will look incredible.” Javi has no problem slipping into the chair that you had just vacated and he taps his chin as he thinks. “Is there a dress that matches my suit?” He asks the stylist. “Or should we not coordinate?”

The woman tips her head at Javi for a moment before nodding slightly and pulling away to sift through the garment bags that she brought. "We can make your accessories match," she tells him confidently. "You have pearl and gold cufflinks and gold horsebit on velvet loafers. For her," she nods to you while she talks. "I have two velvet gowns. Both will work with gold and pearl accessories." One gown is lush black velvet and the other is seductive red, both in vintage cuts. "How about one of these?"

Javi looks to you for your opinion. You will be wearing the dress after all. “What do you think?” He asks, genuinely wanting your input. “If you would rather something else, that is perfectly fine too.”

"Velvet is great. I'm not upset about that option." You're not upset about any of this, and you step toward the stylist with the dorkiest thumbs up known to man. "Let's try both on and see which one looks better."

Javi chuckles and nods. “That sounds like a perfect plan. Shall we have some champagne?”

Champagne. On Grammy night. With your favourite singer of all time. While you try on designer gowns. If you could go back in time and tell Little You about all this you'd never believe yourself. "Absolutely. Let's do it. You pour and I'll be right back."

Javi knows that the bucket of champagne is going to arrive soon. Jack had assured him that he was ordering one for when you were meeting him. Knowing that some champagne would calm him down.

Disappearing for the time it takes to wiggle into the red dress, you glimpse yourself in the mirror long enough that you almost sigh. It's stunning. Reminiscent of old Hollywood, it fits and flares in all the right places and the back hangs low enough to show off a whole lot of skin. Unfortunately, you note as you step out for Javi to see the dress on you, it's a little hard to walk in because it is so form fitting.

Immediately, Javi frowns when he sees your lips pinched together in concentration. “What is wrong with it?” He asks, leaning forward. It’s stunning, to be sure, but he will not have you uncomfortable for the entire night.

Biting your lip just gives you away even further, and you shrug a little helplessly. "I'm not very good at being elegant, I guess," you have to laugh to not be embarrassed. "It's a little hard to walk in."

Javi nods seriously, his brows pinching together. You look sexy in the dress and he knows it is flattering, but if you aren’t comfortable, it’s not the dress for you. “No.” He decides, shaking his head. “I wish for you to be comfortable.” He flashes a grin with a roll of his eyes. “As comfortable as you can get in a formal dress.”

The horror stories of being sewn into red carpet gowns, not being able to breathe, or walking in one specific way all night are thankfully not in your future, and you smile gratefully. “Okay. I’ll put on the other one. Be right back.”

“It is beautiful though!” Javi calls after you, watching you toddle out of the room into the bedroom of your suite.

He’s right, obviously. It’s a stunning gown and gorgeously made, but the one and only time you ever walk a red carpet is not going to be a night you have to hold your breath and tiptoe in order to exist. The black velvet dress is slightly shorter, the silhouette is much more comfortable, and the intricate pattern in the material is accented by an off-the -shoulder neckline that makes you feel elegant without being too exposed. It’s perfect, and you know the second you walk out that the difference is immediate.

Javi sits up straight in his chair, captivated by both the dress on your body and the shy smile that lights up your face. You feel good in this dress and that makes you even more stunning. “Estás preciosa. Impresionante.” He murmurs as he stands. “Yes, this is – it is beautiful.”

“It’s so comfortable,” you barely stifle a giggle, gleeful and unable to really wrap your head around your own good luck. “You, um…you like it?” As surreal as it is to have this monumentally talented international star sitting there gauging your appearance in red carpet fashion, you don’t feel as nervous as you thought you would. As you did right when he came in. He just had such a positive energy about him that it puts you right at ease.

“It’s is perfect, no?” Javi bobbles his head enthusiastically as he looks at the stylist for some back up. “She looks like she is a celebrity herself.”

“She will be after tonight.” The stylist hums her approval. “Sit down, honey. Have a drink, chat, whatever you like. Just don’t move your head a lot while we’re putting your look together, okay?”

“Drink. Chat. Don’t move,” you laugh lightly at the directions and sit back down again, delighting when Javi himself hands you a glass of champagne. The last two days have been surreal, and this has just leveled up to crazy.

“It is easy to do once you remember not to look at everyone.” Javi assures you, sitting down in the chair that has been set up next to yours for last minute touch ups. It will allow him to chat with you and get to know you before the red carpet. “Are you looking forward to the awards?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” It’s such a once in a lifetime chance for you, what’s not to love? “I have no idea what to really expect, though.” A laugh comes easily but you have to remind yourself not to shrug. “I watch it on TV like most other people, but I have a feeling that a lot of stuff happens that isn’t shown on the broadcast.”

“We will find out together.” Javi admits with a giddy grin. It will be his first American Grammy Awards show and he is looking forward to it. “But we will have fun. I am sure of it.”

“We absolutely will.” Looking at him in the mirror as the stylists go to work on both of you, the whole thing is just…it’s perfect. It’s the story you’ll tell for the rest of your life. That time you reached Peak Awesome by winning a contest.

“And then we have the after parties.” He chuckles with an excited grin. “Sharing a drink with all my favorite artists.”

“Are we supposed to go to certain ones?” You had re-read the contract and contest rules over the last few weeks and there was a lot you had missed in your wine haze when you had entered.

“We will make an appearance for Jack. The main party….” He snaps his fingers, unable to think of the name. “Then we can choose where we would go.”

“Universal Music Group.” You remember that one, considering it’s such a big deal. “Jack did a really amazing job setting all of this up.”

“Jack is wonderful at everything he does.” Javi assures you with a small smile. “He has guaranteed my success in the States.”

“Well,” the smile you aim at him in the mirror is shy. “I already have my ticket for the tour. Jack, um…upgraded it. To VIP. So tonight won’t be the only time you see me, it seems.”

“Wonderful!” Javi lights up happily. “I might have to pull you up on stage with me.” He teases with a small wink. “Croon a few songs while you are there and make everyone in the stadium jealous.”

This man just does not do things by half, does he? It makes you wish you had about three more glasses of champagne to justify this bubbly feeling. “Well…he also put me and my best friend in the front row…so if you wanted to, we’ll be right there.”

“Your best friend? Is she a fan as well?” He asks, his eyes wide and sincere. “Or are you dragging her along for someone to attend with you?”

“She’s a fan, too.” You assure him, watching in the mirror as the stylist carefully sets the curls in his hair. “We watch Eurovision together every year, and the first time you performed for Spain…three years ago? You absolutely should have won, by the way, but we’ve both been fans ever since.”

“Thank you.” Javi still has a hard time accepting compliments, even as long as he has been performing, so a blush darkens his tanned features. “I am grateful that you think so. That is what matters to me, people enjoy my music.”

"There are a lot of us out there." If you thought he was sweet before, now you just want to wrap him up in cuddles and protect him with everything you've got. He's just a nice man who wants people to connect to him, and he's so endearing that it makes you ache. "You have a huge community of fans out there. All over the world."

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ducks his head, causing his stylist to huff and remind him about staying still. “Oh! Sorry.” He catches your eyes in the mirror and winces, although he is grinning slightly.

"I promise, you do." Considering you're a member of that community, you would know. But either way, you beam his smile back at him in the mirror. "There are a lot of people in the States who are very excited to see you come over here. It's going to be great."

“I hope so.” He gushes. “I have always dreamed of coming over to American music billboards. ‘Crossing over’.”

His excitement is so sweet and pure, and you can't help the way your smile spreads and spreads the more you talk to him. "I don't know anything about distribution or profits or tours or any of that. But as a fan? There are so many of us who are so excited about this. I think it's going to go really well for you."

“Fingers crossed as the saying goes.” Javi is grateful that you seem to be such an encouraging person and his eyes light up. “We should call your friend!”

"Would you mind it?" Your phone is out on the vanity in front of you and you had thirty seconds worth of forethought this morning to change your lockscreen from a picture of Javi to one of you and your friend and your sister in her florist shop so that when he nods and you pick up your phone it isn't a cringeworthy moment.

“Not at all. You should FaceTime her!” He insists, eyes sparkling with the excitement of surprising your friend.

"Her name is Esme." You're practically giggling as you tap your phone screen, and grateful when the stylists move him slightly closer to you while they work so that you can both be seen in the small screen. "She's going to absolutely lose her mind. So...just be warned."

“That is okay.” He grins as he leans over a bit more to smoosh his face next to yours in the screen as you try to connect to your friend.

The phone rings twice before she picks up, but Esme is currently cat sitting for you and it's Pyewacket's face that greets you instead of your best friend's. "Hey Pye!" You coo at your cat, who looks confused as hell to see you in a little window instead of all in front of her. "Es...put the cat down and say hello," you giggle, still making faces at your cat.

“Aren’t you calling for a Pye check in?” Esme laughs as the feline jumps down and she turns the camera towards her face. “So how is it–” Her eyes widen and she starts to squeal. “OH MY GOD, Oh my god! Javi G!”

"I'm calling to say hi," you cackle, nearly keeling over in your chair to the dismay of your stylist. "Javi thought we should give you a call."

“Oh my god, oh my god, hiiiiiiiiiii.” She gasps out, nearly about to pass out from not taking a breath yet. “I can’t believe that I’m talking to you!”

"I told you," you smirk to the man beside you, but it's all good natured. Everyone deserves a little love and encouragement, right? His just comes from fans. "Es, you have to breathe, babe," you remind her over the camera.

“I’m so sorry.” She looks stricken for a moment. Embarrassed that she might be embarrassing Javi G.

“Hello.” Javi finally has a moment to speak and he smiles indulgently into the camera. “Do not be sorry. I am happy to meet you Esme. You have a beautiful name.”

“Y-you’re beautiful,” she giggles, like she isn’t a grown ass woman of thirty. “I mean— ah, my friend is the smart one. I’m okay with that. You’re meeting her, she’s the smart one.”

“Oh, you’re going to lose it even harder at the concert in a couple of months,” you can’t help but laugh, really. Esme wears her heart on her sleeve and doesn’t apologize for it.

“I will send your friend home with an autograph for you. Is that okay?” Javi asks, raising his brows in question.

“That would be amazing!” Esme squeaks. She would be clapping her hands with glee if she didn’t also have to be holding up her phone. “I’m gonna record the whole thing on your DVR tonight, babe,” she promises you eagerly. “You’ll have it to watch over and over.”

“I will talk to you again before she leaves.” Javi promises before kissing his hand. “Ciao Esme!” He knows they can’t keep talking, needing to finish getting ready and there needs to be behind the scenes photos taken.

“I love you, honey, I’ll call you later!” You promise her before having to end the call. The clock is ticking and it’s almost time to go. “That was incredibly sweet of you. I know she’ll never forget that in a million years.”

“It was a small thing.” He shrugs one shoulder and gives you an embarrassed grin. “We will have to call during brunch so you can talk longer.”

“Jack said the brunch was your idea?” You ask, setting your phone back on the vanity. “I think it’s absolutely perfect. Brunch is absolutely my favorite meal.”

“I figured that even though the Grammys are exciting, we won’t get a lot of time to talk.” Javi reasons. “But brunch? Brunch is perfect for talking.”

As if to prove his point, the stylists move over to do a full face of makeup on you and just a few small touches on him - bits of eyeliner and glitter that the naked eye would hardly perceive but that enhances his look so much.

Javi grins in the mirror as you open your mouth so the lipstick can be painted on the interior of them far beyond what women normally do. “It should withstand any eating or drinking,” the stylist tells you when she is done, and she puts the tube down next to your phone. “But keep it with you for touch ups just in case.”

“I am glad I do not have to wear that.” Javi hums.

“It’s not so bad.” Lipstick always feels glamorous to you, adding to that elegant celebrity vibe that tonight is giving you, especially after spending all day at the spa. “Besides,” you grin and it wrinkles your nose. “You have more glitter on than I do.”

“To make me sparkle on camera.” He rolls his eyes but he knows the effect will look good on film.

