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#wildemaven moodboard
wildemaven · 2 days
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Look At Us Inspo
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sweet-creature-series · 5 months
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Sweet Creature Vibes
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undercoverpena · 6 months
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anytime
javier peña x f!reader
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summary: “Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper. Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing the place where the hair sits atop his lip. “Anytime, cariño.” “Anytime, really?”
wordcount: 3.1k. warnings: fluff. bestfriends to lovers. banter. reader wears a dress and has a gloss on lips. no physical description. javi calls reader solecito as a nickname only. likely warnings for spelling as i wrote this on my phone. an: huge thanks to @wildemaven for creating this moodboard (pls go show it some love), letting me make a banner from it, and then letting me write this for Javi instead of Frankie. bby, i hope you like this.
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Javi had never been good at avoiding challenging situations.
For the longest time, he’s been finding himself in the centre of a whirlwind—whether in Bogotá, Cali or apparently even back home.
You, his friend, best friend—a well-kept secret, tucked away in his chest, not shared with a soul when he was away. You were a thing that he’d clutched close to his chest from the moment the two of you had first gotten close, through his failed engagement and even more so when he left for Colombia. You, in all your understanding, hugging him, telling him he’d be great, amazing, the very best.
Both of you were younger then, less worn down by life, its many obstacles and all the other things.
You best not become best friends with anyone over there, Peña. As if anyone could annoy me as much as you, solecito.
In the brief interim of his return, you hadn’t appeared all that different. You may have had a job, a house—drove a slightly better car than when the two of you were staying out at all hours—but you, at your core remained very much the fucking same.
Still just as understanding, as kind. A person who got him, without really needing to try.
For Javi, the best thing—outside of you being you and the monthly calls you made him promise to keep when he was drowning in murder, drugs and Escobar—is that you never ask him about it. Any of it.
You had always let him pretend, escape, listen to you fill him in on gossip—things such as disagreements over the size of rhubarb and whether someone was having an affair. A thing you did even when he came back. Even more grateful for it then, when he grew tired of the questions, the compliments, the everything.
Its why he didn’t tell you when he would land back in Laredo for good. Just waiting, standing outside your place, leaning against your car as you walk down the street—eyes brushing over him, pausing, before he gets to see that smile. That signature fucking smile.
When he’d left the first time, he remembers how you’d lingered near your car, unwilling to climb into your bright yellow death trap—the entire reason he called you solecito to begin with—wearing the beginnings of that smile even then.
The difference is now he knows that there was something under it. Hidden, held back, kept from him.
It’s why it meant so much to him when he saw it in all its glory, all alight, blooming and somehow healing.
He can’t explain it, but it repairs strands inside of him. Your presence alone continuing to do so when he meets you for lunches, coffees, and late-night drinks. In exchange, he makes you laugh, your head thrown back as he tells you about whatever he did on the ranch—all of it comical, apparently. Because the idea of him, Javier Peña doing ranch work brought tears to your eyes.
“You’re just jealous.”
“Jealous?” you splutter, taking a mouthful of your beer as you narrow your eyes.
Nodding, he leans back into the booth, arm stretched out, picking and picking—the label crumbling from the sweating bottle. “Yeah. Bet you’re upset you don’t get to see me herd cattle and mend fences.”
“Oh, yeah. One-hundred-percent.”
Shrugging, he grins—an easy task with you. A thing that has always been that way, even when he turned up at your door when he couldn’t get married; even when the two of you sat under the stars when he told you about possibly going to Colombia. You still made him grin—even when things weren’t fucking easy at all.
“I’ll add it to my to-do list—visit Peña on the ranch—it’s currently sat under finding a dress, a boyfriend and the will to fucking live.”
Snorting, he traces his bottom lip with his thumb.
Your face scrutinises him, before rolling your eyes. And he just waits—because you always spill eventually.
One. Two. Th—
Fine, you huff, before it unravels from you. How the wedding of your work colleague is close, closer than I thought and you’re tired of attending these things alone, circled like a fucking fish by single sharks.
And he’s listening, taking it in. Trying to not wince at how high-pitched you’ve got as you’ve ranted.
Mainly, Javi finds there’s more questions rising than answers provided.
One singular one rising to the top. A thing he’s wanted to ask for the last few weeks. Not in a rude way, or in the way it burns inside his chest when he talks to you on the phone and he has to bury it. But, it’s there, bubbling, wishing to escape and know. It's even louder when the two of you are like this, crammed in a space, laughing, smiling, sharing, wondering—
Why are you even single? How are you?
You’ve mentioned people—names, here and there when the two of you had been on the phone. Them fluttering out before you can pull them back, but then they’re forgotten. Javi, I get one call a month—let me tell you about the cattle war going off. And, in a way, he didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know, so he never asked.
Now, it’s all he wants to ask.
Because you’re… you. You’re brilliant, beautiful—funny, clever, witty. And yet—
“—so, now it’s a week out, and I need to find a dress, a date and drive there to watch another person I know get married.”
He knows he should busy his mouth with the bottle—wrap his odd idea in beer. But, that part of him—the one which wants to help, solve issues, and be useful—rises up in him like a phoenix left from the ashes of Colombia.
“I’ll go with you.”
He expects the pause, even braces for the look of shock.
He doesn’t expect the smirk. Doesn’t expect the way it spreads out, to hit your eyes. How under the low-bar light over the table, it makes your eyes glimmer and fucking shimmer.
“You want to go to a wedding with me?”
Shrugging, he picks off the last part of the label—the mess of it all circling around where the glass meets the wood.
Mirroring him, you shrug. “Alright.”
“Alright.”
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He should take his eyes off you, but he finds he can’t.
Javi hasn’t been able to since you stepped out of your place, a handful of your dress as you locked up—stepping down your steps to his car, letting it flutter down to your ankles.
You look like a fucking dream.
A thought he knows he shouldn’t have—but has all the same. His heart staggered, half-halting in its hammering as his hands paused in their drumming on the steering wheel; his glasses slid down his nose, his skin suddenly warm all over, even if his jacket was already splayed out across the backseat.
Close your mouth, Peña.
I’m chewing gum, solecito.
Yeah, that’s why your mouth is open.
It hadn’t passed his notice that you were good-looking before today. He’s known you were, had always known it—he had eyes, after all. But, he’d always felt there was a line. A line the two of you never delved too close to step over. The sign above both of your heads already illuminated in bright bulbs and flashing lights:
JUST FRIENDS.
Until this, anyway. This thing that can only be described as the longest one-hour drive he’s ever been on. And he used to do recon with Murphy.
Because you’re teasing, taunting him. All in that usual way that you do. And it’s so easy to flirt back, to let line after line roll, but he has begun to spot you squirming.
Doing so while matching his suit in a deep brown shade—chosen by him, ‘pick a colour suit, Javi’. Adding a tinge to some of your comments—things that if said by someone that wasn’t you, he’d ask them (flirtingly) if they were coming on to him.
But with you, it’s something he can never be sure. Never something that can be completely understood, known, cracked or figured out. In the same way, he can’t understand how your perfume keeps following him. How it embeds itself into the cabin of his truck when he picks you up, sews itself into his clothing when the two of you meet—and right now, is attempting to bury itself in his skin, muscles, and bones.
“You’ve been abnormally quiet.”
Smirking, he snorts. Fingers smoothing out his hair as he swings into a spot—the tyres crunching over the gravel. “Have I? Or have you just not shut up.”
“Rude.”
Laughing, he cuts the engine—hands resting on the top of his thighs, not missing the way your eyes follow his movements before clearing your throat. It shifts something in him, makes a little part of him surge, like the smallest of fireworks suddenly erupting in his chest.
Something he forces himself to shut down the moment you shove open your door, slipping out, as he grabs his jacket.
“Do I need to be worried about you crying today, solecito?”
Rearranging your dress, and slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you squint as you stand tall, hand covering your brow as you meet his gaze.
And fuck, with this backdrop, even squinting, you look beautiful, radiant, stunning all over again. Somehow his brain having forgotten when you were next to him, when you were acting as if this was the most normal fucking thing they’ve ever done.
It isn’t.
Something he’s becoming more aware of as his throat goes dry, and his thoughts slow to nothing—
“No, you’re good. Your mouth is open again.”
You say it with a smirk, all teasing—making heat lick up his spine all over again. And, if you were anyone else, he’d have already pulled you close, tilted your chin up, and likely smothered your mouth with his.
But, you’re his friend—his best friend. The one solid thing he’s had in his life since he became a name, a poster, a hero.
“C’mon,” you say, turning on your heel as you head in the direction of the entrance, him following, jacket slipping on as he mutters mouth isn’t fucking open under his breath.
Even if he knows it was. Even if he’s desperately trying to stop his eyes from descending down to your hips, eyes fixated on the way you walk with ease to the wooden sign which greets all the guests.
He knows, due to his absence from home, there haven’t been many weddings he’s attended. Least of all like this. But even he thinks this is over the top, suddenly understanding why you hadn’t wanted to come alone. Because grand doesn’t quite cover it—not after the last one he’d attended.
This one has flickering candles lit in the day, waiters all set to hand glasses of bubbles and offer little mouthfuls of flavour on silver trays. Then, there’s the backdrop—the enormity of the building, only for you to tell him that it’s an outside wedding.
It’s more of a comfort as to why his hand drops to the small of your back than anything else. A need to be rooted, to feel calmer as he nods at passing people he doesn’t know (and hopes don’t know him), feeling you curl into him subconsciously, your bag swinging between the two of you both—affording a gap, forcing it, in fact.
The ceremony will start soon.
He overhears it, as he assumes you do, because your fingers wrap around his wrist—taking it from your back, before your palm meets his, and then you’re guiding, leading. Dragging him. All willingly to the back of the building where he sees it—the makeshift aisle. A wooden arch, and lots of deep orange-brown chairs all line up on either side of an orange aisle.
“Glad we chose brown now,” he murmurs.
“Does it make you think, y’know—being at a wedding?”
He swallows. Because it’s a loaded question.
One he assumes has been sitting all politely on the tip of your tongue since you sat beside him in his vehicle. It’s why his eyes watch you carefully as you grab the two of them a flute each from a passing waiter. Handing it to him, adding nothing—not rescuing him. Just waiting instead, doing that thing you do, where your eyes widen as you wait, trying to look all innocent even though it’s you who has just dropped a live grenade into the centre of the conversation.
Shaking his head, he snorts. “No. Not really. Knew… I knew deep down it wasn’t right. Her… and me.”
“You got any idea what’s right?”
You take a sip this time when the question lands, it again sparkling in glittered innocence, the softest of smiles pressed against the glass.
You he thinks. But he swallows that away and says ‘Not a fucking clue’ instead.
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Throughout the day, he’s been desperate for a reason to stop looking at you.
So far, he’s found none.
Bits and pieces of things Murphy used to say, the words he’d drop into conversation when talking about his wife: how he knew, why she was the one, all coming back to him in drips and drops.
It dawns on him, the same as it had done since before he went to Cali, that you might mean a little more than a friend. A lot of what Murphy used to say, so easily applied to how Javi felt about you.
You make him feel calmer, create a space where he can relax, really unwind. It’s easy, uncomplicated, when he’s with you—from the conversation to the things he thinks. Complex balled thoughts stretch out until they’re in easy-to-decipher lines, able to process, able to understand.
He even told you about the boats.
A secret he’d have been prepared to take to the grave, if not for the fact you pointed out he wasn’t sleeping. Your eyes watching, pleading, don’t lie to me. And fuck, he couldn’t—not even if he wanted to.
That should have been the first sign.
He guesses he should be thankful today has been stuffed with more of them. One after the other. From the way you made sure to make him a plate of only his favourite things, to the way you knew when he needed a bit of space from the thousand questions as to how you both knew one another, and what he does.
Now, Javi is on the sidelines, admiring you in a way that makes his heart double in size.
Your dress skims around your calves as you dance—your arms rising above your head, glee stitched itself from cheek to cheek. On occasion, time halts when your eyes land on his—stealing whatever thought he had, only resuming normality when you close your eyes, belting out the lyrics to the song.
Mainly, the thought he finds which keeps returning is: I wanna do this with you again. any place. any time.
A hollowness scratches out in his chest as he lets himself acknowledge it. A thickness growing in his throat, a sorrowness weighs down on his shoulders as he nurses his glass—hand in his trouser pocket, telling himself he should be content he got to be on your arm, got to have you against him during a slow dance over an hour ago. That he gets to see you smile, hear your laugh—even know you.
“Hey, Peña.”
“Hey solecito.”
You grin—a little breathless, the music having changed, becoming slower, softer—wrenching the glass from his hand as you drain it.
“Fuck me. Y’thirsty?”
“Very. You’d know if you had any rhythm.”
He pinches you, lightly—teasingly. Your grin shifts into a laugh, tucking yourself in against him, arm around his back. And fuck, the way you’re looking up at him, he wants to warn you.
If you look at me like that, I’m going to kiss you.
Javi wonders what you’d do if you did. Whether you’d pull away, hissing the two of you are friends. Or whether you’d kiss him back.
“Want to get some fresh air?” you ask, your words against his ear—lips so close to ghosting his skin.
“Sure.”
It’s cooler when the two of you step out from under the marquee, the music getting quieter when your fingers loop in his, guiding, easing him around plant pots and tall trees, until the two of you are descending marble stairs and past iron fencing, to take him to the perimeter, to the view looking out over the city.
He watches as you step forward, fingers around the iron fencing, leaning, staring out as you let out a heavy sigh. One laced with things he wants to ask for, tug it from you, let you unload whatever is weighing on you—because that’s what you both do for one another.
You make it easy.
Make it all bearable.
But, whether you mean to, or not, you shiver. A light one, barely noticeable by most—but he isn’t most. His fingers are already at the button, undoing it, sliding his jacket down his arms before he places it over your shoulders, watching your head turn, meeting his gaze.
“You look really pretty.”
Flicking your eyes down, you smile. Sweetly. Unreadably. “Well, you’ve always been pretty.”
“Pretty?”
Laughing, your fingers tug his jacket closer, burying yourself in it. “The prettiest, Javier.”