“It’s cute,” you promise him easily. The jewelry and accessories have come out now – the very last thing before you are ready to get into the car to head to the red carpet.

Javi stands and smiles at you. "Now I must put on my own suit to match your beauty."

The whole thing takes less time than you would think, but by the time you’re ready to take pre-show pictures the stylist who is snapping them for you is making silly jokes about adult prom while he does his tie and you check your purse one last time to make sure you have everything. The night is going to be absolutely incredible and you’re starting to vibrate with excitement.

"I must confess." He takes your hand and leans close. "I have been so nervous for tonight that I have not eaten anything." He whispers. "Have you?"

“I’m the opposite.” His hands seem almost twice the size of yours, enveloping yours and keeping you close. “I’ve been nibbling all day to try to take my mind off being nervous.”

"So you would not want a pit stop by In & Out?" He asks, almost pouting at the idea. "I have a wish for their fries and American Coke."

“Well, I think we have to.” You’ve been nibbling today, picking at fruit and cheese, charcuterie and spiced nuts at the spa. As much tea as you could drink. The room service tray was delicious but definitely picked over. But fast food with a pop star is way better than some of the things you had on your proverbial Bingo card for tonight. “I’ve never had In & Out. We don’t have them where I’m from.”

"We can have the driver swing through the drive through on the way." He grins mischievously and nods. "We can experience it together."

“It will make a very silly story in an interview one day. I think it’s an excellent idea.” His phone goes off on the table again, flashing as it sits beside yours, and you see Jack’s name pop up on the screen. “I think you might have some instructions, or hopefully some encouragements, incoming.”

Javi picks up his phone, his face lighting up when he hears his agent's voice. “Rey,” he hums, grinning at you as he speaks. “We are just about to leave.”

“Está bien, zorro.” Jack’s voice on the other end is pleased and honeyed. “Y’all got everythin’ you need? Clothes fit, stylists done their duty? Car should be downstairs waiting for you.”

“Sí.” Javi bobble his head even if Jack cannot see him. His hand reaches up for the necklace around his neck. “We have already taken some pictures, rey. They are fantastico. She is more beautiful that I imagined.”

“I knew you’d like her.” Jack seems satisfied at the choice, and his voice pitches low for a moment. “Now you two behave and I’ll see you at the party. Buena suerte esta noche.” Good luck tonight.

“Sí.” He hums warmly, smiling as he pulls the phone away to look back at you. “Jack will be joining us at the party.”

“Then we better make sure we have fun before that.” Boldly putting out your hand to him, you nod to the door of the suite. “So we can have plenty to tell him.”

He takes your hand and grins. “Are you enjoying your prize so far?”

“It’s absolutely amazing.” And why does holding his hand feel like the sweetest, giddiest thing in the world? Esme’s going to be hearing about this forever, she really is. You could just melt over it. “I still have two more days here after tonight and I just…it’s more than I ever thought it could be. Going home is going to be such a bummer.”

"Where are you from?" Jack had told him the town, but he couldn't remember off the top of his head. You both are out the door and striding down the hallway with the stylists snapping photos of you. Jack probably told them to do that.

“Seymour’s Bay, New Jersey.” It’s a small town that almost no one has ever heard of, and you shrug a little. “We’re a ninety minute drive from New York City, and we have an old style amusement park. Those are about the only notable things from my town.”

"I see." He nods and once you are on the elevator, he squeezes your hand. "So what do you do, Belleza?"

“It’s…kind of weird.” You admit, feeling very schoolgirl in your beautiful dress while the man of your dreams holds your hands on the way to a very fancy party. “I’m a researcher for a podcast. True crime, a lot of history, some supernatural stuff. Sometimes we talk about movies made about true events and what they got right or wrong. It’s basically me and my cat and a whole lot of books.”

"Interesting." Javi doesn't think it's weird, but he frowns slightly. "Do you do the podcast? Or do you just research for it?"

"I research for it." The frown makes you certain that you've completely weirded him out or made him uncomfortable, and you shrug again. "I studied to be a librarian, but through a series of random events, I ended up becoming a researcher instead. My bosses are great, though, and I can work from home. So it's way better than a lot of other jobs based on just that."

"That is unfortunate." Javi shakes his head. "I think you would be good at the podcast." He smiles. "You have a beautiful voice and I was hoping I could listen to you sometime."

"Anytime you want to hear it, you just give me a call," you joke, never thinking for a million years that he would actually do such a thing.

Javi nods seriously, making a note to himself that he needs to have Jack give him your number. The elevator starts to slow down and he sighs, squeezing your still joined hands. "The car should already be waiting for us."

It is, just as Jack had promised, and the crowd of fans and paparazzi outside that had gotten wind of where he would be are held at bay as you and Javi are ushered quickly into the backseat. More luxurious than any sedan but not quite a limousine, you're glad all over again to be wearing the less cumbersome dress of what you tried on. There is plenty of room to stretch out and be comfortable as the driver pulls quickly away from the hotel entrance.

"I didn't think that there would be so many outside." His eyes widen and he looks back at the crowd that gathered and was still snapping pics as you drive away. "That's crazy."

"Some members of your fandom are...a little more zealous than others." No one was overtly rude or acted out or anything like that, which was fortunate, but it's a very good thing that the car's windows are tinted. The further you get from the group, the harder it will be to pick out your nondescript car from all the other black cars with tinted windows in LA.

Javi scoots forward so he can tap on the the divider between the driver and the you. When the window rolls down, he shoots the driver a grin. "Can we stop by In & Out?" He asks. "We want to grab some food and drinks before the red carpet."

The driver chuckles, obviously having heard this request before, and he nods. "Sure thing, Mr. Gutierrez. There's also some drinks in the cooler built into the seat between you, if you want them. Not sure what Mr. Daniels put in."

"I'm sure Jack put in all my favorites." He grins and nods before he sits back. "Jack stocked the drink cooler in here." He tells you before he reaches for the pull down for the seat.

"He seems to think of everything." When Javi pulls the cooler open there are half bottles of Spanish cava from a vineyard on his home island along with a plethora of canned cocktails in every flavour imaginable and, of course, water bottles. You have to admit to being impressed. Jack seems to be an incredibly thorough man. And that thought turns dirty very quickly.

"He does." Javi nods as he pulls out a bottle of the cava and starts to twist to the wire off the cork to open it. "Shall we share a drink before our fries?" He offers.

"Wine and French fries is actually a combination I've done before," you roll your eyes at yourself. "Because I'm clearly the classiest person you know. But yes, absolutely let's celebrate."

"Cava and papas fritas are a match made in Heaven." Javi insists, popping open the bottle and taking a swig directly from it before offering it to you. "I can open your own if you do not wish to share."

"I'm not fussy." He's charmingly normal, and yet also you don't think you've ever met anyone like him before in your life. He is simultaneously vibrating like an overexcited chihuahua and as laid back as any housecat. When he offers you the bottle you take it, enjoying the heady buzz of more bubbly in your system. Nowhere near even tipsy, you're simply relaxed.

"I must confess." He turns towards you with an earnest expression and leans in close. "I am surprised by how normal you are." His eyes widen, realizing how horrible that sounds. "I mean, how normal you are taking all of this" He rushes out, cursing himself for insulting you. "I would be about to jump out of my skin and you are so cool and composed."

"It's partly the bubbly," you admit with a guilty grin. "But..." Pressing your lips together when you move the bottle away from them makes you look even guiltier, but you can't help it. "I'm just trying really really hard not to weird you out. Like Esme's reaction when we called? I've been doing that on the inside for the entire time."

"Do you want to know a secret?" Javi asks, his eyes widening and he leans in closer to you.

"Very much." And you will keep it secret and safe for as long as you live, just glad to have these memories to hold on to.

"I feel like that all the time." His eyes widen in seriousness and he bites his lip. "I am always anxiously bouncing off the walls and wondering if everyone around me thinks I am crazy."

"How many people have ever referred to you as a puppy to your face?" You ask with a grin, knowing that the majority of the American fandom refers to him as a 'golden retriever boyfriend' with maximum affection. His brow furrows in confusion and he tilts his head to the side as he looks at you. Trying to figure out what you mean by that. "It means you're excitable and sweet and you have really positive energy." The last thing you want is for him to think that you're covertly taking a dig at him or something, because it's completely the opposite. "Your happiness is infectious."

"Oh." Javi nods as he smiles at you, understanding what you are saying now. "Then it is a good thing."

"It absolutely is." You would never have said it otherwise, but you feel a little hazy from how close he is. His presence really is intoxicating.

"I look like a puppy, hm?" He asks, leaning in a little more. "A cute puppy?"

It's criminal the way your heart leaps in your chest, but you're flustering before you can even blink. "I think the agreed upon term is...'Golden Retriever Boyfriend'," you admit sheepishly.

"Golden...Retriever...boyfriend..." He says it slowly, letting the words roll on his tongue. Biting his lip again as he thinks about the nickname that he is apparently known by. "Do a lot of people call me that?"

"I–" You could lie. You could. Or play it off. But you just sort of giggle as he passes the bottle back to you to sip from again. "...yeah. At least, in America they do."

"Maybe I should get a dog." He thinks with a grin. "They have such loving little faces and always love you."

"You should do what makes you happy." It's good advice that you can never seem to follow for yourself, but he absolutely deserves all the good things in the world.

"Do you have any pets?" He asks, feeling the car slow down and turn. He looks out the window and grins when he sees the iconic sign for the west coast fast food joint.

"The cat in the phone call?" You grin at the excited look on his face. "She's mine. Pyewacket...like the cat from Bell, Book, and Candle."

"Ohhhh, she was pretty." He nods, grinning. "Sleek looking, have you had her long?"

"She's two now and I've had her since she was twelve weeks old." That beautiful black cat is your favourite roommate and only child, and you love having her. "Someday maybe I'll get her a puppy sibling. But the apartment I live in is a little too small for that right now."

"Mr. G." The driver clears his throat. "We are nearing the window. "What would you and your guest like to eat?" He asks politely.

The two of you collaborate on an order in the backseat just in time for the driver to order at the speaker, and only a few minutes later you have a bag between you and Javi's craving for American Coke is being fulfilled. "Should have enough of a drive to enjoy your snack before we get there," the driver tells you, fully amused before he puts up the separator again.

"I'm so excited." Javi confesses, even as he starts opening napkins to start draping over your lap to protect your dress. "I have heard so many good things about this and have not had time to try it before now."

"Are you that busy getting ready for your tour?" It must be an immense amount of work, but you don't really have any bearing on what goes into it. Not really.

"Rehearsals are normally fifteen hour days." He admits with a rueful grin. "Another reason I have been looking forward to the Grammys. It's a break."

"Fifteen?" That sounds like torture, and you immediately offer him some French fries like an apology. "Please tell me you have all kinds of people whose literal job it is to take care of you, because that's insane."

"Jack makes sure that I am well rested." He assures you, smiling at how thoughtful you are to worry about him. "It will get better. Hard work now to insure that the tour is perfect."

"It will be perfect." Of that you have no doubt. He's an amazing performer with incredible talent and dedication. "And I'm glad you have someone to look out for you. I know...people always say that being famous is lonely, and you're too sweet for that."

"It– it can be lonely." He admits, frowning slightly and reaching for his Coke to take a sip of it. "I do not have many friends." He shouldn't admit this to you. Opening up too much, you could tell people even though there is a NDA that protects him.

"Well that's shitty." Turning to face him completely in the back of the car, you decide that the frown on his face is completely unacceptable and you shake your head. "You have one more. If you want to, I mean. You want to talk to somebody, or vent about your day, or whatever, you just drop me a line, okay? And if you ever want to see the lamest town in New Jersey sometime, I'll take you to the broken-down amusement park for the probably-unsafe rides and rigged carnival games."

"Really?" He asks, surprised by the offer. People often want to be close to him, to get things from him, but it's never an offer to just listen. "That is– that is very nice of you." He chokes out, emotional from the gesture.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." In a moment that might qualify as juvenile if it didn't feel so honest and pure, you stick out your pinky finger to him and grin. "Pinky promise. Jack has my number and my email, but I'll give it all to you at brunch tomorrow if you really want it. Friends shouldn't be hard to come by for somebody as nice as you are."