Leaning beside you, he feels the metal from the railings, you’re both resting on, cut into his palms. He wonders if you feel the same, your dress billowing in the gentle breeze as the two of you stare off into the distance, spotting the flickering lights of a city, of homes tucking in for the night.
Then he turns his head, finding you already watching him, studying him in a similar way as you were before.
And, he lets his eyes drop to your mouth. A sign. A signal. It’s not the first time, usually, he does so when you’re not looking, letting himself trace the curve of your lips. Now, he stares at the way your gloss has long since gone, left behind on glasses and straws.
“Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper.
Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing where the hair sits atop his lip.
“Anytime, cariño.”
“Anytime, really?”
Nodding, he swallows. A thousand things he’s thought, and felt, all rushing to the surface—unwilling to bury itself, to descend under the usual guilt and feelings of inadequacies when it comes to you.
“I’d do anything for you.”
Smirking, you tilt your head. “Anything?”
Biting your lip, he feels it—something thrumming in him, being plucked.
“Will you kiss me?”
“I could…”
Your brows rise, a louder cheer coming from inside, but it doesn’t do anything to tear your eyes away from the other.
The whole world could slowly vanish from around the two of you, and all he’d want is just to stare at you.
“But?” you ask, delicately.
Almost so softly, it makes his chest ache.
Dipping his head, he lets his gaze wash over the place again—the rolling land, the trees, the houses in the distance.
“If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
You slide closer, shoulder to shoulder, eyes scorching his jaw, his neck, the side profile he can feel you tracing with your gaze.
“Then don’t,” you say.
His neck almost cracks with the quickness of his movement, his eyes scanning, reading, a part of him wanting to step back, and protect you. Because he’s not sure about the parts of him you’d find easy to love—
“You don’t know what you’re—“
“Don’t care,” you interrupt, fingers twitching on the lapel of his jacket. “I know you—Javi, not Agent Peña. I know the boy who cloud-watched with me when my parents wouldn’t stop fighting; I know the man who told me to stop sending him postcards from the town shop—but also whispered that he liked them.”
Snorting, he smiles.
“So, if you want to, no pressure—but, I think you should kiss me.”
“Yeah?”
Nodding, you bite your cheek. “Think you’ve wasted a lot of time not kissing me already, honestly.”
Of course you do, he thinks. And then he kisses you, palms on your cheeks, slanting his mouth over yours.
And fuck, it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever done.
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an: honestly, this made me so fucking happy to write.
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hellishjoel · 5 months
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12 Days of Pedro | Masterlist
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Authors Note Hello and welcome to 12 Days of Pedro! I'm incredibly lucky to host a wonderful collection of works by such talented and sweet authors. We will be posting fics and moodboards, all linked on this masterlist! To the authors participating, thank you from the bottom of my heart, putting this together meant the world to me! Getting to hear all of your excitement and ideas really put me in the spirit! To the readers, these fics will be holiday/christmas/winter themed, all posted on the original authors account. Please show them support and love! Come back every day to open a new present (fic!)
Thank you to @undercoverpena for creating this wonderful masterlist image and thank you @saradika-graphics for the banner!
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Day 1 (December 11) - new year's day by @hellishjoel Day 2 (December 12) - decorating the tree with dieter by @wildemaven Day 3 (December 13) - white christmas by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin Day 4 (December 14) - when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home by @joelsgreys Day 5 (December 15) - under the mistletoe by @beskarandblasters Day 6 (December 16) - baby, it's cold outside by @thetriumphantpanda Day 7 (December 17) - snowmen and sledding by @wildemaven Day 8 (December 18) - you're a mean one, mr. miller by @cupofjoel Day 9 (December 19) - make me like the holidays by @undercoverpena Day 10 (December 20) - let it snow by @kiwisbell Day 11 (December 21) - ásjá by @perotovar Day 12 (December 22) - naughty or spice by @morallyinept
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ilovepedro · 6 months
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Woven in the Stars | din djarin x f!reader
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Series Summary: Instead of navigating the galaxies, Din is navigating his new home life with Grogu on the ourskirts of Nevarro. In doing so, he meets you - a seamstress in town. The two of you form a beautiful bond through helping him adjust to domesticity in his secluded cabin. Throughout the time you share together, the bond you have flourishes into something more that can no longer be contained.
Rating: 18+ MDNI (All ageless blogs will be blocked.)
Series Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, yearning, simp!Din, domestic!Din, dad!Din, soft!Din, lil bit of OOC!Din, masturbation (female + male), eventual smut, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), oral (f and m receiving), reader has a birth control implant, breeding kink, spitting, fingering, Din is an ass man, possessive!Din, so much fluff, aftercare, lots of pet names, some POV switching, post-season 3, breaking the rules of the Creed, probs inaccurate star wars info, Din Djarin is referred to as Din and i’m not sorry, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, may change as I write (:
A/N: this whole idea struck while i was with my bff a while back. we were listening to “Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves and we both agreed that song is so Din coded so… here we are lol. i began writing domestic!Din back in October, and then i saw this STUNNING moodboard by @wildemaven and it fueled my brain rot even further! this will be divided into a few parts, and include an epilogue. i’m such a sucker for mutual pining slow burn 🫠 i hope y’all enjoy! 🫶🏼
Updates on Mando Mondays (schedule may vary)
Divider by the lovely @saradika
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Chapters
Chapter 1: Stitching Serenity
Chapter 2: Cosmically Sewn
Chapter 3: Unraveling Tapestry
Chapter 4: Moonlit Stitches
Chapter 5: Threads of Destiny
Chapter 6: Celestial Whispers
Epilogue: Etched in Stardust
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allfoolsinluv · 1 year
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Love in Real Time
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Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader
Summary: You spend a quiet morning with Javier in your new home.
Word Count: 1.5k
Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Minors DNI.
Warnings: established relationship, domestic fluff, implied + referenced sex, suggestive dialogue, food + alcohol mentions, soft!Javi, Javi is in loooooove, post-canon, giving Javi the life he deserves ❤️
A/N: written for the week 1 moodboard over at @wildemaven-prompts! 🥰 this is just pure, soft fluff. i had so much fun writing this one. title taken from the song 'love in real time' by the maine
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It happens slowly.
The soft sound of rain against your bedroom window is the first thing you notice. It’s a light drizzle, the noise just loud enough to barely pull you from sleep and into consciousness. You shift a little, the feeling of your silky sheets against your bare skin waking you even further. Soft breaths fan out rhythmically across the nape of your neck—in, out, in, out—making goosebumps form all over and sending a shiver down your spine. The arm around your waist tightens, pulling you even further into its embrace. That is what finally makes your eyes blink open.
The sight of your surroundings momentarily disorients you. You don't see the same textured, off-white walls you’d grown accustomed to waking up to over the past few years. Your closet is no longer to the right of your bed, and the rickety standing fan is gone from the corner of the room. Instead, you wake to find smooth walls in a soft cream color. In the place where your closet should be is now a hand-crafted wood dresser, lined with a white lace runner and a small vase of flowers. There's a fan, its blades turning idly, hanging from the ceiling above your bed. Your face scrunches up in confusion at the fact that you are not in your apartment.