His grin lights up his face and he eagerly hooks his finger around yours. "I know it seems silly to not have friends." He admits. "My family kept me isolated. Practicing to become famous was more important than friends."

"My family put pressure on me in other ways. And I know I don't have any kind of demanding career like you do, but I get it. When they decide they know what's best for you they never let go." Squeezing his finger gently in yours, the two of you are back to your snack in no time. "I do shifts in my sister's flower shop to keep them quiet. The whole family are all florists except me."

"Florists?" His brows shoot up and he hums. "They create beauty and they can't understand why it doesn't fulfill you."

"I am...not very artistic," you admit, picking up another French fry. It's official. In & Out is amazing. "I can appreciate beauty, and music, and art, and theater, and all of it. But I'm not good at making it myself. So sometimes I run the cash register for my sister on busy days or help with shipments. But arrangements? Esme and Kate do all that."

"There is nothing wrong with that." He shoves some fries into his mouth and follows it up immediately with a sip of Coke, moaning at the taste of it combined. "You have to have a sip of Coke with your fries."

It's not exotic for you at all, but he is so excited that you lean over and accept a sip of Coke without a second thought. There really is something so fantastically satisfying about simple, greasy fast food while you're all dressed up that is so much fun. "So are you right back to rehearsals tomorrow after brunch, or do you still have time to relax?"

"I will start back rehearsals next week." He tells you with a grin. "The last week before the tour starts. They don't want me to be too tired at the start of the tour." One more week of practice and then the last week before the kickoff will be spent relaxing.

"So you have time to relax and enjoy yourself." That makes you nod with authority you definitely don't have. "Good. You should do things with your time that make you happy. Collect lots of memories. You never know where inspiration can strike, right?"

"I am hoping to." He smiles although there is a hint of secrecy in the curve of his lips as he says it. "There are a lot of things that I wish to experience. Especially if I am going to make the move to America permanent."

"Are you?" That rumor hasn't even hit the most in the know members of the fandom as far as you can tell, and you make the motion of an ‘x’ over your chest. "I signed the NDA, Javi. I won't say a word, I swear. But that's so exciting!"

He flushes again, realizing he has misspoken and yet with your hand reaching out to take his, he relaxes slightly. "I shouldn't have said that, but I'm glad someone knows." He admits, knowing that only his people, Jack, know of his plans.

“And hey.” You squeeze his hand gently, a moron he seems to find reassuring. “Even if I hadn’t signed it? We’re friends now. Friends get excited and keep secrets for each other. It’s part of the deal.”

"Thank you." The last few fries are gone quickly and he carefully starts to wipe his fingers free of salt and grease before he checks his suit for any dropped grains.

“Here.” There’s just a few specks of salt on his lapel but you lift them off in the curve of one of the fake nails that the manicurist at the salon gave you earlier today. “There.” There is no stain or mark left behind. No one would ever know you’ve been naughty. “Perfect.”

“Thank you.” He smiles, reaching up to brush a fry crumb from the corner of your lip. “You still look beautiful. And that was delicious.”

“I should check my lipstick, since it’s the one thing the stylists sent with me.” Having him call you beautiful makes you shy. You’re just a normal girl from a normal little town. Not someone Javi G should be calling beautiful.

“Yes.” Javi nods seriously and picks up your purse to hand you, “I will hold anything you need.”

The ride took less time than you thought, and you’re putting away your lipstick and mirror as the car enters the line to deposit you and Javi on the red carpet. “Don’t be nervous,” you encourage, taking his hand briefly. “You’re going to be amazing. I know it.”

"It is show time." He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. Clinging to your hand when you try to pull it away and flashes you an apologetic grin when the moment passes. "Sorry." He hums.

“Sorry.” You instinctively apologize at the same time, and the two of you end up feeling silly but thankfully not too awkward. “If you need to grab my hand on the carpet, go for it,” you tell him, right before the car door opens. You’re not going to be mad if there is a picture out there in the world of him sweetly holding onto you for support. Just a nice man being nice to his fan.

Javi slides out of the SUV, adopting a charming smile and lifting an arm and waving to the first wave of fans and photographers, buttoning his jacket and turning to help you out of the car. While there are porters to help guests out of the cars but he wants to do it himself. Flashing you a smile as he reaches for your hand.

What you see on tv is so different from what is happening the second that Javi helps you out of the car. It’s so much louder than you expected and with so many more people everywhere. Red carpet interviews and photos give you the impression that things are all very organized and to some degree they are, but there are far more people milling about than you ever would have guessed. The two of you are ferried into a sort of arrivals line - as you make it down the carpet there will be certain places to stop for photo ops and for interviews, and there are handlers to make sure that you go where you need to. But the sheer scale of the event is so much greater than you had ever thought watching it from home.

"Here we go." Javi murmurs under his breath as he smiles and starts to wave again. It's big and loud and reminds him of stadium tours while he was in Europe. You are new to this and he keeps your hand curled around his and when he drops his hand down, he pats your hand and looks at you. "Are you okay?"

“I’m great,” you admit, thoroughly surprising both of you. The whole thing is massively exciting and you’re just soaking it up. “How are you doing? Nerves okay?”

Surprisingly good. He is normally way more nervous about things like this but you are calming him down with your down to earth friendliness and happiness. "I'm good." He insists with a smile, leaning in and kissing your cheek before his hand drifts up to touch his necklace again.

The crowd apparently loves this moment, fans nearby cheering loudly to see something so sweet in front of them. “They’re loving every second of you,” you promise him, grinning from ear to ear.

He smiles shyly, biting his lip as he looks at you soulfully. "I should have asked if that was okay." He murmurs, hoping you didn't mind it too bad.

“More than okay.” Hell, for all you care the guy can stick his tongue down your throat in the middle of the red carpet. Fuck…that’s a thought that is going to fester…

He smiles and nods, kissing your cheek again and this time he doesn't flush when he pulls back. The permission gives him confidence and he sends you a small wink before an event coordinator comes over to guide you down the carpet.

For the first real time tonight, that sheet of paper you signed concerning the possibility of sex pops back into your mind. Not because a kiss on the cheek is inherently sexual but because the nearness of him is so intoxicating.

The first few stops fly by. Charming and vivacious, Javi manages to win them over with a smile and his enthusiastic love of everything American and the joy of being here. He displays you just as much as he can, gushing over how he is enjoying being here with you and pushing you to talk as well.

The first reporter to not know anything about the contest is the first one to ask him to introduce his girlfriend to the world. He looks eager to hear all about it, thinking he might be getting a scoop, but despite the hand holding you both shake your head politely.

"She is my date." Javi clarifies, leaning in. "But she is beautiful, no?" He asks, looking back at you. "Won a contest and inspired the next song. I swear."

“I’ll be very excited to hear that song when it comes out.” He surely doesn’t mean it, but it’s still a nice thought to have. “I’m honestly just having the best time in the world.”

"We are planning to make sure we enjoy everything." Javi beams, happy you are enjoying yourself and he hopes that you mean that. You are inspiring his next song. He's already come up with the hook in his head and actually cannot wait to jot it down.

“What kind of everything are you enjoying?” Disappointed to not have unearthed gossip, the reporter digs for more. You’re clearly smitten, even if you are just a fan.

“The show, the parties after.” Javi flashes you a grin. “Tomorrow, we will nurse our hangovers with a delicious west coast brunch.”

“You’ll never want to leave LA after this.” The man chuckles to you, and you can’t shrug or risk looking weird.

“I already don’t want to leave,” you admit with a blinding smile. This moment is supposed to be for you and yet all you want to do is make it good for Javi. He chuckles and the two of you move down to the next reporter. Smiling as he grips your hand tightly. “He wanted us to give something away so badly,” you grin guiltily.

“He did. Secret relationships are always titillating.” Javi hums, reaching up and touching his necklace again to calm himself.

“Too bad for them.” Still holding his hand, You flash him the same smile that you had the reporter to hopefully reassure him. “Everything’s going great.”

“Let me know if that changes.” He asks softly, wanting you to enjoy this entire experience. “Although they are going to be jealous of me standing beside someone as beautiful as you are.”

"When you write your song, put that in the lyrics," you tease affectionately. "It will be my favorite forever."

“I will.” Javi nods seriously. “The hook is already written. ‘No star shines as bright as your smile’” He sings softly.

"I—I thought you were just...saying that." The flash of a camera isn't as dramatic as a wasted bulb anymore, but there is now one photographer in the world with an picture of you looking at Javi with soft astonishment written all over your expressive face. "It's...it's beautiful," you murmur back, feeling your cheeks heat up so much you might become your own sun.

“You are beautiful.” Javi counters, unraveling your hand from his arm to kiss the back of it. “Inspiration struck, thanks to you.”

******

If he was enjoying himself before the awards, Javi is ecstatic afterward and you are powerless but to roll along with his excitement at the afterparty. His award for Best Global Performance will be delivered to his LA residence and the adrenaline from his win might never wear off. Happiness looks so well on him, though, and he's all but glowing when you walk into the party together.

"I can't believe I won!" He gushes for about the five thousandth time. It's incredible and he's nearly overwhelmed with how many people, famous artists, came up to congratulate him. "Can you believe that I won?"

"I absolutely can," you assure him just like every time before. He's a brilliant entertainer and it isn't the first award he's ever won, but his desire to break America means that winning a Grammy holds enormous importance for him. "You more than deserve it."

"Is that..." His eyes widen and he cranes his neck over the crowd and then ducks down and around The Weeknd to see better. "Is that Gloria Estefan?" He asks in a near reverent whisper. "Oh my god, it is." He hisses, looking back at you almost panicked. "It's Gloria Estefan!"

"You should say hello." He is very near to a kid in a candy store at this party, and while you are just sort of absorbing the glitz, glimmering chaos around the top of you, he has transformed into a fanboy. It's actually reassuring to see – the way he is acting on the outside is very much how you felt on the inside when he walked into your suite tonight.

"No!" He shakes his head and straightens up, looking back at you like you had suggested he spit in her drink. "I could not possibly. She is...she is iconic. I cannot bother her."

"Did it bother you to meet me?" The question is posed as entirely theoretical, and the hint of a smile on your lips tells him you aren't judging him in the least. "Having someone who admires you tell you that you mean something to them is wonderful, Javi. Don't be afraid."

Javi shakes his head, still too starstruck and he looks back at you, “Maybe after a drink, sí?” He asks, raising his brows at you.

"Well, let's get you a drink, then." There are waiters passing by with trays in every direction and a full bar against the far wall, so getting him whatever drink he wants will not be a problem whatsoever.

“How do you feel? Are you still having fun?” He asks, wanting to make sure that he’s not boring you or you wish you were back in your suite.

"The answer to that will always be yes," you promise him. The two of you have gotten used to walking hand in hand tonight, and now it is natural to put your hand in his as you walk to the bar. "What are we drinking to celebrate your victory?"

“Tell me your favorite drink.” He begs, turning those puppy dog eyes as you call them on you and smiles.

"Usually just wine," you admit, albeit a little sheepishly. "Sparkling or even sangria if there's a party. "But I am absolutely open to trying anything." A rule which goes for more than just cocktails, but he doesn't really need to know that.

“Should we try some of the signature cocktails?” He asks, pointing to the placard with a list of yummy sounding drinks. “Jack should be here soon.”

“Absolutely.” The only way to survive winning this contest has been to go with the flow, so you’re just going to roll with that a while longer. People are already starting to drink and dance, catching snacks from passing trays of hors d’oeuvres or from the long buffet of sumptuous offerings along the wall adjacent to the bar. Tables for chatting and resting sit ready but most people seem ready to party. At the bar, a half dozen specialty cocktails are listed with cheeky names and full descriptions. Some are fruity, some are smokey, some sound downright dangerous. It’s all a matter of taste.

"Award Winning Whiskey Sour." Javi decides, looking at the menu. "I think I will start with that." He looks over at you and waits for your decision.

“The Sweet Victory Raspberry Limoncello Cooler sounds like my speed,” you decide with a grin. An open bar with a reason to celebrate always means trying something wonderful.

"Then that's what you will have." He winks at you and darts off to grab the drinks. It doesn't matter that he is the award winner, he is going to treat you like the star since you are with him.

“Javi!” There is a crowd forming and you end up losing the fast-moving Spaniard in the thick of it, but you just laugh and hang back. You’ll stay where you are and he will find you again. In the meantime, this party is incredible and a few covert pictures won’t hurt anything.

At the bar, Javi orders the drinks, smiling at the bartender and he reaches up to touch his necklace as he looks around the crowd, searching for a Stetson.

“Lookin’ for somebody?” Jack’s voice comes from behind his left shoulder, the warm smirk of amusement evident in his honeyed tone.

"Jack!" Javi lights up again, delighted to see him and he lunges forward to hug his agent. "Can you believe I won?" He knows that Jack had kept tabs on the awards ceremony, even if he had been working while he was watching so he could attend the party.

"Of course I can believe it." He had no doubts about it, but he's glad to see Javi happy. Jack pats his star on the back and looks around before raising an eyebrow at Javi. "Where'd our girl get off to? Run away to powder her nose?"

"I left her..." Javi bites his lip and looks around the crowd before he spots you. "Just there." The bartender brings over the drinks and Javi shoves a generous bill into the man's hands. "Can we also get a glass of whiskey?" He asks, nodding towards Jack. "For my friend."

"Enjoying your night?" Jack asks him, honestly wondering if the sweet shows of companionship he saw during the broadcast were real or if Javi was learning how to charm Americans along with everyone else in the world.

"She is wonderful." Javi confides with a small grin, leaning in closely. "Just like you said she would be. I like her, rey. I really like her."

"I thought you would." That news pleases Jack, who presses a bill into the bartender's hand when he comes back with his whiskey. "She signed on the dotted line, ya know," he reminds Javi under his breath. "Could be a well-deserved way to celebrate."

"Does she know?" Javi asks under his breath, reaching up and touching his necklace again. "What that entails?"

"Not yet." Jack shakes his head and picks up his drink, holding it to his lips a moment and considering the next course of action before he drinks. "If you'd like to tell her, we can. But I'd say let's see how she dances before we go invitin' her to the rodeo."

"No." Jack's idea makes sense and Javi nods. "I want to see her dance. Plus I need to deliver her drink."

"Then lead the way, zorro," Jack murmurs quietly, a smirk gracing his lips.

Javi smiles as he moves through the crowd of people, nodding and slightly awestruck by some of the people who greet him by name. He doesn't stop, eager to get back to you with the drinks and with Jack.

You get one more discreet picture in on your phone before you see Javi reappear with a distinct Stetson-wearing mustachioed cowboy behind him, and you quickly pull up your text messages to fire one off to Esme to cover up the fact that you were being an absolute fangirl for the five minutes he was gone.

"Jack is here." Javi rushes out with a happy smile on his face as if the man's presence behind him isn't announcement enough.

Murmured thanks to Javi for delivering your drink come with a broad smile, and you are right back to beaming when you turn to Jack. "You must be very proud tonight."

"Pleased as punch, darlin'." Jack hums, sending you a small wink. "Only a few things that I can think of that would make me happier and it wouldn't be polite to speak about that in public." He winks again and takes a sip of his whiskey.

When your smile turns shy it seems to please the cowboy even further, and you take a sip of your drink with a happy hum before looking back to Javi. Not that Jack isn't damn fun to look at, but it's Javi's night. "What are you thinking, Javi? Grab something to eat? Get on the dance floor?"

"Dancing." Javi sneaks a look over at Jack before back to you. "I wish to see how you move." He smirks, taking a sip of his whiskey sour and biting his lip.

Well damn. Get a couple of drinks and an award win into Javi Gutierrez and suddenly he's all but purring at you in front of his agent. While a prouder woman might have played it off or demurred, you have reached a point in the night where not caring anymore is a virtue. There are no paparazzi inside this party. No fans to speak of other than you or a few other lucky guests. So Jack is here? Fuck it. Jack's a flirt, too. "Well, come on, then," you toss him a grin after taking a long drink of your cocktail. "I'm sure Jack won't mind guarding our drinks for a few minutes."

Jack chuckles and takes your drink from you, making sure that his fingers linger over yours and he practically coos at you. "Enjoy yourself now, darlin'." He encourages, grinning at you like he's the cat that is edging closer to the canary.

"I'll try to keep up," you tease Javi as he leads you out onto the dance floor. Considering how many of his performances you've seen on television, you know how well he can move. It really will be trying to keep up with a pro tonight.

Jack watches with interest as Javi pulls you into his arms and starts to move. It's obvious that you are infatuated with Javi and he doesn't blame you. It's a part of his charm, his ability to draw people in.

The song has a beat to move to, thank god – something hip hop and Latinx that makes for fantastic party music at the beginning of a night. There are no speeches here, no cameras to pose for, only people enjoying themselves, so that is exactly what you decide to do when you put both arms around Javi's neck. When are you ever going to get a chance like this again in your life? Never is when, so you're damn well going to enjoy every second of it for everything it's worth.

Javi laughs breathlessly as he twirls you around and dips you. Happy that your dress allows for you to move so easily. He wouldn't have been able to dance with you like this if you had worn the red dress. And it would be a shame to not get to press his body to yours like this.

"I think we picked the right dress," you laugh breathlessly, obviously having the same thought as him at this moment. This fairy tale - your fairy tale - keeps getting better and better at every turn.

"Depends on how it looks on the floor." Javi teases, pulling you closer and flashing you a grin.

"I–" The shock on your face is abundantly evident. For all the teasing, or flirtatiousness, or even the fleeting sweet moments you've shared tonight? Neither of you has been as bold as to make that kind of comment or make any intentions known. On your end it seemed utterly ridiculous to even think he would be interested, assuming his gestures to simply be those of a sweet man with good manners. But maybe it is actually more than that? "Now that is a very interesting question," you admit, lips curling up into a grin.

"Sí?" He asks, eyes widening slightly in shock as if he is surprised that the line actually worked. Jack's presence has given him confidence that he normally does not possess or represses because of his poor self esteem, but the grin on your face captivates him. "You would like to find out? With me?"

Thinking about it for a second, you end up surprising yourself and laugh a little right out loud. "You know..." you shake your head in amusement. "I was really about to say that I was only serious if you were actually interested in me for me and not in some wish fulfillment thing about fucking a fan. But honestly? I don't really care what the motivation is. I'm one hundred percent on board. We'll dance, we'll drink, we'll go back to the hotel and have a night. Why the hell not?"

If you had told him that he was the world wide star, top of the charts for all the countries, he couldn't have looked any happier about your agreement. "Yes!" He crows happily and pulls you even closer to kiss your cheek. Since you are in public, he would not cause a scene.

He is nearly crushing you to him as he revels in your agreement, and you have to admit - this whole contest, this trip, this night, all of it - it's so surreal that why shouldn't it include sleeping with an internationally known musician that you've had a crush on for literal years? That's completely tracks with the tone of the whole thing. Esme and Kate are never going to believe half of what actually happened even before this.

When the song ends, Javi pulls away and he searches your eyes. "Do you want to stay?" He asks. "Or do you want to go?"

"Jack won't be upset if we don't stay longer?" After all, you had really only been here for what feels like a few minutes. Perhaps it was as long as a whole half hour, who knows. And Jack seems like a man who prefers to do things 'right'.

"Why don't we see what he wants to do?" Javi asks, taking your hand and leading you off the dance floor. "I need my drink anyway!"

There is definitely something you're missing here, unless Javi is about to ask his agent's permission to take you back to the hotel, but since you're already decided to just roll with it you let him drag you back to the table where Jack is waiting and gratefully accept your drink from the tall, dark, and handsome Southerner when he offers it back to you.

Javi is nearly bouncing on his toes with anticipation, grinning as he takes his drink from Jack and tosses it back quickly. “I would like to go back to the house, rey.” He tells Jack before he turns to you. “Unless you would be more comfortable in your hotel room, of course.”

"It's where my stuff is," you point out needlessly. "But nobody ever died because they were embarrassed about a walk of shame."

“There’s no shame in that walk, darlin’.” Jack smirks, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Maybe a little hitch in your step dependin’ on how hard you’ve been ridden is all.”

"Traditionally is it not the lady who does the riding?" Throwing caution to the wind, you have another sip of your drink and tilt your head at Jack. "What's the song? Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy?"

“Oh you are perfect, darlin’.” He chuckles, leaning in and chucking your chin with his fingers. “How’d you like to find out?”

For a second you freeze, not sure that you've understood him correctly, and you look between the two men to find Javi looking just on the edge of nervousness and Jack smirking confidently. Well that's a surprise... But really, is it a bad one? Hell no. Cowboy Burt Reynolds is a look you didn't know you were into until a month ago when Jack Daniel's showed up at your apartment, and you're just going to throw up your hands and go with the flow. "Ya know what?" You toss back the end of your drink, enjoying the way the bubbles go straight to your head - you're making the decision with a clear head but you might be a little floaty by the time you get back to wherever you're going if you have another. "Sure. Let's go find out."

“Really?” Javi’s eyes widen happily and he reaches for your hand, “You know he is talking about…” He looks around and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Both of us, sí?”

"I understood that part," you promise him, squeezing his hand just as you have every other time that he has been nervous tonight. "And I've got no clue why you're asking, or why you're asking me, but since I'm never going to get an offer like this again?" You shrug again and end up laughing a little. "Let's go."

“You will not regret it.” He promises you, turning and beaming at Jack. “I want you to know that you have the most exquisite taste, rey.” He hums. “I feel relaxed already.”

"Okay." Setting your glass down on the table beside you and picking up your evening bag instead, you look between them curiously. "I thought your name was Jack?" You ask quietly. "Not Ray?"

Javi flushes and he ducks his head in embarrassment, reaching up and touching his necklace. Jack chuckles and decides to answer for him. He sets down his whiskey after he drains it. “Not ‘Ray’ like ‘Howdy my name’s Ray’.” He explains. “‘Rey’.” He exaggerates the punctuations slightly. “My little zorro named me his king the first night he skipped a step or ten on his own walk of shame.”

"Zorro?" As far as you know, that's just a guy in a mask with a sword running around Mexico in the movies, but clearly it means something different. Whatever it means, though, one thing seems to be growing clearer: Jack is much more than just Javi's agent.

“Fox.” Jack smirks, reaching out to run his finger down Javi’s smooth jaw with tender affection. “He’s my sexy fox, isn’t he?” He asks, looking up at you. “Or foxy?”

The absolute hard right into unbelievable that an already crazy night has taken makes your whole body feel like it's been instantly set on fire and like your system has been flooded with instant arousal all at once. Jack is his dom...that makes so much sense... "He's been very good tonight," you tell Jack, humming a little to see how Javi lights up at the praise. "He should definitely be rewarded for it."

“That’s good.” Jack coos, smirk growing wider when he sees that you understand the dynamic and are either intrigued or approving. “I bet his cock is aching for some attention, isn’t it, zorro?”

"Por favor, mi rey," Javi turns his wide eyes on Jack, the very same ones he has used on you multiple times tonight. The party is so raucous all around you that barely anyone has even noticed you, and the three of you seem to have entered your own little world anyway.

“Now that you know this…” Jack turns his dark gaze on you. “Are you still willing to go home with us? The agreement doesn’t cover me. But a good old fashioned verbal consent will do.”

"I thought it was a little weird when that page was in with the others, but...anything can happen in the world, right?" You smirk at Jack, feeling far bolder than you ever thought you could. "Now I see you were just being thorough for your man. That's very considerate, Jack. And...I think that deserves a reward, too."

Jack arches a brow and a slow smirk rides across his face. “What kind of reward are we talkin’ about, darlin’?” He asks, interested in see what you think is a reward.