You smile, though, when you realize you are home.
The last of your and Javier’s belongings had finally been unpacked in your new home the night before. You’d celebrated being officially moved in with a pizza from your favorite restaurant and a bottle of wine at your dining table. After dinner had been cleared and the wine was nearly gone, Javieri led you upstairs to your bedroom and spread you out on your shared bed. He’d savored you slowly, taking his time to build you both up. By the time he was done, you were blissfully sated, nearly buzzing at how perfectly your first real night in your home together had been commemorated.
Behind you, Javier groans softly as he stretches, the arm draped along your body moving off of you so he can rub at his eyes. You take the opportunity to turn over onto your other side to face him. Once you’ve settled into place, tucked back underneath his arm, he smiles at you.
You lean up a little to nuzzle into his neck, tracing along the curve of it with your nose. He hums when you start to kiss softly up to his jaw. He angles his head down to capture your lips with his own. The kiss is lazy, neither of you in any rush to turn things into more than what they are now.  
“Good morning, mi amor,” he says softly after he pulls away, his voice still hoarse with sleep. You can’t help yourself, leaning up to steal another quick kiss with a quiet giggle.
“Good morning, handsome. Sleep good?”
“Mhmm,” he answers. “Slept great. I always do when you’re next to me.”
Even after nearly two years together, Javier still manages to give you butterflies with the things he says.
The two of you are slow to get out of bed, content to just relax in each other’s company. The prospect of coffee and breakfast pulls you both from bed, though, when your stomachs start to rumble. You put on a pair of panties and snag Javier’s discarded t-shirt from the night before, pulling it over your head as he dresses in nothing but a pair of sweats. When he sees you in his shirt, he smirks at you, unable to resist walking over and pulling you into his arms.
“You look much better in my clothes than I do,” he says.
“I know,” you tease back, “why do you think I keep stealing them?”
That earns you a light swat on the ass and a grumble under his breath as you throw your head back in laughter. He lets go of you and takes your hand in his, leading you out of the bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen. 
The two of you work in companionable silence to get coffee and breakfast going. Javier stands at the stove, scrambling together some eggs, while you move around him. You pop the bread into the toaster once the coffee pot rumbles to life, the rich smell of his favorite Colombian blend filling your home.
You butter the toast while he plates the eggs. He sets the table while you pour cups of coffee for the both of you—his straight black, yours doctored up with flavored creamer. He likes to tease you about how you take your morning drink, “A little coffee with your creamer, amorcito?” You’ve grown fond of his teasing after all this time, but you still roll your eyes and huff in exasperation at him. He always softens the jab with a sweet kiss on your cheek.
He pulls your chair closer to his as you eat, one of his hands idly stroking your bare thigh as he alternates between taking bites of his food and sips of his coffee. You chat about your weekend plans, but neither of you has much desire to do anything today. The weather has both of you feeling lazy, content to just hang out around the house with each other instead of going anywhere else. Javier suggests visiting the farmer’s market the next morning if the rain clears up, and the thought of it makes you smile.
After breakfast, Javier shoos you away when you try to help him clean up. You sit at the table, fresh cup of coffee in hand, and watch him fondly as he works. It doesn’t take him long, the dishes used to make and eat breakfast minimal. When he’s closed the dishwasher, he turns to you, his hip against the counter and his arms crossed over his chest. He smirks down at you, making you hide your own up-turned lips behind your cup.
“Shower?” he asks.
You’re up and out of your seat, mug abandoned on the table before the word is even fully out of his mouth. You hear him laugh, his footsteps not far behind yours. He catches up to you quickly on the stairs, his arms winding around your waist as the two of you stumble up the last few steps. He guides you to the bathroom, his hands gripping the hem of your—his—shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You turn in his arms, leaning up to kiss him while he blindly fumbles with the faucet, turning the shower on while he kisses you back.
The water runs ice cold by the time you get out and wrap yourselves up in towels. You and Javier had spent more time indulging in each other than actually showering. The water had become lukewarm by the time you got around to scrubbing yourselves down and was freezing when you rinsed yourselves off. It was worth it, though, the see the content smile on his face as the two of you stepped out of the stall.
After dressing in comfortable lounge clothes, Javier drags you back downstairs and to the living room. He plops onto the couch, resting his head on the arm of it, and pulls you down to join him, your back against his chest. You grab the blanket off the back of the couch and drape it over the two of you. When you cuddle back against his chest with a soft hum, he bends his head to place a soft kiss on the crown of yours.
You flick through the channels on the TV until you land on a movie you and Javier have seen countless times. It’s perfect for a day like today when neither of you is really focused on anything but each other. 
The soft sounds of the rain still falling outside and the familiar, comforting warmth of Javier’s body cuddled against yours work in tandem to make your eyes grow heavy. You shift a little, turning your body onto its side to rest your cheek against his chest. He moves with you, settling into a position that allows you both to lie back more comfortably. 
You can feel Javier’s breathing begin to even out, his hold on you relaxing just a tad. He’s close to falling asleep, too. When you first started seeing each other, you didn’t dare to imagine the two of you getting to this place—him getting comfortable enough in your presence to let his guard down, even a little bit. To allow himself to indulge in moments of peace. Laying there against him, knowing that he’s about to fall asleep just before you, fills you with an overwhelming feeling of love.
Just before you let your body succumb to sleep, the sound of Javier’s soft snores now mixing with the rain, you think that right now, in this very moment, you are the happiest you have ever been. You suspect the same is true for him, too.
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years
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Palomino Masterlist
COMPLETE | Explicit 🔞 NO minors allowed
Jack Daniels x F!Reader
Series tags: Dude ranch cowboy Jack AU | mini-series | solo travel romance | lots of horsey details | self-indulgent AF | set in Wyoming | no physical descriptions of Reader
Note: You guys voted for Palomino to be the next WIP after Consent, and who am I to refuse? But honestly, thank you for voting for Jack, because I've been dying to write this story. If you'd like to be tagged, please comment, reblog or sign up at my taglist.
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Part 1: Palomino
Unable to get a refund for a week-long horse-riding pack trip you'd booked with your ex, you decide to go solo. As it turns out, a rebound with a cowboy named Jack while traversing the wild landscapes of Wyoming might just be what you need.
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Part 2: Buckskin
It's an eventful first day on the trail, to say the least.
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Part 3: Dapple Grey
Tinder is a dangerous game. So is Never Have I Ever.
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Part 4: Strawberry Roan
Jack pulls out all the stops for your birthday. All of them.
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Part 5: Appaloosa
You and Jack play house for a day.
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Part 6: Mustang
On the fifth day, you leave the Halfway House behind, and the conversation turns homeward.
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Part 7: Fleabitten
You and Jack spend your last night together in the mountains - for now.
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Part 8: Silver Pony
And just like that, your week at the Statesman Ranch comes to an end, leaving you grappling with the prospect of saying goodbye to Jack.
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Part 9: Warmblood
The hardest goodbye you’ll ever say.
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Oneshots & drabbles
Deleted scenes from the series that I didn't have the word count for.
Bernaise: You watch Jack cook. Deleted scene from Part 4 - Strawberry Roan.