Cheeks on fire, your eyes slide away for a second to compose yourself so you can look back at him. "I was really hoping you'd just be impressed that I was being cheeky and I'd have the car ride to think up something creative," you admit sheepishly. "Called my bluff."

He tosses his head back and laughs. A deep, belly laugh that rolls through his body. Javi squirms slightly, his own grin on his face and Jack finally looks back at you with pure admiration in his expression. “Good for you, darlin’.” He chortles, reaching out and pulling you close so he can whisper in your ear. “Might have to spank you for that, but only if you want me to.”

There’s no way he can know that he’s offering you something that you very much enjoy, but he’ll most likely be able to figure it out by the way you reflexively shiver a little at the suggestion. “We should get going,” you tell them most, nodding with as much authority as you can. “Sounds like our own party is going to be far more fun.”

“Oh it will be, darlin’.” Javi whimpers in agreement with Jack and he takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “You don't seem surprised.” He murmurs as Jack guides you both towards the exit.

"I decided about ten minutes ago to just throw up my hands tonight and go with the flow, so I'm just leaving all of my confusion and surprise for tomorrow when I think about what happened." You lace your fingers through Javi's and offer him a smile. "I basically have decided that all of this is just an amazing dream and so anything can happen."

"That is a good way to look at things." Jack hums, his hand sliding to your back as he leans close. "I thought I was dreaming the first time Javi begged to suck my cock, now I hope to never wake up." He teases. "Why don't we go see what kind of fevered dream we can cook up for you?"

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javi Gutierrez #Javi Gutierrez x reader #Javi Gutierrez x you #Javi Gutierrez x female reader #Javi Gutierrez x f!reader #Javi Gutierrez x Jack Daniels #The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent #TUWOMT #Kingsman Golden Circle #crossover #Pop Star AU #birthday fic

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pedroshotwifey · 1 month

Note

*slaps more money on the table*

👀 So basically, I can’t seem to finish any WIPs with this man, he is a ball of lust but I can’t write him. 😭😭😭

Javier Peña you and your sexy self frustrate me! But I also want to request a Drabble for my birthday (Sunday 3/31 - which I should have requested this earlier this week. 😖)

Anyway whenever you finish it is fine.

I would like some sweetness and smut from Javi because if there’s a time to be completely self-indulgent, it’s on your birthday. 🥳

Thank you in advance love! ❤️

*Gives money back*

This one's on the house. 😉

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NERDIE!!! 🥳🥳🥳

As requested, here is your birthday sweetness and smut:

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

W/C: 1.3k

Salty Sweet

*****

“Javi, are you home?”

You take a step into your dark and too-quiet apartment, looking around for any trace of your boyfriend. You know, despite the fact that you couldn’t get your birthday off, Javi was able to stay home so he’d be here when you got back. But so far, it looks like he might be out. You frown, more curious as to where he might be than upset though.

You sigh and slip your shoes off, exhausted from the day you had. It seems like you didn’t get a break at all on top of having to stay late. You love your job, but they really don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s your birthday or your last day on earth. If you want to keep up with the competitive pay, you better do what they ask, no matter how many hours of overtime you may be working.

You’re taking your coat off when you hear a sudden clatter from the kitchen, and then a whispered curse right after. You can’t help the smile that creeps up. This idiot is trying to surprise you. If you had to guess, you’d say he probably just slammed his foot into one of the chairs in the dark.

“Javi?” you try to keep the amusement from breaching your tone. He doesn’t answer, of course, so you make your way to the kitchen. You reach to turn the light on but stop in your tracks at the sight that beholds you.

The entire kitchen is decorated. There are fairy lights hanging on the walls and around the table, ribbons and balloons in your favorite colors spread tastefully throughout the room, lit candles on every surface, and a cute birthday banner hanging on the back wall. And in the middle of it all is Javi, standing next to the table which holds what might be the most beautiful little cake you’ve ever seen.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he says through his beaming smile. He knows he did good.

Your eyes start to get misty as you walk toward him and throw your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much, Javi. You didn’t have to do all this.”

He tuts as he embraces you and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Of course I didn’t have to, but you deserve it, hermosa. So much.”

You lean up and press a kiss to his lips, a tear slipping down your cheek as you do so. You hadn’t realized how overwhelmed you’d been all day. Just as you deepen the kiss, Javi groans against your lips and forces himself back.

“One more thing,” he breathes against your mouth before moving to the fridge. You watch with peaked interest as he swings the door open and pulls out a can of whipped cream. He shuts the door and smiles devilishly as he shakes the can. You open your mouth to ask what the hell that’s for at the same time he pats the table.

“Hop up, cariño.”

It’s not until you see the mischievous glint in his eye that you understand what he wants. You immediately feel a throb between your legs. The two of you had talked before about doing something like this, but you hadn’t realized it would be happening so soon. Not that you complain as you quickly follow his instructions and clamber onto the table.

He smirks wildly at you as he pops the top off of the can and rucks your skirt up. You sit up and allow him to bunch it around your waist. A small shriek escapes your lips as Javi brings your panties down as well, leaving you bare for him.

You can already see the bulge pressing against his pants. When you look at his face, his expression is almost pained as he looks between your thighs.

“Gonna taste even sweeter now, baby,” he practically moans. His eyes flick up to catch your stare and he flashes you a smile. “Lay back for me,” he instructs. You obey quickly, laying down until the back of your head touches the table.

The first spurt of the cold cream comes unexpectedly, making you yelp as it lands on your clit and starts to slide down. Javi only laughs. “Always so sensitive,” he teases.

You whimper in response as you stare at the dimly-lit ceiling. Even though you’re not watching him right now, you know that Javi’s getting on his knees in front of you. He gently parts your folds with his thumbs as the melting whipped cream travels to your hole. Just as you feel it land there, he leans forward and scoops it up with his tongue, so gentle that it makes you shiver.

Your hips chase his mouth as he pulls away, but his hand comes up to push one of your knees.

“Javi, p-please,” you beg quietly. You’re almost surprised how quickly this has gotten you pent up.

He chuckles as you let your eyes drift to his kneeling form. “Patience, baby,” is all he says. He keeps his eyes on yours as he lifts the can again and squirts some whipped cream into his mouth and then sets it down again. He just winks before leaning forward and putting his mouth on your cunt.

You moan as he starts to spread it with his lips and tongue, making a complete mess out of you. The sensation of both the heat and cold makes you dizzy, delirious for more. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, the cold and softness of it mixed with his strong, warm tongue as it begins to lick up and down and inside of you.

He holds your thighs open as he swirls your clit with the tip of his tongue before going lower and dipping it into your hole.

“God, you taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praises through a groan.

“Feels good,” you moan in reply.

Suddenly, you feel his tongue push into you again, fucking you with the muscle as he reaches for the can again. He curls within you as he puts another squirt on your clit. When he comes back up to envelop your clit with his plush lips, the cream sloshing between the two of you, your hands find their way into his hair. You tug on the strands as he sucks harshly, flicking his tongue as he does so. He drinks up the cream and alternates between pressure as he swallows.

It doesn’t take long for you to start to feel your body warming in suspense of an orgasm. Javi continues to tease and suckle your clit, and when he takes a hand off of your thigh to slide a finger inside of you, you know you’re done for. He hooks his finger as he pumps it and you’re immediately clenching around it, moaning as you pull his hair harder.

He helps you through it, growling and sending vibrations to your twitching clit before removing his finger and licking up the mixture of your release and the whipped cream. He keeps licking and sucking until there’s barely a trace of the sweet dessert left on your cunt. When he’s done, he licks his lips and sits black to look at your face.

You’re panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and looking utterly gorgeous. He finds himself smiling as you shoot him a grin, already knowing what the next words from your mouth are going to be.

“Your turn.”

As much as he would like that, he knows it’ll have to wait a bit. He still has a pile of presents to give you and your favorite dinner to make. Tonight is about you, but he certainly won’t object if you still want to return this favor a little later.

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604to647 · 28 days

Text

Birthday Bunny

1.5K / Modern!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You prepare a special gift for Din's birthday. (This is our Safest with You couple, but can be read as a stand-alone; all you need to know is that Din lives above the gym he owns.)

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please); established relationship, allusion to smut, lingerie, anal toys, pet names as usual (Pretty bird, sweetheart)

A/N: It's *somebody's* birthday today 🥳🎂so just wanted to write a little something where one of his characters gets a well deserved gift 🤭🍑 Also - Sorry! I try not to use images that denote physical attributes for reader but I had specific lingerie in mind and the website didn't have any pictures where it wasn't being modelled 😔 I hope it doesn't bother anyone or can be ignored/you can just imagine the garments on their own while reading 🙏🏻

Din always says that one of the things he loves about your lingerie is that you choose it for yourself, and he's just there to enjoy what you enjoy, what makes you feel sexy. An innocent, but very lucky, bystander.

Once in a while though, you’ll pick something to wear for him, and that’s when he feels like he’s won the lottery. Something purchased with him in mind, as much as yourself. Something still quintessentially you, soft and pretty, but picked just for him. A little less practical. A little more rippable.

Those are the times he can barely control himself when he sees you sprawled out on some soft surface, waiting coyly for him as he enters a room; he becomes feral the instant his brain catches up to his dick and it clicks for him that you’re there for him, that you want him, that he’s going to get to ruin you.

Those are the times when you feel like a pretty present to be unwrapped. Even if Din’s eyes darken to obsidian with want, his hands, his mouth, his lips, his cock still unravel you with care, first and foremost seeking to pleasure you. He makes you feel precious and so fucking sexy and it just makes you want to give everything, all of yourself, to him.

This is one of those times.

A special occasion.

When Din deserves a treat.

What to give a man who says he doesn’t want anything for his birthday except a good meal? Who you know has no use or desire for extravagant or luxury goods? Who has lovingly declared he already has everything because he has you?

You know what he deserves.

It’s taken weeks of prep. Literally.

First, you had to pick the right lingerie. Something that would present your body and curves to Din in a way that left no question that tonight is about him. That all your delicate parts are covered only so they can be discovered and undressed by Din, if and when he chooses. Something that has the pretense of elegance but masks a lascivious purpose underneath.

He likes you soft and teasing, his pretty bird.

You narrow it down to three baby-doll night dresses; unable to choose, you added them all to your cart earlier in the month and when they arrived last week, you had tried them on, giggling at what Din’s reaction might be to each one. Ultimately you settle on the third option, a lace and chiffon dress set with demi lace cups held up with three thin straps to give a cut-out impression over the breast with an attached short skirt made of the same material. You love how the tops of the lace bra graze just above where your nipples lie and that there’s a chance (a chance you’re counting on, actually) that when hardened, your nipples would peek out overtop. You give this a little try when adjusting yourself in the piece and find yourself shuddering at how the middle strap feels rubbing up against your exposed nipple. Yep, this is the one. You’re glad you splurged and got the accompanying robe. More for Din to take off, you think.

You had carefully put the other two nightgowns away, certain there will be future occasions to wear them.

Next was panties: none. That was easy.

Finally, accessories.

It had been more difficult than you anticipated finding a pair of bunny ears that didn’t look cheesy and cheap or didn’t recall the look of a 70s playboy bunny - neither of which was what you were going for. Eventually you found something you liked; a pretty pair that included an unexpected little lace mask that dips just over your eyes. You could forgo the mask and tuck it under the headband but you opt to keep it as is; it feels just the right side of sultry, not costume-y.

Lastly, the pièce de résistance. The entire point of tonight’s outfit; the actual gift you would be offering to Din. You run your fingers through the soft almost luxurious feeling synthetic fur of the bunny tail before your fingers come together as they smooth over the tapered shape of the stainless steel plug attached. After warming the metal between your fingers, you drip some lube onto the tip and coat the plug generously, spreading the excess with your fingers over your tight back hole. No matter how many times you’ve done this the last few weeks, there’s always a feeling of anxiousness right before you insert the plug.