If Only: Jack smiles and brushes a thumb across your cheek. If only you knew.
Peeks into Jack and Darlin's life after the end of the series.
Pressing: Jack marks you as his in an unexpected way.
Real: You call Jack after running into your ex at a wedding.
Cowgirl Aesthetics: 'This dress won't last ten minutes in a real horse yard and you know it, darlin''.'
Headcanons
Miscellaneous headcanons - some requested, some no one asked for.
Silver Pony | Jack’s moustache | Jack and horses | Jack's guilty pleasures | Jack is king of the two step | Jack's allergies | Teak the artist
Visuals
Mostly made/commissioned for A Palomino Farewell.
Special edition chapter banners
Horses of Palomino
Palominogram: About last night
Palominogram: The cellar
Commissioned art
Belt buckle inspiration
Moodboard: Buckskin
Moodboard: Palomino
Horse girl representation
Recipes
Mama Daniels' express chili: featured in Fleabitten
Poppy's chocolate & rum cupcakes: featured in Strawberry Roan
Chapter sneak peeks: two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight
Bonus content
Art and misc. generously gifted by my sweetest friends ❤️
A Palomino Farewell
Palomino playlist
A birthday message from cowboy Jack and Cowboy yearning by the most talented @guiltypleasure-art
Palomino edit by the loveliest Heidi @wildemaven
Moodboard by the sweetest Keira @k-ra
Playlist by sweetest Sil @psychedelic-ink for A Palomino Farewell
Palomino-inspired cocktail recipe by darlin' Skye @iamskyereads
I can't believe that Palomino now has its own cocktail!!! I'm so honoured that Skye created and shared this recipe with us. All the elements are perfect, from the Campfire whiskey (Darlin's favourite time of the day - snuggling with Jack by the fire), apple (If Only reference) and Ginger (who convinced Darlin' not to cancel the trip). I cannot wait to try this cocktail myself, thank you so so much my love ❤️
More notes: This is a very personal story to me as I grew up loving and riding horses. I've been lucky enough to go on several horseriding holidays, and I'm writing directly from experience - except the hot cowboy part, sadly. Even if you don't ride, I hope you enjoy this story, and I will be the happiest writer if I impart to you even a fraction of the joy of exploring the great outdoors from the back of a steady (or speedy) steed.
{ Inspo }
{ Main Masterlist | Taglist }
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psychedelic-ink · 4 months
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your girlie made a vision board for 2024, I know I've been kind of a downer lately but I just got a job interview so I'm feeling better again, and making a vision board felt like the perfect pre-new years' thing to do other than writing smut lmaodf
it is a bit chaotic but that's life, isn't it??
I also thought this would be a fun little tag game for those who want to make their own (also you can just make a moodboard as well doesn't have to be as chaotic as mine!!) so no pressure tags: @inklore @saradika @wildemaven @pedrito-friskito @undercoverpena @fuckyeahdindjarin @thelightsandtheroses @radiowallet @wannab-urs @littlemisspascal @prolix-yuy @sweetercalypso @pedrorascal @fluffyprettykitty @leydileyla @swiftispunk @cupofjoel @missredherring @agentmarcuspike @pedgito @nothoughtsjustmeds @morallyinept @doctorliamsr @chaoticgeminate @mando-abs + anyone else who wants to join in!
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(please make a separate post if you decide to join in xx)
also I made a list before actually searching the images and it was super helpful instead of just forcing my brain to think and search images 💜
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softstarlite · 6 months
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Camping Proposal
A Frankie Morales One Shot
Frankie Morales x f!reader
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Inspired by this moodboard by @wildemaven
Warnings: very slight smut, mention of masturbation (m receiving), mention of cum eating, one mention of killing from reader towards Frankie, pure fluff.
Rating: +18
Word count: 1.8K
Masterlist
A/N: I'm not sure if I like this but well, here it is <3
Dividers by @saradika
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Frankie had it all planned, the entire weekend. All the gear that they needed to camp was already in his car, his car had gas, his daughter was spending the weekend with his parents, he had packed the camera in his bag when you were distracted because he already knew you would want to get some pictures about the whole thing. And, most importantly, the ring was inside a pair of socks in his bag, ready for the perfect moment.
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You and Frankie met on one of Benny´s fight nights, you had been dragged to it by a close friend that had a crush on Benny and wanted to see him all sweaty and throwing punches. You, being the kind friend that you are, let her drag you with a smile on your face. You had worn a pair of cropped jean shorts, a tight black tank top and the one item you were obsessed with at the time, your black cowboy boots. You were sitting on front row, even if it was a stupid idea since it would mean that any blood, sweat or spit would be hitting you, all because your friend really “needed” a good look of Benny; that was when a stranger tripped just in front of you, sending their beer all over you on accident. When you got a good look at the stranger he had beautiful brown eyes, a patchy beard and a dimple formed in his cheek when he gave an apologetic smile to you, followed by a million sorrys.
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After an hour and a half of Frankie driving with a hand on your thigh and your sing along of the songs on the radio, you guys arrive at the campsite, you hop out of the car in excitement and look around, when you see that you guys were alone and the closest person was miles away you let out a excited squeal.
“Ooh this is a perfect place amor” you say walking to the flattest place, where the tent would be placed, and look towards the river close to the site.
You feel a pair of arms surrounding you from behind and the tickle of Frankie´s mustache in your neck. “you know what's more perfect? you, bebita” he says pecking your neck.
“I love you, but that was the cheesiest thing in the world” you chuckle and bring a hand behind you to run through his brown curls, his cap forgotten inside the car.
“Having you here all to myself for the whole weekend gets me too cheesy, so don't be mean cariño” he squeezes you between his arms and nibbles your neck.
“Frankie!!” you squirm in his arms and laugh, you love him like this, not stress about anything and with time to be as playful and carefree as he wants to be.
He finally lets you go and spins you, so you are looking at him, he looks into your eyes for what feels like an eternity, his eyes soft and expressing all the love he guards inside of him for you. Then he puts a hand on your cheek and kisses you softly and slowly, like he wanted you to never forget this moment.
Once you guys separate, you start to gather some wood for a fire and he starts to put together the tent. By the time he finishes it's already dark and you have already put up a fire. One of the things that made you and Frankie click fast was your love for nature. You used to camp with your dad and brothers all the time growing up, and Frankie´s time in the military made him appreciate nature more and lent him many useful skills.
“Finally…” Frankie groans while getting up from putting the last tent stake.
“You should've let me help you, amor, your back is shit, I could´ve crouched better to put those” you say from your chair by the fire, where the dinner was cooking.
“You're calling me old bebita?” he says, squinting his eyes at you but with a smirk on his face. “You don't worry that much about my back when I'm-” you quickly interrupt him, throwing a small stick at him. He laughs at your flustered face “I'm joking bebita” he walks to you and kisses your temple “this weekend i want you to relax as much as you can and to not lift a finger as much as you can as well” he sits on the chair beside yours.
You cross your arms over your chest “and what if i want to pamper you instead”.
“You already do it everyday, cariño, it's my turn this weekend” he says, putting an arm over your shoulders and bringing you to him.
That night you guys just fell to sleep easily, you were both too tired after the drive and putting up the camp.
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The next day, after you wake up, quite late compared to your weekdays or the weekends when Frankie's daughter was with you, with Frankie pressed into your back, you wake him up with your hand around his already semi hard shaft and later, after he came over your hand with a loud groan and watched you lick his spend from it, you guys had a quick breakfast.
After eating, you both got dressed and went for a hike along the beautiful hills; you had packed two sandwiches for lunch in case you hadn't come back by then.
“Frankie, amor, maybe let's take a little break” you say since you have been hiking for two hours straight, you sit on a big rock and wipe the sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your long sleeved sporty crop top. He puts his backpack off his back into the ground, at your feet, then he climbs behind you and makes you rest into him. The view from your position was breathtaking, the warm sun behind you, the hills full of green in front of you and the arms of the man you love around you.
You turn to the side, to Frankie´s arm, your head and take his scent in, a mix of patchouli from his cologne, mint from the gums he was always chewing and a musky scent that was just Frankie, that's the only way you could described, just Frankie. He kisses the top of your head. You guys stay like that for a whole hour before you resume your hike but now back to your camp.
When you are close to the camp, Frankie tells you to go ahead while he ties one of his boots, you tell him that you´ll just wait for him, that is no problem but for some reason he insists that you go ahead. With a confused frown you shrug your shoulders and resume walking to the camp.
You suddenly spot a red thing on the ground, followed by another and another. Rose petals? In ths part of the mountains there are no roses, you and Frankie have been here before so you know it from your several hikes. You continue walking and you´re meet by more and more rose petals.
“Frankie, can you come baby?” you say over your shoulder but he isn't there anymore. Your brows furrow even more, where the hell did he go? “Frankie?!” no response “I swear to god, Francisco Morales, if you´re just pulling a prank on me, i'll kill you in your sleep” still no response, so you decide to just continue towards the camp, maybe he went through the trees to it?
More rose petals appear at your feet, you decide to follow them, it feels like the only reasonable thing to do. They lead you to one of the trees in your camp, but that's not the most surprising thing.
When you see the tree coming into view, there are fairy lights hanging from its branches, a little final pile of red rose petals scattered around its base and something engraved into the trunk. When you're close enough to read what's engraved on the trunk, you gasp and lead your hands to your mouth, Will you marry me?, can be read on it. In that moment, Frankie comes from behind a tree and kneels in front of you with a simple but beautiful ring. You can feel the tears conquering your eyes immediately.
“Frankie…” it's all that comes out of your mouth.
“Cariño, I´ve loved you since the minute my eyes landed on you, you were there, covered in the beer I had just spilled over you but as soon as my eyes met yours, I knew it. You´ve been there for me in my worst and best moments, you accepted my daughter from minute one and not only that but you´ve also become the healthy maternal figure she´s needed her entire life. My heart bursts in happiness every time I see the both of you together, my mind can't help in those moments to just imagine how a little one born from our shared love would look like. I want to be able to introduce you to everyone i meet until the day i die as my wife, i want to wake beside you for the rest of our lives and for your eyes to be the first and last thing i see everyday, so would you make me the happiest man on the universe and marry me?” he holds his breath while he waits for your answer and you´re just a sobbing mess, not capable of giving him a verbal response, you nod yes like a thousand times.
Frankie stands from his kneeling position, quicker than what his back will thank him later and embraces you in his arm very tightly, then he pulls back, tries to wipe most of your tears and kisses you deeply. When both your bodies demand air to survive, you break the kiss and he takes your hand on his and slides the ring on your finger.
Now that you've stopped crying you feel like you can talk and be understood. “How? How have you prepared for this?” you say signaling around you.
He puts a hand of your hair, that had escaped your ponytail, behind your ear “The guys helped me,I prepared it all with them when you told me that you could go camping this weekend” He puts his hands on your waist and you circle his neck with your arms.
“That's why stupid Benny canceled on me when I asked him to confirm about getting our manicures and pedicures on Saturday like always? That bastard!” Frankie chuckles and shakes his head.
“Pope still gives him shit for your little friend dates to the nail salon” he puts his face on the crook of your neck and inhales your scent.
“That's because Santi has spent too much time around dirt in the jungle and doesn't even remember what having nice and healthy nails is anymore” you both chuckle and stay on each other's embrace for some time, just taking in the fact that now you were engaged and you would start a new life together.
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wildemaven · 5 months
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Road-trip with Joel
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trulybetty · 2 months
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11 x dream - mr. ben (snl) x reader
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prompt: dream pairing: ben x reader word count: 357 notes: fluff and betty's dated english degree pulling apart poetry to strong arm into this drabble summary: just a little stolen moment
A/N: this is new territory, writing for Ben - we can thank @wildemaven and her stunning moodboard, and @gnpwdrnwhiskey's tags that spurred this. Happy Wednesday all and Happy Valentine's if you celebrate! 💕
x. masterlist
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The college hallways were congested with students, and you weaved in and out of their clusters to reach the end of the hall in the limited time you had before your next lessons started. Your bright pink loafers set the pace, on theme for the day at hand, Valentine's Day, for your planned little escape from routine.
Slipping quietly into his office, you found him buried in a mountain of papers, his focus a testament to his dedication. “Guess who?” you whispered, covering his eyes with your hands.
Startled, Ben paused, a smile soon spread across his face as he recognized your touch. “Could it be the art thief here to steal my heart again?” he joked in reference to the department you worked in, turning to pull you into a warm embrace.
“I thought I'd already stolen it for good,” you retorted playfully, presenting him with a handmade Valentine.
He laughed as he took in the crude valentine made from recycled textbook pages and a post-it note, “Quite imaginative,” his fingers ran over the looped cursive of your handwriting and his smile turned soft as he recognized the lines from one of his favourite poems.
What could there be more purely bright  In Truth’s day-star? 
“You are the brightness that dreams only pale in comparison to,” he kissed your hand he'd taken in his. “But I'm afraid I have nothing for you here. It's home.”
“Well,” you remarked as you turned his office chair to face you, leaning over and placing your hands on either side of him, resting them on the padded armrests. “I think there's a way for you to make up for that,” you assured him, leaning in for a soft kiss that spoke volumes.
The kiss deepened, a silent conversation of love and longing, before you both reluctantly pulled away, mindful of the time.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Ben sighed, his hands lingering at your waist.
“We will have all the time in the world soon enough,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand. “Now, let's steal a few more moments before we have to face the world again.”