When you purchased your fluffy bunny tail plug, you had also purchased a 3-set of silicone training plugs which you had been diligently wearing over the past several weeks, getting used to the ascending sizes until you could comfortably take and wear the metal one that you’re now gliding in past your closed ring. You have to admit, the exhilaration and relief right after insertion has overridden any anxiety twofold by now, and you find yourself getting immediately wet just from the fullness that was foreign to you only a month ago.

You and Din have experimented a little with anal play, but it’s hasn’t gone beyond him drawing tantalizing circles over your unexplored bud during sex, or pressing his thumb or one finger halfway in. You’ve never had anal sex before, but ass play with Din never fails to send an electrifying shock of arousal through you, your slick practically dripping down your thighs when he pays special attention to your backside and growls in your ear that all your holes are his.

The bunny tail plug that now sits snuggly in your ass with its pouffy fur ball perched between your butt cheeks is still a size small; not nearly large enough to approximate Din’s cock but you’re fairly proud that you’ve been able to train yourself to take it comfortably, and loosen yourself up to take more. You don’t have any definite plans to be fucked in the ass tonight, although it’s not off the table. Confident Din would never push you beyond what you feel comfortable doing, you figure you’ll just go with the flow and let Din work your ass open and see where it takes the two of you. You’ll get there eventually, you’re sure.

Din’s birthday surprise tonight is your offering via this little getup for him to be the first (and only) man to fuck you back there. You hope he likes it. (You hope he wants to!)

Kneeling pert and pretty on Din’s bed, you snap a shy selfie of your bunny ear clad self looking away, angling your phone from above to capture your spread thighs and ample tits barely covered by the lingerie, the matching robe lolling casually off one shoulder.

Din had agreed to stay down in the gym until you had finished “setting up” for his birthday upstairs.

You send Din the picture with a message: Come get your bunny, birthday boy. Giggling to yourself as you register Din’s thundering footsteps running up the stairs less than a minute after you press ‘send’, you hear the front door open with a bang and a breathy ‘Hey Al’ as Din dashes through the living room before appearing breathless in the doorway of his bedroom. He raises his right arm and uses it to lean against the doorframe, sending a shiver down your spine with the dark look in his eyes and his low baritone purr, “Hey pretty bird, are you my present?”

You nod shyly, not wanting to give away your secret yet, and beckon him over with a curl of your index finger. Din towers over you, eyes wide with want and a smidgen of disbelief that you’re real, taking in your lingerie set and the way it shapes over your tantalizing curves. He can’t wait to get his hands on you, not sure yet if he wants to just rip it all off or toy with the fabric and see how it reveals your delicious parts to him. When you tilt your head back, he bends over to capture your mouth in a searing, all consuming kiss. His tongue licks into you and roams the cavern of your mouth, mimicking the way his hands have started to roam your body. He starts with cradling your head between his hands, then runs them down your smooth, arched back. He’s got both his hands groping the plush globes of your ass when his hand brushes over something foreign, unexpected… something furry.

His body stills, “Sweetheart?”

You smile against his lips, “Happy birthday, Din.”

#happy birthday to that old man #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #modern!din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #modern au #no y/n

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 months

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Change of Plans

A/N: Although I am SEVERAL days late at this point, this is a gift for @something-tofightfor - HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RACHAEL! I hope your day was all that you wanted it to be, and that this year is the best fucking one yet. I so badly wanted this to be done in time, but you know me. Anywho, I love your guts and I hope you enjoy this chaotic little cake I whipped up with the help of one of your favorite cowboys.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: listen, don't do what Reader does here. Other than that... just some language. It's very tame. But don't do it.

Summary: Jack is there on business. You're there for pleasure.

He noticed you right away.

Sitting in the waiting area near gate A-7, right leg crossed over your left and an open book in one hand, you caught his eye -

Well hello, gorgeous.

- and he had to repeatedly free his focus from your direction, reminding himself why he was at the airport in the first place.

Damn it, Agent, you’ve got a job to do.

You turned the page of the book you were reading, letting out a sigh and stretching your neck, and Jack adjusted his position on the barstool he occupied so that he was forced to change his line of sight. He cleared his throat, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a sip. The bold, smoky flavor of the deep amber whiskey coated his tongue, and by the time he swallowed he was back on his task.

He’d been sent to locate and detain a known associate of a crime boss that Statesman was attempting to bring down. Intel gathered from Agents assigned to the case suggested that the associate - a mid level player who occasionally dealt in black market weapons - would be traveling through Louisville on his way to meet with the mysterious and nefarious man they knew only as The Gatekeeper. The current theory was that The Gatekeeper was operating out of San Francisco - or more specifically, out of a secret underwater lair that was built into one of the foundational structures of the Golden Gate Bridge, hence his nickname. But Statesman had been unable to confirm that yet. Catching up with the Gatekeeper’s gun runner was their best bet when it came to pinning down his location for sure, and since he had the most experience with facial recognition and planting trackers, the assignment had gone to Agent Whiskey.

So let’s find this shit kicker and get on with it so I can get on with… He resisted the urge to turn back in your direction.

Setting his glass down on the cork coaster it was served to him on, he brought his newly emptied hand up to tap the arm of his gold wire glasses. At the touch of his fingertip, the stealth lens screens activated, and he used them to scan the faces of the people moving through the terminal. So far none had hit as a match for the Gatekeeper’s associate, but since the man was clever enough to book himself tickets on multiple flights that day to make it harder for anyone who might be looking to follow him, Jack had to keep checking until he either found his target or the last of those flights had taken off.

I’ll find him. Soon as he shows up I’ll-

But Jack didn’t even need to finish the thought, because his lenses detected the person he’d been waiting for before he could. Just as he was about to get up from his seat and position himself to intercept his target, though, he saw something else flash across his lenses.

Mission directive has changed. Do not detain. Intel from Kingsman suggests associate may also be working with Golden Circle remnants in Canada. New directive is only to place the tracker and not to pursue until we know for sure who he is meeting. Agents in Vancouver and San Francisco have been put on alert and will be activated as needed.

Jack blinked twice to acknowledge Ginger’s message, then used the movement of his eyes to send a question in response.

Received. Return to HQ?

He had his jet on standby there at the airport in the event that he needed to abscond with The Gatekeeper’s man, and he assumed that since that was no longer necessary, Champ and Ginger would want him to come back and await further information. Keeping one eye on his target, he used the other to read the new message that flashed across his lens, finding it to be a surprise.

Negative. Don’t want to risk the chance of counter tracking. Take the Pony somewhere for a few days first. Vegas or Denver are preferable but Mexico City is also available.

Well, shoot. Looks like I’m takin’ a vacation. My favorite kind of mission.

Ginger had listed cities where Statesman owned properties that were reserved for off duty use - for when Agents had to lay low for a while, or for when they needed a safe place to recover from injuries sustained in the line of duty. There were several more located around the world, but judging by the selection that was presented to him, they wanted him to stay close enough to either have him back in Kentucky in a matter of hours, or send him to California or British Columbia in a pinch when the intel on who the associate was meeting with came back.

Received. Target inbound. Contact when directive complete.

With that, he lifted his finger up to tap the arm of his glasses once more, the screens deactivating so that he could remove them, folding them for safe storage in the inner pocket of his jacket. In a turn of luck, his mark headed straight for the bar he was seated at and sat down two stools over. He showed no signs of having made Jack for a secret operative, not even bothering to look in his direction as he ordered a drink from the bartender.

Perfect.

Jack’s grin was imperceptible as he used his thumb and pointer finger to pull one of the small “buttons” from the cuff of his jacket sleeve. Flattening it with a tight pinch, he dropped the bio-tracker into his own beverage and watched as it dissolved into the liquid. It finished just as the bartender placed a rocks glass of whiskey on a coaster in front of Jack’s target. He waited for the other man to take a sip, and then he closed the distance, scooting over one stool so that he was right next to him, and then he greeted the man with a jovial tone.

“Did my ears deceive me just now, or did I hear you order the Statesman 12 year, my friend?” Jack pointed to the other man’s glass while holding his own.

The other man turned to face Jack, a semi-scowl on his face, his annoyance over being addressed by a seemingly drunken stranger as a “friend” clearly written in gray-green eyes. “What?” He glanced down at Jack’s glass and then at his own. “Oh.” He grunted and gave Jack a nod before taking another sip of his drink. “Yeah. You drinking the same, I take it?” He arched one eyebrow and turned back to face the television screen behind the bar without waiting for the answer to the question he’d just asked.

“Smoothest bourbon there is.” Jack held up his glass, inspecting the contents. To anyone else’s eye - even the man beside him - it would appear as though he were simply appreciating the way the overhead lights streaked through the rich amber liquid. In truth, he was making sure that the button-turned-tracker had been completely infused into the drink. Seeing that it was, he glanced over and caught his mark with his own glass midway to his lips once more.

Slow down there, son, leave some for our toast.

Reaching for the man’s elbow, he stopped him from draining the last of his beverage. “How about we both raise our glasses to good taste and safe travels?”

The other man jerked his arm away as though he’d been burned, the motion accompanied by a deeply frustrated sigh. Checking his watch, he rolled his eyes and shook his head at Jack. “Sure Fine. Just make it quick, I have a flight to catch.”

As he presented his glass for the toast, Jack aggressively clinked the rim of his against it - with just enough force so that some of his drink had sloshed into the other man’s glass without him noticing. “Quick it is. Safe travels.”

“Uh huh.” The sketch of a scowl was back as the man nodded again, knocking back the remainder of his drink, including the tracker. “Same to you.” With that, he slapped a fifty on the bar and left his empty glass, on his way to whatever gate would take him to whatever scumbag was waiting for him.

The Gatekeeper or the Golden Circle… or whoever the fuck else. We’ll know soon enough.

Taking his glasses back out of his pocket, Jack unfolded them and put them back on his face. With a tap of his finger the one-way screens hidden in the lenses activated again, and through a series of blinks and subtle eye movements, he sent confirmation of his mission back to Ginger Ale.

Tracker planted. Target in motion.

Before he got a response, though, he was distracted by a voice coming from over his shoulder. “Excuse me? Is anyone sitting there?”

He turned towards the speaker and his eyes widened, lips lifting into a slight grin when he saw that it was you.

Hot damn, she’s even prettier up close.

His grin grew at your sudden, small intake of breath when your eyes met. “All yours.” Using one hand, he pulled the stool out for you as Ginger’s message started to scroll across his field of vision.

You muttered a thank you as you chewed your lower lip. “You didn’t have to-”

Well done Agent Whiskey. The tracker is live and we are following its movement. Which location did you select?

“Now darlin’, what kind of gentleman would I be if I only did what I had to do?” He smiled, covertly answering Ginger’s question.

Not sure yet. Stay tuned.

You let out a sound that was almost a laugh, shrugging. “You’d be like most gentlemen I’ve known, I guess.”

Agent, we need to know-

Jack brought his hand up and tapped the side of his glasses, closing the communication screen and letting Ginger’s message go unfinished. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it and it wouldn’t be the last. He always eventually got back to her and never made her wait too long. But his focus had been drawn to you all afternoon, and now that you were sitting directly beside him, he wasn’t going to rush the interaction he’d been putting off for hours.

“Then allow me to introduce to you a different kind.” He reached up and swept his hat from his head, laying it on the bartop, and extended his free hand to you. “Jack Daniels.”

– – –

15 Minutes Earlier…

You checked your watch with a sigh, noting that you still had a little under an hour before you’d be called for boarding.

It’s fine. That means I can start another chapter now. You rolled your eyes. I’ll need a new book for the flight home at this rate, though.

It was one of those flights that didn’t make sense - with a 4 hour layover in a city that was completely out of the way of your destination. But that was why you’d been able to find tickets for only $48 each way, less than three days out. Things at work had been hectic, and you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to get the time off until the very last minute. So even though it certainly wouldn’t have been your first choice if you’d been able to book it months ago when the trip was first brought up, you were perfectly content to take the unnecessary stopover in Louisville on your way to Las Vegas.

Doesn’t hurt when the people watching prospects are this interesting, either.