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undercoverpena · 11 months
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late night texts masterlist
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javier peña x f!reader summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.
key themes: set in 2000 aka nokia 3310 vibes. text message fic. romcom vibes. series warnings: fluff. flirting. banter. idiots falling in love over text messages. eventual face-to-face meeting. phone sex. smut. (will update as things proceed but these are the main ones)
COMPLETE Spotify playlist
AO3
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MAIN SERIES
i. prologue
ii. chapter one
iii. chapter two
iv. chapter three
v. chapter four
— bonus scene: phone sex
vi. chapter five
vii. chapter six
— bonus scene: wicked games you play
viii. chapter seven
ix. chapter eight
x. chapter nine
xi. chapter ten
xii. chapter eleven
xiii. chapter twelve
epilogue
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ONE SHOTS
come away with me and we'll kiss on your one-year anniversary, javi takes you to a photo booth to recreate the first one the two of you did. he just can't keep his hands to himself.
the angel + the devil (halloween fic)
“You may be dressed like that,” he says, dropping his voice “But I know how dirty your halo is.”
stockings and stars (christmas fic)
Still need the star putting on the top of the tree. ive got other plans for you Because I’m the star? yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back
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moodboard - made by anon
moodboard - made by @ghostaholics
post-epilogue pretty - made by @scenaaario
moodboard - made by @agentmarcuspike
moodboard - made by @wildemaven
collage/wallpaper - made by @joelsgreenflannel
gifted moodboard - made by @missredherring
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intheorangebedroom · 2 years
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Pleased to meet you (a fairy tale)
Series, complete.
Summary: You meet Frankie Morales. Twice.
A 20-year-old French student, you're spending the summer of 1999 in New York with your best friend. When she drags you to a party in Brooklyn, you meet an aspiring pilot and the two of you spark an instant and intense connection. Separated by unfortunate events, you waste the next 15 years of your life longing for what you've lost, only to meet him again when your new boyfriend Benny introduces you to his best friend.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gabrielle Tourneur (OFC)/French fem!Reader with a dash of Ben Miller x Gabrielle Tourneur (OFC)/French fem!Reader
Written in reader format but Reader is an OFC. There are sparse but still present physical descriptions, she is French and has a thorough background, and a name.
Rating: Explicit 🔞
Note: In 2023, I will stop apologising. Maybe. And anyway, I make no excuse. I'm in love with this pilot and obsessed by this movie so I'm making it everyone’s problem. This story is nothing if not a self-indulgent exploration of the soulmates ideal. Expect a lot of angst, and smut.
Every chapter is explicit and you should be 18+ to read this. The American university system remains a mystery to me, I googled "how to become a US Army pilot", and visas are not a thing in this AU. English is not my first language, but one I adore.
Welcome to the orange bedroom, hope you'll enjoy 🧡
Chapters
Chapter 1 - Lovesong
Chapter 2 - I Feel You
Drabble (chapter 3) - What lingers (you)
Drabble (chapter 4) - What lingers (Frankie)
Chapter 5 - Boy meets girl
Drabble - Proud Mary (Ben Miller x you)
Chapter 6 - That Brooklyn bathroom
Chapter 7 - Frankie
Chapter 8 - Shuffle Your Feet
Chapter 9 - The Way Young Lovers Do
Chapter 10 - The Deal
Chapter 11 - Sunday Morning
Chapter 12 - The Drive Home
Chapter 13 - Perfect Day
Chapter 14 - Love is blindness
Chapter 15 - Flaming June
Chapter 16 - Plainsong
Chapter 17 - Auf Achse
Drabble - What lingers (you&him)
Epilogue - Songbird
Drabbles
Road Trippin’ - inspired by one of Wildemaven’s beautiful weekly moodboard writing prompts 🔞
The ties that bind us
To Bring You My Love
I &lt;3 U SO - coming one day for sure
Headcannons
Frankie's high school locker
The TF boys' favourite things in life and how they like it done.
Benny and Gabrielle (better read between chapter 14 and 15 to avoid spoilers)
A PTMY Halloween 🎃
Playlist
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rhoorl · 5 months
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Week in Review | Dec. 10
Hi! How are you? I can't believe we're nearing the midway point of December! I am happy to get back to my typical Week in Review style after an abbreviated version last week!
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Same shit different week for me when it comes to my TBR, I add more than I can read. But alas, here's what I got to:
Fics I read this week:
Frankie Morales
I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena - I've kept this series in my Current Compulsory Series section for weeks, but I'm pulling it up to the top this week because we got the final part this week! It's always a bit bittersweet to me when I get to the end of a series, especially one I'm following in real-time. I loved following along each week and immersing myself in this story and I’m sad it's done (but hey, great news, I can now reread it from the beginning and binge!). Great job Jo! 💕
While I'm talking about Jo, here's this saucy one-shot Coming Under the Christmas Tree
Joel Miller
Footprints by @sin-djarin - This brought back some Christmas morning nostalgia for me! Joel as a dad and the love he has for Sarah makes me melt. And we have an Uncle Tommy appearance too!
Mr. Ben
SOS by brnn on AO3 - I’m not sure if this creator is on Tumblr, but if they are let me know! I had several chapters of this story built up that I hadn’t caught up on and when the final chapter dropped I binged what I had left! Mr. Ben and OFC Clare are adorable. 
Din Djarin
Safe to The Touch by @linzels-blog A touch-starved Din gets some lovin’. 💕
A Baker’s Dozen by @avastrasposts Part 2 in Mel's series saw Din come into the bakery. This was so sweet (no pun intended!).
Other Characters
Good Things Take Time by @oonajaeadira -  This series is so good! I've had it recommended to me several times and I've been slowly working my way through it, savoring it because I don't want it to end! I read Parts 2 and 3 this week along with the various drabbles in between. The chemistry these two have is *chef's kiss*
Current Compulsory Series:
These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.
Holiday Prompts (Various) by @trulybetty - A healthy serving of delicious stories this week. I officially want to move to Maplewood, well, maybe visit. I'll be honest, I'm not made for the cold anymore. 😆 Also, Tim and Cagney continue to be a favorite as are Frankie and Mav! And Dieter made me google Christmas hippo socks which somehow I already did not own! 🦛
Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog The rollercoaster I felt with this latest chapter … I have to know what happens next!!
Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings This latest chapter had me all up in my feels. These two are 🥹💕
Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese I think I've finally managed to pick my jaw up off the floor from the spicy scene in the latest chapter.
Undercover (Tim Rockford) by @secretelephanttattoo Another great chapter update this week, El!! Grumpy Tim and his pet fish are living rent free in my head.
It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest - There is some dad Javi content I need to catch up on!!
Posts from the week:
The moodboards @wildemaven puts out are always gold, but this Frankie holiday-themed board just made me swoon 
@laurfilijames made me think about which holiday movies the TF boys would be into. I also hastily made a graphic lol. Speaking of asks @maggiemayhemnj gave me an almost impossible this or that choice. My friend @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain offered up these choices.
If you need a badge for any Pedro boy, @morallyinept has you covered
We got our first look at Pedro in Freaky Tales and oh goodness … the scar. Seriously help us all whenever the Gladiator photos leak. 
In case you missed it, the fun writing challenge that’s going around here's another plug. I finally have an idea … now I just need to write it. I think I’m going to end up throwing it back to my college days and cramming this in at the last minute….
Feral corner:
There was simply too much to keep track of this week. I was overwhelmed by thots. I think this post sums things up well.
This photo altered my brain chemistry. This photo of Pedro as Dieter and THEN this video… oh hey Working Title Dieter. 😏 Frankie tummy always gets me. Javi P in this jacket. Talk about gifs you can hear. This outfit - he knew what he was doing when we wore this right?
@foralonglongtime - no pressure but I’m very excited about the prospect of this…
This scene from TLOU forever changed me. 