You glanced over at the nearby bar and the astoundingly attractive man seated there who’d snagged your attention as soon as he arrived. He, like a handful of others in the terminal, wore a dark felted Stetson But unlike most, it suited him. As did his perfectly tailored suit and-

Oh, fuck, he’s wearing glasses now. And they look damn good on him, too.

You cleared your throat and forced your thoughts back to your trip and your reason for taking the less than desirable layover. Even though it meant spending hours alone in an airport, you were excited, because it also meant being able to see several of your friends who lived far away, and being able to celebrate your birthday with them. Well, not just your birthday. The trip was meant to be a group celebration to make up for the fact that you hadn’t all been able to get together for a birthday in years. Since there happened to be two of you who had birthdays in January, that was the month that was chosen. But the dates that were settled on had included your actual birthday smack dab in the middle of them, and you were looking forward to having something fun to do with people you missed.

Which was why you groaned as you read the notification that popped up on your phone regarding the flight status.

Delayed - Mechanical Issues

“Fuck.” You muttered under your breath, closing the airline app and tapping your phone screen to open the group chat so you could fill the others in on your situation. Before you finished typing though, your phone vibrated in your hand and a picture popped up of two of your friends - Jess and Maddy - both wearing ear to ear smiles at Harry Reid International, the text from Jess simply reading two words followed by several exclamation marks: We’re here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kayla chimed in next, responding with an emphatic YAY! and sending a screenshot of her GPS, showing that she was just under 2 hours out. Be there so soon!

Nat still had her phone on airplane mode since she’d only taken off from LAX about an hour earlier, so you didn’t bother waiting for an update from her before you finished typing your own.

Bad news, my flight out of Louisville is delayed. :( Mechanical issues… No idea when I’ll be there now, but I’ll keep you all posted.

You sent the message and tucked your phone into the outer pocket of your bag as disappointment set in. As it was, the rest of your friends were already supposed to arrive half a day before you. But now, it was looking like you were going to miss out on the entire first day of the trip.

Or more.

Frowning at the thought, you tried not to let yourself get too upset until you had a better idea of your situation. You told yourself that it could be something quick and easy to remedy - maybe you’d only have to wait one more hour. Maybe less. Either way, you decided that since half of the group was already there, it meant that the vacation had unofficially started, and it was time you treated yourself to a drink.

And if I know Jess and Maddy, they’re doing the same right now.

You picked up your bag, slinging the strap over your shoulder, and headed towards the bar. It was moderately crowded, only a few stools left vacant scattered here and between other travelers. But as you got closer you noticed that the man you’d caught yourself spending more time watching than any of the others was still seated there - and that the seat beside him had just become empty.

Perfect timing.

That confidence lasted only until the man spun at the sound of your voice, and seeing him up close had nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.

Oh, shit. He’s-

By the time he’d given you his name along with his hand to shake, you��d noticed things about him that you hadn’t from across the room. Like the flecks of tan and gold that lightened his dark brown eyes, the distinct bow of his upper lip beneath his mustache and how it rested against the plush pillow of the lower one, the way you couldn’t see a stitch of leather on him aside from his boots, but the smell of it - along with bergamot - clung to him and made him even more appealing.

You swallowed, his warm hand wrapping around yours and squeezing as you managed to tell him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack.”

Without letting go of your hand or releasing your eyes from the lock his own had on them, he repeated your name back to you, the sound of it making your face grow warm. “Pleasure’s all mine, I promise you.”

When he winked as he withdrew his hand, you knew you were screwed. You ordered yourself a drink - something local, a bourbon you’d not seen before called Statesman - and Jack, though approving of your choice, simply asked for a glass of water. As you brought the glass to your lips, another thought popped into your head.

But am I really screwed, though? Because… he seems just as interested as I am.

Over the next half hour, you and Jack made small talk and subtly flirted in smirks and glances. You asked him what brought him to the airport that day, to which he’d answered:

“Had some business here earlier. But that’s done, so the rest of my evening is completely free.”

You shook your head at that, taking another sip of your drink. Damn that’s good. “Don’t you have a flight to catch?”

At that, he grinned and spread his large hands wide. “Ah, well, that is one of the perks of being my own pilot.” He raised one eyebrow and leaned towards you. “I can leave whenever I choose.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. That definitely makes him even more attractive somehow, though.

You mouthed the word wow and let out a stunted laugh as you reached into your bag to retrieve your phone. Some time had passed and you were hoping that there would be another notification about the status of your delayed flight. “That must be nice.” You groaned as you saw that there was nothing new from the airline, and several texts from your friends expressing their dismay over your travel woes. Shaking the phone in your hand, you sighed. “I’m here on a layover that got delayed and the rest of my friends are already in Vegas.” Looking over at him, you wet your lips with your tongue. “I’d love to be able to just… hop in and take off whenever I wanted to.”

– – –

Well, shit. Did she just say Vegas?

Clearing his throat, Jack reached up to tap the arm of his glasses. Several missed messages came through at once, all from Ginger, but he blinked them away as he spoke. “Well, I know we’ve only just met, and I’m not trying to make any suggestions-” Though I could. “- But I happen to be going to Sin City myself tonight.” He had to contain his grin at the flash in your eyes as he used the nickname for the gambling town. “I’d be more than happy to take you with me.”

Destination selected. Las Vegas, Nevada, USA.

You sucked in a breath at his proposition, and though he knew you were likely considering saying no, he hoped you’d say yes. “I… Jack, I couldn’t ask you to-”

“You’re not. I’m askin’. I’ll show you my license and everything to prove that I’m legit, but darlin’, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” He tilted his head towards the window. “No tellin’ how long they’ll need to fix that bird, and if your friends are already there…” He trailed off and shrugged, returning his gaze to you. “My jet is fully fueled and ready to go. I could get you there so you don’t have to miss out too much. More than you already have, I mean.”

He could practically hear Ginger’s reply when it came through, but he fought the urge to let out a snort as he read it.

IT’S ABOUT TIME, AGENT. Make sure your friend buckles up. We’ll contact you when you can return to HQ.

You bit your lower lip again, and he couldn’t help but watch the way your teeth dug into your flesh. “I…” He saw the rest of your protest dissolve the same way the tracker had earlier, your eyes shifting from skeptical to excited until that’s all he saw in them. You laughed, then, lifting your hand and holding up one finger. “Alright. I’ll… yes. I’ll take you up on it. But on one condition.”

Received. Will await contact. Over.

Jack reached up to tap his glasses before removing them and stowing them in his pocket. He leaned in closer to you, concentrating on the quirk of your lips and the mixture of impulse and instinct in your eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

“You let me buy you a drink once we get there.” You said it over the rim of your glass as you finished the last of it, eyes on him as you swallowed.

An excuse to go out with a beautiful woman? That’s the condition?

Jack flashed you a smile. “I think those terms are more than agreeable, ma’am.”

– – –

What the fuck am I doing?

You half laughed at yourself, but at the same time there was something about Jack that made you feel like you could trust him. You were aware that that could be a danger in and of itself, but your gut told you he was a good man, and you had always felt that you were a good and accurate judge of character.

How’s it any different from meeting a guy and getting in his car with him? It’s not, really.

It was, and you knew it was, but you hadn’t been wrong yet. And as much as you wanted to get to Vegas to see your friends, you also found yourself wanting more time to get to know Jack. He was offering you the chance to do both of those things, and even though you were looking for one, you couldn’t find a downside.

Pulling out your phone, you opened the group chat and sent one text before switching it to airplane mode.

Change of plans. Met a (really good looking) pilot who was on his way to Vegas and offered me a ride. Sending a screenshot of his license number in case I go missing hahaha. Just kidding. I’ll be fine. See you soon!

You knew what they’d say when they saw your message.

Jess would likely just send a thumbs up - or possibly a photo of herself giving a thumbs up.

Maddy would emphasize your message and respond with something like Okay but don’t die!

Kayla’s message would be a more whimsical reaction like Jesus take the wheel! (Wait do planes have wheels?) or Life is short, take rides from hot pilots when you can with the peace sign emoji.

And Nat would send advice from several documentaries and podcasts she’d seen or listened to, about what to do if you were being abducted.

You laughed to yourself again at the entire situation.

“Alright, Jack.” You hopped down from your stool and picked up your bag. “I’m ready when you are.”

He stood, taking his hat from the bartop and placing it on his head. “No time like the present.” Running his hands over his clothes, he smoothed out his suit jacket. “Follow me, darlin’. And give me that.” He pointed his chin towards your bag. “I’m a gentleman, remember? Where would my manners be if I let a lady carry her own bags?”

You shook your head with a smile and handed over your carry-on, leaving you with only your purse. “I don’t know. You’re teaching me about gentlemen, remember?”

You knew when you saw his eyes darken that you’d made the right call.

“Oh, sugar. I remember. Few hours to Vegas. Plenty of time for me to teach you things.” With that he started walking and you were left to follow, slightly stunned at the implications in his tone and in his words.

This is definitely going to be a trip to remember, that’s for sure.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or filling out the form on my masterlist! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @dihra-vesa @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @trickstersp8 @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @novemberrain221 @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @Noisynightmarepoetry

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY RACHAEL!#pretend this was on time #jack daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x female reader #jack daniels x female reader #pedrostories #jack whiskey daniels fic #kingsman the golden circle #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x female reader #pedro pascal character #agent whiskey fic #jack daniels fic #it's cowboy times

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morallyinept · 6 months

Text

Birthday Cake - A Frankie Morales One Shot

Summary: It's Frankie's birthday and you make him a birthday cake.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 3.1k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Established relationship/oral M & F receiving/unproteced PIV (wrap up, folks!)

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Written for my birthday. Completely self-indulgent; Frankie's the best gift, right? For anyone else celebrating their birthday today, I'm sending you the biggest smooch. 💋🖤

Frankie speaks some Spanish in this, I've not provided translations as there's not much and it's easy enough to Google.

Check out my other birthday story, featuring Joel Miller, called Candles.

MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“Feliz Cumpleaños!” You call enthusiastically as you step out holding the cake, wearing nothing but his favourite lacy underwear that he loves on you so much.

And heels, don’t forget the heels as you totter closer to him. The candles flicker, so you slow your pace.

“¿Qué es esta sorpresa?” Frankie baulks, tossing down his jacket and keys, and grinning from ear to ear.

He looks you up and down hungrily like a sexual predator. His mind runs through all the scenarios on what he could do with you right now, and from the look on his face, they’re all filthily obscene.

It makes you shudder and clench.

“Make a wish, baby,” you smile at him as he leans in to blow out the candles.

The cake is three layers, covered in fluffy white frostng, with his name written on the top in squiggly blue letters. A DIY crank job, that you’ve painstakingly spent hours making clandestinely, whilst the boys took him out for a birthday brunch, even though it looks like something a two-year-old has smooshed together.

Once the candles are blown out, he wraps his thick arm around you, pulling you in close for a sweet kiss.

“Muchas gracias, hermosa, this is amazing!” Frankie murmurs gratefully, squashing you close to his warm, strong body where you inhale bergamot and beer.

“Careful, you’ll get cake on you.” You giggle as you move it out the way onto the table before it’s flattened between the two of you. Although, judging by the state of it, it would probably do it a favour to die a quick death, you think.

“And what would be the problem in that, hmm?” Frankie rasps hungrily as he kisses up and down the side of your face; his soft scruff tickling at your skin leaving tingles in your gums, and gives your pert ass cheeks a long, tight knead inside those giant hands of his. He groans as he looks over you again.

“I made it just for you,” you pout “to eat.”

“Looks delicious.” Frankie compliments, and he reaches for it, swiping his index finger into the frosting and sucks up the puffy cloud on the end of it. “Mmm,” he sighs.

You smile up at him, pleased with your efforts.

“You look fucking amazing.” He pants, losing words on the steam of his breath.

“It’s all for you,” you smirk up at him as he pulls your chin towards him, inside his thumb and wet forefinger, and smooches delicately onto your lips.

He slips his tongue inside your mouth and you can taste the sweetness from the frosting.

“Mmm,” he groans as he continues to paw at your ass. “Lucky me.”