Garrett Hedlund: This man was utterly too much this week. Exhibit A, Exhibit B, Exhibit C, and finally, the post that started my spiral.
Things I watched:
I didn't make it to the movies this week, Mr. Rhoorl went and saw Godzilla Minus One and loved it. He's a huge Godzilla fan so he was pretty excited to see it. I’m off fo work tomorrow so I’m planning on seeing Wish.
Something that is releasing soon that I'm excited to see is Rebel Moon with Charlie Hunnam on Netflix. It looks like it will be available for my UK fans this week, but we in the US have to wait until the 21st.
Personal Stuff
Busy week. Both Mr Rhoorl and I had PTO on different days this week and we both had our plans thwarted by a sick baby. She's ok now, all good! Otherwise, we've been mostly laying low. I have managed to get most of my holiday shopping done and our Christmas cards arrived so that's exciting! We've also been checking out the various theme parks - I love the way they decorate this time of year! We did a holiday cookie stroll at Epcot last night and it was yummy
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Fic updates:
I had Benny Miller brain rot again (when don't I at this point?). Anyway, the result was a third part of what I guess is now the unofficial "Are You on Mute" series. I do have plans for wrapping those one-shots up into something bigger. I just frankly keep having thots I have to get out and it's distracting me😆
I did manage to get a good amount of writing done for the next chapter of Delta Landscaping. Hoping to get the new episode out early this week. Whenever I get down on myself that I'm not updating that series fast enough I remind myself it's essentially like 6 different series in one so therein lies the delays 🫣
This can be such a stressful part of the year, so I hope you are able to take some time for yourself! Have a great week and thanks for reading if you made it this far!
Masterlist
Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3 
Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3
Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3
Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3
Are You on Mute? Part Two
Are You Alone 
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sin-djarin · 6 months
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Becca's Brunch
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Happy Sunday and the seasonal treats are in. Cranberry stuff, cinnamon things, pumpkin spiced donuts - I have it all (not really but we're pretending for a hot second, okay?). But there's probably still some Halloween bits leftover if you look hard enough. And coffee or whatever way you consume your caffeine, grab it, sit for a minute and let us enjoy.
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Or, what I've gotten round to reading this week to make more room on the TBR shelf.
First, a quick reminder that what I may like, you may not and that's okay! Please heed individual warnings on fics. Leave an author a comment and reblog if you enjoy their work!
Joel Miller:
first light by @5oh5
oct 29 x stormy days by @trulybetty
Javier Pena:
Paranoid Heart by @goodwithcheese (new chapter)
Unworthy by @morallyinept
anytime by @undercoverpena
Dieter Bravo:
Bite Me by @chronically-ghosted
Working Title by @rhoorl (new chapter)
Ezra:
embers by @sp00kymulderr
Max Phillips:
La Mordida by @imalrightllama
Marcus Pike:
Headshots by @secretelephanttattoo
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Or, other bits and pieces that made me smile this week.
Analysis of Tim Rockford's eyesight by @gemmahale
little cute things to remember by @undercoverpena
This moodboard but also all the other beautiful ones @wildemaven has been creating.
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Or, what I managed to dish up this week.
Fic:
steep is the mountain Tim Rockford x f!reader
"art" (in quotation marks because these were a hurried job)
Bravo Bumper Stickers
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Or, what if, by some miracle, we got two characters in the same room?
See below for Joel being totally fucking unimpressed at Marcus's forwardness.
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Sleeves? No, not on this menu. You're safe.
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Was this some sort of excuse to post a Rockford-esque image? No, and you can't prove anything.
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Well. Good news and bad news.
Bad news. I am very tired. Know how I know? I work with a very sweet woman who asked me if I was tired and that was enough. Also, I've been asleep before 11pm many nights this week and still woke up exhausted. (Sorry @for-a-longlongtime for falling asleep mid conversation!) Corporate chaos ensued and my ADHD brain is teetering on burnout and I like to catch it before that actually happens.
Good news! I have a few days off and I'm going on a little surprise staycation. This is technically our first holiday since pre covid times. I'm excited but as a result, the kitchen will be closed for brunch next week. There is stuff in the queue, but I am hoping to stay off my phone/laptop for a while. Now having said that, I do hope to clear up a little space on my tbr shelf because damn, you're all so talented and your words and imaginations bring me so much joy. Please drop a tag if you think there's something I should read, and I'll be around for the rest of the day anyways in case ya need me.
Now, a very apt OST:
Friends, if you've made it this far, je t'adore. I wish you a week of creativity, rest, as much caffeine or caffeine free tea as your heart desires. Drink water, be safe and be careful. Be kind to yourselves and to one another. Be mindful of your energy and what you put it into, especially as the nights get longer this time of year.
I'll see ya on the other side and if I'm not back avenge my death. I'm kidding, don't do this. It's a Simpsons quote. From Homer vs The Eighteenth Amendment. You know the one? You're out there somewhere, beer baron...
Hopefully I return with Frankie's level of competency and Javi G levels of enthusiasm.
Clearly, I need coffee and so...
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Thanks for your patience and the smiles that you bring me week after week.
Love, your emo neighbour,
Becca 🤍
Disclaimer: Joel's expression is not an accurate presentation of mine today, I promise I'm quite happy!
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gnpwdrnwhiskey · 1 year
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One More Day
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
WC: 370-ish
Warnings: none that I'm aware of?
A/N: I really had no intention of trying to write Joel, but then @wildemaven wrote this and my weird little brain said 'what we have here is a failure to communicate' and then this happened....thanks so much for letting me play in your sandbox, I hope I didn't muck it up, lol! and thanks for the beautiful @wildemaven-prompts moodboards every week!
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Joel doesn't sleep much these days. Not really. He's mastered the art of grabbing naps whenever life allows and he does a pretty passable job of faking it that he's actually sleeping through the night. Letting his tired body settle, his breathing even out, his heart rate slow.
But he's not asleep. Not really. Lost somewhere in that in-between state. So he feels it every night when you pull away from his embrace and turn your back to him.
He feels it during the waking hours too. The way you watch him and Ellie like you're wondering if it would be easier if they went on without you. The way you hesitate sometimes to take his hand when he holds it out to you.
Joel is sick of losing people. He doesn't want yours to be another name on the list, another memory, another could've should've would've. He's got so few names- people- left at this point. Tommy. Ellie, maybe. You. He can't afford another loss.
Thing is, he doesn't really know how to tell you. Didn't think he had to after all these years. You've been around long enough to know him, to know all the broken pieces that make him who he is and somehow he just expects you to know that he wants you here, that he wants you to stay. To be with him. To see this adventure through to the end whenever and wherever that may be.
He knows it'll come to a breaking point, knows that he'll have to make time here soon to take you aside, away from Ellie's nosy ass, and actually talk about it whether he wants to or not. Knows he owes you that. More than that if he's honest with himself. He owes you a lot of words he hasn't said to anyone in a long time and isn't even sure he knows how or exactly what they mean anymore, but he owes it to you to try.
Right now though, he'll roll over and pull you close again, fitting his larger body around yours, both of you lost in your heads and pretending to sleep and pray like he does every night that he can put it off for one more day.
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