You watch as he runs his finger around the side of the cake again and a mound of white frosting gathers on the tip once more. He sticks his finger inside his mouth and sucks it clean, all the while maintaining a hypnotic eye contact with you. “Tastes better than it looks,” he grins.

You roll your eyes at him as he chuckles. “I love it,” he confirms. “Es perfecta y tan pensativa.”

“It took me all morning to make this for you.” You sigh and look at your clumsy handiwork despondently. The kitchen is a complete wreck and the thought of cleaning it up later isn’t a welcome one.

Frankie swipes his finger inside the cake’s frosting again, then holds it out for you this time. You lean forward and lick the it off his finger, sucking the thick, calloused digit clean.

“Good, no?” He asks you.

You nod. “Not too bad if I say so myself.” You grin proudly. There’s no denying the taste of the cake is exquisite; it’s just the putting it together that’s the issue. It looks incredibly lopsided on the plate and as though it will topple over at any moment.

Frankie looks down at you hungrily and watches as you gasp when he squeezes your butt more lavishly now. Massaging your cheeks, he starts to nuzzle into your neck; breathing in the scent of your body lotion and perfume, kissing and mouthing up to your ear.

You can feel how hard he is as he tugs you closer to him, through his jeans. Your fingers hook into his belt loops as you crush him closer.

With his other hand, he reaches the mound of your breasts; so pert and bouncy in your bra, and gives them a good fondle too.

“You look so hot,” Frankie whines like he’s drunk, as he kisses across your cheek.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah.” He then kisses down your collarbone, running his hot, wet tongue towards your cleavage and smooches over the front of the cups of your bra whining, until his fingers pull the material and reveal swollen areolas waiting just for him.

He looks up at you as he sucks and tongues your nipples awake; flicking them, teasing them and gnawing on them around his teeth.

Your legs feel like jelly as they buckle underneath you to watch him do that. It drives you bat shit crazy when he sucks on your nipples like this. The tingles and swirling pleasure that centres through them pulls tight and heavy, and you can feel that delicious ache between your legs start to bloom and throb.

Frankie reaches for the cake, and jabs his fingers into the frosting. He then runs his cakey fingers around your nipples, covering them in frosting, pulls you closer and opens his mouth.

He sucks and licks it off, groaning in delight as he swallows it all down.

“Mmm, my God.” You mewl as you watch him clean up your breasts. He stands up right, licking his lips.

“Sit on it,” Frankie prompts you. “Sit on the cake, hermosa.” His eyes are flashing dangerously at you, turning darker as the seconds tick on.

“But, it will get squashed.” You protest with a wry grin.

“It’s my birthday, right?” He cocks his brow at you.

“Yeah-”

“So, what I really want for my birthday is to eat this cake off your pussy, tu me entiendes?” He states with a bright, pink smirk under his moustache.

You grin wide, your body starting to prickle with sweat, as he brings the plate down to the floor, and supports your back as you sit on top of the cake after removing your panties.

You feel frosting go everywhere.

“Oh my god,” you giggle, and then he pushes you gently onto the couch on your back and spreads your legs wide.

He kneels down in between them, his eyes darting all over the sight of you with cake and frosting smashed all over your cunt and the insides of your thighs.

“You look good enough to eat, fuck…” Frankie flicks his tongue through the flumps of frosting and cake bits as he sets to work feasting on you.

You take his cap as the rim gets cake on it and toss it across the couch. His hair is all curly and messy underneath it and you run your hands through it, raking it back as he tastes you.

He licks all up the inside of your thighs, cleaning you up. Around the outsides of your lips, slowly teasing you. Then, when he can tell you’re gagging for him to just do it already, he licks his tongue all over your clit.

“Oh yeah…” You coo as you close your eyes, feeling his magic tongue cast entrancing spells on your body and mind alike.

He sucks gently, but firmly, on your clit; wiggling his tongue around on the tip through the plumes of frosting, and the insides if your thighs jolt and jerk. It's all over his chin as he pops his head up to grin at you; licking around his lips like a hungry dog just rewarded with a treat.

You can’t help but giggle at the sight of him, reaching to wipe some of the frosting from his chin and sucking it off your thumb as he laps back at your slit and makes your back arch.

“Fuck, Frankie!” You groan as he slips his two middle fingers inside of you; finger fucking you deeply as he gnaws on your cake covered cunt.

“Sabes tan bien… so fucking good,” he mewls looking at you from between your legs, and you can hear his pants and groans as he opens his mouth and tongues your swollen nub to death.

“I’m gonna come,” you breathe, tensing your legs to which he holds them open at the thighs weighing them down and sucks your clit as you peak. “Fuck. Oh my God, yes… yes!”

You start squirming when it gets too sensitive, and you hear his raspy chuckle from your centre as you tug tightly at his curls.

“Oh God, it’s too much… Frankie-” You giggle and try to squirm away, but he’s too strong.

“Nu-uh,” you hear him say as he sucks and thrashes his tongue around on your clit harder.

You writhe and buck against his face and his fingertips are prodding into your thigh meat keeping you in place.

“Oh God, Frankie… please!” You pant arching upright, your head off the cushions and straining; your hands fisting harder in his scalp, your whole body is tense and locked as you come again.

He always knows how to get you off with his tongue, knows your body has it in you to have more, even if it feels like you can’t.

You flop back into the couch, breathless as he crawls up your body and smirks at you licking his lips. He has cake crumbs smeared up his scruff, and even some peppered in his eyebrows.

Frankie swipes his fingers inside the frosting from the crushed cake on the floor, and sticks his fingers inside your mouth; swirling them around your tongue and in the sides of your cheeks; watching with open lips as you suck and swallow the it down.

He still continues to run his fingers around your mouth long after the cake fluff is gone from them. Just enthralled by the way you suck, tease them and nip on them, just like you would with his cock.

You push him upright so he’s sitting on the couch now, reaching for his belt. He holds his hands up out of the way smirking, and watching you as he lifts his hips off the sofa momentarily so you can tug his jeans and boxers down.

His cock thunks up against the soft swell of his belly. He pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the floor, eagerly anticipating what’s to come as you take off your bra.

You reach for the cake, clawing your fingers into it and take a fist full, and smear it all over his hard, weeping cock, and balls.

He holds his cock out to you at the base as he’s sat slouched back into the cushions; his long legs running parallel either side of you as you kneel between them. You scratch up the back of his calves as you lean forward and take his fluffy, snow coated dick inside your mouth; the frosting clouding around your lips.

“Fuck,” he drones, his head leaning back and closing his eyes as you suck hard on the head of him, and stripping him of his breath.

He whines as you start the clean-up job, running your tongue up and down him and taking mouthfuls of cake as you lick his cock.

“Mmm,” he whines watching you and biting onto his bottom lip through droopy, mesmerised eyes. You run your tongue all down his shaft; the icing becomes pearly and more fluid as it mixes sticky with your saliva.

It’s sweet and cloying, and as you run your tongue over and around his balls, you’re looking up at him and sucking one of them gently into your mouth as you pump his cock slowly with your hand, tightening around him as you go.

“Ah fuck… yeah,” Frankie coos as he watches, utterly beside himself, as you lick all the cake frosting and suck and play with his plump balls. Swollen and throbbing with that need he has for you; that need to cover you in that frosting of his own.

You pop the tip of him back inside your mouth and suck down deeply on him, feeling him at the back of your throat. The husks of his grunts, like a whisper pelted in wet gravel, echo inside your ears.

Frankie has no words when you take him all the way down to the soft fuzz of hairs at the base of him; instead, the noises puffing out of him makes your pussy plead on its knees in subjugation of him.

His huge hands massage inside of you hair and soon you feel him fucking your face, pushing his cock deeper as he thrust his hips, forcing himself further down your throat.

Heaves roll up from your stomach but you don’t choke fully on him; inhaling deeper through your nose that it whistles somewhat as he pants, bucking into your face as you open wider.

Gug-gug-gug... an unrelenting rhythm of sticky suction, and satisfied grunts flow from his mouth around the lounge. You mouth him and suck, driving him utterly wild as he gasps and groans in delight.

“Come here,” he grunts, reaching for you and hoisting you into his lap where he angles his cock at your pussy and slips inside you without wasting a second.

“Ah yeah!” “Fuck!” You both chime and gasp at the same time.

“You’re so wet; you’re drenched.” He’s panting, grinning and beside himself with the state you're in.

You breathe out into his face as he fills you up and packs you out.

You wrap your arms around the back of his thick neck, slipping up and down on him. His skin is sticky from the cake; crumbs and frosting trails are everywhere.

Your breasts taste so sweet as he takes your nipple inside his mouth and swirls his tongue around it before reaching up to kiss you on the lips. You ride hard, feeling yourself slam down on his cock each time he fucks up into you.

Both of you are frantic, hungry for each other.

He reaches for the remainder of the cake and grabs it, and slathers it all over your tits and chest, then crushes you towards him.

The cake and frosting is smooshed between your bodies; the sugary cream and frosting splurge out everywhere, and pieces of the sponge are wrenched apart as you both become utterly covered in it.

It’s all over the sofa, the carpet; in your hair. It would be worth the clean up later.

Frankie smirks at you as you run your hands in the cake, smear it over his chest and slip your fingers into his mouth.

He sucks and licks them clean with some urgency and you kiss and lick each other’s faces, gorging upon one another hungrily whilst you fuck deeply and intensely.

“Mmm, Frankie... Please, oh God!” You groan, feeling your body tighten and clench again.

“You close, baby?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Come all over my cock.” He encourages. “Soak it with that tight, little cunt, hermosa.”

He's in deep, plunging that cock right up into the hilt of you, and your body begins to shake and tense once more.

You cry out as you peak; your pussy contracting all around him. Riding him hard to get your rocks off and feeling dizzy and hot.

“Fuuuccck!” Frankie yells out; his head thrown back into the sofa cushions and eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

He loves it when you come like this around his cock. The squeezing and the convulsing against him, oh it feels divine.

"That's it, baby. Yeah, like that.” He encourages you, watching you lose your shit all over him. His thumb strokes your clit and you sonic boom.

“So good,” he hisses as you move around and around. “Right there... that’s it. Oh fuck, that’s so sweet!” He grunts. “I’m gonna come so deep inside of you, te voy a inundar llena, niña!

He has a nub of cake smeared on his cheek and you bend forward and lick it up and he grips onto your butt, squeezing it fondly whilst you ride him through the shakes.

“I want you to come in my mouth, Frankie.” You pant.

He nods, “I’m almost there,” he whines.

You slip off of his lap and sink to your knees, sucking on his cock. You can taste your sweet slick, and you run your sticky, frosted hands over his shaft once more and taste the cake inside your mouth alongside the thick track of his dick.

You massage his shaft, pumping up and down as you suck hard on him and he grips the sides of the sofa cushions, thrusting his hips into your mouth.

“Shit! ¡Sí! Sigue adelante!” He calls, his neck and thighs tensing, then he shoots plentiful bursts of his creamy, thick ejaculate into your mouth.

You work his cock; his come bubbling around your lips as it drips and leaves pearly strings dangling from his shaft.

You continue to suck on him long after he’s come. Just gently massaging and mouthing him and running that tongue over him as he watches enthralled, and like he’s died and gone to fucking blow job heaven.

“Mmm,” Frankie breathes, fingering through your cake laden hair, as you look up at him doe-eyed and wink as you clean him up and swallow him all down.

You’re both a sticky, crummy mess. The sofa and the carpet are a fucking mess. Cake explosions everywhere.

Frankie takes your hands inside his giant ones, and pulls you back into his lap where you sit on his frosted and crumb covered thighs.

“So, you liked your cake then?” You nuzzle into him smirking, and smooching on his hooked nose, then onto his pink lips, for a kiss that seems like it won’t ever end.

“Best birthday cake ever,” he whispers back to you with a breathy grin.

Thank you so much for reading this lil' birthday fic of mine! 🎉 Re-blogs & comments are always appreciated & fuel me. 🖤

MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

#frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales triple frontier #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #jett's writing #jett's birthday #jett's pedro boys

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